You knew that he was actually always gentle with you. Why wouldn't he be? Zayne didn't like to see you in pain. Especially not pain that he caused. But today was one of those days.
You begged him to stop being so gentle, as if you were about to break, and he agreed. Now you were lying on your stomach on your bed, and Zayne was no longer as gentle as usual. His cock was deep inside you. You thought you might like it, but the opposite was the case. It was painful.
You felt ashamed to stop him, but when you felt tears of pain in your eyes, you knew you had to stop. "Jasmine..." you mumbled to yourself. Zayne stopped.
"Pardon? Did you say something?" He only heard you starting to sob. He could tell very well whether they were tears of pleasure or real pain. He pulled out of you gently and slowly, and took you softly in his arms.
"Shhh... Don't cry. Everything is okay. Don't be ashamed of your pain and for having to stop. That's what we have the safe word for." He gently ran his fingers through your hair and kissed your hairline. Zayne took a blanket and wrapped you in it. "We're taking a break for today, my sweet girl."
Sylus
Sylus, the gentle giant. At least you thought he was gentle, but the restraint during your cold took its toll. After you told him that you were fit again, you found yourself on his bed two minutes later. He kissed you greedily.
"Let me show you how much I missed you, Kitten." No sooner said than done. It didn't even take him five minutes to get both of you stark naked. He lay down between your legs and began to lick you for a few minutes so that you would be ready for his cock right away.
After a few minutes, he stopped and pushed himself inside immediately. A burning pain spread through your abdomen.
"Red!" you called out loudly.
Sylus stopped instantly and pulled back immediately. "Was I too fast? Is everything alright?" He didn't hesitate, grabbed his T-shirt from the floor, and pulled it over you.
"I'm sorry. I should have been more considerate. Do you need anything specific?" You shook your head and threw yourself into his arms. "I just want to cuddle... No more sex today..." He nodded understandingly and covered you with his huge luxury blanket.
Caleb
You knew that he did freaky things. That was just how he was. He loved to experiment, but today it went a bit too far. Both of you were ready. More than ready. You had seen the bulge in his pants all day long, and now in the evening, you could relieve him.
He had positioned you on your stomach with your hips up. Nothing unusual. "Stay just like that, Pips."
You obeyed him and didn't move an inch. He thrust inside with full force, which made you flinch. As he moved consistently, however, he thrust at an uncomfortable angle, so that it hurt. You didn't want to disappoint him or seem weak, so you just clawed your hands into the blanket at first.
But at some point, it was unbearable. "Apple..." you whimpered to yourself. Caleb didn't hear it, though.
"Apple!" you said once more, louder this time. Caleb stopped abruptly and pulled out.
"Pips?" He saw your trembling body and your hand cramped in the blanket. He first untangled your hand and then helped you lie down properly, seeing your tear-stained face. His eyes widened in shock. "What happened?!"
But instead of forcing you to give an answer, he took you in his arms. Shortly after, he dressed you himself and fetched you a bar of chocolate from the fridge. "No more experiments for the next few days," he told you and kissed your forehead.
Rafayel
It was your idea. You had convinced him to fuck you until you were overstimulated. He didn't think it was such a good idea, but after your hours of begging, he finally agreed.
In the evening in bed, you were completely ready. "Say your safe word if it's too much, okay? I'll stop immediately." You only gave a nod. "Use your words," he commanded. "Yes, Rafayel. I understand."
He hesitated briefly, but then he started. After round 3, you were already pretty exhausted. In round 4, you had almost no feeling left and were so overstimulated that you felt every thrust a hundred times worse.
At some point, it started to hurt, and you knew: it had to stop. "Fish..." you mumbled to yourself. You were so exhausted that you couldn't even sit up properly. Rafayel heard your mumbling and pulled out of you immediately. Silently, he lay down on top of you, pulled the blanket over both of you, gave you a kiss on the neck, and cuddled as close to you as possible.
He massaged your abdomen and watched your face. "I see that you are tired. Sleep. I'll watch over you." Your eyes were indeed very heavy. Finally, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.
Xavier
You really wanted to try bondage during sex for once. He already had handcuffs there, but you had never used them until today. "I'm a bit nervous..." you said. "If anything happens or you don't want it anymore, just say the safe word. That's what it's there for, and I will stop immediately,"
he assured you. You trusted him and undressed. He stared at your boobs for what felt like an eternity before reaching for the handcuffs. He stepped behind you and bound your wrists together.
"Is it okay like this? Does anything hurt?" You shook your head and smiled. "Everything is okay." He took your word for it and gently laid you on your stomach on the bed.
He started by fingering you first. You liked it a lot and surrendered to it. But after some time, you felt helpless and forcibly restricted. First came fear, then panic. You no longer felt any passion.
"Xavier! Star!" Xavier stopped immediately and freed you.
He didn't hesitate for a second and covered you with a blanket. "Everything is fine. It's over. You are safe." You were still trembling a little, but you cuddled up to his warm body.
"I didn't like it very much..." you mumbled ashamed. "Then we'll leave that be in the future. You don't have to force yourself through kinks just to make me happy. I love you just the way you are."
Rafayel and Caleb explore new territory together...
(mutual masturbation [between Raf&Caleb], face riding and backshots?, sloppy making out [also between Raf&Caleb])
I came up with a solution for the lack of kissing in part one guys. They didn’t realise they have feelings for each other too!
wc. 1.6k
The good news is, Rafayel and Caleb haven’t been excluding you from their plans anymore. You guys have fallen into a certain harmony, something that has become your own normal.
It was great. You guys hang out, talk, laugh and then disappear into a bedroom for a couple hours.
Outside of your time together, Caleb and Rafayel definitely dote on you when they can. Flowers sent to your door or the daily message to ask about your day. Rafayel showed up at your door to take you out for dinner, which you happily obliged to.
You sit across from him, joyfully stuffing your face with the food that Rafayel offered to pay for.
Although it has all been a flawlessly perfect experience, you can’t help but wonder about the logistics of what to call this… arrangement. Rafayel and Caleb are close friends now, sure, what do they think about seeing each other so intimately?
“Hey Rafayel,” you begin. You catch his attention. “What do you think of Caleb?”
His head tilts curiously, “Caleb? He’s a… nice person.”
“Anything more?”
“Why're you asking?” He chuckles, nudging his foot against yours. He picks up his wine glass to take a small sip.
“Because… you guys are basically dating, but you’re not aware of it.”
Rafayel almost chokes on his wine, smugness all erased. “We are?”
“I don’t wanna say it too loud…” You look around the restaurant. Various crowds of people engage in light chatter and elegant food, just as you are. “But you and Caleb have seen each other in… pretty revealing states.”
Rafayel looks down at the table, the tips of his ears tinged red at the confrontation of that information.
“So?”
“So…” You trace gentle shapes into the back of Rafayel’s hand. “You must have some feelings towards him?”
That thought sits in Rafayel’s head. Swims around like the most stubborn guppy wanting answers. Rafayel knows he likes you, has had feelings for you since he started getting to know you. Do his feelings extend like that to Caleb?
“Rafayel? He’s a bit impulsive, but nice to be with,” Caleb says, gazing up at the greenery wavering above him.
“But is he cute?” You pry.
You were on a bench at a park, a grand fountain centred amongst the other seats and gardening. You poke Caleb on his thigh, trying to get a direct answer from him.
“Cute? He’s hard to deal with,” he complains but there’s a catch of affection that only you would be able to decipher.
“But you deal with him just fine,” you prod again. It’s a little harder to hide your tactics from Caleb, though. His intense yet soulful gaze darts over to you.
“What game are you playin’ here?”
“Just saying. Whatever you and Rafayel have going on isn’t usual,” you shrug your shoulders.
Your words definitely got to them. Your tactics were specially designed to infiltrate the minds of the guys you’re messing around with. You wanted them to confront what they have going on between them, not just the connection they have with you.
The next time you bring them to your bed, you notice the shift in energy between them. Rafayel seemed to stare a little longer. His eyes raked over Caleb’s muscular body, focusing especially on his abs and pecs as Caleb maneuvered himself near you.
Caleb was more open towards Rafayel as well. His fingers brush against his cheek, he holds Rafayel’s waist a little longer than a second.
The room was filled with the euphony of your mixed moans and whines as you're positioned above Rafayel's face. His tongue plays with your clit as you try your best to keep your hand on his cock, almost in a 69 position. Caleb's positioned behind you, plunging himself into you repeatedly. Caleb finds his release, a long drawn-out groan escaping him as he pulls out.
You straighten yourself, grinding yourself aimlessly against the inviting mouth beneath you as you practically ride his face until you're releasing all over his tongue. Rafayel pauses the ministrations of his tongue against your folds. Usually you’d be up for a round two, and you physically can handle one. Yet, you wanted to see what would happen if you threw in the towel early.
“Tastes so good, cutie,” Rafayel murmurs against your pussy, languidly lapping up all the drops of your arousal and happily drawing out more moans from you.
“Why don’t you share it with Caleb?” You suggest. Probably the most daring thing you’ve asked of them, making Caleb’s cheeks and the tips of Rafayel’s ears tint pink. Rafayel licks you all clean, raising his head to be met with Caleb who slightly craned his head down. He was eager to get a taste of you too.
They both lean in for a sloppy kiss, mostly tongue and slightly clashing teeth as they share the taste of you. Caleb’s hand creeps up Rafayel’s neck and Rafayel keeps a stable hold of Caleb’s jaw.
It made you throb so badly. You curl up by the pillow, much to the dismay of Caleb and Rafayel who are now kneeled on the mattress. Both of their cocks stand upright for attention as blood rushes south as a clear sign they weren’t quite done yet.
“Pips?”
“Hm?” You hum, cracking an eye open.
“Are you alright?” Caleb asks, his hand running over your shoulder. You nod absentmindedly, stretching your arms out beneath the pillow.
“I’m a little tired, guys. Will you be good without me?”
“What do you mean ‘without you’?” Rafayel inquires, laying down next to you on his side. His hand props his head up as he rests the back of his hand upon your cheek.
“I mean, help each other out. I’m pretty tuckered out.”
They both exchange a glance. Nobody wants to argue or force you to do anything, so Rafayel rises a little to sit upright after seeing your eyelids close and Caleb continues patting your shoulder.
Rafayel’s eyes fall south. Caleb’s thick erection didn’t look that imposing when Rafayel watched it thrust in and out of your pussy. Now that it’s Rafayel’s problem, he gulps.
Caleb’s eyes are more fixed on Rafayel’s hands, his nimble fingers. How many times he had watched Rafayel work your entrance open with three fingers expertly and felt his cock twitch imagining what it would feel like to experience those fingers wrapped around his own length.
They both stroke their dicks to ease the tightness from arousal. Somehow they gravitate towards each other, the heat of their shared movements ending up with them rubbing up to one another. Rafayel groans as Caleb’s mushroomed tip presses hotly against his own. The pre-cum leaking from their slits provide an easier slide of their cocks together.
Caleb reaches around to grab at Rafayel’s ass, more emboldened to resume their grinding.
You peak an eye open but they don’t even notice it, too wrapped up in chasing a release from each other. You deemed it a personal win.
They coat each other all sticky and white as they reach a peak together. Rafayel’s cum shoots upwards Caleb’s abs up to pecs. Caleb aims his more downward towards Rafayel’s navel dripping down to his thighs. Their breaths sync for a moment as they try to calm down from the high.
“You’re not too bad, fishboy,” Caleb remarks. He helps Rafayel clean up the mess that he made.
“I guess you aren’t either, Xia.”
They look over to your form. By now, you actually fell asleep. Rafayel shuffles off the bed to cover you fully with a blanket and get himself dressed.
“Where’re you going?” Caleb asks, crawling next to you to lay down.
“I’ve been a bit… inspired. I have to paint something before this feeling fades,” Rafayel responds. He presses a kiss to the nape of your neck and this time, he cares to place a kiss to Caleb’s hair.
—————————————
“Soo?” You ask, legs crossed and hands grasping your drink as you look intently over at the two guys across the table.
Rafayel pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, sipping on some fancy coffee. Caleb holds a good old americano, raising his eyebrows at your unprompted inquiry.
“Soo…” Rafayel mirrors.
“What did you guys do after I fell asleep?” You ask smugly. The two of them freeze momentarily, exchange a glance and then look back at you.
Silence.
“You can’t hide it from me, I know you guys messed around!” You point a finger their way. The two of them sigh in defeat.
“Fine. I thought about what you said and you were right,” Rafayel concedes.
“What did she tell you? ‘Cause I have a feeling we were set up,” Caleb narrows his eyes at you. You feign indifference with a shrug of your shoulders.
“I told you two the truth. If anything, you’re lucky you had me to be the divine intervention that brought you together.”
“Yeah, yeah. You just wanted us to kiss,” Caleb accuses.
“Hey, I could see you guys wanted it too,” you bite back. You weren’t going to take all the blame for it, especially when you only insinuated they were getting comfortable and they went ahead and jerked each other off.
“Let’s not argue about this,” Rafayel mediates, making you and Caleb step down from making another comment. “Why fight it when we’re happy anyway?”
There was truth in his words. You nod and continue sipping on your drink. It may have been an unconventional arrangement, but you were satisfied with how everything turned out.
Why have one boyfriend when you can have two? (¬‿¬)
Synopsis: Seven minutes in heaven with your college Rival Rafayell couldn't have been more insufferable—except it didn’t end in seven minutes. One kiss turned into another, and somehow the game bled into the night, your rivalry burning hotter in the sheets. Weeks later, you act like nothing happened between you, but Rafayel doesn’t take it lightly. Jealousy flickers sharp whenever he sees you laugh with someone else, as if you plan on pissing him off.
Content warnings: College AU, Rivals to lovers, Jealousy, Heavy Sexual tension, Kissing, Making out in the closet, Explicit sexual content, Rough sex, Possessiveness, Riding, Face fucking, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Overstimulation, Dirty talk, Manhandling, Marking/bruising, Jealousy-fueled intimacy, Consensual but rough dynamics, Rafayel gets jealous, mc wants to piss him off
Word count: 10k
chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 — ao3
Chapter 1 - Push and Pull
You despised Rafayel Qi more than you ever wanted to admit, and nothing in this life would have satisfied you more than wiping that smug, infuriating smirk off his face. He was the kind of insufferable you could spot from across a lecture hall, lounging in his seat like the world existed for his amusement, tossing out comments that were always just sharp enough to get under your skin.
For the past two years, he’d been your personal plague, an ever-present thorn in your side. And somewhere, deep down in the place you didn’t like to acknowledge, you almost admired his persistence—how one man could make you want to strangle him in every single encounter.
He never knew when to shut up. Always poking, always pushing, like testing the limits of your patience was his chosen sport. And oh, how you’d made it your mission to give it right back, to make his life just as miserable in return. That was the thing about the two of you, a perfect disaster of cause and effect. The light and the fuse. People didn’t even bother asking how your latest spat had started—they just assumed it had, because it always did.
On campus, your names had become inseparable in the worst possible way, whispered together with knowing grins or exasperated sighs. Group projects? A nightmare. Debate class? Civil war. Even casual conversations in the cafeteria would somehow pivot to, “Did you hear what Rafayel said to her this time?”
You hated it, hated that your name was tethered to his like some cosmic joke.
You could still hear his voice from that afternoon in the library, casual and smooth as ever, leaning over the table with that lazy smile. “Relax, cutie,” he’d said, sliding your textbook toward himself without asking. “If you keep glaring at me with that expression, people are going to think that you fancy me.”
You had snatched the book back, teeth clenched. “The only thing I fancy is the idea of never having to see your face again.”
He’d only laughed, low and infuriating. “Harsh. Guess I’ll just have to make sure you keep seeing it, then.”
You couldn’t begin to fathom what crime you had committed—whether in this life or some unfortunate past one—to deserve being stuck with him every few weeks. Yet here you were, standing on the soft, beer-stained carpet, surrounded by a cloud of cheap perfume, laughter, and the low thrum of bass shaking the floorboards. Alcohol hummed in your veins, warm and distracting, while the partygoers whooped and hollered around the circle.
A chipped glass bottle spun on the floor, wobbling to a stop as if it had been conspiring against you all night. You stared at it like it had just declared war on you, because, of course, the neck was pointing directly at Rafayel.
For a fleeting, wicked moment, you considered grabbing it and cracking it over his annoyingly perfect head. Seven minutes in heaven. With him.
The crowd erupted—half in mock horror, half in the kind of delight that came from watching a train wreck you couldn’t look away from. Simone and Tara exchanged a wide-eyed glance that said they were both surprised and already placing mental bets.
You narrowed your eyes at them, but before you could say a word, movement caught your attention. Rafayel was already walking toward the closet—no hesitation, no acknowledgment of the chaos he left in his wake. He didn’t even look back at you, as if it was a foregone conclusion you’d follow.
That arrogant prick.
You scoffed under your breath and stood, brushing imaginary lint off your jeans, mostly to keep from flipping him off in front of everyone. Simone and Tara nudged each other like middle schoolers about to watch a fight, grinning as though they hadn’t just sold you out to the devil himself.
“Don’t wait up,” you muttered at them, your voice sharp enough to cut.
A guy from somewhere in the back yelled, “My money’s on murder!”
Another chimed in, “Nah, they’re either gonna make out or burn the place down.”
You ignored them all, though your jaw tightened. Seven whole minutes trapped in a cramped, dark space with Rafayel—his cologne, his smug smirk, his constant need to one-up you. And as you reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder at last, that infuriating grin playing on his lips.
“Don’t look so thrilled, cutie,” he drawled, holding the closet door open just wide enough for you to pass. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle you could still see. “You wish.”
His smirk deepened, lazy and sure of himself. “I do,” he said lightly, stepping in after you. “But it’s more fun when you do too.”
The door clicked shut, sealing you into seven minutes of hell. You pressed yourself into the farthest corner as the door shut, sealing out the noise of the party. Darkness swallowed the cramped space, save for a sliver of light leaking through the crack between the door and frame. Your breath caught—not from nerves, you told yourself, but from the sudden proximity.
His cologne lingered in the air, warm and heady, with some other undertone—salted, oceanic—that clung stubbornly in your head. The realization annoyed you more than his actual presence. It was unfair, you thought, that someone so irritating could smell that good.
A faint brush against your arm made you flinch. You turned your head sharply, catching the faint outline of his profile in the gloom.
“Keep to your own space, yeah?” you muttered, your voice low but sharp. You tried to shift farther away, but the closet was far too small, and you hated the way every movement brought you back within reach of him.
His laugh came quiet but deep, curling at the edges with smugness. “My bad, princess,” he murmured, leaning just close enough for the warmth of his words to ghost over your cheek. “Didn’t realize I’d already stepped on your toes tonight.”
You shot him a glare, even if you knew he probably couldn’t see much of it in the dark. His arm was still brushing yours, his casual lean making it clear he had no intention of shifting away.
“I will step on yours if you don’t move,” you warned, crossing your arms tight over your chest and turning your body slightly to shield yourself.
Instead of taking the hint, he tilted his head lazily. “So aggressive tonight,” he said softly, mock sweetness dripping from the words. “Acting like this isn’t the highlight of your night.”
You huffed, the sound sharp in the close air. “In what universe would this be my highlight?”
“In mine,” he answered smoothly, without missing a beat.
You scoffed, the sound sharp in the thick air between you. “You’re so full of yourself, Rafayel.” the words left your mouth like you were flicking a match, each syllable meant to cut.
He only hummed in response, low and lazy, and you hated how close the sound came—how it brushed over your ear like the faintest touch. The closet was warm, the air stale, and you could barely make out anything in the dark. But the sliver of light from the doorframe caught just enough of his face to make his expression clear—amused, entertained, like this was his own private game.
You scoffed again, softer this time, if only to keep from saying something that would sound too much like admitting defeat. He chuckled quietly, that smug undercurrent in every note, and then his arm brushed yours again. You stiffened, your jaw tightening on instinct, but he didn’t shift away. Instead, he leaned in just slightly, tilting his head toward you until you could feel the faint stir of his breath. One hand came up to brace himself on the wall behind you, close enough that you could feel the subtle press of his body against yours.
Your pulse ticked up despite yourself. This was absurd. Infuriating. And yet your chest felt tighter than it should.
“Stop touching me,” you hissed, shifting back as far as the wall would allow.
He gave a quiet laugh, as though you’d just said something endearing. “Where exactly do you want me to go, cutie?” he murmured, voice low enough that you almost missed it. “Closet’s only so big.”
The worst part was that he was right. There wasn’t an inch of space left between you. You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he could probably see the movement in the faint light. “Try harder.”
“Oh, I am,” he replied smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin you could hear in his voice.
Seven minutes had never felt longer.
He smirked, leaning in just enough to test your patience, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly casual tone he always used when he knew he was getting under your skin.
“Kind of convenient, isn’t it?” he murmured, the words brushing against you like a challenge. “Whole party out there, and somehow you end up locked in here with me. Almost like you rigged it. Guess you really can’t stay away, cutie.” his next words ignited the fire in you even harder, “Especially since you can’t beat me when it actually counts.”
Your teeth clenched, heat prickling at the back of your neck. Before you could think better of it, your hand shot out, gripping the front of his shirt and tugging him just enough to close the already minuscule space between you.
“You’re delusional,” your voice was low and pointed, every word pressed like a blade. “Your ego must be eating what’s left of your brain, because you’re lying to yourself if you think I’d choose this. I’d rather be anywhere else.”
You held his gaze, and now you were close enough to make out the sharp line of his jaw, the faint curve of his mouth, and—annoyingly—just how clear his eyes looked in the thin strip of light. He stared back at you with the same infuriating calm, only a slow tug of a smirk breaking the stillness.
“Funny,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for his breath to mingle with yours. “You’re the one hanging on to my clothes like you’re about to tear them off.”
Your own smile curled, deceptively sweet. “I’d rather tear your head off.”
The space between you tightened, silent except for the shallow drag of your breaths. You hated that the air felt heavier now, that the warmth radiating from him made your skin hum in awareness. Neither of you moved back, both locked in the same unspoken dare you’d been passing between each other since the day you met.
He smirked, and you felt your jaw tighten in sync with the way your fingers curled, bunching the front of his shirt in a hard grip. He was too close, close enough that your breath caught against his, every inhale shared in the warm, cramped dark. Your pulse spiked, not that you’d admit it, not even to yourself.
You hated this. Absolutely hated him.
A sharp scoff escaped you before you planted a hand against his chest, shoving him back just enough to reclaim a sliver of space. But before you could take another step away, his arm moved and slid down from the wall behind you until his hand brushed against your waist, steadying himself.
The light contact made your pulse trip over itself. You grit your teeth, biting back the words that wanted to snarl at him to stop touching you—though you weren’t sure if you meant it entirely.
“You don’t seem in a rush for me to let go,” his voice was carrying that lazy taunt that made every nerve in you itch. His hand stayed exactly where it was, with more purpose now, his fingers settling with a certain confidence at your waist.
Your glare could have cut glass. “What kind of delusional state gives you the nerve to think you can touch me?”
You shoved at his chest again, harder this time, but his grip only tightened, pulling you forward with the movement so that your body collided with his. Your breath left you in a startled grunt, the solid heat of him impossible to ignore.
You looked up at him, startled and seething, yet heat coiled traitorously low in your stomach at the new position. Every sharp exchange, every smug remark he lobbed your way had wound itself into something you refused to name, and you’d sooner die than admit Rafayel could have that kind of effect on you.
His smirk curved lower, slower this time, his voice brushing over you like the edge of a dare. “I like it when you bite back,” he murmured, leaning just enough that the air between you thinned. “Makes me wonder what you’d do if I touched you… on purpose.”
His gaze flicked down briefly, then back to yours, full of quiet challenge. “My guess? Not much. You can’t really one-up me.”
The air felt heavy, your breaths matching his in a quick, uneven rhythm. Tension held you both still, tethered in the narrow space between his chest and yours.
“Cocky bastard,” you whispered, every word sharpened between clenched teeth. “You’ll get more than you bargained for.” you tilted your chin up, closing the space by a fraction, your lips nearly grazing his. “So either move your hand… or I’ll make you.”
His smile didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened infuriatingly slow, like he was savoring the moment.
“Yeah?” his voice dipped just enough to brush against something inside you. “And how exactly would you make me?”
His fingers tightened on your waist, not painfully, but with the kind of deliberate pressure that felt like he was testing how far he could push before you snapped. Heat surged under your skin, your muscles tensing as your breath came shallow, matching his.
You couldn’t even say who moved first—only that suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and unyielding, all teeth and heat and reckless challenge. He kissed like he expected you to fight him, so you did, matching the push of his lips with your own bite until the taste of him left you dizzy.
Your whole body pressed into him, seeking leverage you didn’t want to admit you needed. His grip on your waist anchored you, pulling you closer until there was no space left to guard. Your teeth caught his lower lip, hard enough to pull a groan from his chest, low and rough.
The cramped heat of the closet wrapped around you both, the world reduced to the tangle of limbs and breath and the sharp scent of him. Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging as his bent knee slid between yours, shifting your weight until your back met the wall again with a muted thud.
He didn’t stop. Your mouths were a frenzy—hot, rough, and desperate in a way neither of you would ever admit aloud. Your hands clutched at him, fisting the fabric of his shirt, not to pull him closer—though it felt that way—but to keep yourself from stumbling under the force of it all.
The taste of him lingered on your tongue, sharp and consuming, each kiss a challenge neither of you wanted to lose.
You bit at his lower lip, he returned the favor, and your tongues tangled in a battle for dominance that left both of you breathing ragged. Teeth grazed swollen lips and the sensitive skin just beneath, his mouth dragging down to your neck. His lips were warm, his breath hotter, and when he sucked a mark there, his smirk was felt more than seen.
“Someone’s enjoying themselves,” he rasped against your skin, his voice low enough to scrape over your nerves.
“Shut up,” you bit back, shoving at his shoulder, though your body betrayed you, arching into him when his hands—bolder now—slipped beneath the hem of your shirt.
Your mouth found his again, urgent and unrestrained, and you yanked hard on his hair, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. The sound vibrated against your lips, and heat pooled low in your stomach.
You were both panting now, breaths coming fast and shallow, and then you felt his bulge—hard against your hip, impossible to ignore. His thigh pressed between yours, and without thinking, you grinded down against it, the friction dizzying.
He groaned again, but this time it was laced with that infuriating amusement. “Cute,” he drawled, his tone deliberately light, even as his grip on you tightened. “Almost desperate. Must be all that pent-up frustration from wanting to fuck me this whole time.”
Your nails dragged slow beneath his shirt, scratching from his ribs down to his stomach before sliding back up again. The movement earned a low, unrestrained groan from him, his breath hitching just enough to make you smirk—though you didn’t get long to savor the victory.
His hands were already on you, firm and unapologetic as they cupped your ass, pulling you down against the solid line of his thigh. The friction sent a jolt through you both, making your bodies lurch together, grunts and gasps spilling into the heat between your mouths.
Even breathless, neither of you could resist the game.
“Feel that?” he smirked, the words curling against your ear in a delicious rasp as he shifted his leg just right, making you gasp. “You’re soaking through, cutie. Didn’t know you could get this wet just from grinding on me.”
You hissed through your teeth, catching his smirk in your peripheral, and refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.
“Yeah? Then maybe you should be more worried about yourself,” you shot back, your voice low and edged with heat. Your fingers slipped lower, brushing the waistband of his jeans. “You’re so hard, Rafayel. I bet if I touched you just a little, you’d cum in seconds.”
His grip tightened at that, a subtle, wordless admission he wouldn’t dare voice.
What you don’t expect is his low, rough voice brushing against the shell of your ear like he knows exactly what it does to you.
“Go on,” he murmurs, the words warm and wicked, “be a good girl… touch me. We could help each other out.” The tease is casual, almost lazy, but the weight of it coils heat deep in your stomach.
Before you can throw a retort, his fingers are already at your waistband, dragging the zipper down in a slow, deliberate pull. Then his hand slips inside, the heat of his palm startling against your skin. His breath hitches in something like satisfaction, and a soft grunt escapes him, carrying both a praise and a taunt.
“Slippery already,” he drawls, his tone dipping just enough to make it sound like a secret. “Must’ve been desperate for me, huh? Can’t help yourself… even just being close to me gets you like this.”
You grit your teeth, trying to swallow the sound building in your throat, but it escapes anyway—a low, unsteady moan—as his fingers slide inside you. He doesn’t ease in; his pace starts steady, controlled, and just dizzying enough to steal your breath.
You’re too far gone to argue, too caught between his touch and the heat thrumming through you to remember whatever insult you’d been ready to throw. Instead, you crush your mouth to his, the kiss greedy and unrestrained, tasting of defiance. His fingers work inside you in a steady, deliberate rhythm, just enough to make your knees threaten to give.
You don’t let him have all the satisfaction. Your hand drifts lower, finding the hard outline pressing against his jeans, rubbing in the same measured pace he’s set for you. The sound he makes is low and rough, pulled from somewhere deep, and you drink it in like victory.
Your mouths stay locked, swallowing each other’s shallow pants and quiet moans, the kiss breaking only for sharp gasps before crashing together again. Teeth catch lips, fingers dig into clothes and skin, both of you pushing harder, faster—daring the other to give in first.
The tension snaps for you in a shiver, your body tightening around his fingers as heat floods through you. He swallows your moan like it’s his, kissing you harder, deeper, until you’re dizzy. A moment later, his hips jerk, a muted groan breaking against your mouth as he follows, the heat between you spilling over into something ragged and messy.
Still, neither of you pull away. You kiss until your lips are bruised, until breath comes in broken pulls, until it’s impossible to tell if you’re clinging from want or because neither of you can stand without the other holding you up.
“Pretty sure that was more than seven minutes,” he murmured against your neck, his tone dripping with satisfaction before his teeth sank into your skin in playful retaliation.
A sharp sound slipped from you—half moan, half hiss—your body still humming from the high, even as irritation flickered hot in your chest.
“Who knew all it would take was a couple of my fingers to strip some of that attitude away, cutie?” he added, the bait curling lazily from his lips like he already knew you’d take it.
Your response was wordless at first—a firm grip on the half-hard length straining against his jeans, followed by a hiss against his neck as your other hand tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him suck in a breath.
“How about,” your voice was low and edged with challenge, “you get me out of here and fuck me until it’s all gone, hm?”
His mouth crashed onto yours before you could blink, the kiss bruising and impatient. His hands gripped your ass and hips with a possessive force, pulling you flush against him as his smirk ghosted over your lips.
“Gladly,” he breathed, smug as ever.
“Bastard,” you muttered against his mouth, earning nothing more than a quiet laugh before he hauled you out of the cramped closet.
The hallway erupted in whistles and amused voices from classmates, but Rafayel didn’t so much as glance at them—his only focus fixed entirely, and unapologetically, on you.
—
Your hands roamed over him in desperate, greedy paths, grabbing at whatever skin you could reach—his back, his shoulders, the flex of his arms—as he drove into you with slow, delicious thrusts that somehow felt both sweet and merciless. His body hovered above yours, holding you caged between his hips and the mattress, each movement pulling ragged moans from your throat.
The air between you was hot, tangled with the sound of panting breaths and the wet heat of messy, biting kisses that kept breaking and reforming like neither of you could stay away for long.
“I can bet,” he moaned between thrusts, his voice rough but edged with that familiar smirk, “you were this wet every time you argued back at me… isn’t that right?”
His flushed face hovered over yours, his gaze locked on you as his palm slid over your breast, kneading and teasing your nipple until it peaked under his touch.
You answered with a scoffing moan, biting back the urge to roll your eyes even as pleasure shot through you when he angled his hips just right, hitting deep enough to make your stomach clench. You lifted your hips to meet his thrusts, still unwilling to give him the full satisfaction of your surrender.
“Why don’t you quit being insufferable,” you grunted, your voice breaking when his teeth grazed your neck, “and fuck me properly instead?”
His fingers found your clit mid-sentence, circling in maddening, precise strokes that made your breath stutter. “Make me cum again, I’m close.”
“Who am I to refuse you, princess?” he mocked in a low, wicked whisper, his tone all heat and challenge.
Your back arched helplessly into him as release tore through you, your body tightening around his cock in pulsing waves. His hips jerked with the rhythm of your climax, your moans mixing with his as you dragged him into a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s sounds. His grip on your hip tightened hard enough to leave faint, perfect marks you’d find later, a wordless claim in the shape of his fingers.
Your palms pressed firmly to his chest, the heat of his skin slick under your fingers as your nails dug in for balance. You rode him in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, each movement pulling a groan from deep in his throat.
Your head tipped back, lips parted, the sound of your panting filling the room as your breasts bounced with every rise and fall. His mouth caught one nipple, sucking greedily before his teeth grazed the sensitive peak just enough to make your muscles tighten around him.
“This must be new to you, right?” he asked, though the lift of his brows and the smug curve of his mouth made it sound more like confirmation than curiosity. His tone was breathless, feigning innocence, which only made it worse.
Too lost in the way his cock filled you, you could only grunt between gasps, “What are you talking about?”
His hands tightened on your waist, guiding you down harder onto him. He murmured against your chest, his lips brushing your skin before closing around your nipple again, biting until a moan escaped you.
“Being on top,” he rasped with a smirk you could hear, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “Considering you’re never above me in anything.”
The taunt was punctuated by a sharp thrust upward, his hips grinding into you as a low grunt rumbled from his chest. “How do you like it, princess?”
You bent forward, bracing a hand against his jaw, then sliding it to the back of his neck as his eyes locked on yours—amethyst and heat-drunk, his lips wet and kiss-bruised. Through a breathless moan, you rasped out your answer, your nails biting into his skin.
“Would like it better,” you panted, “if you didn’t run your mouth.”
He only smirked, that maddening curve of his lips catching the dim light before he ducked down to suck another mark into your neck—one of many already burning along your skin. His smugness was infuriating, but it was harder to focus on that when you felt him twitch inside you, his cock hitting deep enough to blur your vision.
“Oh, but you do like when I run my mouth, don’t ya?” his voice was low, curling with amusement before he caught your lips in a kiss that was all heat and teeth and unspent tension. You kept moving on him, chasing the high with relentless rhythm, your breath breaking against his. “Seemed to love it a few minutes ago,” he murmured between kisses, “when it was between your legs.”
A sharp moan tore from you when his thumb found your clit, already slick and swollen from the previous orgasm he pulled from you. The touch was almost too much, your body clenching around him in a shiver that drew a low, unrestrained groan from his chest. He chuckled against your skin, his fingers digging into the soft curve of your ass as if he meant to keep you exactly where you were.
“I even recall you moaning my name so nicely when you came around my tongue…” his voice rasped against your ear, warm enough to send a shiver down your spine.
Your head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as you bounced harder, your mouth falling open on a broken gasp. You were so close you could taste it.
“Never heard my name sound that sweet from your mouth before,” he taunted, his words smug but tangled with his own uneven breaths, knowing it must turn you on.
The sound of his grunts matched the rhythm of your moans, your bodies locked in a pace that was more a challenge than surrender, both of you teetering at the edge.
You blocked out the smug noise spilling from his lips, focusing instead on keeping your rhythm steady despite the burn in your thighs. Your voice came out shaky but biting, laced with challenge. “You better not cum before I do, asshole.”
Your teeth sank into your lower lip hard enough to sting, and his answering thrust made your head tip back. He met your pace with deep, upward drives of his hips, each one threatening to push you over. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, guiding you, controlling the motion as if he owned the moment and you.
“Don’t worry that pretty head, cutie,” he chuckled between low, rough grunts, the sound vibrating against your chest when he leaned in. His eyes drank you in—your slack jaw, your unfocused gaze, the way pleasure had stolen the sharp edges of your expression. “I wouldn’t miss the chance to watch you cum around my cock… so freaking beautiful like this…”
His lips brushed your neck in a fleeting kiss just before your body seized around him. Heat and pleasure tore through you, your thighs trembling violently as you came with a broken, shaky moan. You felt the wet rush coat him, spill between you, soak into the sheets beneath.
His groan was deep and rough, the sound dragging low in his chest as his hips faltered. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was seconds away; you could feel it in the iron grip of his hands on your hips, in the heat radiating from his skin, in the breath he caught like he was holding back the inevitable.
Leaning down, you caught the warm line of his neck between your teeth, biting hard enough to draw another groan from him. Your lips found the sweet spot just beneath his ear, sucking until his muscles tensed under you.
That was all it took—he jerked inside you, twitching hard as heat spilled into you in thick, pulsing waves, coating your sensitive walls until you could feel it drip. His head tipped back, breath ragged, and you felt the faintest chuckle rumble in his chest, even through the haze of release.
“Can’t ever say you hate me now,” he rasped, his voice still rough with the edge of release, “not after letting me mark you like this, cutie.”
Before you could snap back, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that stole the rest of your breath. It was searing and messy, all heat and teeth, his lips moving against yours like he had no intention of letting you go any time soon. Your bodies were still pressed tight, the aftershocks thrumming between you, and every pull of his mouth tasted faintly of victory.
—
Rafayel wasn’t the type to cling to jealousy or waste energy on expectations he never asked for—but watching you slip back into that same dynamic, as if nothing had happened between you, lit something sharp and ugly under his skin. It was one thing to keep up the bickering, the constant push-and-pull you two seemed addicted to, but being so close to anyone else in this place? Laughing, leaning in, letting other people into your space the way you let him, even if just for one night? That ticked him off more than he wanted to admit.
He could lie to everyone else, but not to himself. He was jealous. Or at the very least, bothered—more than before, more than he had any right to be. Especially since you seemed intent on shoving it in his face, as though proving just how easily you could cozy up to other guys on campus might put him in his place.
Seeing you dance with that colleague tonight had made his jaw tighten, a scoff of disbelief escaping before he could bite it back. Because he knew better—he knew what you wanted. He’d felt it in every heated moment you’d given him, in the way your body melted under his hands, pliant no matter how sharp your words were.
You could pretend, you could deny—but he’d already dragged the truth out of you in the dark, in the messy rhythm of tangled sheets and bitten lips. And tonight, all he could think about was how you’d come undone for him, over and over again, chasing release like a spark to a fuse you couldn’t stop lighting—and now you were cozying up with another man.
The dynamic between you hadn’t shifted in the slightest—you still scoffed, still snapped at him, every exchange bristling with the same defiance he had come to expect. Normally, Rafayel thrived on it; it was what made this little game so addictive. But tonight, with the taste of you still burned into his memory, he had hoped for something different—some flicker of change, even if you refused to admit it.
He caught you alone near the drinks table, slipping into your space without hesitation, his shadow falling across you as you tipped the bottle. You turned your head sharply, eyes narrowing, your scoff cutting through the din of music and chatter. “What do you want now, Rafayel?”
The tone—biting, impatient—made his jaw twitch. Normally it thrilled him, but the sharp edge tonight dug deeper. Did you really despise his presence that much? Even now, after everything?
He leaned one elbow against the counter as though he had all the time in the world, his amethyst eyes catching the low light and glinting with that practiced, playful spark. He slipped the mask on as easily as a second skin, the one he always wore with you. “Back to making me work for your attention, I see.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring the weight of his gaze as you poured yourself a shot. The liquid burned down your throat, leaving your lips wet when you licked the taste away. His eyes tracked the movement without restraint, though you didn’t seem to notice.
“Sometimes I seriously wonder if you don’t have better things to do than pester me all day,” you muttered, as though the idea of his presence alone grated on you.
He nearly laughed, the sound curling up the back of his throat, but the bitterness still lingered like ash. He could hide it well—he always did—but something in his chest coiled tighter, a heaviness he couldn’t smirk his way out of.
He poured himself a shot like it was second nature, tossing it back with the same careless ease he wore like armor. Then he leaned in, closing the space between you with an unbothered smirk tugging at his lips.
“Gonna pretend it never happened, is that it, princess?” his eyes found yours in the low light, sharp against sharp, daring you to flinch first.
You leaned in too, your voice dropping to a hiss that barely carried over the music. “Stop calling me that.”
His laugh was low, warm, almost affectionate in its own infuriating way. “Funny,” he murmured, tilting his glass aside. “Had you in my bed, moaning for me, and the first thing you pick up after is that attitude.”
Your glare could have cut straight through him. You scoffed, turning your head deliberately, your gaze sweeping the room—for him, it wasn’t hard to guess who you were looking for. The guy you’d been dancing with earlier. His jaw tightened before he could stop it, the weight of his stare narrowing back on you.
His voice came out rougher now, laced with the edge of something he usually hid behind a smirk. “So that’s what it is. Maybe I should fuck you slow next time. Sweet, steady—see if that’d finally get you to acknowledge it.” his head tilted slightly, the words a challenge, a taunt, but his eyes searched yours like he wanted the truth more than the fight.
You laughed, the sound sharp as glass. Through your teeth, bitter but smiling just enough to sting, you shot back, “There’s no next time. And I’d rather you dropped the cocky act.” your gaze flicked up, unwavering. “Not everyone wants to end up in your bed, Rafayel.”
The smirk didn’t falter on his lips, but the burn of your words sank under his skin all the same. Oh, how he loved your attitude. The sharpness in your voice, the fire in your glare—it always turned him on, but tonight it scraped against something else too. Annoyance. You dismissed him so easily, brushed everything off as if it hadn’t mattered, as if you’d rather erase it than admit it was real.
But he couldn’t forget. He didn’t want to forget the sound of your moans, the way your nails dug into his skin, the bite of your teeth against his shoulder, your mouth desperate and hot on his. Every mark you’d left on him still burned under his skin.
His smirk came quick, practiced, though his jaw ticked in irritation he couldn’t quite swallow down. “Well, you wanted it,” he drawled, voice low enough to coil between you, “and you seemed pretty determined to show me just how badly.”
The proof lingered—your mark, blooming faint but undeniable on the side of his neck. He saw the flicker in your expression when your eyes caught it, the twitch of your jaw before your glare sharpened even further.
You spit your words back at him, close enough now that he could smell you. Sweet perfume, deliberate and light, clinging to your skin like temptation. The thought of you applying it for someone else—for that guy you’d been pressed against earlier—made his stomach knot in a way he refused to admit. His smirk stayed fixed, masking the flare of heat in his chest, but it didn’t quiet the urge that nearly consumed him—to press his face into your neck, breathe you in, and let himself get drunk on you.
“Seriously, what’s your fucking problem?” you snapped, each word sharp enough to cut. “Yeah, we fucked. So what? You expect me to drop at your feet now and suck you off or something?”
Every syllable was a double-edged knife—turning him on even as it lit a flame of irritation low in his chest. Did you really think that’s what he wanted from you? While he’d never be opposed to the thought, that wasn’t it. Not even close. What he wanted was for you to stop pretending it meant nothing, to stop brushing it off like you hadn’t melted under him, clawed at him, begged for more until your voice broke.
His eyes lingered on yours, refusing to look away, holding the heat of your glare. You looked pissed, but he couldn’t tell if it was your usual game or if he’d really struck a nerve this time, dug under your skin deeper than you wanted him to.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he said smoothly, smirking like he hadn’t just swallowed down the words he really wanted to say—that you were driving him insane, that you’d taken root under his skin, that it wasn’t just your body he wanted. He tilted his head slightly, voice curling like smoke as he added, “Do you want me begging for it first?”
The faint shift in your expression—hesitation, surprise, something flickering behind your eyes—was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. You scoffed, your laugh short and bitter, already angling your body away like you’d had enough.
“I want you to leave me alone,” you shot back, each word bitten off like you meant to end it right there. Your smile was cutting, the kind meant to dismiss, to wound. “Enjoy the party, Rafayel.”
And before he could stop you, you turned toward the crowd—toward him, the other guy—and something inside him twisted sharp, the smirk still plastered on his face doing nothing to smother the frustration building in his chest.
Watching you dance, flirt, and laugh with that guy for hours ticked Rafayel off in ways he couldn’t keep buried—not with alcohol humming in his veins. His eyes followed the sway of your hips, the way sweat caught the low lights on your skin, turning you into something untouchable and magnetic. The guy had slipped away a few minutes ago, probably for another drink or a bathroom break—Rafayel couldn’t be bothered to care.
His focus was on you, only you. The words you’d thrown at him earlier replayed like a broken record in his mind, cutting sharper every time. He hadn’t expected you to cling to him, hadn’t even expected softness or anything close to it—but acting as if you hadn’t spent a night tangled together, bodies desperate, mouths bruised—it set something raw and restless burning in him.
He hated it. Hated how much it mattered. Hated the circumstances, hated that it made him feel like this—like he wanted to drag you away and make you admit every mark you left on his skin meant something more than just a mistake. And he knew it would probably end badly. But watching another man press into your space, lay hands on you—watching you let him, welcome him—it made his blood run hotter than the whiskey in his glass.
Rafayel wasn’t stupid enough to believe you were doing it on purpose just to rile him up. But still, the thought gnawed at him. The possibility that you knew exactly what effect you had on him—and chose to wield it—made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t laugh off anymore.
Your hips swayed slow and unbothered to the rhythm, a lazy, carefree roll that pulled him in before he could stop himself. You hadn’t even realized who pressed up behind you—he could see it in the way you welcomed the touch too easily, as if you thought it was that other guy. That thought alone made his jaw clench, the bitter edge of alcohol still coating his tongue.
His hands settled on your waist, fingers splaying possessively over the curve, and you arched in response without hesitation. That simple movement—that you’d done it for someone else—made frustration coil low and sharp in his chest. His grip tightened, pulling you flush as he dipped his face into the slope of your neck. The scent of your perfume laced with heat and sweat filled his head, dizzying, intoxicating, far too easy to get drunk on.
“You smell so good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low enough to sink right into your bones.
You stiffened instantly, the realization snapping through you. It was him, not the guy you thought. Your body shifted as if to turn, to throw him a glare or maybe shove him away, but his arms circled tighter around your waist, holding you still, pressing you into the steady rise of his chest. His nose brushed just beneath your ear, his mouth dragging close enough that his words threaded warmth into your skin.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked, your voice pitched low, sharp but not steady—caught off guard, unsettled.
His lips ghosted another breath over your neck, dangerous and calm all at once, the lazy drawl of his voice cutting through the bass of the music. “Couldn’t keep watching that guy put his hands all over you.”
You scoffed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of stillness, your body swaying side to side with the beat as though he weren’t pressed so close. He took it for annoyance, maybe even defiance, and you threw your words like sparks over your shoulder. “Then don’t fucking look, Rafayel. It isn’t any of your business.”
His chest brushed against your back, solid and warm, crowding you until there was no space left to claim as your own. You rolled your hips again, half in spite, half because fighting him always ended like this—like gravity itself had shifted around him. His breath trembled against your neck, catching faintly on the perfume he couldn’t seem to stop drinking in.
“Are you drunk?” you muttered, sharp with irritation.
“No,” he rasped, voice rougher than usual, his hips sliding in sync with yours. The deliberate press made it impossible to ignore the unmistakable hardness straining against your ass. His fingers found your hips, not tentative but claiming, tightening when you didn’t shrug him off.
You scoffed under your breath, but your body betrayed you, still moving, still letting him. “Then why the hell are you all over me right now?”
He didn’t answer in words first. His lips ghosted along your neck, deliberate and lazy, before catching against your skin in a kiss that lingered too long to be innocent. He pulled your hips flush against his, making sure you felt exactly what you’d provoked, exactly how hard he was.
“It’s how it should be,” he murmured, his voice a low curl of smoke, the smirk etched against your skin as he leaned into your ear. “So do me a favor, cutie, and tell that guy to back off.”
Your laugh came sharp, edged with a bite. “I thought I told you to back off, Rafayel.” still, your hips betrayed the venom of your words, grinding against him like you couldn’t stop yourself. “I’m leaving home soon, anyway.”
That pushed him too far. His patience snapped into something darker, frustration coiled tight with want. His mouth brushed your ear, tone suddenly rougher, meaner, though still soaked in heat. “The next words out your mouth better not be that you’re leaving with him.”
His grip tightened at your waist, and the pressure sent a shiver down your spine no matter how hard you tried to fight it. You hated that your body still reacted, hated that even when you were frustrated—angry, even—it didn’t stop the rush of heat that pooled beneath your skin.
His breath brushed your ear as he leaned in, the low bass of the music vibrating through the floor and through your bones, but all you could hear was him. The two of you swayed together, not to the rhythm, but to something far more reckless.
“Get your act together, Rafayel.” your voice cut sharp, laced with sarcasm as you turned to face him. The flashing lights caught the tension in your jaw, as tight and unyielding as his own, and for a moment it felt like you weren’t dancing so much as locked in combat.
His lips curved—not into a smile, not really—but into that insufferable smirk he wore whenever he wanted to rile you. “Mm, harsh. Though, to be fair, I’m not the one grinding against strangers for an audience.” his words came low, casual, but there was a rawness underneath, the kind that betrayed too much.
Your eyes narrowed, voice dripping with annoyance. “You’re either drunk out of your mind, or you’re jealous. Whichever it is—you have no right to say that.”
His hold only tightened, and the jealousy he refused to name aloud lingered in every breath he refused to let you take alone. His jaw ticked, a scoff breaking past his lips. It was supposed to sound amused, the way it usually did when he was poking at you, but the laugh carried a sharpness he couldn’t quite disguise. Jealousy bled through no matter how smooth he tried to make it. His eyes locked on yours, unblinking, the crowd and the music dissolving into a blur behind you.
“Don’t go home with him.” the words came out low, bitten off, heavier than he intended.
You scoffed, the sound sharp enough to cut, pushing against his chest to put some space between you. He barely gave, his body rooted in place, but you turned anyway, your voice tossed over your shoulder, drowned by the bass but still slicing through him all the same. “Unbelievable.”
The sway of your hips as you walked away was infuriating, deliberate, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. His jaw clenched tighter, watching you head straight toward the direction that bastard had gone. Before the thought could even settle, his hand shot out, catching your wrist.
You barely had time to gasp before he was dragging you through the crush of bodies, threading you through the mess of perfume and sweat and music until the two of you spilled into a darker corner, half-hidden near the bathroom hallway.
“What the fu—” the curse was barely past your lips before his mouth was on you.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t measured. It was a smash of lips and teeth and bottled-up want that burned through every ounce of restraint he had left. He couldn’t hear another word of you telling him to back off, couldn’t stand the thought of you storming away toward anyone but him.
And to his reckless satisfaction, you didn’t shove him off. Not right away. Instead your lips parted, your tongue chasing his with a heat that shocked him as much as it thrilled him. The back of your shoulders hit the wall with a thud, and he pinned you there, his hand curling around your jaw like he needed to hold you still, like he couldn’t risk you slipping through his fingers again.
He broke just enough space to breathe, his forehead nearly pressed to yours, breath ragged against your lips. His voice was hoarse, raw in a way you’d never heard. “I’m jealous.”
The confession scraped out of him like it cost something, but his eyes didn’t waver. They bore into you, dark, heated, a storm of frustration and something softer underneath. His cheeks were warm, but his gaze was sharp, almost accusing.
“Didn’t think your little act of indifference would get to me, and it didn’t at first,” he said, his tone clipped, defensive, as if he needed to convince himself more than you. His fingers dug harder into your hips, holding you where you were, his frustration bleeding through every touch.
“Until I saw him all over you. And you—” his jaw tightened again, the words heavier, almost bitten through his teeth. “You couldn’t have welcomed him more sweetly.”
“Is that so?” you scoffed, though the sound came out thinner than you wanted, betraying the heat gathering in your chest. His eyes caught the flicker of yours dropping just once to his mouth before darting back up, a slip you couldn’t take back. You hated that he noticed, hated the way he thrived on it, as if your irritation was his favorite game.
“I don’t remember owing you anything, Rafayel,” you managed through a ragged breath, voice sharp but trembling at the edges.
His grip tightened at your waist, fingers digging into the fabric just enough to make you stumble the slightest step into him. The closeness burned. There were people all around you—laughing, drunk, tangled in the music—but the crowd blurred into nothing, leaving only the thrum of his pulse pressed against yours, the friction of your remarks colliding.
“It’s like you’re trying to piss me off on purpose,” he muttered, low and rough, the words curling warm against your ear before his mouth stole yours.
The kiss was hard, bruising—more a clash than a surrender—but your body betrayed you, answering with the same fever. Your fingers curled into the half-buttoned placket of his shirt, yanking him closer until the last breath of air between you vanished. He groaned against your lips, the sound half frustration, half need, his tongue meeting yours in a reckless tangle. The taste of him was dizzying—bitter with jealousy, sweet with desire—and it made your head spin worse than the alcohol.
When he tore back just enough to speak, his voice was ragged, every word bitten off as though it cost him something.
“I’m jealous and pissed, and so fucking turned on.” his teeth grazed your skin as he caught the line of your jaw, then your throat, nipping at the place where your pulse fluttered out of control.
His breath spilled hot over your perfume, a scent he knew wasn’t chosen for him—and that knowledge set his temper alight.
He inhaled against your neck, lips brushing dangerously close. “Tell me, cutie…” his tone dipped into mockery, sharp and soft all at once, “is that what you were aiming for?”
—
Shutting Rafayel up was easy enough if you played your cards right. And right now, with your thighs draped on each side of his head, his face buried between them, it was the most effective method you’d ever discovered.
He’d pulled you straight out of that party—cocky grin, sharp remarks, his hand at the small of your back like he had every right to lead you wherever he pleased—and somehow, the two of you ended up here again, tangled in the mess of his sheets, tearing at each other’s clothes like you were starving.
He hadn’t wasted a second once the door shut. The moment he shoved you back onto his bed, Rafayel dragged you over his mouth, pinning you there with a kind of desperate arrogance, tongue lapping at your folds like he had something to prove.
Your thighs trembled with every stroke of him, the slick sound of his mouth against you filling the room. He groaned into you, the vibration making you jolt, fingers tightening around the headboard as you rocked against him.
“Fuck—Rafayel,” you gasped, the words breaking into a moan as his hands urged you down harder, forcing you to grind over his mouth like he wanted you to drown him.
You couldn’t help laughing breathlessly, the edge of smugness curling your lips. “Didn’t know you liked shutting up this much,” you panted, voice cracking as he sucked hard on your clit, pulling another shaky cry from you.
He hummed against you in response, and the casual defiance in it made your chest tighten with something more dangerous than lust. Still, you couldn’t resist taunting him, voice pitched with a mix of moan and tease. “Do you wanna make me cum, Rafayel? Hm? So eager to please me for once?”
That had his fingers digging into your thighs, bruising and possessive. He pushed his tongue deeper, fucking you with it, and you cursed, head falling back, vision hazing. But you weren’t done. You leaned into the crueler edge of the game, your smirk curling even as your words hitched mid-breath.
“Maybe the other guy would’ve been just as eager… you know, the one who whispered all kind of things in my ear while grinding behind me—”
Your taunt cut off in a broken scream when he growled low into your pussy and sealed his mouth around your clit, sucking so hard your whole body jerked. The orgasm ripped through you with a violence that made your thighs quake against his grip, soaking his face as you cried out his name like you couldn’t hold it back. And the bastard didn’t even slow down.
“S-shit, ahh…” you gasped, the sound breaking out of you before you could bite it back. His mouth didn’t let up, not until you cried his name, your whole body trembling as your hips moved helplessly against his tongue, too sensitive to bear it yet too desperate to stop. A low growl rumbled in his throat at the sound of your curse, vibrating against you, and then suddenly—his grip clamped around your thighs, dragging a startled cry from your lips as he flipped you onto your back.
Before you could catch your breath, he was already over you, stealing your mouth in a kiss that left you dizzy, his hips grinding down into yours, the hard line of him pressing insistently through the fabric of his pants. His lips broke away only to trail down your throat, and then his teeth found you, sucking rough marks into your skin like he meant to brand you.
“You already got me so worked up…” his voice was rough, almost bitten out, “but then you go and say his name while I’m between your legs?” he sank his teeth lightly into your neck, the sting chased by the drag of his tongue.
Your protest melted into a groan as his fingers slid inside you, stretching you with merciless precision. He moaned low when your release slicked against his touch, making each movement faster, deeper, your body clenching around him in desperate pulses. His other hand spread over your ass, holding you open for him as his mouth closed around your breast, sucking hard, leaving your nipple aching under the wet heat of his tongue.
When his eyes lifted, messy hair falling into his flushed face, the burn in them was enough to make your stomach twist. Jealousy and hunger sharpened the edges of his gaze, the sound of his voice rough and almost mocking. “If you wanted it rough, cutie, you could’ve just asked. No need to piss me off, pulling shit like this on me.”
Your laugh came out broken, shaky, your voice trembling on each gasp. Still, you managed, “Where’s the fun in that?”
He kissed you then like he was trying to win something, all heat and defiance, his mouth clashing against yours in a mess of teeth and breath. You answered with equal force, your hands already curling tighter in his hair, dragging him closer until you broke the kiss just to flip him beneath you.
The motion was sharp, your thighs locking around his hips as you shoved him down onto the mattress, stealing a groan out of him that sounded far too satisfying.
“You’re so easy to trigger, aren’t you?” you taunted, breathless as you pressed your mouth to his throat, nipping at the skin until he tilted his head back with a curse. Your fingers fumbled at his belt, deliberately slow, grazing him in ways that made his jaw clench.
“Maybe it’s time someone puts you in your place. Because clearly…” you scoffed, dragging your nails lightly over his stomach as you marked his neck, “…you don’t know where you stand.”
His hips twitched under the drag of your palm, his breathing uneven now—finally losing that insufferable composure that always drove you mad. His pants and boxers were gone in what felt like seconds, and you perched just above him, teasing, stroking him in slow, deliberate movements that had his eyes darkening, his chest rising sharp with every breath.
When your mouth wrapped around him at last, he swore violently, a hand flying to your hair, gripping hard enough to make your scalp sting. The sound that tore out of him was raw, unguarded, his back arching off the sheets.
“S-shit, fuck…” he hissed, the word breaking, and you almost laughed around him, because the victory was already rushing through your veins, warm and heady. The Rafayel who always had a sharp retort, always stayed a step ahead, was now groaning under your mouth, bucking helplessly into you, fingers threaded tight in your hair as if he’d lose himself without the anchor.
He looked almost beautiful like this—breathless, undone, stripped of every cocky remark he usually wielded like a weapon. You could admit it now, he was dangerous when quiet, his charm sharper in the silence between gasps.
“Cutie shit—just like that,” his voice cracked, raw and heavy as his hand tightened in your hair. “I’m not gonna last.”
The ragged sound of his breathing filled the space, and just when you felt him twitch against your tongue, he pulled you away with a guttural growl. His mouth caught yours in a kiss that was messy, desperate, teeth clashing as if he couldn’t stand the distance for even a second longer.
“Not yet,” he rasped against your lips, his grip bruising your hips as he dragged you up into his lap. “Not until I fuck you so good you forget whatever guy you were entertaining earlier.”
You barely had time to roll your eyes before he flipped you over with startling ease, pressing you down and sliding into you in one rough, unrelenting thrust. The breath tore out of you in a broken moan, nails sinking into his shoulders as your body stretched around him.
“You’re tight, princess,” he groaned into your ear, hips snapping forward, the sound spilling out of him low and guttural. “Fuck, you take me just as good as last time.”
Whatever sharp retort you might’ve had died the moment he set a brutal rhythm, pounding into you with a pace that stole the ground from under your thoughts. Pleasure tore through you too fast, too much—until you were trembling around him, clenching hard as your release crashed over you.
“So sweet when you come for me,” he rasped, voice unraveling as your walls squeezed him tighter. “Squeezing me so goddamn t-tight…”
He pulled out only to drag you forward, manhandling you face-down, ass high, the mattress dipping under his weight as he shoved back inside without warning. The thrust punched a scream out of you, raw and unguarded, and he chuckled darkly at the sound, his fingers digging deep into your hips as if to brand you there.
“You wanted rough, didn’t you?” His tone was half-growl, half-smirk, sharp with the kind of heat that left no space to breathe. He snapped his hips hard against you, deeper, faster, each movement sharp enough to leave you reeling. “Wanted to make me jealous, huh? Then take it.”
Your mouth hung open, words failing as he pushed you past every edge, the drag of his jealousy turning him feral, reckless—eager to ruin you until there was nothing left in your head but him. And in truth, you loved every second of it. Because this version of Rafayel—the one who burned with want, who touched like he was starving, who let his jealousy unravel into raw need—was utterly, devastatingly irresistible.
.ᐟ✧ translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites ARE NOT permitted. please do not ask. do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own. thank you!
Ship: Incubus!Sylus x Nun!Reader x Priest!Zayne
Warnings: MDNI, 18+ Content Ahead, AFAB!Reader, No Y/N, 2nd Person, Use of Sister as in the Nun way not the Sibling way
Content Warnings: religious guilt, shame and self hatred, shapeshifting Sylus, dubious consent, slight coercion, oral sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, corruption, threesome m-m-f, p-in-v sex, double penetration, double vaginal penetration, loss of virginity, overstimulation, creampies
Word Count: 12.5k
A/N: This is my first Love and Deepspace fanfic! I'm very happy with how it came out and I hope you all enjoy it as well! Thank you so much to my beta readers @swiminthunder and @azure-nevermore. Without them, this fic would be a grammatical mess
Taglist: @salbeitraeume @luvinbloom @stuck-in-deepspace @xlinxsworld @vanaaa @nightlyrayne
Cross Posted to AO3
You admired Father Zayne; felt respect towards him that you had seldom experienced before. He was well spoken and commanding, he took great pride in his work, and he made extraneous efforts to help his community. He wanted everyone to feel at home in the Lord’s flock, and even if his face stayed relatively stoic, you saw him for the caring man he was. Ever since he filled in for Father William after his unfortunate passing, you haven’t been able to focus on anything but him. He is well- spoken, and every service radiates the passion he has for his work. Nuns, priests, and churchgoers alike respect Father Zayne. You’ve even caught a couple of young women whispering about how handsome he is. Of course you playfully told them to keep their admirations to themselves lest someone hear. Though you had very little room to scold them for their proclivities.
While the members of your congregation are focused on the holy word that Father Zayne is preaching, all you can focus on is the man himself. His sharp features, angled nose, soft cupid’s bow, and intense gaze could put any angelic statue to shame. His hands, though often covered by pure white gloves, are deliciously veiny and large. The small bit of skin you are able to glimpse at through his vestments make you flustered in a way you’ve never experienced. You feel disgusted by your behavior; you are in a holy place, under the Lord’s roof, and yet you have such impure thoughts. Lusting over the man who is the town’s holy beacon while you have taken an oath to the Lord. You pray every night to rid yourself of these unclean thoughts, doing everything in your power to rid yourself of this sin. However, these thoughts that plague you come back stronger every day. It is to the point that you wonder if you should avoid Father Zayne unless you absolutely have to. Being in his presence alone feels like temptation that if you were to indulge in would force you down a path of no return.
You snap out of your thoughts as people around you rise for benediction. You scramble to stand and partake in the final blessing of the service, closing your eyes and allowing Father Zayne’s voice to fall over you.
“...The Lord bless and keep you; The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you…Go in peace, Lord bless you all, and may you all get home safely.” Father Zayne’s voice echoed throughout the chapel as a choir of ‘amens’ rang in the air. You and your sisters gracefully escorted the members of your congregation to the front of the chapel, wishing them blessed good nights and safe travels.
Even as you spoke with the invigorated members of your church, your eyes couldn’t help but wander over to Father Zayne. You kept sneaking glances at the taller man in his vestments. A part of you felt like a broken record thinking about how handsome he was for another night in a row, but it didn’t make it any less true. As the last of the churchgoers left and your sisters began to trickle back into their dorm rooms for the night, you made your way over to Father Zayne.
“That was a wonderful sermon, Father Zayne, I always look forward to the passion you exude during the gospel,” You praise, trying to tone down how excited you are to be speaking to him yet again. His face remains stoic, but you think you saw a small twitch of a smile creeping up on his lips. You may be imagining things, but you like to hold onto the hope that he enjoyed the praise he was given.
“Thank you, Sister. I hope you have a good night, I must head back to my study before I turn in for the night,” Father Zayne spoke, nodding his head softly as he made his exit. You wave him goodbye and watch him turn the corner out of sight. You always wish you could have longer conversations with him, yearning to talk with him for hours on end, but that would be unbecoming of a nun. Your intentions with speaking with him aren’t entirely pure, after all. The thumping in your chest, the way your cheeks heat up when he’s around, and the way your hands get clammy are all signs of your impurity. Once again, you need to relinquish your sins to the Lord before bed.
The bright gleam of the moon shone throughout the church grounds. You held a lantern in hand as you made your way back to your living quarters. The air was cool but nice, especially against your flushed skin. You folded your sweater closer to your chest, following the dimly lit path of the hallway. Despite walking these halls every single day and night, something appeared different tonight. Almost as if something was watching you. You tried to shake it off and convince yourself you’re just being paranoid, but the weight just wouldn’t leave your shoulders. There were moments you swore you heard footsteps creeping up behind you, only for no one to be around. The feeling only intensified in your stomach as the temperature felt as if it had dropped. Your body shivered as you hurried your pace back to your room. Why did it feel as if the path to your dorm was taking even longer than usual?
“Oh sweetie, you look so pitiful,” A voice echoes out. You snap your head around to follow the voice that calls to you, but you’re met with an empty hallway. A chill runs down your spine and you feel your heart thump in your ears. Surely you weren’t hallucinating a voice speaking to you. What if this was the Lord himself speaking to you, just to call you pitiful? You’re not sure which one would be worse at this moment. After a couple of more moments of silence, you make your way back to your room. Slowly opening the door, you’re met with an empty room, and a sense of relief washes over you. You shut the door behind you and set the lantern onto the bedside table as you sit down on your bed. You kick off your shoes, ready to quell the ache that is pulsating in your feet, when you finally notice a figure standing in front of your door.
“W-Who are you?” You gasp, eyes widening as you look at the otherworldly being up and down. The figure easily towered over you, his body large, muscular and imposing. His facial features were sharp and dangerous, and his crimson eyes intimidated you as if they stared directly into your soul. Messy silver hair hung above his eyes, but all you could focus on were the two dark red horns that sprouted out of his skull.
“A-A demon? What are you doing here?” Your voice stuttered, in complete disbelief that a creature of sin was standing before you in your bedroom, let alone inside the church. Your hands shakily scramble to the rosary around your neck, jutting the copper crucifix towards the man in front of you.
“Sweetie, if that was enough to scorn me, do you really think I would’ve made it this far?” He scoffed, almost offended that you thought a little cross could deter him. Still, you didn’t let go of your hold on the cross despite your hands shaking in his presence. The warm and worn edges of your rosary seemed as if it was the only thing grounding you in this moment. A part of you wondered if you were dreaming, because in what world would a demon be residing in your room?
“I asked you what you’re doing here…What do you want?” You swallow hard trying to maintain any semblance of confidence you could muster. You couldn’t show this creature how weak and terrified you were. The man stepped towards you, looking closer at you as if he was examining you head to toe. You jolt slightly at his sudden movement, but determined to keep your resolve.
“You are shaking like a little kitten with her tail between her legs, yet you are still trying to act tough and bare your fangs.” A small smirk crept up on his lips as a small chuckle left his throat. “How cute.” The man’s tail swished behind him lazily, as if he was simply toying with some prey he had found outside.
“Are you not going to answer me?”
“If you must know, I followed a delicious scent in here.” He leaned closer to you until his face was hovering right above yours, his dark eyes possessing a certain hunger to them. “It beckoned me to come closer…to take a bite.” You pulled away and crawled to the middle of your bed. You didn’t understand what he was getting at, or maybe you didn’t want to admit you had an inkling.
“What are you saying?” Your eyes squinted at him as you pulled your knees to your chest. Sylus looked a bit unamused at your inability to understand.
“Must I spell everything out?” He sighed, shaking his head. He raised his hand towards you and you instinctively closed your eyes, afraid of what he might do next. Surprisingly, he flicks your forehead with his middle finger, earning a small yelp from you. “I’m Sylus. I am an Incubus, a demon that feeds on desires. And you, my dear, are swimming in them.”
A part of you sits in disbelief as you piece together his words. “Desires? Me? I think you’re sorely mistaken.” Sylus taps the tip of his beautifully chiselled nose and smirks.
“I think not. My nose never lies.”
“Well, it did this time!” You snap. Your face grows red as you lose your composure, but Sylus seems unaffected by the sudden outburst.
“If my nose suddenly went faulty, I might be in trouble,” He chuckled, crawling onto the bed closer to you. “You got defensive awfully fast…I believe there’s some feelings you have yet to come to terms with, Sister.” The demon gently touched your cheek with his fingers, his long nails trailing down to your throat.
“D-Don’t call me that. Your unholy mouth shall not refer to me by my name, or Sister. In fact, I think you need to leave.” Slapping his hand away, you scoot further back towards the headboard, keeping your rosary jutted out towards him. You weren’t going to relinquish your guard just yet.
This was nothing new to Sylus. Most humans were appalled at his arrival every time unless they were truly debaucherous. He rarely encountered a human that didn’t fight his very presence, but they always caved eventually.
“I’m not leaving until I have gotten my fill. You wouldn’t kick out a starving puppy would you, Kitten?” Your mouth hung agape as he laid onto your bed, lounging like he wasn’t an intruder in your bedchambers.
“It is a good thing that you are not a starving puppy. Besides, you will starve here as well. There’s nothing for you to feed on here, so please go elsewhere.” Despite how confident you try to sound, your voice wavers a bit at the end. Either way, he does not seem to be budging.
“As much as I would love to leave, Kitten, I do not have the strength to. I followed my nose here in order to feed but that took the last of my energy.” Your eyes watched his tail lazily swish behind him before flopping over like a limping flower as he spoke. A part of you knew not to believe such a farce of a story, he looked well put together, not like a demon starving for his next meal. You could not see any traces of dark circles, sunken cheeks, or frail limbs on him. In fact, his muscles were deliciously well defined, his face was strong and handsome, and his eyes were intoxicating and you sensed as if they were already trying to pull you in. As if he could see the wheels in your head turning, he spoke up.
“Usually I can leave undetected, but with an empty stomach, I cannot guarantee I won’t be seen leaving your room. And how do you suppose you would explain an incubus to your fellow nuns?” The thought terrified you and sent ice through your veins. Imagining waking up the next morning and escorting a sex pest out of your room through the halls of a holy sanctuary. Your fellow Sisters would croak, and Father Zayne…He would look at you with such disgust. He would discover the lustful thoughts you have about him, how you wish every day would come true and pray every night to go away. He would see you as unclean and filthy, and he would wonder why someone like you would even have been able to take an oath to begin with. Everything you’ve worked hard for in the past 4 years would all be for naught.
After a couple minutes of silently spiraling, you clear your throat to speak. “I cannot…indulge in the ways you need to be fed…But are there ways to feed you enough to where you can get enough strength to leave?”
“There aren’t.” You were afraid of that answer. To be honest, this was all making your head swim in directions you weren’t prepared for. It all made you feel trapped; if you let him stay then you ran the risk of being caught with a demon in your dorm, cast aside for being unclean and impure. However, if you fed him then wouldn’t you be just as perverse as him? Why must the Lord test you in these ways? Perhaps it truly was a punishment for your behavior as of late.
“I can see your thoughts swirling around, Sister. Perhaps you should sleep on it for the night.” He hummed, poking the spot between your eyebrows.
“I do not wish to sleep unguarded in a room with a sexual deviant.”
“Do not fret. I cannot do anything to you if you do not wish for it. I may be a deviant, but I’m not a monster.” While you could feel a little tension in your body release as he spoke, his words did little to soothe the storm that was swirling inside you. Thoughts of your reputation, plans on what to do if he were discovered, and the occasional thought of how sinfully handsome he looked all amalgamated together into a ferocious cloud in your mind. Frankly, the situation made you exhausted, and as much as you would like to figure out a solution right this second, you need to sleep.
Rubbing your temples, you sighed heavily. “For tonight, you may sleep in here. You must sleep on the floor and do not even ponder the idea of crawling into my bed or else-“
“Or else what, Kitten?”
“You have terrible manners. Did your mother never teach you to not interrupt when someone is speaking?” He shrugged, but motioned for you to continue. You were already exasperated, and the night wasn’t even over. “As I was saying, you must sleep on the floor. During the day, you may stay in here, but if anyone comes into this room, you must hide yourself. I can’t help you leave this place if you are caught. Any questions?”
“May a poor demon have a pillow? The floor is awfully hard, Kitten.” Before he could ask anything else, you tossed a spare pillow towards him.
“Good night. Do not disturb me.” You huff. Sylus did not respond after, only giving you a deep laugh, lying down on the cold floor for the night. He was excited for the game you two were going to play from now on.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
It had been a couple of days since you began harboring an incubus in your room. You were terrified of someone walking into your living quarters in the middle of the day and discovering your awful secret but it seems so far your secret was safe. In your free time, you attempted to do research on him in the library but alas, nothing came up in your search. Scanning through countless books you were unable to even find anything on incubi as well. It seems the Lord really was putting you between a rock and a hard place.
Hiding him in your room was weighing heavy on your conscience, you felt like you were living an even bigger lie than you originally had been dealing with. All you wanted to do was escape this situation unscathed and go back to normalcy but you had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Thankfully, despite his intimidating appearance, you come to realize Sylus was quite nice towards you. On days you would come back to your dorm after being on your feet all day, he would massage your sore feet and ankles. Taking his time to make sure all of the tension in your legs was gone before letting you sleep. He would tell you about what he saw out of the window that day; some days it was birds building a nest in the tree next to your window, others it was the cat that was roaming around the convent. He would make remarks about how plump the little feline is getting due to everyone spoiling him.
You never completely let your guard rest around him, wondering every time he was nice to you if it was just a ploy to defile you. He never pushed, though, which surprised you. You hated to admit it, but Sylus was growing on you a bit, even if you were still wary of him. While scripture had taught you about demons that lead you to temptation, you never expected the one that appeared at your door step would be kind or interested in watching animals outside your bedroom window. It was a very strange feeling, and you weren’t sure what to make of it.
Without realizing it, though, he had gotten you to talk about Father Zayne. It started out as vague mentions here and there of your daily duties, but it quickly evolved into long conversations about your intense admiration for the man. How he was extremely intelligent, a great leader, how his voice made your heart beat out of your chest, and how when he smiled at you you often wondered if you had gone to Heaven somehow. You were embarrassed to say these thoughts out loud; until now, they had been locked deep inside of you. It was freeing in a way to finally get it off your chest, but the heat on your face wouldn’t go away. Sylus said very few words and just let you speak your mind, but a smirk never left his face as you indulged in your feelings.
Long after you went to bed, he watched you carefully, observing the slow rise and fall of your chest. He had finally figured out the source of those desires that you had denied ever having. Even now through “innocent” chatter amongst you two, he could sense the desire you have for this man and how you’ve rebranded it as admiration. He couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, finding you completely and utterly adorable. Perhaps this meal was going to be even more delicious than he had initially planned for.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
It had been a long day of cleaning and organizing with your Sisters, lending your helping hand wherever you could. Thankfully after hours of hard work, you were finally done. As you began to make your way back to your dorm, you were stopped by Sister Simone.
“Ah! Before you head back, do you mind taking these files to Father Zayne? I was heading there but Mother Jenna needs my help.” Despite exhaustion beginning to set in your bones, you agreed. She handed you two large boxes of files, thanking you as she headed in the opposite direction. A part of you was excited to see Father Zayne. You hadn’t crossed his path in a few days, so this was a much welcome addition thrown your way. As you arrived at his office door, you set the boxes down for a moment as you knocked softly on the dark wood.
“Come in.” Zayne’s smooth voice echoed through the door. You opened the door slowly and was immediately met with a sight you weren’t prepared for. Absent were his normal vestments in favor of a white button up, rolled up to his elbows. The shirt fit him well but as he moved, you could see it taut against his chest giving you the faintest hint of how toned he was underneath the fabric. His usual swept back hair was a bit disheveled, and a sheen of sweat and a flush decorated his cheeks. At the tip of his nose sat a pair of wire glasses you never even knew he owned. You already thought he looked very handsome, but this was a completely different aura to him, one that you realized was dangerous to be near. Your heart began to ring in your ears, your hands grew clammy, and all you could do was stare in awe of this man crafted by the Lord himself.
“Is everything alright, Sister?” His voice snapped you out of a trance you didn’t register you were in. You blinked a couple of times, fumbling to get your words out.
“Ah! Y-Yes! Sorry Father, I was asked to drop these file boxes off to you.” You bent down and hoisted the boxes back up. “Where would you like me to put them?”
“Feel free to set them over there, next to that shelf. I will go through them in a moment.” He pointed to a corner of the room, resuming the task of organizing the papers he had in his hand. Placing the box where he said to, you finally took in your surroundings. His office was disheveled as boxes, file folders, papers, and scrolls littered every surface. It seems as if there’s a method to his madness, but you were unsure of what it was. Turning back to Zayne, you could see his brows stuck in a permanent furrow as he intensely read through the papers in his hand.
“Father Zayne…It’s already very late. Are you sure you don’t want to take a break for the night?” The man shook his head and let out a small sigh.
“Unfortunately, if I leave my office in the state that it is in now I will not be able to sleep.”
“Then…may I help you? If you were to do this alone, you will be here until dawn. It will be faster if it is the both of us.” Zayne looked up at you for a moment. He scanned the room around him as if he was pondering on what his next move should be.
“Very well… I appreciate the help, Sister.” With that, the two of you worked in tandem to clean up the storm that had been created in his chambers. While you worked, you both spoke about a variety of topics, such as sermons, events planned during the rest of the year, and the reasons why both of you chose the path of the Lord. You learned that after serving, Zayne had met Father William and that William took him under his wing. He made him realize that life wasn’t just war and bloodshed, but that there could be peace and stability through it all. He spoke of his own admiration for Father William, and the more he spoke you swore, you could see a twinkle in his eye. This was the longest you had ever got to be around Zayne, and you enjoyed your time together. How easy the conversation flowed, how being in each other’s spaces felt…right.
After putting away the final book on Father Zayne’s shelf, the two of you stood back to admire your work.
“I appreciate the help, Sister. It was nice to have some company while I worked.” He looked over at you, and for the first time all night, you’ve got to see his features up close. His mouth twitched up in a small, genuine smile, and his eyes were tired but grateful. You could feel a blush blooming onto your cheeks as you looked away.
“I-It was no trouble at all. I wouldn’t have been able to rest well either, knowing you were working here all night.”
“I will take care of the boxes in the morning. Go get some rest, Sister. And thank you again.” He opened the door for you and walked out behind you. Locking his door, he turned to walk away before stopping. He looked at you once last time and gave a small nod, “Good Night.”
“Good Night, Father Zayne.” And with that, you were now alone. The walk back to your dorm started out at a normal pace, but quickly grew more frantic the closer you got to your room. The heat that had burned your cheeks for the past few hours had crept down to your cunt. Your core throbbed, and your mind was flooded by thoughts of Father Zayne. The sweat glistening on his forehead, his button up stretching against the muscles you had never noticed, the scars that littered his deliciously toned forearms. How would his hands feel if they had traced your chaste body? Would the sweat still glimmer the same on his forehead if he were on top of you? What expressions would he make as the both of you committed the ultimate sin? Your head began to swim, unable to fight between shame and pure unadulterated lust.
Stepping into your dorm room, Sylus quickly sensed the intense arousal oozing out around you. Your pheromones were sickly sweet, desperate to be devoured. “What exciting adventure happened today to get you so worked up, Kitten?” He stepped towards you, and you practically threw yourself into Sylus’ arms. Your body ached and yearned to be touched. Fire coursed through your veins, and an unfamiliar heat lit up in your core. You grasped onto Sylus’ arm, face flushed and breath uneven as you looked into his crimson orbs.
“W-What are you doing to me?” You whispered. He smirked and lifted his hand up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“I’m not doing anything, everything you’re feeling right now…every ache, every fiery sensation…is your body yearning to be touched. You’re yearning to be devoured.” His voice faded into a whisper as he spoke his truth. He had no hand in the overwhelming feelings that were welling up inside of you; he was merely a spectator. “They were here long before I arrived.”
“What do I do about them? I-I’ve never felt this way prior to you...” Your mouth was as dry as cotton as you desperately cling to his arm. A part of you was scared, scared of what you were feeling, scared of what to do about it, and scared of what came after.
“I can help extinguish these flames, but only if you want me to. If you say yes, you’ll be giving up a part of your oath…a part of yourself.” His sultry voice called to you like a siren song as his lips softly caressed your jaw. Without realizing it you let out a small gasp, the small bit of contact making the ache explode in your chest. Your eyes shut as you relished in the small bit of ecstasy. You knew you needed to say no, you needed to stay pure for the Lord, for your faith, for Zayne…but you were running out of reasons to say no to this silver haired seductress. He lied in wait for your consent, you held all the power in this situation…but you never felt more out of control in your whole life.
As you weighed the morality of your options in your head, his lips never left your jaw, painstakingly painting a trail of fire from your ear to your collar bones. Your resolve was quickly melting away, and you were struggling to keep your head on your shoulders. Your eyes fluttered open to see dark hair brush against you, and hazel eyes gazing at you with that familiar hunger.
“Sister…I see how you look at me. How you look away when I meet your gaze. I wish to see more of you, to see expressions that are locked away from others. Please, won’t you grant me this one selfish wish? Won’t you let me help you?” The voice that came out of his mouth was not Sylus’ smooth and seductive tone that you had grown accustomed to, but the soft, professional voice that echoed in the chapel every service. The face that greeted you every morning when you came to do your daily chores. The man you have yearned for every single day now in your bedroom, here to fulfil the one lustful dream that has plagued you.
“Please…” in a way you felt betrayed by your own words. How much longer were you going to keep fighting this feeling, these sinful urges? With your aching words, Zayne immediately got to work, small whimpers left your lips as each article of clothing made its way unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. You covered your eyes with your hands as you laid close to the man of your affections, in nothing but a set of white cotton. Embarrassment crept into your skin, the cool air brushed against your bare skin. He brushed the tips of his fingers along the hem of your bra, tracing the fabric that laid upon your ribs gently.
“May I?” He whispered. You bit your lip softly and nodded. Sliding his hands to your back, he unclasped the back of your bra and slid it off your body. Heat welled up in your face as his piercing gaze focused on your breasts.
“Mmn!” A small whimper slipping its way past your lips as his hands squeezed the plump flesh of your breasts. He fondled them carefully, taking his time in feeling the weight spill into his fingers. He dragged the pad of his thumb along your perky nipples, rubbing small circles on the nub. Each movement of his thumb sent waves of electricity through your body. It was such a simple gesture, yet your body temperature was already heating up.
With a hungry gaze, Zayne leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the soft skin. You didn’t dare look at him, shutting your eyes tightly as you focused on his tongue exploring your tender breasts. His hot breath tickled you as he lapped at your flesh. The sensation of his lips grazed your skin while his tongue claimed you made your head spin.
“Sister…” Zayne’s voice whispered, “Please look at me.” You obediently followed his request and slowly opened your eyes. You moved your hands slowly as Zayne grabbed them gently and pulled them away from your face.
“S-Sylus…This is embarrassing…” You whimpered, averting your gaze a little. You couldn’t handle those strict hazel eyes looking at you, not when you were exposed like this. Not when laid bare with all of your desires on the table.
“I do not appreciate being called another man’s name, Sister.” He said, a small look of irritation tightening his features. “I know you know what my name is, say it.” He ordered. His gaze seared into your skin, his eyes never leaving yours even as you attempted to swallow away the shame that you couldn’t shake off.
“F-Father Zayne…” You uttered.
“Good girl…” He softly smiled, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles gently. “Now, please watch me Sister. Do not tear your gaze from me.” You nodded softly as he tucked your hands beside you. He quickly nestled himself in between your breasts, taking the other nipple into his mouth and giving it the much needed attention it yearned for. Your other one was not neglected, however, as his fingers flicked and tugged on the protruding buds.
“A-Ah~! Father!” You whined, moving your palms back to your mouth in attempt to muffle any sinful noises that dared to escape your lips. It was only while watching Father Zayne’s hands explore your chest that you realized just how large his hands were. They easily engulfed your chest, massaging the flesh in his palm. He grazed your nipple with his teeth gently, sliding the erect nub between his tongue and teeth. He soon pulled away reluctantly. He loved the idea of spending all night suckling at your breasts until sunrise came, but he was here to feed after all. He craved the arousal that you’ve been oozing since the day he stepped into the convent. He could be roaming the city having a meal every night, but he preferred to work for his food. The harder he worked, the more delicious the bounty in the end. And what could be more delicious than a sexually repressed nun drowning in desires? Now that he has you beneath him, he was ready to finally taste the sweetness that had been teasing him for days now.
His hands travelled from your ribs, to your stomach, to the hem of your underwear that sat firmly on your hips. He thumbed the band of the underwear, looking up at you with silent instruction. Your hips raised slightly to allow Zayne to slide your underwear off with ease. Adding to the list of discarded clothes, he took in your form; memorizing the way your skin flushed with arousal and embarrassment, the small curves of your body, the small tufts of hair that settled between your thighs, and how every touch made you ache for more.
Zayne leaned down and settled himself between your legs, his breath tickling the inside of your thighs. He trailed his fingers along your soft curls, brushing them gently between his digits and spreading open your folds to inspect your eager hole. Once again you wanted to hide away, to crawl into a hole and perish. Every time you sensed the urge to close yourself away, you looked down at Father Zayne’s yearning gaze. You’ve dreamt about him begging to touch you, to taste you, and now you finally have everything you’ve dreamed about handed to you on a silver platter. Sure, it’s not the real him, but you never expected the real him to show up in your bedchambers anyway. You never expected anything from him, not even the greetings he returns when you speak to him every morning. You keep telling yourself you’re happy with the little he gives you, but in this moment, you realize truly how much you crave from this man. He would never stoop so low as to ruin his holiness for a simple nun, and you wouldn’t want him to anyway. If you’re going to cross into the world of sin and debauchery, you want to leave him unscathed.
You snapped out of your thoughts once you sensed something warm pressing against your folds. Looking down, you see Zayne’s tongue lay flat on your lips, licking long strides up your sensitive slit until he flicks your clit with the very tip of his tongue. Your voice hitched and you immediately slap your hands against your mouth once more.
“It’s a shame…I desperately want to hear your moans, but it would be quite the predicament if we were caught.” Zayne sighed, almost disappointed. Nevertheless, he continued lightly teasing your pussy, his tongue carefully mapping out a trail of desire. You slid one of your hands to his hair, startled by just how soft his dark locks were at your fingertips. If you weren’t in the predicament you were in, you could spend all day just running your fingers through his hair. You imagined his head laying on your chest, moving in tandem with the rise and fall of your chest as you played with his hair. Somehow this was more intimate than anything that was to come.
You watched as he snaked his hands around your thighs, squeezing the soft and silky flesh before wrapping his mouth around your core. He began to lap at your cunt like a man starved, devouring you as if you were his last meal on earth. Your hips threatened to lift off of the bed, but he tightened his grip on you to make sure you couldn’t run away. You whimpered and moan against the palm of your hand, terrified of any sound leaking through your fingers as he mercilessly attacked your pussy. Wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, he began to suckle on your clit messily.
“Ngnn~!” Your voice hitched. Keeping your voice lowered was impossible at this rate, but you had to, or else you would alert the sleeping sisters next door. Panting and moaning into your palm, you tried to steady yourself, but it was almost as if Zayne was doing everything in his power to get you to squeal. He was determined to make you utterly lose control and dive head first into passion and lust. You felt his finger prod your tight hole, slowly pushing inside of you. Your tight walls clamped around him, the foreign protrusion sending shock waves through your body. You wriggled in his tight grip, unable to handle this sudden onslaught of pleasure. You never experienced anything like this, anything so intense, so overstimulating, so addicting.
“Let me in Sister…Let me give you the full extent of pleasure possible.” Zayne gasped, his mouth sticky with your juices. Slowly thrusting his finger inside of you, he looked up at you with pleading eyes to let him in. It was so hard though, you never had anything like his thick finger trying to curl inside of you. It was overwhelming to feel your most sensitive spots being rubbed by his calloused fingers.
“I-I…ngnnn~ I can’t Father!” Your voice flutters, choking the words out between moans.
“Yes, you can. You’re already taking me so well. I know she wants me to fill her up more.” Zayne begged, making his middle finger speed up inside of you. He was enthralled by how you pulsated around him, how your juices dripped into his palm, and how your cunt echoed sloppy wet noises in your room. If you two weren’t condemned to be quiet, he would be relishing every moan you could give him like it was a symphony created for him alone.
Eventually, you were loose enough for Zayne to slip in a second finger, stretching your cunt slightly more but it felt like such a big leap. It wasn’t very large, but you already throbbed like you were filled to the brim. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. Pleasure was pooling in your stomach and you wondered if you were going to burst like a balloon. You gripped his hair harder as he continued to drive you closer and closer to orgasm, earning a groan from Zayne. He took this as his sign to try harder, speeding up his fingers, curling them deep inside and lapping at your clit with a desperation he’s never had previously. Your thighs trembled in his grip and your hips began to grind into his mouth, rutting against him. You were close, and he could feel it. How was he able to somehow press every button to nudge you closer to release? You knew he was a sex demon, but it was unnatural for him to know every single thing that made you tick.
“Z-Zayne I-” You whimpered, fisting his hair and holding his face close to your throbbing cunt. “I feel weird~! I- haah~ I-I! Ngnn!” You moan, your eyes rolling back as your back arches off the bed. The room became blurry as you nearly screamed into the palm of your hand. Unknowingly, you achieved your first orgasm and Sylus was there happily lapping up every drop of juice you bestowed upon him. By the time you regained your senses, the familiar silver haired devil was between your legs, lapping at your cum that drenched his fingers.
“You’re intoxicatingly sweet~” He cooed. “I knew I had a delicious meal waiting for me, and you are by far the most delicious,” Sylus hummed, planting chaste kisses to your inner thighs. His own body was energized and powerful, enjoying the delectable meal that had been given to him. Your sickly sweet essence courses through his veins, a delightful feeling after going hungry for some time.
Your body grew heavy with exhaustion as he cleaned you up, grabbing a rag from your drawer to wipe the mess away from your thighs. You were surprised at how gentle he was, rubbing the cloth on your fevered skin as if you were a delicate piece of glass that would break if he pressed too hard. A startling juxtaposition to the intense actions that just concluded moments ago.
“I…I don’t…” You stuttered, trying to wrap your head around what happened. “What…was that?”
A deep laugh reverberated in Sylus’ chest as he finished wiping your body down and pulling the blanket out from under you. “Congratulations, you experienced your first orgasm. This is the pleasure they warn you about, Kitten, the whole reason they want you to live a life of chastity…If you had intense pleasure like this every day, it’s hard to focus on the word of the Lord, is it not?” You nodded sleepily, not completely registering Sylus’ words. He tucked you in and laid next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Sleep now. You did well, Kitten.” He whispered, his soothing deep voice lulling you to sleep.
The next morning you were quick to try and hide the evidence of your wrongdoings, but you noticed that Sylus had already done the work for you. All except a much needed bath. You kept your head low for the day, head in the clouds as you fought between the shame and guilt you felt for breaking your oath to the Lord and the burning passion that seemed to only ignite further due to last night’s activities. You had been taught your whole life to detest any lustful feelings and thoughts, that they were unholy and unclean. And yet, indulging in them sparked a thrill and a sense of freedom that you had never thought possible. Perhaps that was what made you feel so ashamed in the first place, that you enjoyed it and yearned for more. You should feel more regret for your actions, for walking into the dark side, but Lord, you were invigorated.
You had been standing in place for a while without realizing it, your mind wandering with each thought. You were only brought back to reality with a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and was met with the concerned face of Sister Tara.
“Are you alright? You’ve been standing here for quite some time,” She asked, worry plaguing her features. You smiled softly at her and brushed away any concern.
“Yes I’m quite alright. I just had a bit of trouble sleeping last night,” You uttered, resuming your task of sweeping up the leaves from the courtyard.
“Maybe you should go get some rest? I can take over your duties if you’re not feeling well,” Tara said.
“I appreciate the offer, Sister, but I’m quite alright. I fear I would just be sitting on the bed staring at the ceiling if I were to lie down at this hour.” You chuckled, but your words did little to make Tara feel better.
“Alright…” Sister Tara was unconvinced, but did little to press you further, “If you change your mind, come find me and I will take over for you.” She smiled, making her way back inside. You hated lying to her, she’s always been so sweet to you. The both of you joined the convent at around the same time and have been close since then. It always comforted you to have someone close to you in age here. It helped make you feel less alone and you know that she matched your same thoughts and energy. You wonder how she’d react knowing the reason you didn’t sleep well was because you were having sexual exploits with a demon you have holed up in your living quarters. Poor thing might croak at the revelation.
Despite refusing Tara’s offer, your attention span didn’t get much better. You bumped into the other nuns, stumbled over your own two feet, ran into walls and pillars, and even broke a plate during meal time. You were a complete and utter wreck. It had been years since you were scolded by Mother Jenna but yet here you are, being lectured as if you were a newcomer.
“I’m sorry Mother…” you uttered, unable to meet her intense expression.
“Take this plate and reflect on your actions today. You may get up once everyone has finished their meals.” Jenna ordered, handing you the two largest halves of the broken plate. You nodded obediently and made your way to the corner of the refectory, kneeling with plate in hand and began to pray. You prayed for forgiveness for breaking the plate, for allowing temptation to latch itself into your veins, and indulging in them in a place so sacred. How can you ask for forgiveness for a plate when you have something more heinous looming over your head? You weren’t even sure you deserved it.
At that night’s sermon, you could barely look at Father Zayne as he spoke. Every glance you managed to sneak in just reminded you of the filthy actions you committed the night prior. You couldn’t bear to keep having those thoughts in the Lord’s house, to be filled with lust while sitting in the pews next to your sisters was blasphemous. You opted to just keep your face to the Bible in your hands, pretending to follow along with the scripture. Before you knew it, the service was over and your Sisters were already heading towards the doors to help see everyone off for the night. You put on a brave face and wished everyone safe travels and thanked them for their continued attendance.
Father Zayne had noticed your lack of usual spark and enthusiasm. Without realizing it, he had grown accustomed to you finding him after each service to tell him what you enjoyed about each one. He would notice the light in your eyes as you spoke and the eventual redness that would dust your cheeks as he gave you well wishes for a good night. However, tonight you had barely looked at him during service, and even now, you began to make your way back to your living quarters without so much as even acknowledging his presence. For a man in his position, it would have just been better to leave you alone, but something gnawed at him from deep inside his stomach. Before you were able to leave the chapel completely, he called out to you. “Sister!”
You slowly turned around to face him, the familiar redness on your cheeks still present even as you acted uncharacteristically. He caught up to you and examined your features. Thankfully, you still had color to your face, and he didn’t see any dark circles or hollowed out cheeks. The only thing he could notice was some turbulence that sat behind your eyes, as if your mind had been a storm for quite some time.
“My apologies for calling out to you, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. You don’t seem like yourself right now. Is there anything troubling you, Sister?” He spoke, worry furrowing itself between his brows. You hated making him fret over you or your silly chaotic thoughts, but a part of you couldn’t help but relish in the fact that for once he sought you out and not the other way around. It didn’t help the complicated feelings that circled in your chest.
“I’m quite alright, Father.” You smiled softly, not quite meeting his gaze. “My sleep was a bit perturbed last night so I have felt under the weather. I appreciate you asking about me, but I think I will turn in early for the night.” And with that, you quickly turned to head back to your bedroom.
“Good night.” He managed to choke out as you walked away. It had reached you but you couldn’t react, not now. He wasn’t satisfied with the answer, and he knew he shouldn’t press but, something just wasn’t quite right. He watched you turn the corner out of his sight. He began to turn away himself, but then he noticed a shadow following you. At first he wanted to chalk it up to your own, but the way it moved was unnatural. His jaw tightened as he pondered on what to do, but either way he wanted to get to the bottom of it.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
Back in your room, Sylus lounged on your bed as he perked up a bit at your arrival. His normally bored expression grew relaxed as he watched your frame shuffle into the cramped dorm room.
“There you are, Kitten. I was wondering if you were ever going to make your way back here,” He cooed, his tail swishing behind him. It reminded you of a cat in a way, the way their tails move back and forth when they’re stalking their prey.
“It’s Sister…” you grumbled, sitting down on the bed. He scooted closer to you, arm snaking around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder.
“You look tense…Do you need me to take care of you again?” He planted a chaste kiss to your jaw as his free hand began to roam your torso. You scrunch up your face and nudge his face with your palm.
“You are the reason why I am tense. You’ve ruined everything.” You sigh, continuing your gaze upon the hardwood floor beneath your feet.
“Oh? Do tell,” He hummed, pulling you into his lap. As much as you wanted to yell, to push him off of you and give him a piece of your mind, you don’t have the strength. You were the one who fell into temptation; he was simply just someone who dished it out.
“Before you came here I was living a normal life…I was perfectly content with my life here, with talking with my Sisters…with Father Zayne. Now, I can’t look any of them in the eye. I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, ashamed I’ve let myself be tempted by a demon and let him lounge in my bed as if he’s a pet. I should’ve screamed and fought you when I first saw you…I hate you…” Your voice trails off near the end, not even having the heart to finish your sentence. Sylus remains unfazed by this, nuzzling his face against your cheek.
“Mmm…But you didn’t,” He simply stated. “I think you are coming to terms with the reality that you haven’t been as pure as you thought. That these lustful feelings have been swirling around in you for some time now, and that whether I was here or not, they were going to swallow you up eventually,” Sylus spoke matter of factly, as if he had witnessed this exact scenario a thousand times.
“I feel like I’m being torn apart. I’m plagued by my guilt of betraying the Lord and disgust of letting myself be tainted…but then I’m also wrestling with my thoughts on how good it felt, how free and euphoric my body was all at once. I can’t decide what to do, and it’s troubling me…” You admit, voicing your concerns. It’s strange, confessing your sins to a demon in your bedroom rather than to a priest in a confessional. Your chest was a bit lighter getting this off of your chest but it didn’t solve the situation.
“Who said you have to choose right now? You’re putting so much pressure on yourself to decide, when you can just focus on feeling…” He planted a small kiss on your neck. “I can do all the thinking for you right now.” His whispers were so tempting. His hands slid to the edge of your skirt, sliding his hand ever so slowly up the side of your thigh. You felt like you should fight against this but, remembering the freedom you experienced last night, you didn’t dare. Maybe having a demon do your thinking for you as he fondled your body in every right way wasn’t such a bad idea. Before you could react, the door to your room swung open. You jolted in Sylus’ grip as you realized the unwelcome guest was Father Zayne himself, but, Sylus seemed completely unfazed.
“Father Zayne? What are you doing here?” You gasp, wriggling in Sylus’ grip to make him let you go. However, he seems to only tighten his hold on you, leaving you plastered to him.
“Sister…” The shock in his voice was evident to you. His face scrunched slightly as he examined what was laid out in front of him. He saw the fear and embarrassment in your features, the small tears in your eyes as you attempted to wriggle out of the demon’s grip. As he turned to Sylus, his gaze darkened and anger flooded his senses. “You are not welcome here. Leave at once.”
Sylus continued to remain unaffected by just getting caught. To him, he had no qualms in being caught, he didn’t have years of religious training to keep him on the straight and narrow. He was a creature forged by chaos and lust, determined to create chaos wherever he went. Crosses and scripture written by man had no bearing on him and did not frighten him. If he stood, he would tower over the young priest, and could absolutely crush him in a test of strengths. “Oh no, it seems we’ve been caught. What a shame, I was hoping to have a little bit more fun before someone came and ruined it.”
You continued to struggle in Sylus’ arms, panic settling into your bones as your mind swam. How could you even begin to explain this to the one man you never wanted to find out? That a demon was here because you let him in and had refused to shoo him away this entire time. “F-Father please…I can explain…” Your voice came out more feeble than you were expecting. Terrified of what would happen next, you refused to look up at Zayne. Would he be disgusted? Ashamed? You wouldn’t blame him for reacting that way, heavens know you would if you were in his shoes.
As he watched you struggle in the demon’s arms, he couldn’t help but squeeze his fists and tighten his jaw. After Father William’s passing, he became incredibly lonely, losing the only mentor he had and the only person he had any closeness with. When his duties were passed to him, he of course wanted to do right by the man who brought him up from darkness, but he didn’t expect to find a light in this small church. At first, he was unused to the casual greetings and kindness you showed him, but slowly he began to open up. He noticed the blush that would spread across your face when he was near and how you stuttered more around him. You, however, didn’t notice the soft glances Father Zayne directed towards you. How he would always stop when you called his name, no matter what he was doing. Even if he couldn’t talk long, he would spare the time, no exceptions. Now seeing you enraptured by this incubi made him wonder if he did something wrong. If he didn’t express his gratitude and feelings towards you soon enough that you fell right into the arms of a predator.
“You should be ashamed for attacking an innocent nun, you foul beast. Though I should not expect someone of your standing to have standards.” Zayne spat, his dark expression never leaving Sylus’.
“Innocent? I think our Sister here is a bit less innocent than you may think, Father.” A deep laugh vibrated against your back as Sylus’ free hand roamed up to the hem of your skirt. He gripped the fabric in his fist and ripped it off with ease. Your panties had also been a victim to his brute strength, leaving you bare in front of the man you looked up to. “Kitten, you wound me. Last night you were melting underneath my touch, but tonight, you act as if I am a nuisance. That’s not very nice.” Sylus feigned a wounded tone. Sylus’ large hands held your legs open, exposing your bare cunt to the Zayne. You couldn’t even look up at Zayne, you were humiliated to your core. You tried to use a free hand to cover yourself but it did little to shield your arousal. Zayne’s jaw tightened at the scene before him. He shouldn’t be indulging in this demon’s game, yet here he was, enticed by your hole fluttering around nothing and dripping onto the sheets beneath your bottom. Your feeble attempts to hide it also did not go unnoticed.
Your eyes stayed tightly shut as you attempted to free yourself once more. You couldn’t let Father Zayne be taken down this path of debauchery. If he leaves now, he can pretend he never saw anything, taking plausible deniability. You can leave the convent tonight, run away taking no more casualties and never look back.
“Please Father Zayne…leave…” You whimper, small tears running down your cheeks. Sylus never broke his gaze directed towards Zayne. He watched as the holy man struggled to keep himself composed. His mouth was clenched together tightly, his face and ears were dusted with a pretty pink, and his priestly robes were doing little to hide the growing erection in his pants.
“Father, you are feeling some impure thoughts yourself, are you not?” Sylus hummed, the vibration of his voice tickling your back. He relished in the sweet smell of your and Zayne’s arousal mixing together in the room, working in tandem with one another to create a sickly sweet scent that he was growing obsessed with. Sylus slid one of his hands to your throbbing core, easily sliding his fingers through your slick. You couldn’t hold back a small yelp from slipping past your lips. You wriggled in Sylus’ grip, trying to fight your hips jutting forward as he lazily traced circles around your clit. His fingers barely moved around your plump lips, and already your wetness was echoing in the room for the both of them to hear.
Zayne stood frozen as he watched you become a plaything for Sylus. He focused on Sylus’ fingers swirling around your swollen bud, and your body twitching with every fragment of stimulation. You tried so hard to hold back any moans from escaping your lips, but your body reacted on its own. Every small jerk of your hips, every soft whimper you let out, and the beautiful look on your flushed face fueled his jealousy. He wasn’t angry you were committing an atrocious sin, he was upset because another man was making you feel this way. He should be the one to be making you writhe in ecstasy. “Are you sure you don’t want a taste, Father? I can attest that she’s quite delicious.” He smirked.
Zayne’s resolve finally snapped, hearing about this demon taking a taste for himself felt like the final straw. Moving closer to you he dropped to his knees, shooting a glare to Sylus before inspecting your dripping core. While Sylus’ hands went back to holding you wide open, Zayne’s gloved hands pressed into your inner thighs as he inched his face closer. His hot breath tickled your folds as he examined your glistening pussy up close. Your gaze flew open, you watched as Zayne leaned forward and placed his lips onto your cunt. Did your eyes deceive you? Was this another one of Sylus’ illusions?
“F-Father Zayne what are you-” You squeak, your voice quickly evolving into moans as his tongue dragged along your folds. You threw your body against Sylus’ large chest, gripping his forearm with an iron grip as you watched Zayne carefully. His approach to eating you out was a lot more awkward than Sylus’, but Lord, did it still feel amazing. A part of you kept waiting for you to snap awake and this all be a dream, a terribly horny dream, but it never did. Rather than having some farce imitation please you like the night prior, here was the real man pleasuring you. The real Zayne was between your legs, lapping at your sex with a hunger that you never thought would cross the young priest’s mind.
His thumb snaked up and pressed against your clit as he focused on pushing his tongue into your tight hole. Small groans left his lips every time your hole clenched around his tongue and it only encouraged him to please you more. He was going to be damned if a sex demon could please you better than he could. Your back arched and your hand made its way down to his dark locks, tightening your grip on them as if trying to tether yourself to reality. Sylus focused on nipping and kissing your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of marks without care. He didn’t intervene just yet but still wanted to make his presence known. The mix of pheromones in the room was intoxicating to him, making his body burn with a hunger he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He knew by the end of the night, he was going to be well fed for many moons to come.
For a moment, Zayne pulled his mouth away and looked up at you. His fingers lazily traced the outside of your hole, watching it twitch and beg to be filled. “Are you feeling alright, Sister?” You shakily nod, only being able to muster out a few whimpers.
“I think our dear Priest deserves a proper answer, don’t you think?” Sylus cupped your jaw and forced you to look at Zayne. “Go on…”
“I-It feels…s-so good!” You pant. “P-Please…don’t stop.”
“Well, don’t keep the lady waiting.” Sylus asserted. Zayne obediently followed his command and slipped two fingers into your throbbing pussy. You yelped in pleasure as you felt them slip inside. After spending months of looking at Father Zayne’s hands, you knew his fingers were beautifully long and thick, but you never thought you’d get to feel them nestled deep inside you. They were even bigger than you had imagined, hitting every sensitive spot inside of you as if his fingers were made for your pussy. He laid his tongue flat against your clit once more, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub. He suckled and swirled the tip of his tongue against it while thrusting his fingers slowly. Zayne began to realize how intoxicating this orchestra of noises that bellowed out of you were. They were more melodic than any record or choir he had ever heard. He had only just dipped his toes into temptation and was already jumping head first into the deep end.
As much as Sylus enjoyed watching the two of you play around, he was eager to have his own as well. Letting Zayne hold one of your thighs, he snaked his free hand up to one of your plump breasts. He groped the weight of it in his palm before rubbing the sensitive nub between two of his fingers. Electricity was coursing through your veins with every touch the two men gave you. Zayne’s fingers curled deep inside of you, rubbing against your most sensitive spot, causing your hips to shoot up off of Sylus’ lap. He methodically prodded against your g-spot and you already thought you were going to see heaven. Zayne was bringing you closer to orgasm with each second and Sylus was only adding fuel to the fire.
“Mmm…Don’t run from it, Kitten…Remember how good it felt last night? Why not show that same courtesy to your favorite priest? I’m positive he’s dying to see your blissed-out expression.” Sylus whispered, nuzzling his nose against your earlobe. Your hands latched onto whatever it could to ground you in this moment, opting to have one hand on Sylus’ forearm and your other fisted in Father Zayne’s hair.
“I-I~! Oh God~!” Unable to warn either of them, your body convulsed with pleasure, moans echoing out of you haphazardly. Looking at you, Zayne couldn’t believe his eyes. You were absolutely stunning as your face contorted with pleasure. He had been blessed to witness many beauties in life; breathtaking scenery, magnificent artwork, miracles performed in front of him, but yet they all paled in comparison to the flushed expression on your features. He thought back to all of the small smiles you had given him, the redness sprouting on your cheeks and the tip of your nose when you got embarrassed, the few times your hands bumped earlier while cleaning, and suddenly his greed consumed him. He wanted all of those things, he wanted more. He wanted to be the one who made you cum like this and moan his name, not some demon.
“Good girl…” Zayne whispered, standing up and pressing your lips together. His soft lips passionately danced with yours, your tongues quickly crashing against each other. Despite the sexual deviancy that you had grown accustomed to over the past two days, your heart couldn’t help but thump against your ribcage as you realized that Father Zayne was your first kiss. It was heated, passionate, and loving. Surely it wasn’t as innocent as you had envisioned but, God, did it satisfy you all the same.
He pulled away from your lips with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you two. You panted and collapsed against Sylus’ broad chest. Sylus rubbed between your legs, feeling your body jolt at the sudden stimulation.
“We’re not done yet, Kitten. It’s bad manners to cum without saying thank you.” He gripped your chin and forced you to look up at Zayne, eyes hazy from pleasure.
“T-Thank you…Zayne…” Your voice was soft and pliant, already tired from the intense orgasm.
“Mmm, good girl. Now don’t you think it’s time you return the favor?” Zayne was quick to interject.
“No. She doesn’t have to do more than necessary. She needs to rest.”
“Noble words for a man straining the stitches in his trousers.” You couldn’t help but follow your eyes down Zayne’s torso and notice the painful erection pressing up against his belt, practically begging to be released. You swallowed hard and moved your hand to your slick folds.
“It’s okay Zayne. I want you to feel good too.” You look up at him with sweet doe eyes, your gaze making his heart flip in his chest. He wanted to argue, to whisk you away to his chambers away from Sylus and let you rest but…how could he say no to you begging so nicely?
“I will continue, only if you promise to tell me if it’s too much. I do not wish to hurt you.” He cleared his throat. A small smile graced your lips as you nodded.
“Okay…” Zayne unbuckled his belt and freed himself from his trousers, his thick, throbbing cock springing free. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was in the presence of a sex demon or that you were just that sinfully erotic, but he had never experienced an erection this strong in his life. He quickly positioned himself in between your legs, rubbing the swollen tip against your puffy cunt. He could hardly stifle a groan as he realized just how drenched you were against him. He continued to rock his hips against you, frotting his tip against your already sensitive bud.
“Please Zayne…” You whimpered, pulling him closer to you. “Put it inside, I c-can’t wait any longer!” How could he resist a siren call like that? Without a word, he began to push himself inside. Your moans synchronized with his as his cock stretched your tight hole. Once he got the tip in, he stalled waiting for your body to adjust. Though it felt like a test of patience to not push himself fully inside, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you. When he took a vow of chastity he thought he could live without sex, but now he would be a broken man if he died without knowing what it was like to have your walls clench around him.
As noble as his intentions were, you were too impatient to appreciate it. You began to rock your hips against his, slowly inching his cock deeper inside of you. “Zayne please~! I need your dick as deep as it will go.” You couldn’t stop the filth from leaving your mouth. Your body ached and burned for him, you needed that tip to slap against your cervix until you couldn’t walk straight.
“But I don’t want to h-” Zayne struggled to compose a sentence, too enamored by the heat enveloping his throbbing member.
“You won’t hurt her. She’s ready to take your cock, Father. Don’t leave her waiting…or else I might have to show you how you’re supposed to fuck her.” Sylus prodded at Zayne. He could see the irritation spark on his face and with the jumpstart he needed, he slammed the rest of his cock into you. Your voice cried out as he began to thrust, giving you the unrelenting friction you so desperately needed.
“F-Fuck~! Yes…Nnn-yes~!” Your moans warbled out of your throat, your body finally melting into Sylus’ chest. Sylus’ hands never stopped playing with your breasts, teasing and tugging on the tender nubs. He loved watching your breasts bounce with each thrust, it made his own cock stir in his pants. His thick fingers moved to your cunt, and soon he began to shower your tiny bundle of nerves in attention. As Zayne thrusted inside of you, his fingers circled around your overstimulated clit, giving you a dual sensation you couldn’t fathom. “Oh Gods~! Fuck~!”
“Mmm…That’s it, Kitten. Just focus on our touch.” Sylus muttered, planting kisses against your exposed neck. Zayne’s thrusts grew more erratic as he could feel himself edging closer to climax. Any semblance of composure he walked in with was thrown out the window the second his cock was completely engulfed by you. His hands gripped the bedsheets underneath you until his knuckles turned white, tethering himself to this world as he pounded into you. Without either of you realizing it, Sylus had freed his own massive cock, hissing at the cool air brushing against his warm skin. “Ease up for a moment, Father. I think it’s fair that I get a turn as well. After all, I brought you two together.”
Zayne glared at Sylus, the displeasure etched deep into his face at the thought of sharing you with him. Even if he was correct, Zayne finally wanted to be selfish for once in his life and wanted to keep you all to himself. Sylus realized he wasn’t going to budge and could only chuckle at how much of an open book the priest was.
“Fine, have it your way.” Sylus nudged the tip of his cock against your already stuffed entrance, knocking you out of your fucked out trance.
“W-Wait…There’s no w-way I can fit both of you…” You whined, grabbing onto Sylus’ forearm once again.
“Trust me, Kitten. Just take a deep breath for me.” Before you could protest any further, you could feel the tip of his cock pushing into you. Zayne slowed down for a moment and Sylus took this opportunity to pop it inside. Both you and Zayne hissed from the pressure, feeling it in drastically different but equally delicious ways. The extra sensation of feeling full and the slight burn from the stretch made your legs shake and feeling the tip of Sylus’ cock rub against the bottom of his own had Zayne stifling a moan.
“Y-You…” Zayne uttered, trying to fight back against this intrusion but couldn’t deny how good it felt. He could feel every pulse in your pussy that much better, and the extra stimulation was just a bonus. Once he confirmed there was no pain or discomfort on your face, the tension in his shoulders ease. “Forgive me, Sister. I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself composed.”
“Then d-don’t be…” You whisper, pulling him closer towards you to crash your lips against him. His thrusts resumed after tasting your tongue against his, moving in synchrony with Sylus’ cock. When Zayne thrusted deep inside you, Sylus would wait to push his cock deeper once Zayne pulled back. The constant friction pummelling against your g-spot was a sensation you had never even heard or thought about. It was intoxicating. You moved your hand up from Sylus’ forearm to his hair, gripping it tight in your fist. The action caused him to groan in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. Your toes began to curl and your legs began to shake, letting all three of you know just how close you were to reaching your peak.
“I-I’m gonna c-cum~! I can’t hold it!” You cried out, volume control long abandoned.
“Let go for us, Sister.”
“Cum all over our cocks, Sweetie.”
With their encouragement, you finally let go. Your orgasm crashed over you in a deep wave, your body convulsing as your juices squirted onto their cocks. Your cum trickled down Zayne’s stomach and onto Sylus’ thick, muscular thighs. The two men moaned in unison at your pleasure, a shiver running up their spines as you wriggled between them. They both could feel themselves being edged closer and closer to cumming. Zayne buried his face into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as his balls tightened, emptying deep inside of you. Sylus wasn’t far behind, his seed flooding your insides and together your combined orgasms dripping down onto the sheets below.
Pants filled the air as the three of you rode out your blissful highs. Zayne brushed the stray hairs out of your face before planting soft kisses around your cheek and lips. Sylus complimented his movements, rubbing your thighs and stomach softly while nuzzling against your neck once again. The two men slowly pulled out of you, their cum gushing out from between your thighs leaving a bigger mess that one of you would have to clean up later. For now, you were happy enough to just mingle in the company of their warm bodies.
This was the most delicious meal Sylus had to date, and now that he’s had a taste, he’s hesitant he wants to leave it behind for good. Perhaps he could make an agreement with you two to keep his stomach full and your desires satiated.
nerd!zayne fucking you in full nelson in front of a full-length mirror while standing.
zayne isn’t your average nerd. he’s the final boss asian prodigy incarnate—top of every leaderboard, published papers before most people finish undergrad, the one everyone assumes is harmless behind those baggy hoodies, loose slacks, and thick glasses that slide down his nose. sure, the face is pretty enough that girls tease-flirt in the library sometimes, but no one ever pictured this—getting manhandled, folded in half, and railed stupid by the very same “nerd” they used to clown on.
the wet, obscene slap-slap-slap of skin on skin fills the room—slick, filthy, relentless. his glasses are completely fogged over, useless now, but his grip never falters— thick forearms locked under your knees, hands clasped behind your neck, holding you wide open in full nelson like you weigh nothing. he’s been pistoning up into your already swollen, oversensitive cunt for so long your legs are jelly, toes curling uselessly in the air, mind gone fuzzy and white.
his cum is leaking everywhere—thick white streaks dripping out around his fat cock every time he pulls back, running down his heavy balls, splattering onto the hardwood in fat, messy drops. it’s downright nasty. it ruins every clean, studious image anyone ever had of him. and yet here he is, still calculating, still observing, still perfectly aware of the exact angle that makes your whole body seize.
“look at yourself,” he rasps, voice rough and wrecked from hours of low groans, “taking this nerd cock so fucking well—”
he slams up especially hard and your tits jolt violently, a punched-out gasp ripping from your throat as your eyes cross and roll back. the mirror shows everything— your dripping slit stretched obscenely around him, his veiny length disappearing inside you over and over, your own wrecked expression, mouth slack, drool at the corner.
“told you it wasn’t small,” he huffs a dark, breathless laugh, thighs flexing powerfully under you with every brutal upward thrust, “you laughed. said i probably had a pencil dick under all those khakis.” another punishing snap of his hips. “who’s laughing now?”
his balls smack wetly against your ass on every stroke, cum frothing at your entrance, making the glide even slicker, even louder. he doesn’t slow down even after he cums again—hot, thick spurts painting your walls, overflowing instantly, running in rivulets down to the growing puddle beneath you. he just keeps fucking it deeper, grinding, stirring, like he’s trying to brand your insides with his shape.
“such a slut,” he growls against your ear, fogged glasses slipping further, “spread wide open on the dick you used to mock—” his voice cracks on a grunt as he bottoms out again, “now take it. hah—yes, fuck, just like that… you know how to take dick so well, don’t you? greedy little cunt sucking me in every time.”
he rocks you on his cock like you’re weightless, merciless, still going.
“go on then,” he murmurs, hoarse and mean and pleased all at once, “enlighten me more. tell me how good the nerd is ruining you.”
A/N: need him to freeze his dick and make me lick it like a popsicle.
there's just something so beautiful about having a huge, muscular, strong man absolutely whimpering from your touch, and your touch alone. to see his cheeks warm as he clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip to try and stop from rutting into your hand desperately. the way he tries to keep some sort of composure, or even just a sliver of his dignity, as you painfully tease him. your hand moving along his length ever so slowly, finger pads barely grazing the tip. you can't help but giggle as an array of curses and frustrated sighs fall from his lips, followed by a mixture of moans and barely-holding-on gasps. you watch the way his torso tenses and spasms as he tries to control himself but you're teasing so bad now that he begins to ache. he's growing weaker by the second and you're loving every second of it. he knows it too. he can see the glimmer in your eyes as he watches you tease him, pushing him further and further to the edge. by this point he's going to cum practically hands free , but he'd do anything to make you happy, even if that means letting you use him like a toy.
For my beloved @collapsedglasshouses for Motionless in White Kinktober 2025 - I kinda hijacked your request a little and made something soft and sweet I hope you enjoy<3
Pairing: Vinny Mauro x f!reader
Kink: body worship
cw: established relationship, cute streamer bf vinny, protected vaginal penetration, cursing, body worship, Vinny gets ridden!, soft aftercare; if I missed anything please let me know<3
wc 1412 | fic masterlist | taglist sign up || request a fic || dividers @saradika-graphics
It's been a few weeks since you've been home as your job has taken you international for a workshop and conference. With your luggage in tow, you open the front door of your house, heart beating rapidly in your ears. Motionless in White is on break for the winter so you hope your boyfriend is home. Somehow blessed by international flights you were able to arrive home a day early.
Quietly discarding your shoes and suitcases you tip toe to the office where you guess Vinny is streaming. Beneath the long cashmere overcoat is a the most expensive dress you own. A small clothing boutique piqued your interest while exploring the markets with your co-worker and best friend, Sasha.
The second you stepped into the shop; she was shoving this dress into your hands. When you stepped from the curtain of the dressing room, Sasha squealed and the shop owner gasped nearly dropping the garments in her hands. When she recovered, she exclaimed something in her native tongue, but her features mirrored closely to Sasha's.
You stand frozen with overwhelm at the tall mirrors as Sasha and the owner, Allegra dot over you. You find out that Allegra is not much older than you and that this is her first year owning the boutique. She along with her mother and aunts design and tailor each garment.
"How do you feel?" Allegra asks, her voice is soft and flows gently around the words she enunciates, which instantly soothes your nerves.
"I feel like a movie star!" you beam, your hands caressing the fabric at your hips. The fine silk hugs every curve of your body. The color of the garment literally melts into your skin as if it would tailor made just for you.
"Vinny's gonna lose his shit when he sees you," Sasha grins and then explains to Allegra that he's your long-term boyfriend. She adds, (without your permission but it's fine) that you hope Vinny will propose on Christmas.
"Well, you must have it then! I'll even give you a few discounts for being my first American customers!"
Your jaw drops and then your brain readies an excuse to dismiss her generosity, but by the time you've formed any words Allegra has ducked behind the sales counter.
"Look at my bestie getting a sexy dress in Italy! Vinny is going to eat you alive," Sasha winks and then shoos you back into the dressing room.
Holding your breath, you slowly push open the office door. The lights are dim allowing the LED strips to wash the room in a purple glow. You find Vinny sitting in the middle of the room behind his drum kit talking to his computer. Quietly you giggle to yourself as your heart beams. His passion for connecting with people is infectious and a delight to see firsthand.
You slip into the room not bothering with the door, your eyes tracking the monitors to verify that you are out of frame. You freeze in place along the wall right in his periphery. Suddenly, Vinny laughs. A full belly laugh, your favorite sound that makes your heart clench.
"Someone's here? Psshhh, I would have heard, dude," Vinny scoffs, tucking a ruddy strand of wavy hair behind his ear and that's when you spot the crinkle in the corner of his eye. He knows. He caught you.
"Wait, you guys hear that?" He looks off in the opposite direction of you, shoulders tensing. You bite down on your lip hard to keep from giggling. On the monitor the chat explodes in suspicion.
Vinny stands up nearly knocking over his drum throne and then stares straight into the Webcam. "Oh shit there's a ghost!" He yanks the cord disconnecting the video. There's a fury of messages asking what's going on. His dismisses all of them and then ends the stream.
"Don't worry about them," he huffs a laugh before raking his hand through his hair. His gaze narrows, drinking you in.
"So I'm the little ghost?" you quip, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Without warning, he closes the distance between you. His hands come to rest on the collar of the coat and he leans in, "An elegant spirit come to possess me." His voice is low and breathy. A shiver crawls down your spine. He kisses the crook of you neck and then delicately unbuttons your cashmere overcoat. Vinny practically purrs at the sight of you in the dress. "Looks like Italy loved you."
Together you discard the coat. Vinny takes your hand and twirls you around. A laugh erupts from your throat.
"You are so gorgeous," Vinny mumbles against your bare shoulder as he unzips the dress. His hands are gentle and when he tugs the thin straps down your arms. In one fluid motion, the dress falls to the floor leaving you completely bare. Arousal heats your core, the familiar ache between your thighs pulses with every sway of your hips as you approach the bed. You hear the rustling of belt buckles and fabric fall to the floor.
"Your throne awaits my queen," Vinny's lust drenched rasp sparks something powerful within you.
Quickly, Vinny readies himself for you, rolling on a condom and slicking his hard cock with lube. You've waited so long to feel him again. So many lonely nights in the huge Italian hotel room.
His gaze flicks up to yours. "I haven't touched myself since you left," he confesses.
"I haven't either." The words barely leave your mouth before your straddling his hips.
The familiar scent of his cologne grounds you, anchors you to him as you slowly sink onto him. The stretch of him burns only briefly giving way to a pleasurable fullness.
Vinny's lashes flutter the moment he bottoms out. He's so pretty, large green eyes hazy with lust and adoration. You can't help but smile and caress his jaw where patches of stubble have made their home since you were away. Leaning forward slightly you pull him into a soft kiss. Vinny moans against your lips, his hands roaming over your sides until they land on your hips. He kisses you deeper while using his hands to grind you back and forth. Every touch of his lips and thrust of his hips is unhurried despite the aching and heat in your core. His ever-present fingers dig a little deeper— a little more desperate.
When you start to feel a little floaty, you force your eyes open and then gently push Vinny back onto the pillows. "God, I missed you so fucking much." You pant, gasping for breath. Planting your hands firmly on his chest you tilt your hips forward and then slowly lift and lower yourself until you find the perfect rhythm. Vinny matches you almost instantly with each thrust.
"Shit, oh my god babe," Vinny blurts out. "God, you feel amazing. Fuck."
You can't help but dig your manicured nails into his chest earning you a deep groan and a curse from Vinny's bitten lips. Suddenly, he pulses within your walls a telltale sign he's almost close. A sly grin curves your lips before you tweak both of his nipples.
"Fuck.. fuck off," he huffs but his smile widens mischievously. His grip on your hips tightens and suddenly you're rolled onto your back and somehow, he doesn't slip out. Vinny laughs and then pins your wrists onto the pillows by your head. You're laughing too and immediately wrapping your legs around his hips. The thrill heightening your arousal even more and then he slams into you hitting the spot that makes you see stars.
"That's it sweetheart come all over my cock." The rasp in his voice and his desire catapult you over the edge. Your legs tense as you clench around him.
"Vinny!" you gasp.
"Oh my god," his voice falters slightly. His pace quickens as he pounds into you, skin slapping desperation as Vinny chases his own climax.
"Shit I-I'm coming," he pants.
"Come with me baby," you whine back arching, lashes fluttering closed as your climax washes over you. Together you both sigh coming back down to earth. Vinny pecks a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before parting to the bathroom. Barely conscious in your blissed out state, you hardly notice Vinny cleans you up and then tucks you. Moments later he slides into bed with you and kisses your hair. Before sleep overtakes you, he whispers, "I love you."
Summary: Your brother’s best friend AJ needed you to fill in some gaps for front of house on a Motionless in White tour, and after weeks of getting closer to Vinny than you probably should, divine intervention in the form of a broken shower forces you to acknowledge what you’re both avoiding.
Content: swearing, little make out sesh, reader has a back tat (because it makes sense and I know we all want one), reader’s best friend is female
Word count: 3.8k
Today, you have been ridiculously lucky.
In general, you are in a stream of luck in your life right now. You have been on tour with Motionless in White for the past seven weeks, but you weren't supposed to be. Two months ago, your brother got a call from his best friend AJ, the band's front-of-house manager. He had vented to your brother about one of the crew members having to cancel last minute for a family emergency and struggling to find a replacement on such a short time limit.
That was where you came in. You had been beside him on the couch and he turned to you with a wide smirk before telling AJ that he had the perfect person. You had minored in music technology in school and kept it up as a hobby, and that was good enough for AJ. Even though he knew he would need to give you a few crash courses, he preferred that over taking a chance on someone he didn't know.
Less than two weeks later, you were loading into a tour bus with a group of 11 men that you only knew loosely to do a job that you only had entry level experience in.
To your shock, it all went over really well. AJ was a wonderful teacher and between him, Chris, and the other techs, you felt comfortable by the time the first show came around. You had to get your footing the first few shows and they weren't perfect, but they were pretty damn good for the experience you had.
You have gotten really close to the band along the way. Everyone was extremely kind and welcoming from the first day you met them, Chris and Justin already knowing you loosely through your brother and AJ, and it felt like you had fallen perfectly into a puzzle. You and Chris bonded over music production, Ricky had such a similar sense of humor to yours that it was almost scary, and Justin, Ryan, and Vinny all taught you the video games they had on board no matter how badly you sucked.
Everyone had become a good friend to you, but only one of them was a problem: Vinny. There was nothing wrong with him, but that was your concern. You both spent pieces of every day together. Sometimes it would only be a game or a chat in the morning and then a congratulations after the show, but other times you would be inseparable. You liked those days the best and it was torture.
The last thing you wanted was a tour romance with someone in the band your brother's best friend works with.
It had gotten harder and harder recently to ignore the draw to him and the chemistry. At first, you had just been attracted to him and got on well. You would catch yourself staring at him while he played games or hanging on his every word when he spoke. He would tease you and loved when you gave him sass for it, and every conversation revealed more things you have in common. Now, you both can't help the small touches that you brush off as accidents and the glances that you swear are coincidental or not targeted at each other. Some days, he comes off stage and has a gleam in his eyes that makes you want to drag him to the nearest empty room. Other days, you both talk and laugh for hours until your roles force you apart.
And then there were the two times where you both almost kissed. The first time, you thought better of it. The second, it was probably a good thing that Justin unknowingly interrupted.
Now, you are sitting in the bed of your hotel room—having a room to yourself was another perk of being the only woman—and watching one of your favorite older movies on the TV. Everyone had talked about going out together for the second to last day off of the tour, but you had turned them down. You were usually more than willing to join, but tonight you were having a private date with your bed.
Your hotel room has a beautiful view of the city, that being another part of your luck today. Between some of the best movies being on TV, you managing to kick Justin's ass at Madden this morning, and getting an extra coffee because the barista made one too many earlier, you have been content to bask in the good energy.
Your phone goes off from the table beside your bed and you glance down, seeing Vinny's name (rather, Chenzy the Drum God). The preview is hidden since it is still locked, but you know it is probably him giving you a hard time for not joining everyone. They had decided to visit a sports bar for a football game, which you only considered for the alcohol and socializing before turning down the offer.
Just as you click on the notification and lift the device to open his message chain, your screen is filled with your best friends face. Her ringtone plays loudly and you chuckle before answering, telling yourself to go back and check his message later.
"Hey," you greet your friend and pull your knees up towards your chest so you can rest your arms on them.
"Hey!" Her face lights up on your screen, almost a mirror image of your own in the corner of the call.
"I was wondering if you would ever call," you chastise her jokingly, referring to your earlier request that she call you.
"Uh huh, whatever," she blows off your comment and raises her eyebrows. "What's going on? You seemed like something was bothering you."
"It's Vinny," you sigh with a sheepish smile.
Her face lights up at the words. "In a good way?"
"I think so. I'm just so confused. He's all I want in a person and I think it's pretty obvious between us that we're both into each other after what happened the other night. But I swear he's messing with me. You should see the shit he does in soundcheck when I'm trying to work," you groan and run a hand over your hair.
"Have you talked about it? Maybe you guys can work something out for after tour," she suggests.
You shake your head and play with a loose thread on your bed sheets. "I don't know. I mean, he may not really want anything. I'm the only woman here and he's been in forced proximity with me for the past month and-a-half. It could just be a fling and I can't complicate things like that."
"Do you even hear yourself? You sound so immature right now," she chastises you. "You're both adults. Grow up and talk about it instead of making assumptions. What's the worst he can do? Laugh in your face and say you're delusional?"
Instead of answering, you put your middle finger up towards the camera. She laughs and begins to come up with all of the worst scenarios. The more she comes up with, the more you realize you might be overthinking it.
Worst case scenario, he thinks you're delusional.
Maybe he would tell you he only wants something physical, a release from all the insanity of being on the road.
Maybe he would tell you this is just how he is and he doesn't mean any of it. The other guys had called him a flirt as a joke after all.
No, worst case scenario would be him telling you he likes you only to not mean it.
You wouldn't say that out loud, though. You laugh instead and catch up on her life for a few minutes before she has to cut the call short. After a goodbye, you shut your phone off and decide to head for the shower.
The warm water welcomes you when you start the stream. You secure your hair out of the way, not needing or wanting to wash it yet. All you want is to cleanse away some of the exhaustion from tour before truly getting comfortable in bed. You hope the water will help wash away your anxiety as well.
Maybe you could talk to Vinny. You had come a long way from your quiet self in the past. It was terrifying to think about being lied to again like usual, but you couldn't not trust people forever. And really, he had no reason to lie. He wouldn't have to be around you after this upcoming week, so it was a short enough time that the awkwardness of rejection wouldn't ruin the energy of everything else too much.
After several minutes of cleaning off and letting the water wash away your overwhelming thoughts, you finally step out and dry off. You wrap your towel around your body and gather your clothes before heading back into the room so you can change.
"Final- oh!"
The yelp leaves your throat the second you turn to your bed, none of the words registering. You lock eyes with Vinny, phone in his hand but gaze pinned on you and jaw hanging open with lost words, sitting on the edge of your bed in sweats and a t-shirt.
You can feel your eyes spread wide in shock.
“Christ, Vinny! What are you doing in my room?!" You yell at him.
"I texted you! Ricky gave me your spare key so I could come shower since ours is broken. I thought you were going to the bar!" He rambles, eyes darting around between your face, the room around you, and the towel covering your body.
His gaze goes below your face one too many times and makes reality set in. You clutch the place where your towel is tucked on your chest to keep it firmly in place. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
It made sense now that you thought about it. AJ had mentioned that Ricky and Vinny's shower in their room was broken. The hotel agreed to make up for it, but they didn't have any rooms available to move them. You had offered in the morning for them to use yours and gave Ricky your extra key, but it had slipped your mind throughout the day.
"I decided to stay back," you manage to say before his words really catch up and remember that he had indeed texted. "My best friend called right as I opened your text and I forgot to go back and read it."
"That would explain why it said you read it," he chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. "I thought you were ignoring me."
"Right, because I would ignore you," you scoff jokingly.
"Well you clearly forgot about me," he grins back and stands up, leaving his phone and what looks like a change of clothes on the mattress.
"Details, details."
Your breath catches in your throat after you sass him, suddenly very aware of the shortened distance between you. You glance down and then back up to his eyes. Ten inches of space feels a lot closer than it looks. The air between you goes tense and you hear his breathing falter as well.
The thoughts hit you hard and fast. What would his skin feel like on yours? How would he kiss you? How would he touch you? What would have him wrapped around your finger? Had he thought about you like this before?
Was he thinking about it right now?
"I," you start, clearing your throat and taking a step back, "Uh, I should get dressed."
"Right," Vinny crumbles before you and nods, looking away.
The cool air of distance feels so sad when he gives you more space. You turn away and quietly pad over to the sizable desk by the window where your small luggage sits, taking up only half of the surface.
You swallow down the desire that is clawing its way up your limbs, begging you to turn around and tell him how you really feel. Just the idea of his body against yours and the things he might do has your legs unsteady. It seems like such a great and horrible idea all at once.
"I didn't know you had a back tattoo."
You turn away from your suitcase and catch Vinny pulling his gaze up to your eyes. There is so much going on in them that you can't even fathom putting it into words.
"Yeah," you smile. "It hurt like a bitch and healing it sucked, but at least I look cool.
He grins at your response and you have to look away. You turn back towards your luggage to quickly grab pajamas. If you don't get changed and move past this now, you will end up throwing caution to the wind and kissing him right where he stands.
"Can I see it?"
You freeze in your tracks and whip your head back around. Part of you expects him to have a playful smirk on his face to emphasize a joke, but you find his expression absolutely serious. He had seen most of your tattoos and always said he loved hearing you talk about them, but this . . .
"Nevermind, that was probably bad timing," he grimaces and starts to leave for the bathroom.
"Sure," you blurt, his back being turned to you making you even more desperate for his company.
You make eye contact for a moment where he studies you. The moment makes you so nervous that you turn your back to him again and take a deep breath. Once your breath is out, you loosen the hold of your towel and use your arm to keep your chest covered. You carefully let the towel droop until you know the whole upper two-thirds of your back is displayed to show the artwork. Then you tighten your grip on the fabric again and try not to shudder at both the chill on your skin and the nerves.
The silence feels long and is stretched so tight you don't dare move. You can feel how intensely he is looking, but you have no idea what to expect. His presence looms closer now than he was, you just don't have the courage to glance back at him.
Admittedly, this is not how you had pictured him seeing this for the first time, but it couldn't be changed.
Several heartbeats pass. Just when you start to wonder if everything is okay and are preparing to turn, you feel his fingertips brush your skin. The gentle sensation warms you beyond just the place he touches you and electricity races through your veins.
If your body wasn't already stiff, it is now. Your heartbeat picks up insanely quicker and it's like you can feel every line of his fingerprints as he carefully traces some of the design. His touch sends shivers through you and you can feel the goosebumps rise with every centimeter he moves.
"Wow," he says, breathless. "This. . . You are fucking beautiful."
Beautiful.
You bring the towel back up fast, knocking his hand away with the sudden move. As soon as you have it secured tightly again, you spin to find him surprised with his hands raised in surrender.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
"Do you really mean that?" You ask, pulse hammering. "Because I have no idea what's going on between us and I can't just keep wondering."
He sighs and looks away, taking a breath. You cross your arms over your chest and decide to put your trust in the towel holding. At this point, you don't care that you still don't have clothes on. You know Vinny doesn't always acknowledge his feelings and it seems like he might actually talk about it right now.
"I've been really guarded for a while. You know how it is," he starts and looks at you again, "trust issues and all of that. It's just so hard to make something work when this is my life and I'm tired of things falling apart when I have to be gone for months.
"I feel like this all makes sense, the connection I have with you, because you know how this works and you're so understanding," he continues, "but AJ is so protective of you and neither of us want you hurt. I love our energy and I'm worried that I'll fuck it up and lose you completely."
"You're not going to hurt me, Vinny," you tell him.
"You don't know that," he frowns.
"Yes I do," you laugh and unfold your arms to reach out and grab his shoulders, "because I won't let you. I've been through enough that I know how to handle a lot of shit."
"You make it really hard to say no," a smile creeps up to his face with the words.
You smile back at him and take in his features from this close like you have a few times before. Your mind goes back to the two close calls where you've been in this same predicament. His eyes are bright like they were before, glowing golden brown, and his scent invades your space like a pleasant cloud.
"Then don't," you mutter, letting your eyes fall to his lips for a heartbeat.
He whispers your name like he's warning you, giving you a chance to take it back. The thick air between you is slipping and you feel the fear relaxing.
Maybe it won't work out between you or maybe it will, but right now doesn't seem like a time to be worried about that.
You run your hands down his arms and guide his hands to your waist. When you look back up, his eyes are locked on yours and you can see the control slipping in them. His grip firms on you as you wrap your arms around his neck. You smile again and pull him in, and the closing distance cuts him loose.
Vinny's lips slam into yours, warm and eager. The sensation blooms through you and it feels like something your mind and body have needed forever. He slides an arm around your middle to pull you closer and you catch yourself doing the same thing. All of the built up want and desire that you have been ignoring bubbles up and fills your head like adrenaline. He feels close but so far, the kiss deep but not deep enough.
The intensity has you stumbling back into the desk, one of his hands reaching out to lessen the impact on your low back. Soft laughter from you both breaks the kiss briefly.
"Shit, my bad. I didn't mean to knock you over," Vinny mumbles sheepishly.
"Oh, don't go easy on me now," you muse between a couple of smaller kisses.
He pulls away only a couple of inches and raises his eyebrows. "You're in a towel. I'm trying to be respectful."
"Hmm, chivalry isn't dead," you hum teasingly and move a hand to his jaw to bring him back in.
You kiss him again, firm and slow. He groans against your lips and pins you against the desk with how close he shifts.
"Believe me, it's not coming easily right now," he mutters against you between gasps for air.
His hands drift lower and lower to your hips and you can feel the towel riding up with all of the shifting against each other. Your kisses are getting deeper and more passionate. His tongue brushes yours every now and then and before you know it, you're sitting on the edge of the desk with him between your legs. He never dares to venture too close to your inner thighs and under the towel, but the security of it around your chest is getting looser and you start to wonder if maybe you should take your time.
His hands feel like they belong on you and he kisses you like he's been doing it for years, and you want to live in that forever. You want to drag this out, really learn him and savor every step. Of course you want him—God, need him—but starting so abruptly over one night in a hotel room on the road doesn't feel as close as you want it to.
Another one of your favorite things about Vinny is how he practically has a train of thought specifically connected to your mind. He has been there to bail you out of more than one conversation you didn't want to be in even if he was in a completely other room, he always knows when you need a snack or haven't had water in a while.
This time, he seems to catch onto your internal dilemma.
"You're thinking," he states, easing out of the moment with softer, smaller kisses.
"Sorry," you smile apologetically and take your hand out of his hair to gesture at your head. "Never shuts off."
"One of these days, I'll take that as a challenge," he smirks and takes his hands off of you to brace them on the desk, but he stays close. "What's bothering you?"
You purse your swollen lips for a second and brush some of his hair behind his ear, something he's said he avoids but you think is cute. When he scowls, you smile and try not to laugh.
"I was thinking that maybe we shouldn't rush," you say. "I mean, this is a very convenient situation to do whatever we want and I definitely thought about it, but I genuinely like who you are and I don't want that to get lost in lust and physical things."
He seems to consider what you said and then nods. "I like that idea. I feel like going from 10 to 100 in your hotel room while everyone else is out seems like we're trying to be sneaky."
You extend your hand to him and he takes it, letting you give him a firm handshake. He laughs as you say, "Pleasure doing business with you."
"I look forward to our partnership," he agrees, "but I need to go shower and let you put actual clothes on before you distract me again."
As he backs away, you feign offense and cross your arms.
Vinny picks up his clothes from where they were left on the end of your bed and comes back to give you another quick kiss. He is walking off again before you can try to catch him and keep him here.
"Vin," you call after him.
He pauses and turns to look at you, hand on the door to the bathroom.
"Do you wanna stay and watch a movie after?"
The smile he gives you makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and all he says is, "Duh."
✹ PAIRINGS: RE2R Leon Kennedy x Barista!Reader
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The first time you met Leon was when you were preparing some chocolate cake to be baked. You heard the bell ringing, and saw him walking in a bit... shy, to say the least.
He was looking at literally everything, and you knew all too well it's because he'd never been in there. In fact, you actually had count of all the clients that went to your little coffee shop... and, with him, it was a total of now 9 of them in almost two weeks.
You put a smile on your face the moment he reached the counter.
"Hi, welcome in! How can I help you today?"
Leon did nothing but keeping his eyes on the menu for way too long.
"You can take your time! There's no need to rush, really."
"Thanks," and then he looked at you again and he just smiled shyly back at you.
It took him quite a while to decide what he wanted to order not only for him, but for the whole S.T.A.R.S. team and other few cops he was close (almost the whole RPD)
"Uh... I think I'll just have 24 coffees. Medium. And could you put them in a big bag if it isn't much trouble for you? Thanks..."
You were just in shock with how many coffees he ordered. Actually, you were in shock because that's the biggest order you received so far... but everything's a start, of course.
"Of course! You want me to write any name on the bag? So I don't get confused with it, you know..."
You cursed yourself when you said that, of course... but you felt like you really had to convince him that your business was going great.
"Leon." "Leon... Got it!"
You wrote it down, taking your time so your handwriting was the best as possible, and of course, you had to add a smiley face next to his name.
Leon and you barely talked while you were preparing everything for him, and just told you quite a few times (more than the necessary ones) "thank you" (while you couldn't stop smiling) before he left.
After that day, Leon becomes a regular customer, and he always goes to order at the same exact time to order those 24 medium coffees.
Leon always gives you a huge tip which, honestly, you feel bad about receiving but can't complain about it since you really need the money.
You start having little conversations, getting to know each other more. You're the one who starts them, asking Leon how his shift's going and if he's been in too much trouble. He always asks you about what you're baking that day and if you were busy (specially when he knows you don't).
You start venting with him a bit about how the business isn't going as good as you thought it'd go, which makes Leon starts having ideas on how to help you.
Leon's quite surprised that you can actually remember his order, and you just laugh about it.
"But... how?" "Leon: it's exactly the same one everyday. You've been coming here for like three months now."
One of the things he likes the most about going to see you and ordering isn't only talking with you, but seeing how you get everything ready.
Every day that goes by, he starts staying a little longer to the point he starts coming back to his shift later than he's supposed to, always making a different excuse.
Barry and Marvin know that Leon's excuses are a shame, but they just let him go because his mood's much better since he started going to your coffee shop.
There was this time when they were quite busy at RPD that Leon, shyly, called you to ask you if you could bring the order there. To say that they actually were so happy to finally meet who's been brighting up Leon's days is to say the least.
Marvin even asked you to appear every day at RPD so Leon could actually see you and not have his mind somewhere else after coming back from your coffee shop. You just smiled and said "thank you" while your cheeks started being quite red.
Leon, of course, didn't stop going to visit you no matter what everyone told him. Chris even told said once to him that you should definitely hire Leon since he seemed more... invested about baking and making coffees.
And, actually... it kinda happened the moment he set up a bake sale outside RPD to help you (and your business, of course) after you got robbed and your coffee shop literally was ruined.
Worth mentioning Leon felt like shit that he couldn't stop the robbers since, come on, he's a cop. He's supposed to help you.
Your mood wasn't the best and you didn't want anyone to pity you, and even when you told Leon quite a few times that it wasn't necessary, he still did.
It turned out to be not a great thing to get back to your business, but also to get more customers.
Every time he has free time after his shift? He just goes and asks you what he can help you with, specially as you start getting more customers.
When you get back to your place, everything goes back to normal... unless things are way more different with Leon.
Even you have now lots of customers, he's still the #1 (and he's your #1 fan, no doubt).
You now have long full conversations, and now almost everything about each other... except that your relationship doesn't seem to go beyond anything related to your work or his.
But, come on: you both wish things were different... However, you don't know how to cross the line you both settled without even talking about it.
You're the one who starts crossing it by simply writing little cute notes on post-its and giving them to Leon every time you handed him his bag with those 24 medium coffees.
Also, you start baking a little bit more about everything daily to give it to Leon. Like... a whole box just of cookies, cupcakes, little cake pieces...
"We had extras today!" "I don't know if—" "You can share with the RPD guys... but it's for you. Thought you might like them." "But..." "Leon. Really."
Then, the days after, when he comes back to order, he just brings you something you told him you liked. Always.
One day, it was a book you told him you wanted to read. Other day, it was just some stupid chocolate you said out loud you were craving.
He even bought you once a bouquet of flowers because this girl who was getting married came with one and you just said that you never got one of those bouquets but you'd love to.
To say you were starting to fall for Leon was something... but Leon was falling for you too.
You kept your dynamics until Chris came with Leon to take the daily order (this time, it was 50 medium coffees) and basically how stupid you both were.
"You better ask her out tomorrow. If not, I'd ask her out for you." "Chris... I'm not asking her out." "Yes, you are. You like her, she likes you. Easy." "She doesn't like me." "She does. Shut up."
Leon ends up taking Chris advice... just not the way he probably should have.
He goes to visit you twice that day. First to, obviously, get the coffee, and after his shift (and after going home and get a shower and get changed into something else that's not his RPD uniform).
Leon sees you're taking a break, having one of your cookies while talking with a little girl no older than 3.
He doesn't say anything because he loves how nice you're being with the girl, but you end up seeing him and quickly tell him "Hi!"
No to mention you hug him and that makes Leon blush a lot and get more nervous.
"I'm surprised to see you again! Did something happened?" "No, no... just wanted to come to see you." "Leon, you see me every day."
He doesn't say anything else because it's stupid... but he's too shy to actually do something.
You can't help but smile nonstop at his shyness and at how awkward he's acting, rubbing his neck and smiling shyly.
"Leon..." you push him a bit because you know he wants to tell you something, and it's making you nervous that he's not talking you anything yet. "Is there anything you want?"
"Well... This might be weird, or—" "Leon... it's just me." "I now I come here a lot but—" "I know it. You're my favourite customer. And a great friend, too."
That confession takes you both by surprise, but somehow it makes you feel more comfortable.
You look at each other and your smiles grow a bit more.
He starts pulling out his phone, his hands trembling a bit... and making the phone fall on the floor, which makes him nothing but feel like an idiot. You just find him even more cute, and somehow quite nice.
"So... as a friend... Would it be okay if I got your number?" "Yeah... I'd like that. Been wanting that for a long time, actually."
Leon's relief is immediate, and of course noticeable, which makes you laugh a little.
"So... and before I fuck up something else... would you like to go to the cinema?"
You smile again, and without even thinking about it, give him a quick hug followed by a kiss on his cheek, a bit closer to his lips than you thought about.
"Yes. I'd quite like that. And, since we seem to be making plans... I thought on going then to have dinner. You'd like that?"
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April 1st at BSAA headquarters started like any other day.
Which, in hindsight, should have been the first warning sign.
The building moved in its usual rhythm, agents filing reports, boots echoing through the hallways, coffee machines working overtime to keep everyone functional. Chris sat in his office reviewing paperwork, already irritated, already tired, already one inconvenience away from losing his patience.
Leon, meanwhile, had arrived early.That was the second warning sign.He had been unusually quiet that morning, moving through the building with a level of focus that did not match his usual energy. No jokes. No comments. No leaning in doorways being a menace.
Just… silent.
Productive.
Which, if anyone had stopped to think about it, should have terrified them.
You noticed, because of course you did. The man was your husband after all.You stood near the break room watching him walk past with a coil of something suspiciously like wire tucked under his arm.
“…Leon,” you called lightly.
He glanced back, completely innocent. “Yeah?”
Your eyes narrowed. “…What are you doing.”
Leon smiled. “Improving morale.”
You should have stopped him, you didn't of course for many reasons. You did not work here, you were pregnant and most of all you were curious.
And that made you just as guilty.
The first victim was Chris.Because of course it was.
Chris stepped into the hallway with his usual no-nonsense stride, already mid-thought, already halfway through mentally planning his next meeting. He didn’t notice anything out of place.
Why would he?Everything looked normal.
He passed one of the doors and into the break room. The man wasn't paying attention when he grabbed a mug to fill up with water, didn't notice the sprayer was taped.
But the moment he turned it on.
PSSSSHHHHHHHH.
A burst of water sprayed directly into his face and chest, the man frantically turning the water off.
Chris froze.
Dripping.
Completely still.
Water ran down his face, soaked into his shirt, dripped off his jaw.The hallway went silent.Somewhere behind him, you made a small, strangled sound trying not to laugh.
Chris slowly wiped his face.“…Kennedy.”
Leon appeared at the far end of the hall, leaning casually against the wall like he had been there the entire time.
“Hydration is important,” Leon said.
Chris stared at him.“I am going to kill you.”
Leon nodded thoughtfully.“Noted.”
Barry was next.
Barry walked through the hallway carrying a stack of reports, completely unaware of the strip of clear tape stretched perfectly across the doorway at face level.
You saw it.
You opened your mouth but it was too late and of course Barry walked straight into it.
THWAP.
He stopped dead, his head jerked back.The reports slid slightly in his hands as he blinked, completely disoriented.
“I can’t see!” Barry said, voice muffled slightly as the tape stuck across his face.
You lost it and Emily, who had been standing nearby, dropped to the floor laughing.
Rose covered her mouth, giggling softly beside her.
Leon, from down the hall, leaned against the wall like this was the greatest thing he had ever witnessed.
Barry slowly peeled the tape off his face.“…I’m too old for this.”
Leon called out helpfully, “You handled that with grace.”
Barry pointed at him.“You’re next.”
Chris did not learn, that was his mistake.
He stormed back into his office, still damp, still irritated, muttering under his breath as he grabbed his chair and sat down.
The moment his full weight hit it.
CRACK.
The chair collapsed, the back gave out, one leg snapped slightly, and Chris dropped down with a heavy thud, reports flying.
The entire office froze and from the hallway you laughed.
Leon leaned into the doorway, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“…Structural failure,” Leon said calmly.
Chris didn’t move, didn't speak.Just sat there for a long, quiet moment.
Then slowly stood, turned and looked directly at Leon. “I am going to end you.”
Leon held up his hands.“It’s team bonding.”
Chris stepped forward.“It’s harassment.”
Leon shrugged.“Semantics.”
By noon, the entire building was on edge.No one touched doors without checking first.No one sat down without testing the chair.Every hallway crossing was treated like a potential ambush.
Except for three people.
You.
Emily.
And Rose.
You leaned against the wall watching Chris carefully inspect his coffee cup before taking a sip, your shoulders still shaking from laughter.
Emily had declared it the “best day ever.”
Rose stayed close to her, giggling quietly every time someone fell victim to another harmless but deeply irritating prank.
Leon walked up beside you, slipping an arm around your waist like he hadn’t just caused widespread chaos. “You’re enjoying this,” he murmured.
You leaned into him, smiling.“…A little.”
Emily ran past, shouting something about “checking the next trap.”
Rose followed at a much more careful pace.
Chris, across the room, pointed at Leon again, chest heaving.“This ends now.”
Leon tilted his head.“…Does it?”
Chris narrowed his eyes.
Leon smiled.
And somewhere in the building, another shout echoed.
Chris closed his eyes.“…I hate him.”
You laughed, while Leon looked entirely satisfied.
The chaos hadn’t stopped of course, if anything, it had escalated.
By mid-afternoon, the entire BSAA building had reached a very specific level of tension the kind where everyone knew something else was coming, but no one knew what or when. People moved cautiously, suspicious of door handles, chairs, vents… even their own coffee.
Chris had reached his limit hours ago.
He had dried off from the water trap, replaced the broken chair, and spent the last hour trying to maintain some level of professionalism while internally planning Leon’s very slow and painful demise.
Which was why he hadn’t noticed.Not the faint smudges.Not the way a few agents had looked at him and then quickly looked away.Not the quiet snickering that followed him down the hallway.
He was too focused.Too done with this god awful day.
So when the medic approached him….the very one he had a not so obvious crush on, her soft and hesitant like she always was, he didn’t think anything of it.
“Um… Chris?”
He looked up immediately, his entire posture shifting just slightly, like it always did around her.
“Yeah?”
She hesitated, clearly trying not to smile.“…You have ink on your face.”
Chris blinked.“…What.”
Her lips pressed together, clearly fighting it now as she cocked her head to the side.“On your face,” she repeated gently.
Chris frowned slightly, already reaching up to touch his cheek.“…Where?”
She gestured vaguely.“…Everywhere.”
There was a beat of silence and Chris turned. The man walked slowly toward the nearest reflective surface.
And then he saw it.
His face.
Completely.
Decorated.
Someone….Leon ( of course ) had taken the time to draw on him while he slept.
There were exaggerated eyebrows. A mustache. Something that might have been fangs. Possibly a monocle.
It was a masterpiece.
Chris stood there, staring at himself, completely still.
The hallway went silent and then.“KENNEDY!”
The shout echoed through the entire floor, Agents flinched.Some ducked out of sight.Others immediately turned to watch.
From down the hall, Leon’s voice called back casually, “Don’t fall asleep in the break room!”
Chris turned slowly, very, very slowly away from the medic. "Excuse me." He then took a deep breath in. “You better have your wife plan a funeral,” he said, voice low and deadly, “because you are going to die.”
Leon appeared at the far end of the hallway just in time to see Chris start moving.
Fast.
Leon’s eyes widened. “…Worth it.” He then aburptly turned and ran.
Chris took off after him immediately, boots pounding against the floor with terrifying speed.
“GET BACK HERE!”
Leon laughed, dodging around a corner.“Catch me first!”
Agents flattened themselves against the walls as the two of them tore through the building, one fueled by pure vengeance, the other by terrible decisions and zero regret.
Claire leaned over the railing just in time to see Leon sprint past. “Oh my god—”
Chris followed seconds later, still partially inked, still furious. “I’M GOING TO END YOU!”
Barry shook his head as he watched them disappear.
You stood off to the side, one hand covering your mouth as you laughed, shoulders shaking.Emily clung to your side, laughing just as hard.
Rose stood beside her, giggling softly, eyes wide as she watched the chaos unfold.
The medic stood a few feet away, still smiling slightly despite herself, her gaze lingering in the direction Chris had run.“…He looks good even with a mustache,” she murmured.
You laughed harder and down the hallway, something crashed.
Leon’s voice echoed faintly.“IT WAS JUST A PRANK!”
Chris’s voice followed immediately after.“I WILL SHOW YOU A PRANK!”
And somewhere in the building, another trap waited.
The restaurant was warm, low-lit, the kind of place that felt expensive without trying too hard. Soft music hummed in the background, glasses clinked quietly, and the world felt… slow for once.
You sat across from Leon, fingers curled around your drink, smiling at something stupid he had just said.
He was relaxed, one arm draped over the back of his chair, suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled just enough to show strong forearms. His tie was already loosened because of course it was and his attention stayed exactly where it always did when you were together.
On you.
“—and then Chris looks at me like I’m the problem,” he finished, shaking his head.
You laughed softly, leaning forward. “You are the problem.”
“Wow,” he scoffed. “That’s crazy. I thought you were on my side.”
“I am,” you grinned. “I’m just also honest.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes soft, something fond flickering across his face as he looked at you and then it shifted. Just slightly,not enough for anyone else to notice.But you felt it.
You turned your head instinctively and your stomach dropped. “…Oh.”
Leon’s gaze followed yours immediately, posture straightening just a fraction.
“Friend of yours?” he asked, calm but already alert.
You swallowed. “No,” you said quietly. “Not… not really.”
Your ex was already walking over, because of course he was. Same smug expression. Same look in his eyes that you remembered hating even when you were with him.
“Wow,” he said as he approached, looking between the two of you. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
You forced a polite smile, already shrinking in on yourself just a little. “Hey.”
Leon didn’t say anything.Didn’t move.But his attention locked in completely.Watching.
Your ex’s gaze shifted to him, sizing him up and immediately, you saw it. That flash of judgment.
Of arrogance. “…So,” he said, dragging the word out, “this your boyfriend?”
Leon’s eyes flicked to you briefly,his hand moving to the table to show off the wedding band to the man.“Husband,” Leon corrected evenly.
Your ex blinked once, then laughed. “…Seriously?”
You felt embarrassment hit and Leon didn’t react and that almost made it worse.
Your ex shook his head, stepping a little closer, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “No offense, man,” he said, looking Leon up and down, “but… what are you doing with her?”
Your stomach twisted, your hand moved to your lap as you clutched your dress.
Leon’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t speak.
Your ex kept going. “I mean,look at you,” he continued, gesturing vaguely at Leon. “And then—”
His hand flicked toward you.Dismissive.Careless, just like when you two were dating, like you were something to be compared.Something to be judged. “…this?”
The word hit like a slap.
You felt it immediately the way your chest tightened, the way your shoulders instinctively curled inward, like you were trying to take up less space.
“Hey,” you said quietly, forcing a small, strained laugh. “That’s not—”
“And you’re still dressing her like that?” your ex went on, ignoring you completely now, talking about you instead of to you. “You could do a lot better, man. No offense.”
No offense.
You blinked hard, eyes stinging now, warmth crawling up your neck.You hated this.Hated how easily it still got to you.How small he made you feel.Your hands tightened in your lap as you looked down, trying, really trying, not to let it show.
Not to cry.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of him.
Leon hadn’t moved, hadn't spoken but his hand was clenched tightly at the table.Then he inhaled slowly.Worked his jaw once, twice and gave a small, almost absent nod.
“…Okay.” He whispered, calm and controlled.
Your ex smirked, like he thought he’d won something.Like Leon was just going to let it go and then Leon stood.
Fast.
The chair scraped sharply against the floor, loud enough to turn heads.And before your ex could even process what was happening, Leon’s fist connected with his face.
A clean, solid punch straight to the nose.
The crack was sickening as your ex stumbled back instantly, hands flying to his face as blood started pouring between his fingers.
“What the—!” he choked out, staggering.
The entire restaurant went silent, Leon didn’t chase him.Didn’t raise his voice.He just stood there, shoulders squared, breathing steady, eyes cold in a way that felt… dangerous.
“Don’t,” Leon said, voice low and even, “ever speak about my wife like that again.”
Your ex stared at him, shocked, humiliated, bleeding.
Leon didn’t look impressed, didn't look angry anymore, just done. "Or next time,” he added quietly, “I won’t stop at one.”
The message was crystal clear.
Your ex backed off quickly after that, muttering something under his breath as he stumbled away, grabbing napkins, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.
The room slowly started to breathe again, everyone turning back to their food and conversation.
But you, you were still sitting there frozen for a moment. Heart pounding in your chest, eyes wide still assessing the situation.
Leon turned back to you immediately and just like that that hardness was gone “Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer.
You blinked up at him, still trying to process everything, your emotions caught somewhere between shock and something else, something tighter in your chest. “…You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.
He frowned slightly, crouching down in front of you so you didn’t have to look up. “Yeah,” he said gently. “I did.”
Your lip trembled before you could stop it, all that embarrassment, all that hurt finally catching up now that it was quiet again.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, looking down. “That was...god, that was so embarrassing, I—”
“Hey.”
His hand came up immediately, tilting your chin so you had to look at him. There was nothing but warmth in his eyes now. “Don’t,” he said softly.
Your breath hitched, lip wobbled for a moment as you blinked away a few tears.
“He doesn’t get to make you feel like that,” Leon continued, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “Not anymore, he's wrong,” Leon added, quieter now, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “About everything he said.”
You swallowed. “…Leon—”
“I mean it.” His voice didn’t waver. “You’re the best thing in this room. Hell, the best thing in my life.”
Your chest tightened.
“And if anyone...anyone..talks about you like that again? They’re gonna have a bad day.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of you despite everything, tears finally spilling over but softer now as you reached for him, hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
“I love you,” you whispered.
He didn’t hesitate.“I know,” he murmured back, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you too."
The night air felt cooler when you stepped outside, the hum of the restaurant fading behind you as Leon’s hand settled firmly at the small of your back, guiding you down the steps.
You were still a little dazed, still replaying everything.
The look on your ex’s face. The sound of the punch. The way Leon had looked at you afterward soft, steady, like nothing else in the world mattered.
Your fingers curled lightly into the front of his jacket as you walked, grounding yourself.
Then the Flashing lights.
Blue and red.
You blinked, your steps slowing.
“…What?”
Leon didn’t stop walking.
Didn’t even hesitate.
But his hand pressed a little more securely against your back, steering you slightly to the side.
And that’s when you saw it.
Your ex.
Standing on the sidewalk.
With two officers.
Hands behind his back.
Very clearly being cuffed.
Your brain… lagged.
“…Is he…” you blinked again, squinting slightly like maybe you were seeing it wrong. “Is he being arrested?”
Leon opened the passenger door of the Porsche like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“Yup.”
You didn’t get in, you just stood there, staring as you watched the scene unfold. “…Leon..."
He glanced at you, one brow lifting slightly. “What?”
You pointed, actually pointed, toward the scene like that would somehow clarify things. “Did you—”
“I used my DSO connections and found out he had priors,” Leon said casually, like he was explaining the weather. “I sped it up.”
You stared at him, your mouth opened.Closed and opened again.
“You....sped it up?”
He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, leaning one arm against the top of the car door.
“He had a warrant,” he added. “Didn’t do anything that wasn’t already coming.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. "You punched him,” you said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“And then you....called in federal connections—”
“Didn’t even have to call,” he corrected lightly. “Sent a text.”
“…and now he’s getting arrested.”
Leon tilted his head slightly. “I mean, technically those are separate events.”
You stared at him like he had just said something completely unhinged. “…Leon.”
“What?”
“That is insane.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, reaching out to take your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was calming you down. “Relax,” he murmured. “Guy’s been skating by on stuff for a while. I just… helped things move along.”
Your eyes flicked back toward your ex, who was now very loudly protesting as the officers guided him toward the cruiser.And then slowly looked back at your husband. “…You punched him and got him arrested in under ten minutes.”
Leon’s mouth twitched. “…Busy night.”
You let out a disbelieving breath, shaking your head, but there was something bubbling up now—something lighter. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.
“Yeah,” he said easily, then his expression softened again, hand tightening gently around yours. “You okay?” he asked.
And just like that, the humor faded a little, replaced with something more honest.
You glanced back once more.
At your ex.
At the flashing lights.
At the past… literally being taken away.
Then you looked at Leon.
At the man standing in front of you like a wall, like a shield, like someone who had already decided—without question that no one was ever going to make you feel small again.
“…Yeah,” you said quietly.And this time, you meant it.
Leon studied your face for a second longer, like he was making sure.
Then he nodded once.
“Good.” He tugged you gently toward the car, guiding you into the passenger seat, one hand steady on the door as you sat. Before closing it, he leaned in slightly, brushing his knuckles along your cheek.
“Seatbelt,” he reminded.
You huffed softly, already reaching for it. “Yes, sir.”
He smirked faintly at that, shutting the door and moving around to the driver’s side.
The engine purred to life a moment later, smooth and quiet, the kind of sound that matched everything else about him now controlled, powerful, effortless.
You watched him for a second as he settled in, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the console. “…Leon?”
“Yeah?”
You hesitated.Then gave him a smile. “…thank you.”
He didn’t look at you right away. Just reached over, his hand finding your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Always,” he said.
And as he pulled away from the curb, the flashing lights fading behind you, it didn’t feel like you were leaving something unfinished.
The restaurant was warm, low-lit, the kind of place that felt expensive without trying too hard. Soft music hummed in the background, glasses clinked quietly, and the world felt… slow for once.
You sat across from Leon, fingers curled around your drink, smiling at something stupid he had just said.
He was relaxed, one arm draped over the back of his chair, suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled just enough to show strong forearms. His tie was already loosened because of course it was and his attention stayed exactly where it always did when you were together.
On you.
“—and then Chris looks at me like I’m the problem,” he finished, shaking his head.
You laughed softly, leaning forward. “You are the problem.”
“Wow,” he scoffed. “That’s crazy. I thought you were on my side.”
“I am,” you grinned. “I’m just also honest.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes soft, something fond flickering across his face as he looked at you and then it shifted. Just slightly,not enough for anyone else to notice.But you felt it.
You turned your head instinctively and your stomach dropped. “…Oh.”
Leon’s gaze followed yours immediately, posture straightening just a fraction.
“Friend of yours?” he asked, calm but already alert.
You swallowed. “No,” you said quietly. “Not… not really.”
Your ex was already walking over, because of course he was. Same smug expression. Same look in his eyes that you remembered hating even when you were with him.
“Wow,” he said as he approached, looking between the two of you. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
You forced a polite smile, already shrinking in on yourself just a little. “Hey.”
Leon didn’t say anything.Didn’t move.But his attention locked in completely.Watching.
Your ex’s gaze shifted to him, sizing him up and immediately, you saw it. That flash of judgment.
Of arrogance. “…So,” he said, dragging the word out, “this your boyfriend?”
Leon’s eyes flicked to you briefly,his hand moving to the table to show off the wedding band to the man.“Husband,” Leon corrected evenly.
Your ex blinked once, then laughed. “…Seriously?”
You felt embarrassment hit and Leon didn’t react and that almost made it worse.
Your ex shook his head, stepping a little closer, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “No offense, man,” he said, looking Leon up and down, “but… what are you doing with her?”
Your stomach twisted, your hand moved to your lap as you clutched your dress.
Leon’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t speak.
Your ex kept going. “I mean,look at you,” he continued, gesturing vaguely at Leon. “And then—”
His hand flicked toward you.Dismissive.Careless, just like when you two were dating, like you were something to be compared.Something to be judged. “…this?”
The word hit like a slap.
You felt it immediately the way your chest tightened, the way your shoulders instinctively curled inward, like you were trying to take up less space.
“Hey,” you said quietly, forcing a small, strained laugh. “That’s not—”
“And you’re still dressing her like that?” your ex went on, ignoring you completely now, talking about you instead of to you. “You could do a lot better, man. No offense.”
No offense.
You blinked hard, eyes stinging now, warmth crawling up your neck.You hated this.Hated how easily it still got to you.How small he made you feel.Your hands tightened in your lap as you looked down, trying, really trying, not to let it show.
Not to cry.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of him.
Leon hadn’t moved, hadn't spoken but his hand was clenched tightly at the table.Then he inhaled slowly.Worked his jaw once, twice and gave a small, almost absent nod.
“…Okay.” He whispered, calm and controlled.
Your ex smirked, like he thought he’d won something.Like Leon was just going to let it go and then Leon stood.
Fast.
The chair scraped sharply against the floor, loud enough to turn heads.And before your ex could even process what was happening, Leon’s fist connected with his face.
A clean, solid punch straight to the nose.
The crack was sickening as your ex stumbled back instantly, hands flying to his face as blood started pouring between his fingers.
“What the—!” he choked out, staggering.
The entire restaurant went silent, Leon didn’t chase him.Didn’t raise his voice.He just stood there, shoulders squared, breathing steady, eyes cold in a way that felt… dangerous.
“Don’t,” Leon said, voice low and even, “ever speak about my wife like that again.”
Your ex stared at him, shocked, humiliated, bleeding.
Leon didn’t look impressed, didn't look angry anymore, just done. "Or next time,” he added quietly, “I won’t stop at one.”
The message was crystal clear.
Your ex backed off quickly after that, muttering something under his breath as he stumbled away, grabbing napkins, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.
The room slowly started to breathe again, everyone turning back to their food and conversation.
But you, you were still sitting there frozen for a moment. Heart pounding in your chest, eyes wide still assessing the situation.
Leon turned back to you immediately and just like that that hardness was gone “Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer.
You blinked up at him, still trying to process everything, your emotions caught somewhere between shock and something else, something tighter in your chest. “…You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.
He frowned slightly, crouching down in front of you so you didn’t have to look up. “Yeah,” he said gently. “I did.”
Your lip trembled before you could stop it, all that embarrassment, all that hurt finally catching up now that it was quiet again.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, looking down. “That was...god, that was so embarrassing, I—”
“Hey.”
His hand came up immediately, tilting your chin so you had to look at him. There was nothing but warmth in his eyes now. “Don’t,” he said softly.
Your breath hitched, lip wobbled for a moment as you blinked away a few tears.
“He doesn’t get to make you feel like that,” Leon continued, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “Not anymore, he's wrong,” Leon added, quieter now, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “About everything he said.”
You swallowed. “…Leon—”
“I mean it.” His voice didn’t waver. “You’re the best thing in this room. Hell, the best thing in my life.”
Your chest tightened.
“And if anyone...anyone..talks about you like that again? They’re gonna have a bad day.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of you despite everything, tears finally spilling over but softer now as you reached for him, hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
“I love you,” you whispered.
He didn’t hesitate.“I know,” he murmured back, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you too."
The night air felt cooler when you stepped outside, the hum of the restaurant fading behind you as Leon’s hand settled firmly at the small of your back, guiding you down the steps.
You were still a little dazed, still replaying everything.
The look on your ex’s face. The sound of the punch. The way Leon had looked at you afterward soft, steady, like nothing else in the world mattered.
Your fingers curled lightly into the front of his jacket as you walked, grounding yourself.
Then the Flashing lights.
Blue and red.
You blinked, your steps slowing.
“…What?”
Leon didn’t stop walking.
Didn’t even hesitate.
But his hand pressed a little more securely against your back, steering you slightly to the side.
And that’s when you saw it.
Your ex.
Standing on the sidewalk.
With two officers.
Hands behind his back.
Very clearly being cuffed.
Your brain… lagged.
“…Is he…” you blinked again, squinting slightly like maybe you were seeing it wrong. “Is he being arrested?”
Leon opened the passenger door of the Porsche like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“Yup.”
You didn’t get in, you just stood there, staring as you watched the scene unfold. “…Leon..."
He glanced at you, one brow lifting slightly. “What?”
You pointed, actually pointed, toward the scene like that would somehow clarify things. “Did you—”
“I used my DSO connections and found out he had priors,” Leon said casually, like he was explaining the weather. “I sped it up.”
You stared at him, your mouth opened.Closed and opened again.
“You....sped it up?”
He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal, leaning one arm against the top of the car door.
“He had a warrant,” he added. “Didn’t do anything that wasn’t already coming.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. "You punched him,” you said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“And then you....called in federal connections—”
“Didn’t even have to call,” he corrected lightly. “Sent a text.”
“…and now he’s getting arrested.”
Leon tilted his head slightly. “I mean, technically those are separate events.”
You stared at him like he had just said something completely unhinged. “…Leon.”
“What?”
“That is insane.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, reaching out to take your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was calming you down. “Relax,” he murmured. “Guy’s been skating by on stuff for a while. I just… helped things move along.”
Your eyes flicked back toward your ex, who was now very loudly protesting as the officers guided him toward the cruiser.And then slowly looked back at your husband. “…You punched him and got him arrested in under ten minutes.”
Leon’s mouth twitched. “…Busy night.”
You let out a disbelieving breath, shaking your head, but there was something bubbling up now—something lighter. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.
“Yeah,” he said easily, then his expression softened again, hand tightening gently around yours. “You okay?” he asked.
And just like that, the humor faded a little, replaced with something more honest.
You glanced back once more.
At your ex.
At the flashing lights.
At the past… literally being taken away.
Then you looked at Leon.
At the man standing in front of you like a wall, like a shield, like someone who had already decided—without question that no one was ever going to make you feel small again.
“…Yeah,” you said quietly.And this time, you meant it.
Leon studied your face for a second longer, like he was making sure.
Then he nodded once.
“Good.” He tugged you gently toward the car, guiding you into the passenger seat, one hand steady on the door as you sat. Before closing it, he leaned in slightly, brushing his knuckles along your cheek.
“Seatbelt,” he reminded.
You huffed softly, already reaching for it. “Yes, sir.”
He smirked faintly at that, shutting the door and moving around to the driver’s side.
The engine purred to life a moment later, smooth and quiet, the kind of sound that matched everything else about him now controlled, powerful, effortless.
You watched him for a second as he settled in, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the console. “…Leon?”
“Yeah?”
You hesitated.Then gave him a smile. “…thank you.”
He didn’t look at you right away. Just reached over, his hand finding your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Always,” he said.
And as he pulled away from the curb, the flashing lights fading behind you, it didn’t feel like you were leaving something unfinished.
ৎ°․ i was made for lovin' you! - bob reynolds x reader: dating hc's
✮⋆˙ criminal minds
ৎ°․ friday i'm in love! - spencer reid x fem!reader: dating hc's
✮⋆˙ now you see me
ৎ°․ when did you get hot? - jack wilder x fem!reader
୨ৎ summary: you can't quite put your finger on it, but why does your best friend look REALLY hot now...
ৎ°․ jealousy, jealousy. - jack wilder x fem!reader
୨ৎ summary: you're not even dating jack wilder, so why are you so horribly jealous when he flirts with someone else? (you're not the only one who gets jealous)
ৎ°․ spiderboy, king of thieves - spiderman!jack wilder x fem!reader
୨ৎ summary: your boyfriend, jack wilder, has a couple more secrets up his sleeves than you originally thought.
ৎ°․ i wanna be yours - jack wilder x fem!horsemen!reader - smau
୨ৎ summary: the adventures of you and your boyfriend jack wilder during their shows!
ৎ°․ is it new years yet? - jack wilder x fem!horsemen!reader
୨ৎ summary: you and jack didn't end well, but neither of you walked away without regrets. now, you both have to face the consequences at a new years party.
ৎ°․ i'll keep you my dirty little secret - bosco leroy x fem!horsemen!reader - smau
୨ৎ summary: what could possibly go wrong when trying to soft-launch your relationship with bosco leroy?
ৎ°․ ruin the friendship - bosco leroy x fem!horsemen!reader
୨ৎ summary: somehow it only took a night for you and bosco to absolutely wreck the friendship, but maybe things aren't so bad?
