โโดโ๏ธ | one night stand with Rafayel who can't take a hint
Somewhere between too many sangrias, a lot of dirty dancing and groping, you'd ended up in the back of a cab with Rafayel, eating each other's faces off and barely toeing the line between propriety and public indecency.
Rafayel is so lost in the softness of your lips, the heavenly moans that escape you and only beckon him closer that he doesn't even realize he's handed the driver a hundred instead of a twenty, asking him to keep the change as he carries you into your building.
"What's your name?" You manage between kisses as the railing of the staircase digs into your back while he bends you over it, teething at your throat while his thigh rubs between your legs.
You can feel his smile against your skin as he hikes you up higher on his thigh, licking the skin he'd just broken in "Didn't your parents warn you about strangers?"
"Didn't your parents warn you about serial killers?" You shoot back and it's gratifying to make a man as beautiful as he was to laugh as pretty as he did.
"Let's just say-" He's whispering right above your lips as his luminescent eyes search yours "I have no self preservation. Especially not against a woman as beautiful as you"
You both stumble through the door, hands tearing at his jacket and your coat as he drives you up the wood, holding your weight against the surface as his tongue plunges into your mouth again.
The bedroom is preferable but the couch is closer and you both try to make a fair attempt to reach it except Rafayel's already got two fingers breaching the waistband of your panties, teasing your soaking folds as you pant into his mouth "Right there?"
You nod, a whimper lodged in the back of your throat as he plunges the fingers into your waiting warmth, groaning when he feels just how wet you are for him. Curving his fingers, he's pumping them against that sweet spot that makes you moan, your head banging into the door behind you.
When he's made you cum so hard that you're still recovering from the aftermath, he's leaving kisses against your skin, rubbing his thigh between your legs again, breaking a whine out of you from how sensitive you were "Uh oh" He whispers, pulling your dress low enough to free your breasts, covering one with his mouth "Stranger danger"
Despite yourself, you laugh but it dies a short death when he pulls at your nipple making you moan, wrapping your legs tighter around his trim waist and lining yourself directly with his very prominent erection. He groans, biting down on your areola making you squeal as he pulls you away from the door and carries you to the couch.
For a man who looked so pretty and delicate, he was surprisingly strong and freakishly well-endowed if what you felt between your legs as you grind against him was any indication. And when Rafayel pushes your skirt up, lining himself behind you, you're suddenly apprehensive about how he'll make it fit.
"You're here to kill me after all" He groans as your walls flutter around his length to accommodate his size, screaming into the pillow as you arch your back to take him even better.
One moment you remember him thrusting into you so hard the couch is moving and screeching against the wood, the next you're in your bed with your knees folded till your chest as he moves above you, cooing at you as tears escape your eyes at the overstimulation. He's licking the tearstreaks, grunting right next to your ear as your walls squeeze and tighten around him with every drawn out thrust.
"I've got you" He's nodding, forehead pressed to yours as your mouth hangs agape while you chase that peak, tears free flowing while he brushes against that spongey spot with every thrust, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way "I've got you, pretty. Why don't you let go for me, hm?"
You're nodding too, broken whimpers escaping as your legs quake uncontrollably before you're gushing around him. Rafayel's right behind you, growling into your skin as his thrusts grow more desperate, fucking relentlessly into your swollen pussy and pumping you full of his cum.
Last thing you remember is kissing this gorgeous stranger who had eyes that sparkled so beautiful in the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"You're even more beautiful in daylight"
Nodding, you're picking up the clothes strewn on the floor, tossing the ones that belonged to him at his relaxed figure still lounging in your bed.
You'd woken up and made love to this man in bed before the sun had come up and then again in the shower just now but while you looked like anymore action would require you to get an IV drip, not only did this man have the stamina of a God, his skin glowed like it too? What the hell was his skincare routine?
"I'm Rafayel" He goes on and you shoot him a non-plussed look over your shoulder because of course a man who looked like that and fucked like he did couldn't be named something regular like Bob or Peter. Rafayel. He was such a Rafayel.
You know he's waiting for your name but you have no interest in giving it to him. Yesterday had been a celebration and while you were brazen enough to sleep with strangers and not truly commit, you weren't in the business of hoarding the strangers for long-term relationships.
Instead, you disappear into your closet to pick out your work clothes. You had to swing by the office before an important work lunch in the afternoon and if you successfully closed the deal, last night's celebration would not be in vain.
When you step out, Rafayel has thankfully taken the hint and gotten dressed too. He follows your cue and exits the bedroom behind you, still doing his best to get you to acknowledge his existence. Or help him be privy to yours.
Picking up his jacket that was still lying by the door, you hand it to him and open the door. Your declaration despite not using any words is crystal clear. Rafayel would love nothing more than take you out for breakfast, bring you home and do a full repeat of last night but you want to set clear boundaries of remaining strangers and he wants to respect that.
Or atleast try to.
He steps out but he's still in the doorway, preventing you from closing the door completely as he stares at you for a moment too long, gaze dropping to your lips before he's looking at you again "I don't even know your name"
"It's not worth remembering" You step back, hoping he will too but he's still got that kicked puppy look in his eyes that almost- almost melts your resolve.
"I'll remember it" He promises "Want to make you forget it next time we do this. Probably have you scream mine"
He's gonna wear you down at this rate and you know it. So you put that final nail in the coffin "Goodbye, Rafayel"
When you close the door behind you, you wonder if you should've at least told him you'd had a good time. Great time, even. Okay, you weren't kidding anyone. He'd shown you the most spectacular time and you'd wanted nothing more than to do it again too.
As you checked your day's to-do, you realized you didn't really have the time to.
Rafayel sent flowers to your apartment before you even left that morning. How he managed to do that in the span of the twenty minutes it had taken between you throwing him out and leaving for work, you didn't know. Still, he was an observant man too, if he had managed to deduce from the incense burning in your apartment that your favorite flowers were orchids.
As an art curator, you'd had your fair share of bizarre interactions. This definitely ranked in the top 3.
The flowers are still on your mind when you reach the restaurant where you're having your lunch meeting. Your friend's husband, Thomas, had wanted to introduce you to someone he'd described as simply phenomenal. For someone always looking for new talent, you'd easily agreed.
Your brows furrowed and lips lifted in a sardonic smile when you noticed the name on the card he'd given you. Rafayel. It was as if you simply couldn't escape that name today.
Or him, when the waitress showed you to the table where he was already seated next to Thomas, looking refined in his three piece suit and smiling at what you're sure he found to be a pleasant turn of events.
I have a headcanon that the Skittles and Twizzlers on board The Hail Mary were put there per Carl's request.
Just the mental image of Carl watching Grace get transported after being sedated. A man, who prior to that moment, his most vivid memory consists of them finding world changing discoveries with plywood, duck tape, and copious amounts of sour skittles. A man who he associates with the exhilarating feeling of wonder and life. A teacher teaching, a scientist finding, a man living.
But suddenly, that's not his most vivid memory. Suddenly, what first comes to mind when he thinks of Dr. Ryland Grace is the image of him running away, of chasing him through the compound, of the look on his face when they do inevitably catch up to him. He can't hear the excited laughter of the previous memories without them eliciting the desperate pleas for life.
I wonder if he ever gets to see the videos. How would he feel if he knew that his name was the first one that Grace remembers. Foggy like the thing he misses most about earth.
Genuinely, can't stop thinking about how his name is Carl, like the fog that covers San Francisco is named Karl, and Grace misses the fog. I'm gonna be ill.
There's a serious lack of Rafayel being a bit mean while throat fucking reader, reader of course swallowing it all.
I dunno your feelings on this but there's also a severe lack of Rafayel being called Daddy.
If possible, can we mash those two things together?
I mean if not the throat fucking alone is
A delicious thing.
Delicious!!!! Well done anon. Rest easy I am one of the few who has a very shameless daddy kink so we are good to go over here!
This installment of mean Rafayel is brought to you by the version of him that embodies this personality: Catch 22's Tamino! Kisses. Enjoy this mini meal. Zero plot. Straight porn. That's what you came for at the end of the day. I know you! That being said please be gentle, blowjobs aren't necessarily my strength but I tried my best to give you the experience.
So: catch 22 Praedator Rafayel x Special Enforcer Reader/MC
We got deep throating, im not sure how much degradation your sensibilities can handle soโฆ split the diff???(I like being on the safe side so I chose milder, i use the word slut just once) But we have that too and your daddy request. Enjoy your meal โค๏ธ
Career Development programme
An array of city lights dance across your flushed skin as they filter in from the window into the darkened kitchen of your modest apartment. The city is a restless beast mired in constant unrest. A civilisation on the brink ever since the virus broke out and lawlessness infiltrated every exposed crack until peace was a fantasy told to frightened children as comforting bedtime stories to make it through another uncertain night.
While everyone else had the sense to barr their doors and sharpen their knives, you instead had invited that danger right into your house. Watched it sleep between your sheets and enjoy your honeydew yoghurt drinks like a domesticated cat pampered by an over indulgent owner.
Yes. That was the right term. You overindulged Rafayel. In ways that guarantee the LCBI would throw you in a cold prison for and brand you enemy of the state without thinking twice if they ever found out. But that was part of the thrill wasn't it?
This unimaginable euphoria of being on your knees for him, the cold and hard tile biting unkindly into the sensitive skin of your knees and him looming above you, his face sharp predatory angles and devastatingly gorgeous against the moving lights from out there that reflect into this usually suffocating space.
Even from below you look deep into his eyes, shining with hunger and a sliver of calculation despite his state, then all rolled up into a neat little ball of obsession that even that usually unreadable gaze can never quite hide. From up there he watches you with a deep intensity, as if memorising your face over and over again, a lazy smile plastered on his face from seeing you so full of his cock.
โYou're so eager Miss Enforcer. Tell me, is this what your spineless higher ups had in mind whenโฆ. Ahhhโฆ when they told you to supervise?โ the muscles on his sculpted and tattooed abdomen convulse while his cock twitches inside your wet hot mouth when you swipe your tongue on the underside of his shaft.
You shake your head no, attempting to swallow more of him down your eager throat but Rafayel stops you with by pulling back your hair that he has wrapped around his fist in an iron grip.
You whine in protest, especially when he withdraws entirely, leaving just a string of saliva between your lips and his tip.
โPleaseโฆ pleaseโฆโ you beg him, breathless and your blood heated with unbridled lust. Your pussy throbs with so much need that you find yourself rocking your poor hips against nothing and Rafayel chuckles.
โSo fucking desperate too. Tell me cutie? Who is the pet here between us?โ
โMe. Im the pet,โ you quickly respond, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a mind that can't be motivated to hold onto any form of reason or dignity.
He does this night after night. Finding new ways that have you debasing yourself willingly because you crave him on a level you never knew was possible. This person, no, thing, this thing that no sane human should want this way. You ought to sleep with one eye open, yet you invite him to burn through the night with you. You can't stop. Ever. Not when you know what he feels like. His too sharp teeth sink into his plush lips as he cants his hips to your sinful rhythm, moaning and panting from the pleasure you give to him.
Your whole body shudders and you can feel more arousal leak out of you and make your already messy panties cling to your puffy, aching cunt. He reaches out and very gently runs his index finger down the side of your face before gripping your jaw firmly and tilting your head back to get a better look at your face. His erection hovers over your face, taunting your now empty mouth with its missing heat.
You gasp in surprise as he holds you in place, his grip biting into your soft skin.
โBeg me then. Say it.โ
โPlease.โ you whisper, your eyes pleading with him. Rafayelโs pupils go black and the pink bottom part of his iris is a crimson slit that reminds you of snake eyes. You should be terrified but your body has other plans, your inner walls clenching with desire.
โPlease what?โ he almost growls from how deep and husky his voice has gotten.
โPleaseโฆ let me suck your cock,โ
โNo cutie. Try again. Do it properly,โ
โPlease daddy. I'll be so good. Please use my mouthโฆโ
โJust your mouth?โ
โAndโฆ my body. Anything you want daddy. I'll do it. Please.โ
A dark laugh rings out the entire kitchen.
โYou're so pathetic. It's cute really. Open up? Miss Enforcer,โ
He leans back against the counter and you reach for him, smacking the tip against your tongue before closing your lips around it and sucking.
He growls low and a little inhuman, it makes electricity slither down your spine, and your hand finds your stiff nipple giving it a firm pinch.
โGood. Play with your body for me cutie. But if you lose focus you won't get off tonight, yeah? That will be your punishment,โ
Mean. He is always so mean. Youโre hopelessly addicted to him. His teasing words and his stupid cock that leaves you drunk in seconds.
Yet, you still do as he says, shoving your hand between your legs and moving aside your drenched underwear.
Your tongue slowly twirls from the tip down the shaft and traces every vein. You hear his breath catch when you get to the base and graze your teeth lightly. When you look up at him through his lashes, satisfaction settles over you from seeing him gripping the edge of the counter so hard that it almost gives way under his supernatural strength.
Once he gets like this, he gives control over to you to make sure his own strength doesn't overtake him and he accidentally hurts you for real.
Your fingers find your swollen clit and start rubbing slow firm circles that have you moaning around him loudly.
โMmmโฆ Deep breath,โ he says huskily and when you inhale, he pushes further in and slips into your throat pumping at a pace that matches the one you're masturbating to.
โTake it,โ he groans when you start to struggle around him almost gagging from effort of letting him fuck your throat .
Tears pricked and water your eyelashes and he wipes them off with a thumb.
โAlmost there cutieโฆโ
When your body jolts hard from struggling he pulls all the way out, letting you take huge gulps of air.
He starts pumping himself in lazy strokes, rubbing his head all over your glistening lips and chin while eatching the hand between your legs.
โTouch yourself faster.โ
You start to tremble slightly from the rougher pace and constant friction.
โImagine what the Bureau would think, if they knew you've been playing slut for your predaetor โpetโ,โ he says darkly, his smirk growing wider when he notices your body react. Your eyes can't help roll back at that taunt.
โYou're gonna come for me right?โ
You nod your head frantically.
โOpen that mouth then,โ
Hot cum spurts in waves on your tongue the same time as your orgasm hits and he holds you in place by gripping the back of your neck. There's no need for him to tell you what to do next, you swallow his release and stick your tongue out proudly.
The aftermath is just your ragged breaths and the sirens wailing a distance away.
Rafayel wipes the corner of your lips.
โYou weren't entirely useless tonight Miss Enforcer.โ His tone carries something almost akin to affection.
Your knees finally find relief as he picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He carries you out the kitchen towards the couch in the living room.
โIt's time for your reward, cutie. Since you were such a good girl in there, you can sit on my cock tonight. Doesn't that sound nice?โ
โYes, daddy. It sounds so nice,โ you murmur as you melt into his hold, tucking your head against the crook of his neck.
Imagine if, after your routine check up, Zayne scolds you for your eating habits and urges you to add more greens to your diet. Life as a hunter can get hectic sometimes so it's a lot easier to grab a quick protein bar than to cook a well balanced meal, but you want to at least try! So that's how Zayne finds you in the kitchen after his shift, staring at a bag of kale with a determined look on your face. How cute, he smiles to himself. You're listening to his advice and he couldn't be more proud.
"My love? What are you doing?"
"Zaynie, welcome home!"
"Cooking dinner?"
"Nope! But it's dinosaur time!"
"Pardon?"
He gets his answer from you unsealing the bag and immediately shoving a fistful of leafy greens to your mouth. For a moment, he's frozen still, watching the love of his life "dinosaur-ing" it in their kitchen. You catch his face in the corner of your eye and start laughing at his expression, before promptly eating shit when your laughter turns into coughing, then choking on your vegetables.
Zayne immediately bans dinosaur time after tonight.
โmm.โ sylus practically growls into the column of your neck, nose buried so impossibly deep into your skin it begins to tickle.
โsylus,โ you groan. any effort made in pushing him away is futile. heโs latched onto you like a vine, twisted and coiled around the crevices of his favorite lattice. โsyโ.โ
โsmell so good.โ he murmurs. mostly to himself, like heโd devoured something so delectable his tongue refuses to keep it a secret. itโs almost painful, the way he asks, โwhat have you done?โ
you laugh, his senses explode. the smell, and now the sound of youโ heโs afraid of rapture the moment he looks up at you. too much, too good to be real.
โnew perfume?โ you giggle as he sniffs you some more, more creature than husband at this point. you swear a purr rumbles in his chest. โi saw it in the store, the packaging reminded me of you.โ
you look silly. fond but nonchalantly standing there and letting your husband inhale your scent like a bloodhound.
his voice shakes the earth when he inquires, โpackaging?โ
โit was all dark and red like a gemstone,โ you lift your chin to avoid hitting the top of his head when he moves around you and nuzzles into your throat. โwith the teeniest little dragon wrapped around it.โ
โwhatโs it called?โ
โuh.โ you look up, digging through recent receipts and credit card statements. โdragonโฆโ
he draws in another breath of you.
โfireโฆโ you gasp when he nips at your skin with his teeth, unable to hold back any longer. โโฆkiss?โ
he freezes, then chuckles. โah.โ
โah?โ you frown when he lifts his head. his lips land on your hair. โwhat do you mean, ah?โ
โah, this makes sense.โ he grins, planting more possessive pecks onto your forehead. even up here your sweet scent drives him into a frenzy. โhow much did you get it for?โ
you purse your lips and suddenly youโre bashful. never once in your relationship has he asked you about prices, having said at the very beginning that it would take decades for you to even make a dent into his fortune no matter how much you consume.
it shouldnโt be a point of shame either, because he actively asks you to use his card for anything you might need. yet, confronted with it nowโฆ itโs harder to admit that youโd thought a luxurious bottle justified such a price for a few drops of product.
and like he reads each thought you just had, he bends to kiss your lips gently, to coax you out of the spell. โi donโt mean to pry.โ
โi think i spent too much.โ
โno,โ he drawls, utterly entertained by you. โnot at all, sweetie.โ
you pout. โthen, whyโฆ?โ
โyou donโt have to buy this again,โ heโs like a bird, pecking at the skin of your blushing face with butterfly kisses.
you open your mouthโ to bite, to complain, to express the frustrating confusion heโs wringing you into.
he barely gives you a chance to when he presses a lingering and most tender kiss on your mouth. leaving no room for argument or doubt. โi own the brand, after all.โ
My reaction when Gege carried me through this SHC. Struggled a lot, boosted almost all my Caleb cards to lvl 70 and even pushed a few open orbit levels.
"THE COLONELS OBSESSION" Your thumb hovers over the screen. Your coffee's gone lukewarm. Jesus, who writes this stuff?
You don't scroll away. Rain keeps drumming that same dull pattern against glass, and your apartment feels too quiet, too empty without Caleb filling it with the weight of his presence. Seven days. He'd said it like he wasย sorry, standing in your doorway, uniform jacket slung over one arm, violet eyes doing that thing where they searched your face for any trace of disappointment.
The story keeps bleeding down your screen. Cheap. But your breath catches anyway when you get to the part about fisting hands in hair. Because Caleb does that. Not rough, not at first, just absent. Like he forgets himself. Like touching you is oxygen and he keeps checking you're still there, still breathing with him.
You move a bit, knees drawn up, and your phone casts this blue glow that makes your apartment look like it's underwater.
The narrator's voice loops in your head, like a low murmur selling something manufactured. But there's a grain of something true buried in that cheap novel, something about watching someone unravel for you alone. Someone so obsessed they would kill for you.
Caleb in the kitchen at 3 AM, still in uniform, peeling an apple with surgical precision while he explained why he'd had to break a man's fingers for getting too close to your door. The apple skin curling in one unbroken spiral. His hands steady as stone.
You exit the tab. Open it again. Your battery's at 12% and it's 5:03 am. You should get a bit more sleep. But the word "sleep" feels like a foreign concept. How are you supposed to sleep in a bed that smells like him? On a pillow that bears the impression of his head, the way his hair tickles your cheek in the morning? How can you sleep when he's out there, drowning in a sea of stars and secrets?
You blink hard, shaking your head. This is all so...filthy. Like a bad porno. But your face feels hot, and you can't look away. Can't stop reading. Because it's not just the dirty words on the page anymore.
It's him. Caleb. In your mind, you see him there, violet eyes darkening to indigo. Strong hands fisting in your hair, not too rough, not yet, but with tension coiled in those fingers. A tension you've felt before.
You remember the sound he makes when you take him deep inside your mouthโlike the female lead in this novel just did โa groan, but low and rough, almost a growl. Like it hurts him, like it's too much.
You read the line twice. Three times. Your mouth's gone dry despite the coffee.
Chapter 12 describes the Colonel pinning wrists to wall and your stomach turns over slow, inevitable. Because he's done that too. Not in some staged choreography, but coming home blood dry and shaking, his whole body humming at some frequency that made the air taste metallic. Finding you in the kitchen. No words, just his forehead dropping to yours, his hands finding your hips with too much pressure but never enough.ย I saw something today. I needโย and his mouth cutting off whatever he'd been about to confess.
The story keeps going.
But your mind's elsewhere. Caleb's weight pinning you to the mattress last Tuesday, his real hand, warm and calloused, tangled in your hair while the cybernetic one braced against the headboard. The way his breath hitched when hisย rankย slipped out by accident,ย Colonelโand how his hips stuttered, his thumb finding your chin, tilting your head back.ย
Careful,ย you can't say that out loud.ย Voice scraped raw. Maybe he'd been thinking of the ears listening in the dark, the eyes watching from the shadows. Maybe he'd been warning you, and himself, of the lines that couldn't be uncrossed once they were stepped over.
You swallow, trying to ignore the ache building between your legs. The story's words echo in your head, filthy and vivid. Caleb in his uniform, hands fisted in your hair, his hips rocking forward, his thick cock pressing against your tongueโ
Taking a shuddering breath you try to push away your dirty thoughts. There's work to do, a case to solve, and you can't afford to lose yourself in fantasy, no matter how good. Caleb would want you focused, sharp, at the top of your game.
You stand, robe falling open to reveal your bare thighs, the cool air a shock against the hot heat of your skin. You need a cold shower. Something to keep your mind occupied until you can see him again. Until you can taste him, touch him, feel him.
Stop.ย You close your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow. Counting backwards from ten. Caleb's not here. He's out there, somewhere in the inky black of space, battling God knows what, risking God knows what. And he's doing it for you. Because of you.
You take another deep breath and head for the bathroom, determined to wash away the lingering heat of your lust and start your day. Tonight, you'll sleep alone again. Tonight, you'll dream of him again.ย 3 more days until you see him again.
The cursor blinks on your screen. You've uploaded twelve files. Thirteen. 12 spreadsheet and a mission briefing.
Your finger hovers over your shared folder icon. The story's there. It's the same folder where you keep your joint grocery lists, your travel itineraries, and the occasional sweet note to each other.
He'll think it's deliberate. He'll think I left it for him.
You delete it. Watch it vanish. The folder looks the sameโbananas, milk, that photo from the carnivalโbut you feel the ghost of it, data traces, digital residue. Nothing's ever really gone.
Your phone stays silent on the desk. No vibration. Noย CALEB CALLINGย switching mid ring to his face, a grainy photo where he's squinting against too bright sun, mock saluting the camera.
"He's busy," you say aloud, and your voice sounds thin, unconvinced.ย If he had seen it, he would have definitely called by now. Life answers with its usual hum, refrigerator, traffic four floors down, rain that's started again without you noticing.
You wonder what he's doing right now. Is he thinking about you too? Does he miss you as much as you miss him? You get a sudden urge to call him, to hear his voice, but you know he's busy. He has important work to do.
Instead, you close your eyes, trying to picture his face. His strong jaw, his eyes, the way his hair falls across his forehead when he's concentrating. The memory makes your heart ache with longing.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of meetings and deadlines, your mind only half focused on your work.
You stumble through your front door, arms laden down with heavy plastic bags cutting into your fingers. The apartment's dark, shadows stretching out to swallow you whole as you kick the door shut behind you.
"Shit," you hiss under your breath, juggling the bags to flick on the kitchen lights.
"I should've just moved the damn file," you mutter, dumping a jar of sauce on the shelf. "Now I'll never find out how that story ends."
When you finish putting away the last of the frozen pizzas, you pick up your phone. Your fingers hover over Caleb's contact information for a moment before you press the call button, bringing the phone to your ear.
You nearly drop the phone in shock when you hear the loud, familiar ringtone echo through your darkened living room. The screen lights up with his name, still ringing, still ringing, while the real thing sits there in the dark like a goddamn ghost.
He doesnโt move. Just watches you from the armchair, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. He's wearing his uniform, a couple of buttons of his shirt undone . His fingers tap once against the armrestโthunkโlike heโs counting the seconds until you speak.
You swallow. The air smells like rain and gun oil.
โYouโre not at workโ you say, stupidly.
His lips twitch. Not quite a smile. โNo.โ
The phone stops ringing. The silence that follows is worse.
He tilts his head, just slightly. The movementโs too controlled, too precise, like heโs holding himself back from something.
You open your mouth. Close it.
His thumb presses against his lower lip "You were talking to yourself about a story?"
The blood drains from your face.
He stands. One step. Two. You don't move, until you feel his fingers brushing your wrist before curling around it, gentle, but unmistakablyย there. โThe one you deletedโ
Itโs not a question.
You should lie. You should sayย what story?ย You should...
โYeah,โ you breathe.
His grip tightens. Just a fraction. โWhy?โ
Because I was afraid youโd think I wanted someone else. Because I was afraid youโd see it andย laugh. Because I was afraid youโd see it andย not laugh.
You donโt say any of that.
His thumb traces the inside of your wrist, slow circles that make your pulse jump. โYou know what I think?โ
You shake your head.
He leans in. His breath is warm against your ear. โI think youย wantedย me to see it.โ
Your knees nearly give out.
His free hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. โI think you wanted me toย know.โ
The storyโs words flash behind your eyesโColonel, I need youโand suddenly, youโre not sure which is worse, him knowing, or himย guessing.
"I read it," he says softly. Too softly. "I read every filthy word. And I thought..." His other hand finds your hip "I thought to myself, what a naughty little thing my Pipsqueak is. Leaving a story like that for me to find."
His mouth is at your throat, lips brushing your pulse point "Did you mean for me to see it? Did you want me to know what dirty thoughts my girl has about me? About my uniform?"
"Caleb, Iโ"
He catches your jaw, thumb digging into the hinge, forcing your mouth shut mid apology.
"Colonel," he corrects, and the word lands different in his mouth than yours. In the story it was theater, a script. Here it's his voice gone thin and strange, stripped of the brightness he uses in grocery stores, in morning light. "Say it."
Your throat clicks when you swallow. "Colonel, I didn't want you to thinkโ"
"What?" His head tilts, birdlike, predatory. "That you were thinking about me? That you were alone in this apartment,ย needingย something you can't name?"
The hand on your jaw slides down, thumb pressing hard beneath your chin. He's breathing fast too, you realize. The mock calm is cracking around the edges.
"Look at me."
You do. And then, you don't mean to, your eyes justย slip, dragged down by some magnetic pull you can't control, and...
"Oh."
It's not a word, just air leaving your lungs wrong.
His zipper is half undone and that outline. Jesus.ย The story had used words likeย proudย andย thick, but this...this is him. The fabric straining. The shape of the head pushing against cotton, darkened where he's already leaking. You can see the ridge of his vein through the thin material.
Your mouth waters. Shameful.
Caleb watches your face. watches your eyes land where they shouldn't. watches the way your lips part. He inhales, sharp. "Is that what you want?"
Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips. A reflex. A betrayal.
The bulge in his pants flexes as he shifts, his thumb pushing your chin up, tilting your face to his. "Because you're looking at it like you want to put your mouth on it."
Your shirt suddenly feels too tight. The fabric drags against you with every breath, friction where there shouldn't be, and you realize with distant embarrassment that your nipples have gone hard against the cotton.
"Colonel," you manage, and your voice comes out wrecked, nothing like the story'sย breathy whispers. You sound like you've been running. Like something's chasing you. "Your...your pants."
He looks down at himself like he's forgotten. Like his own hard on is an inconvenience, a tactical distraction. When his eyes lift back to yours, something's shifted.
"Did the story do this?" you ask, but it comes out like an accusation. Like you're blaming him. "Did it make youโ"
"Kneel."
The word hits your sternum like a palm strike. You go down hard, the cold floor biting into your skin. You'reย below, looking up, neck craned back.
His hand finds your hair again.
"Respect," he says, but his voice cracks on the second syllable. "Show some respect to the Farspace Fleet Colonel."
You open your mouth to apologize but the words dissolve when you see it up close, the damp spot is darker now, a small circle of moisture that tells you exactly how much heโs been thinking about this too.
"Forgive me," you whisper, the words catching on the dry heat of your throat. "I didn't mean...to be disrespectful."
You're looking up at him through your lashes, trying to find that innocent girl in the story look, but your heart is hammering so hard against your ribs it feels like it might bruise. You're playing a part, but the part is starting to feel a lot too real. "Tell me how to make it up to you," you add, your voice dropping to a low unsteady thing. "How can I serve you, Colonel?"
Caleb doesn't answer with words. He just looks up at the ceiling, his neck veins standing out like cords, his jaw tight enough to crack bone.
Then, he moves.
Thereโs no grace. Itโs a sudden, blunt motion. His hands grab the waistband of his pants and shoves them down. Not gently. He's peeling the fabric away from his skin like heโs tearing off a second skin. His boxers follow, a frantic, messy slide of cotton over hips.
And then he's there.
He's massive, the head a deep, angry pink, slick and swollen. He looks heavy. He looks real.
You don't think. If you think, you'll stop. If you think, you'll realize how crazy this is.
So you lunge forward.
Your tongue darts out in a desperate, instinctive reflex, catching the bead of precum at the very tip. Itโs hot and salty. Itโs the taste of him.
You don't wait for permission. You can't. You part your lips, your mouth opening wide, and you take him. He's big enough to stretch the skin around your lips, filling the space in your mouth until you're forced to tilt your head back just to accommodate the thick girth of him.
A groan rips from his throat as you slide down his length, he smells like cedar and the sharp, musky scent of a man on the verge of losing his mind.
His fingers tangle in your hair when you force yourself to take more, to sink deeper until your eyes water.
Then, the world jerks.
He yanks your head back so sharply you let out a muffled gasp, pulling you off him. A silver thread of saliva stretches from your bottom lip to the swollen head of his cock, shimmering in the dim light before it snaps, splattering against your chin.
Youโre dazed, your eyes watering, and then you see his face. He isn't smiling. He looksย dangerous.
"Who told you that you could do that?" his voice drops into that low monotone edge of madness. His hand clamps onto your hair, forcing your chin up, forcing you to keep looking at him. "Who asked you could take charge?"
He leans down, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, smearing the moisture you just made.
"Apologize," he commands "Apologize for being so greedy. For forgetting your place."
He pushes the thumb deeper, forcing your mouth open. You don't even even think to be offended. You just want to please him. You part your lips, your tongue curling around his finger, swirling around it while looking up at him with a gaze that isn't just submissive, it's a dare. A quiet, shimmering challenge that says,ย Is this enough to break you?
Your free hand wanders. It's a risk, touching him without permission, but you can't resist the chance to feel him pulsing in your hand, to remind yourself of how much you've affected him. You wrap your palm around the base, squeezing just enough to feel the frantic thrum of his heartbeat beneath the skin. You stroke him, a slow, teasing drag of your hand that makes the muscles in his thighs twitch.
He makes a sound, a low vibration that starts deep in his chest and ends in a growl.
Before you can even gasp, his hands are under your armpits. He hauls you up with a sudden, terrifying strength and carries you toward the couch. He doesn't set you down, heย dropsย you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle his hips.
The impact is electric. Your soaked panties, damp and clinging, are crushed directly against the naked, throbbing heat of him. The friction is sudden and blunt, a jolt of wet, heavy pressure that makes your spine arch and a small, broken sound escape your throat.
He settles back into the cushions, his hands gripping your waist like heโs afraid youโll bolt.
"The uniform stays on"
"Yes, please," you whisper, the words stumbling out of you, breathless and undone.
A sharp, almost cruel tug at the corner of his mouth sends a jolt of pure want down your spine. He looks amused, but itโs the kind of amusement a predator feels when the prey finally stops running.
"Oh, you misunderstood, Princess," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a register so low you feel it in your marrow. "I meantย yourย uniform stays on."
His hands slide down, abandoning your waist to seize your ass under your skirt. His fingers sink into the flesh, squeezing, forcing a small, startled gasp from your lips. Then, he grinds. He moves his hips in a slow, agonizingly deliberate roll, forcing his hard cock against the damp heat of your panties.
"Mine, well..." He leans in, his lips brushing your lobe, a ghost of a touch. "Mine is staying on too but I've always wanted to fuck you in your Hunter gear. To see you looking so professional while you cum for me"
The confession is filthy and it makes your stomach flip. Before you can fully process the words he hooks his fingers into the lace of your panties and yanks them to the side with a single, impatient tug.
The air hits your wetness for just a split second.
He doesn't tease you with a slow entry. He thrusts. One heavy, singular motion that drives the fat head of his cock past your folds and buries himself to the hilt.
"Ahhh,ย fuck!"
You canโt even scream, your mouth just hangs open, your back arching in a desperate, involuntary curve as your walls clench around him in spasms of shock. He feels massive, too big, too much, filling every empty inch of you until you feel heavy with him.
"God, you're always so fucking tight," he rasps, his voice breaking. Heโs panting now, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder as he fights for air. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, thumbs hooking into your skin to spread you wider, anchoring you so he can begin to move.
He pulls back just enough to create a sliver of space, then drives back in, a shallow rhythm that makes your vision blur. He leans in, his lips a hair's breadth from yours, his eyes dark with a terrifying, beautiful obsession.
"You want to know the rest of the story, baby?" he whispers before catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "I'll show you. I'll show you exactly how it ends."
He doesn't move, heย attacks. His arms wrap around your waist, his hands locking behind your back to crush you against the unyielding wall of his chest. The rhythm is frantic, leaving you breathless. Every time he slams upward, you're lifted, the head of his dick bruising your cervix before sliding back down to drag against your walls.
There are no soft kisses. Instead, every time you gasp for air, he catches the sound with his mouth, his lips pressing against yours to inhale your breath. His eyes never leave yours, they burn with a hunger that feels less like love and more like an obsession.
The room disappears. The only things left in the universe are the wet, rhythmicย slapย of his pelvis hitting your skin, the groan of the couch springs, and the violent thud of your heart against your ribs.
Heโs not being careful. Heโs not trying to be gentle. Heโs grinding his pelvis upward with every surge, hunting for that one spot deep inside you that makes your whole body shudder. The sensation is a white hot, overwhelming pressure, pulling you closer and closer to the edge of a cliff you aren't sure you're ready to fall from.
"Let... go," he grunts.
Itโs not a plea. Itโs a command, delivered with the cold, unshakable authority of a man who spends his time commanding fleets. His hands move, his grip tightening on your hip bones until itโs almost painful, anchoring you in place so he can drive into you with even more ferocity.
Your body finally breaks. The tension thatโs been coiling in your gut snaps like a high tension wire, and you lose all semblance of control. Your walls clamping down on him in a series of rhythmic spasms that make your vision white out. A jagged, broken cry tears from your throat when your orgasm hits, hips bucking erratically against his in a needy attempt to find more of the friction thatโs destroying you.
He doesn't let you drift. He keeps slamming into you with a relentless rhythm, forcing you to take every inch of him even as your muscles scream and twitch around him.
"That's it," he grunts, his voice wrecked "Fuck... you're perfect. You were made for this. Made just for me.".
With a few last, violent thrusts, Caleb hits his limit. He drives himself into you one last time and his entire body turns to stone. You watch, dazed and breathless, as his face contorts. The composed Colonel is gone, replaced by a man stripped bare by pure sensation. His eyes squeeze shut, lashes casting long shadows against his cheekbones, and a loud groan rumbles from the depths of his lungs. His neck tendons stand out like taut cords and a single bead of sweat tracks down the line of his throat, catching the light as it slides toward the silver glint of his dogtag.
When the frantic pounding of your hearts begins to slow, a dizzy laugh bubbles up in your throat, a sound of pure happiness.
The sound makes him react instantly. He pulls back just enough to look at you, the predatory intensity in his eyes softening into something wicked and bright. A slow, lopsided grin spreads across his face, and he leans in, his nose brushing yours.
"Not done yet," he whispers against your lips "Ready for round two, my insatiable little hunter?"
at first you didnโt know what to think of xavier. he was too mysterious, too quiet โฆย until he wasnโt. the quietness turned into hour long talks. or time which you spent in each others presence without talking. you never had someone who you could be silent with. it made all the talks with him more special. it took you time to fully trust him. but he understood โ and kept your trust close to his chest like the most precious treasure.ย
one night, the two of you sat on his balcony, watching the stars. xavier laughed about something you said โฆ and that was the moment in which it clicked. you looked at him, at his beaming smile, at his beautiful eyes, his melodic laugh in your ears, and you realized:ย you loved him. you were in love with him.
xavier raised his brows. โwhat is it?โ, he inquired.
heat crept into your cheeks. you avoided his gaze, looking up at the stars again. โnothing.โย
he poked your cheek. โtell me.โ
you shook your head. โI canโt.โย
โyou can tell me anything.โย
you looked at him again. there was a little wrinkle between his brows, his eyes full of curiosity. your heartbeat fastened. โnot this time, I fear.โ
hurt crossed his face, only for a split second, but you didnโt like it one bit. your body acted on itโs own โ you reached for him, softly grazing the space between his brows, making the worried wrinkle disappear. his eyes took on a look you never saw before: dark and full of promises you didnโt think were possible. heat flooded your whole body.ย
โdonโt look at me like that.โ the words left your lips way too breathless.ย
he cocked his head to the side. โlike what?โย
โlike โฆ you know exactly how you look at me!โ, you exclaimed, gesturing to his whole face and body. xavier grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. your breath hitched at the sudden contact. his thumb caressed the back of your hand. warmth spread from where his skin touched yours.ย
โI look like thatโ, he said, raising your hand to his face and nuzzling it softly. โbecause I like you.โ
your heart skipped a beat. โyou do?โ
โyesโ, he answered matter of factly. โI like you very much.โย
you decided to be brave then and there. a moment later you leaned forward and kissed him. it was a small peck, not particularly skilled. but when you leaned back again, xaviers smile was brighter than the whole sky full of stars.
next thing you knew, he was the one kissing you. and he didnโt stop for a long time, drinking all the unspoken words directly from your lips.ย
rafayel/caleb: you are PROTECTED and WATCHED. they get along annoyingly well and end up telling each other all their secrets, even the ones kept from you. they decide working together fully is in your best interest. feed into each other's yandere tendencies. lots of ribbons and blindfolds and manhandling when they fuck you. their shared cute aggression and inability to say no to you is your greatest weapon.
zayne/sylus: daddy duo. zayne is the strict one. you go to sylus when you want to go behind zayne's back to get your way. sometimes sylus betrays you and ties you to the bed posts and leaves you for zayne to find when he gets home. they both call you sweet girl, and when you are in public, they both have a hand on you somewhere at all times.
rafayel/zayne: work really well together when shit gets serious. teacher/student roleplay, often. they have very different worldviews and you are always trying to prompt philosophical discussions between them for your own entertainment. also work together well at night. rafayel holds you against his chest, entirely restrained, while zayne punishes you with his cock. very gentle thorough aftercare.
rafayel/sylus: they nearly kill each other a few times at the start. they are apparently accidents, but you have your doubts. especially when sylus calls raf kitten one day and gets a dagger in his shoulder as a consequence. they take you on exotic trips very often. you get fucked in each place. they keep track of these places on a map and challenge each other in various games to decide who gets to choose the next place to take you. they both love dressing you up all pretty, often in pink.
xavier/caleb: always competing for your attention. snarky. passive-aggressive jealous bickering. lock in together when you need protecting. no hand raised against you lives. every time caleb feeds you a perfectly cooked meal, xavier fucks you for desert to make sure he's keeping the balance. caleb banned him from the kitchen for your safety. xavier makes you call him gege sometimes just to piss him off.
xavier/zayne: you catch them in discussions sometimes that make your head spin. they respect each other a lot. zayne has an accident with his evol one night and needs distance from you, escaping out into the cold night. but before he can spiral into self-loathing, xavier follows him out and talks him out of it. he tells him he's the only one in the universe he trusts with your life.
rafayel/xavier: pure joy and fun with a side of murder. they don't get along at first. xavier doesn't like how involved you are with rafayel's revenge/rescue missions. but after insisting on coming along, he quickly gets on side. ends up completely dedicated to the cause, especially when he sees how it upsets you. you find them napping together sometimes, and rafayel calls xavier old and out of touch when he doesn't understand his art. you have baths together nearly every day, and at night they grab at you and tug you between them like two only children who've never had to share their favourite toy.
xavier/sylus: sylus scares children off as he stands at your side and xavier smiles from your other side and tells them he's not nearly as scary as he looks. sylus stirs up xavier's jealous tendencies on purpose just to fuck with him, and because he knows you like it. he'll sit you on his cock and ask who fills you better or challenge xavier to try and take what belongs to him. respect each other but bicker like they hate each other.
zayne/caleb: serious plotting and scheming. have the potential to take over planet earth. EVER is rubble in 4 business days. no matter how much you want to see them fight, they keep it out of your sight, even when you tease and incite jealousy as best you can. sometimes when you've been more trouble than usual, they punish you together for being a bad girl.
sylus/caleb: the most pampered spoiled princess known to mankind. wants for nothing. sleeps in between them every night and when one of them is gone the other cockwarms you to soothe you. potential for absolute evil to manifest between them as they feed into each other's all-consuming obsession and desire for you. have the potential to work together to destroy all life in the universe if it would make you just a little bit happier.
Rafayel gasps like you just stabbed him. โDid youโ Did you just reject me?! Me?!โ
He freezes mid-pucker, eyes widening. Then the dramatics hit: hand dramatically over his heart, head tilting back with a theatrical gasp.
โWow. Wowww. The love of my life just rejected me like Iโm some cheap paintbrush. Heartless. Cruel. Iโm literally going to wither away right here on this couch.โ
He flops backward, arms crossed, full-on pouting and refusing to look at youโฆ for about three seconds. Then he peeks through his lashes, voice dropping into that whiny-sulky tone:
โFine. Ignore your poor fish.โ
Heโll crawl back two minutes later, dramatically draping himself over your lap demanding โcompensation kissesโ while grumbling.
๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ฅ
You tilt your head at the last second so his lips brush your cheek instead of your mouth.
He pauses, blue eyes blinking slowly. A tiny, dangerous little smile tugs at his lips, the one that says heโs about to ruin you in the gentlest way possible.
โMmmโฆ dodging me now?โ
He doesnโt get mad. He just lazily reaches out, hooks two fingers in the collar of your shirt, and tugs you straight back into his chest. Voice husky against your ear:
โYou know running only makes me want to chase you more, right?โ
Then he nuzzles into your neck, planting soft open-mouthed kisses along your jaw until youโre squirming. โNext time you dodgeโฆ Iโm not stopping at one kiss.โ
๐ญ๐๐ฌ๐ก๐
You turn your face so his kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. One perfectly arched eyebrow lifts. Ice-cold gaze pins you in place.
โInteresting choice,โ he says, voice calm but dripping with that signature dry sarcasm.
He doesnโt chase immediately. He just slowly loosens his tie, steps closer until youโre backed against the wall, and tilts your chin up with two fingers.
โHeart rateโs elevated. Pupils dilated. Youโre not actually rejecting meโฆ youโre just playing.โ
Leans in until his lips are brushing yours without touching โ pure torture.
โNaughty. Iโll remember this.โ
Then he finally kisses you so deep and controlled you forget your own name.
๐ฆ๐ฌ๐๐จ๐ฆ
You dodge. His lips miss by a millimeter. The second you dodge, that signature smirk spreads across his face slow, dangerous, and way too amused. Crimson eyes narrow.
โOh? My little kitten wants to play hard to get tonight?โ
He chuckles low in his throat, crowding you against the nearest wall. One hand braces beside your head, the other lazily tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.
โDodging me only makes me want to ruin you more. You know that, right?โ
He leans in like heโs going for the kiss againโฆ then stops millimeters away.
โBeg nicely and maybe Iโll still let you have it. Or keep running โ I do love the chase.โ
Heโll corner you until youโre the one pulling him in, every single time.
๐๐๐๐๐
You turn your head so the kiss lands on your cheek like itโs โjust friendly.โ He actually freezes for half a second, big purple eyes going wide. Then the playful grin turns wicked.
โAw cโmon, pipsqueakโฆ youโre really gonna dodge your favorite person?โ
He laughs, but thereโs that dark little edge underneath the one that always comes out when heโs jealous or needy. Suddenly heโs scooping you up like you weigh nothing, tossing you over his shoulder, and carrying you straight to the couch.
โYou know dodging me just makes me wanna pin you down and kiss you stupid, right?โ
Drops you on his lap, arms locked around your waist so you canโt escape, nose brushing yours.
โTry that again and Iโm not stopping at kisses, got it?โ
Then heโs peppering your whole face with kisses while muttering โmine, mine, mineโ between each one like the possessive childhood bsf he is.
โ As someone that used to work at The Coffee Shop โข . Here are my headcanons of the drinks and snacks the boys would order. โ
Xavier: Heโs ordering a venti iced americano with a splash of cream, or a shaken iced tea with raspberry syrup. Iโm not sure why, it just feels right. He likes the loafs and the paninis. If youโre working, heโd try and buy you something too. โDo you want anything? No? Do they not let you buy things? You should quit.โ
Zayne: Zayne orders a double chocolate chip Frappuccino, sub almond milk, and keep the whipped cream, with extra caramel drizzle. Heโd add shots of espresso into it if he needed a boost, but he prefers just the sugary rush. For food, heโd order the egg white bites or one of the muffins (warmed please, of course.) I feel like heโd never complain if his drink was made wrong, but if it was yours heโs going back inside to make sure itโs done rightโ politely, because he was raised right.
Rafayel: Heโs either ordering a dirty chai or like a mint majesty tea. He likes the seasonal snacks like the cranberry bliss bar or the pumpkin scone. If you were working, heโs bothering you, โWell, what do you like? โ Hm, no I donโt want that. What else is good?โ Just holding up the line.
Sylus: Sylus is definitely ordering a flat white, or like an espresso con panna (I know that itโs Italian but that the Bucks itโs shots of espresso poured over whipped cream.) Heโs downing it like a shot at the counter and walking away. If youโre working, heโs ordering a black coffee with room, and then hanging out at the counter and wasting time pouring stuff into it to chat you up until you get in trouble.
Caleb: Caleb is ordering a mocha with extra shots, OR a cold brew with cold foam. He likes just a little sweetness. He buys breakfast sandwiches sometimes, but heโs not a huge fan of cafe food (at least at the coffee shop). However! If heโs going to see you that day, heโs buying a few cake pops with whatever has a cute face and bothering the barista like โNo, not that one. The face is all messed up. โ Yeah, that ones good. Theyโll love this.โ
l word count: 1.7k l smut, public/semi-public sex, piv l
Rafayel was so over the socializing. The polite nods and smiles where he pretends to be interested becoming less and less convincing. You knew him well enough to tell that another forced smile would likely turn into dramatic eyerolls and heavy sighs, making his discomfort the featured guest among chandeliers, champagne and silk gowns.
He didn't even want to come to this event in the first place. The exclusive guestlist filled with names he recognized from his own exhibits. They wanted to show off, to own his name and hang it on a wall somewhere the sun would eat at it. They didn't care for the art, they cared for that little squiggle in the bottom right corner; his signature.
Rafayel decided he had entertained these pretenders for long enough, when a final comment truly sent him over the edge. It wasn't about him or his art, no, this was worse. Someone had whispered things about you, things no one else were supposed to talk about. Your beauty was his alone to admire and these pests had reduced your appearance to something that could be described in one syllable and paired with a low whistle.
He was disgusted.
After eyeing the "men" with a stare as fiery as his evol, Rafayel finds your hand and starts tugging you toward the exit. You were completely unaware of the silent battle he just fought with his eyes and the victims left frozen, cowering, even with the growing distance between prey and predator.
Once in the empty foyer, Rafayel wastes no time and pounces on you instantly. His kiss catches you by surprise, claiming and passionate. Although confused by the sudden ferocity, you reciprocate his fervor, letting your hands find comfort on his firm chest. It's not enough to satisfy his need. The kiss deepens and you feel yourself being moved backwards. Soon enough, you hit a wall, cold and hard against your back.
"No one else, yeah? Just me, only me," his words come out muffled against your lips, not willing to part from you long enough to voice them properly.
"Of course, Rafayel, mhm -" a moan slips out in between your words, coaxed to the surface by his canines digging into your bottom lip. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong?" He muses, smirking into the kiss he still refuses to fully break. "Is it wrong for me to want you like this? How can it be wrong when it feels so good?"
Long, delicate fingers wrap around your wrists moving them up above your head, out of the way so that his body can move closer to yours, shifting his hold to free one hand without letting either of yours go. You're trapped. Wrists caught and body pressed tightly against his. His free hand has a hold of the side of your neck, using his thumb to tilt your chin however he sees fit.
Youโre vaguely aware of the fact that someone might see you. Any second now someone might decide that fresh air is needed, a break from the stuffy ballroom. The thought is exhilarating. Rafayel would keep you safe. Heโll happily flaunt and show you off, but he would never share.
"Doesnโt this feel good, cutie?" He breathes against your neck, scattering little kisses upon the sensitive skin. You assume he means the kisses, but then you feel his long, delicate fingers find your inner thigh through the high slit of your dress.
The first touch against your clothed sex is gentle and teasing, just enough for you to gasp in anticipation. "Will you let me touch you? Let me show everyone who you belong to."
Before you can properly respond, Rafayel starts moving his finger in slow circles. Your eyes flutter close, hiding the fact that his proud smirk grows wider with each breathy moan that escapes your lips.
"Rafayel, please," you whimper, bucking your hips and asking for more.
He releases your pinned wrists in favor of wrapping his arm around you, keeping you steady as your knees threaten to buckle.
"My naughty girl," he teases, letting his thumb play with the waistline of your panties. "You want me to take these off, but what if someone sees?"
Rafayel still lets his thumb hook into the thin lace, dragging it down your legs agonizingly slow. Soon he's kneeling in front of you, holding your ankle and placing a tender kiss to the bare skin as he works to remove your panties.
He kisses you again, lips, cheek, jaw and neck, lingering there to paint pretty bruises. His finger finds your clit, finally making direct contact and resuming his previous movements. Rafayel relishes in the way he can feel your need against his own body like this. How your breath tickles his neck, your soft breasts molding to his firm chest, your nails attempting to claw at his back through the overpriced suit jacket that covers the pale skin you crave.
"Keep it down, cutie. Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, right?"
Once again, you're reminded of where you are. Soft music and pretentious laughter trickles into the foyer through closed doors. Yet, when Rafayel swipes his finger between your folds, coating it in arousal, the world simply disappears.
He's teasing your entrance, eliciting an undignified whine from you when he decides to linger there a moment longer than you have the patience for. Just as he's about to give you exactly what you want, the world reannounces itself in the form of a door opening to allow music and laughter to flood the foyer.
You don't have time to register what's happened before you find yourself swept up into Rafayel's strong arms carrying you away down a quiet corridor. The sound of laughter, music and heels on marble becoming distant once more.
"Let's find somewhere a little more quiet, yeah? I need to hear you."
Luxurious gilded details, warm lighting, a vanity that soon becomes your seat - you barely even notice any of it. You are lost in the feeling of his hands on your body, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of adoration and lust, the sound of a door closing, and the click of a lock.
"Sing for me," he smirks, finally letting a finger slip inside you. After a few precise strokes, he adds a second. "Let me hear all the pretty sounds you make when I do this."
"Ah!" You do exactly as you're told, unable to hold anything back when he curls his fingers just right, easily finding your g-spot.
Rafayel watches in awe as your face contorts in pleasure, his own need becoming harder and harder to ignore.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful. Think you're ready for me, cutie? I need to feel you."
You pull him closer by tugging at his belt, fumbling with the infuriating buckle. Rafayel seems to have reached the end of his own patience, removing the belt and his slacks in record time. His boxers barely make it past his rear before he's pulling you toward the edge of the vanity and lining himself up with your entrance. He drags the head of his cock through your wetness, making sure to nudge against your clit with each languid stroke.
"Rafayel," you beg, dragging out the vowels of his name and adorning your face with a needy pout.
"Should I be a good, honest boy, or should I play hard to get?"
Deciding you've reached your limit for the night, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. The quick movement has the tip of his cock pressing against your clit in the best way possible, causing you to moan into the kiss. One hand slides down to his chest. Your nails fight against his shirt but still succeed in applying enough pressure to make Rafayel shiver at the touch. You stop at the brightly glowing mark over his heart, letting the heat of his body radiate into your palm.
The delicious stretch of his hard length pushing itself inside your warmth has both your breaths stuttering. Nails dig deeper, hands press firmer - surrender is easy when Rafayel cradles you in his very capable hands.
His pace quickens, causing the vanity to shake and tremble from the force of his thrusts. Rafayel doesn't care and simply holds you even tighter, getting deep enough to gently kiss your cervix. Your fingers have tangled themselves in his hair, subconsciously tugging at the purple tresses with each exquisite thrust.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door. You both notice it, but Rafayel doesn't seem to care and continues his eager movements. When you open your mouth, he presses his lips over yours, swallowing whatever sounds that escape and hindering the words from ever forming.
"It's occupied!" He yells, annoyed. Then he turns to you, changing his tone entirely. "Tell them who's making you feel good, yeah? Let them know that I'm the only one who gets to have you like this," he commands, nipping at your earlobe with sharp canines.
Rafayel feels you clench around him after he makes his request and he can't help but smile at the satisfaction of knowing what his words can do to you.
"You like that, don't you? Does it turn you on knowing that someone could find us like this? You're making this event a whole lot more exciting than I ever could have imagined, you know?"
Sensing that you're getting close, he snakes a hand into the little space that remains between your interlocked bodies, letting his skilled fingers pleasure your clit.
"Rafayel, f-fuck, I'm coming!"
"Yeah? Come for me, cutie. Give it to me," he says breathlessly, clutching your hips hard enough to bruise as his own climax approaches.
With his name on your lips and his arms holding you close, you succumb to pleasure. A few lazy thrusts later Rafayel spills inside you, letting anyone who dares to eavesdrop know your name in the process.
You stay like that for a moment, linked in the most intimate way possible as you come down from your high together. It takes you both some time to notice the knocking has returned. This time a familiar voice mumbles something behind the door. When you realize that it's Thomas, you both have to fight back the giggles.
"The only one who will ever truly own my name, is you, cutie."
AN: Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!
MDNI ๐ if you play with fire too much, be sure that zayne will put you in your place
โ. โ content warnings: soft dom zayne, teasing, doggy style (implied), wall sex, rough sex, brat tamer zayne
(repost from my old blog - zaynessbeloved)
He let you get away with too much.
The teasing. The eye rolls. The smug little smirks every time you pushed his buttons and got away with it. Zayne, the stoic doctor with nerves of steel and hands steady even in chaos. You liked to test him. You loved it.
Because every time he narrowed his eyes at you, every time his jaw clenched just soโyou knew he was keeping himself in check. And you were the one rattling him.
But tonight... tonight you pushed too far. Youโd been snappy all day. Rolled your hips against his thigh during a kiss. Bit his lip harder than necessary. Whispered a filthy dare in his ear right before his scheduled surgery. Left your underwear in his coat pocket.
And then he came home exhausted, drained and still in his scrubs, and found you sprawled on the bed in nothing but a shirt that wasnโt yours, asking in your sweetest voice, โAre you gonna fuck me or just keep pretending youโre not affected, Dr. Zayne?โ
He cracked, but not loudly. No. Zayne didnโt raise his voice. He didnโt bark orders. He just locked the door, walked to the foot of the bed, and gave you a look so quiet and cutting it made your stomach drop.
โOn your knees.โ
You blinked and hesitated. He stepped forward calmly, collected and so damn commanding. โNow.โ
And you moved to get on your knees, because there was no room for bratty behavior in his tone. No space for giggles or eye rolls. Just the weight of his dominance finally slipping into place.
He undressed you slowlyโshirt first, then the little gasp you made when his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face up.
โYou wanted my attention, my love.โ he murmured, voice soft but no less cutting. โNow you have all of it.โ
The next few minutes were a blur of command and contact. Face down, ass up. His palm against your skin. Measured swats that had your legs shaking. Your moans were half apology, half pleasure, but he didnโt let you speak. Every time your lips parted, he pressed a finger to them or pushed your face deeper into the mattress.
โYou act like I wonโt put you in your place,โ he whispered into your neck as he lined himself up behind you. โBut you forget, sweetheartโฆthis body belongs to me and it knows it.โ
He didnโt slam into you. He sank in, all the way in. One long, devastating push that left you crying out, clenching down, back arching in surrender. And once he was buried deep, with his hips flush and breath shaking against your spine, he stilled.
โYouโre going to take every inch like a good girl,โ he said softly. โAnd tomorrow, when youโre limping, when you feel every bruise, youโll remember this is what happens when you act out.โ
And you did. Because Zayne didnโt need to raise his voice to ruin you. He just needed to decide he wanted to, and you were already too far gone.
It only took a few days for you to regain courage. At first, you swore youโd behave. After the last timeโafter he left you sore and breathless, legs trembling for two daysโyou said all the right things. Promised you'd be good. Promised youโd learn.
You didnโt. Not really. Because by the end of the week, you were right back at itโthis time more subtle, more teasing. At breakfast, you bent over in front of him in nothing but his shirt, letting it ride up just enough to show that you werenโt wearing anything underneath. When he reached for his coffee, you took it and sipped instead, licking the rim slowly while staring him dead in the eyes.
โThought you liked it when I misbehaved,โ you purred.
Zayne didnโt immediately give a reaction. He just stared like all the times before. But you knew that look too well now. His fingers clenched slightly around his fork. His shoulders held a subtle tension. And when you finally turned around to walk past him, his voice cut through the air, quiet and controlled. โBedroom. Now.โ
You glanced over your shoulder, feigning innocence. โBut I havenโt finished myโโ
โDonโt make me repeat myself.โ
And that was it. Because this time, Zayne didnโt plan to be patient. The second you stepped into the bedroom, the door slammed shut behind you, and before you could so much as gasp, he had your wrists pinned against the wall.
โYou donโt get to act like a little brat,โ he murmured, lips brushing your ear, โand then pretend you donโt know what youโre doing.โ
โI was justโโ
โNo. You were testing me.โ
His hands slid down your sides, slow and firm, grounding you in that way only he could. Your breath caught when he lifted your leg, forcing it around his waist, pinning your body between him and the wall.
โNo warmup today,โ he whispered. โYou think you can play games? Fine. Take what you asked for.โ
He pushed inside you in one brutal, perfect thrust. Your head slammed back against the wall with a moan, fingers clawing at his shoulders, nails digging into skin through his shirt. His pace was unforgiving, breath hot against your neck, hips snapping forward with punishing precision.
โIs this what you wanted?โ he growled into your neck, voice still maddeningly calm. โTo limp again? To cry because Iโm hitting too deep?โ
You couldnโt even answer. You were already gone, voice breaking on every thrust, legs shaking, walls fluttering around him like your body couldnโt decide whether to take him or break from how good he felt.
And Zayne was unrelenting. Not angry nor cruel, but so very intentional in every thrust inside you, every grip on your soft flesh. Every soft, cruel whisper in your ear.
โYou want to see how far Iโll go, my love?โ he breathed, kissing your jaw just before biting it. โKeep pushing. Iโll make sure you remember just how badly I can break you.โ
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