a/n: hi hi !! i hope u enjoy this sweet little domestic piece with xavier hehe :3 requested by @cnavyblue i hope u like it :D that last paragraph is actually top 7 things ive written ever i think so that’s fun ! let me know what u guys think <3
tags/warnings: none ! all domestic fluff <3 wc: 1.1k
today had been exhausting, horrendous, downright atrocious even. a sigh of relief leaves your body the second you close your front door behind you, taking a moment to close your eyes and just breathe. you fight back tears, no, you weren’t going to cry. not tonight at least. tonight you would take care of yourself in the way you knew always worked.
you let the hot water in the shower wash away your worries, using your favorite products and listening to your favorite music. you don’t bother drying your hair, throwing on the sweatshirt you’d stolen from xavier and lighting your favorite candle, humming to yourself as you waited for the popcorn to finish popping.
as you settled into your couch, a small smile etched on your lips. yeah, this was what you needed. you turned to the side slightly, the bunbun plush next to you stared back at you.
you were just missing one crucial thing. he was probably still awake, right?
you: hiii are u awake still :P
angel eyes: yeah, can’t sleep
angel eyes: R U ok?
you: yeah… join me for a romcom ?? :]
the three dots appear and disappear quickly, a small flash of light coming from your bedroom makes you smile widely. you hear the bedroom door creak open and footsteps coming down the hall. messy silver hair and shining blue eyes round the corner to your living room, grey sweat shorts hanging on his hips paired with a black t shirt. you don’t bother hiding the way your eyes trail up his legs, lingering on his thick thighs before finally meeting his eyes.
“so you’ve given up on front doors completely then?” you smile, xavier’s eyes quickly find yours, a smile breaking onto his face as he makes his way towards you.
“didn’t wanna spend anymore time apart from you,” he pouts, you giggle at the way his brows furrow sadly. “long day?” he asks, settling in easily in the space next to you, wiggling a bit until you’re comfortable, you body nestled right up against his and popcorn bowl placed perfectly between his legs.
you hum in response, letting your head rest on his chest as you grab the remote, scrolling through available romcoms before finally landing on one.
“if you’re a bird I’m a bird,” xavier mumbles to you quietly as the movie starts, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. you can’t help the giant grin on your face as you turn to look at your lover.
“when did you watch the notebook?” you tease, savoring the way he smiles sheepishly as his cheeks turn the shade of pink you adore on him.
“i really like romcoms,” he mutters, face turning to avoid yours. a small gasp leaves your lips, quickly replaced by incessant giggles when you cup his cheeks with both hands, forcing him to look at you.
“my hopeless romantic,” you smile softly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his nose. xavier smiles, blinking quickly before placing his hands softly on either side of your face, grinning before placing a kiss to your lips. you squeak softly, eyes fluttering shut and whining when he pulls away with a quiet chuckle.
“for you, always.”
you giggle at his words, ignoring the way your face heats up and refraining from commenting on his bright red ears. it was true though, he was a hopeless romantic.
memories of him constantly giving you flowers, sharing headphones, buying you things, confessing his feelings to you after you’d argued and he almost burst into tears, kissing in the rain. the thought made you smile, xavier noticed, of course he did.
xavier only cared for romcoms because he knew you’d love them. he knew you’d want a love so strong they’d run in the rain for you, a love so deep that no matter what happens, your lover would find their way to you. and he gave you that, time and time again he was your fated lover.
neither of you made it past the thirty minute mark of the movie, exhaustion creeping up on the two of you. the comfort of being home with the person you trust the most made your eyelids heavier.
you pretended to be awake when xavier stirred next to you, eyes glued to the screen for half a second before you head lolled forward. xavier didn’t bother acting, soft snores leaving his lips as sweet scenes unfolded on the television.
loud arguments from the movie caused the two of you to jump slightly, eyes bleary as you both blinked quickly and tried to cover up the micronap you’d just taken.
“did you fall asleep?” you ask quietly, rubbing your eyes as xavier yawned.
“… no, did you?” you stare at xavier with narrowed eyes, he blinks rapidly under your gaze before the slightest smile appears on his lips. “okay maybe for a bit.”
“it’s okay, me too,” you chuckle, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. you stretch with a quiet groan, letting your body fall limp onto your lover.
“‘m so tired, can’t do anything anymore,” you mumble, eyes closing on their own accord as you listen to xavier’s steady heartbeat.
“then we don’t have to,” he replied simply, placing the popcorn bowl on your coffee table before maneuvering his arms underneath you. “let’s just go to sleep, tomorrow we can have a movie night, sound good?” his quiet voice only helps lull you deeper into sleep.
“mhm,” you hum, arms wrapped around his neck as he walks to your bedroom, tucking you into bed. he slips out of his clothes and joins you under the sheets. you smile slightly at the smell of his body wash and cologne, curling your arms tighter around him. xavier feels his stomach flip at the action.
“you won’t leave right?” you slur, right on the line between lucid and asleep. xavier holds back a chuckle at your words, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before letting his eyes flutter shut.
“i won’t ever leave you, my star,” he whispers, “I’ll be right here with you, always.” your silence makes his eyes open, heartbeat calming when he finds you’ve just fallen asleep. he lets out a small sigh, “i love you starlight, more than you know.”
maybe engraved in his dna along with the nucleic bases you were woven in, a part of who he was no matter what. it was always going to be you, nothing could change that. not the timeline he was in, not the world he inhabited or the role he played.
it was always you and him, and he wouldnt have it any other way.
masterlist
taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @pjselee @luvyizhou @colonelkaboom @xyzsbaobei @ellavelysworld @floatingpalelilies @stillseiims @cocoaxia @goddesssevenseas @latte-ghost @vanillaapples send and ask to be added :3
Xavier finds out you have been flirted with.
─ .✦ established relationship, jealous and possessive Xavier, MC got flirted with, they fight and make up
─ .✦ word count: 1.9k
Written for this lovely event by @gardenialily ♡ I know this has taken me quite some time, but i had a lot of fun writing so if you can, please go and check out the masterlist!
I chose (1) A = angry (2) X = XO and (3) Repayment!
I'd love to get to know you more, text me back when you see this
- xoxo, your secret admirer ;)
When you get out from the shower still patting down your slightly damp hair, you notice Xavier standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at something in his hand that you cannot immediately recognize as you step closer, faintly noticing the serious expression drawn across his face.
It's unusual for him not to turn his head in your direction, especially when you had been too impatient to go and dry your hair first — something, that will always have you end up with a runny nose for a couple of days after and put on long sleeves even during the warmest summer days.
Usually, Xavier would immediately offer to get the hairdryer for you, have you sit down on the sofa, so he can take his time making sure your hair would be completely dry before you lie down somewhere else. He's learned your care routine over the months of dating you and has gotten pretty good with it, to the point you trust him with everything while you relax under his magic spell.
But tonight, Xavier looks.. distressed? He's still staring at whatever is in his hand, his back turned to you that you have to tiptoe around him in an attempt to get a look, but he's faster and already moving away before you can see what has him so riled up.
You spot the bag you brought home just a couple of hours ago sitting on the counter in front of him: it's from that fancy patisserie that just recently opened which Zayne recommended to you during one of your appointments last week. And since Xavier's coming over tonight for dinner, a movie night and probably some cuddling after, you made sure to stop by on your way home to bring back an array of freshly baked goods you two could have as a dessert.
You assume he must have taken them out to serve them on some plates while you had been in the shower, yet whatever happened during it, must have left him so conflicted that he has silently contemplating something without saying a word to you even when you're right next to him.
"What's on your mind?" you ask him casually, walking over to the cupboard to take out some plates, "You've been so quiet."
Xavier doesn't respond. You walk over to the drawer next to him and reach for some forks, take a quick glance up and realize that whatever must be on his mind is not something you should be taking this lightly; there's something unexplainable behind his eyes which you always loved to compare to the prettiest stars in the sky — something dark and dangerous that you can't put the right words behind.
"Xavier?" you reach for his hand and gently pat it, and Xavier's eyes widen for a quick second as his head whips up and he stares right back at you, "..are you alright?"
"Where did you go today?" he asks instead of answering your question, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer, "After work, I mean."
"Hm? Oh, I stopped by that pastry shop," you remind him, your arms returning the embrace without realizing how tight his grip has gotten, "The one that just opened near the association. I think it's called.. 'les étoiles'? Why?"
You turn towards the bag on the counter and carefully open the box, showing him what's inside, "Looks great, doesn't it?" you chirp with a small giggle, "I picked out a bunch for us to try. The staff there recommended this one when I-"
"The staff, huh"
His voice drops, and the part of your skin that his hands are touching starts feeling incredibly warm. You recognize this tone and the way these words coming out of his mouth sound: it's reminiscent of how Xavier always acts when you talk to him about your neighbor Charlie, or how he reacts when you tell him about getting free macarons from Zayne after finishing your monthly check-ups.
It's something you have learned about him just after you two started dating. The sudden changes in his mood when you had happily told him about getting free bread had taken you by surprise at first, and it's only a while later that you realized it's only with certain people that Xavier gets like this: he is jealous.
You've never thought of him as the jealous type when you had first gotten to know him; Xavier always seems so calm and collected about everything else in his life, that you never realized how easily affected he is when you closely hang out with someone else until you started taking a closer look at him and the way his face changes.
Except the thing is, for today, you don't think something had happened that would result in him looking this angry: in fact, since he wasn't even there when you went to pick up desserts, there's no reason for him to look this upset. Especially, since this isn't something unusual for you two; there have been a lot of occasions where either of you go and pick up food for each other, and never had it resulted in an argument like it sometimes does when Xavier's jealousy makes it hard to even greet people you've known for a while.
"Did they say anything to you?" he asks, his voice rough around the edges, "What did they look like?"
You look up at him and tilt your head, "Uh, I don't think I remember tha-"
"Do you really? Or are you just saying that so I don't pry further?"
He looks tense, his eyes scanning every single bit about you as if trying to find a hole in your story that just isn't there. And then you finally spot the slip of paper in his palm that he had tried to hide away from you this whole time.
"What's.. that?"
You reach for it before he's able to register what is happening, and when you finally manage to read it all, the puzzle full of questions starts solving itself bit by bit:
It's a note someone must have put on top of the box of pastries you have gotten earlier today, that you didn't even notice until Xavier did. The phone number, hastily scribbled down next to a very flirty message that is trying to catch your attention, has you let out a small gasp; especially when you recall not having whatsoever of an overly friendly conversation with the person taking your order. In fact, you are pretty sure you had asked for a recommendation, keeping in mind a certain someone who liked anything with cherries in it.
"Who-"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he replies coldly, "Why did you take this?"
"I didn't! I didn't even know this existed until just now-"
"And he just happened to ask to get to know you better when all you did was order? Is that really what you want me to believe?"
You are staring at him wide-eyed; his harsh words echoing in your head as your heart stops beating for a second and you feel a pained sting in your chest. This isn't the Xavier you have grown to love and cherish; not the one, who you have promised to be with for as long he'd keep shining for you.
This is an unreasonable part of him that has forgotten about everything you've ever told him.
And he can clearly tell how hurt you are. The moment the words leave his lips, it's like he stops breathing for a second, realizing what he had done. Xavier huffs, taking the note out of your hand to give it one last read before he crumples it in his fist. And then, without saying another word, he backs off and quietly walks away.
He doesn't get far, because you are following him closely, your hands reaching forward to hold him back because his silence has you worried about what's going through his head. Xavier's jealousy has never really been an issue for you; in fact, there is a part of you that finds his possessiveness quite attractive since he doesn't really go too far with it except for trying to prove the point that you are his, and his only. It's just that in rare cases like this, his impulsiveness will bury any rational thought he'd usually have, had this not been about you.
You are certain that deep down, Xavier knows, that you won't ever have eyes for someone else, but he despises the idea of someone else looking at you the way he does: your loveliness, charm and sweetness something only he wants to lay his eyes on, even though that's not really possible.
"I really had no idea.." you mumble, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt, "I'm sorry, Xav, I didn't really mean to-"
"There's no reason for you to be sorry," he mutters, shaking his head, "It's me. I just.. need some time to cool my head right now-"
You wrap your arms around his back and feel the way his muscles tense under your touch when you press your body closer. "You can talk to me about it, I don't mind" you mutter, "I.. I get worried when you stay too quiet and don't even look at me"
Xavier turns around, his hand reaching up to cup your face, "I'm sorry" he mumbles, his eyes finally looking familiar again, his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, his voice softer than before "I didn't mean to hurt you with my words and I didn't mean to get this angry. It was stupid of me-"
"I'm all yours" you interrupt him, nuzzling your face into his palm, "And you are all I ever think about, don't forget that. No one's ever going to change that, and I'll make sure to keep telling you until you realize how madly in love with you I am."
The breath he lets out sounds like he has been holding it for a while; Xavier's ears turn pink and you watch how a fluster fills up his face, "I also don't want anyone else but you," he says quietly, "And I will always choose you. I'm sorry for hurting you."
Your stomach flutters and you reach your hands up to pull him down by the drawstrings of his hoodie, closing the distance between you two until his face is just right in front of yours, "What can I do to make you stop looking this guilty, hm? Tell me how I can repay you, and you'll have all of me."
"..Please kiss me."
Your lips find his without a second thought. Xavier parts his lips and invites you in, swipes his tongue across your lips as he deepens the kiss and pulls you even closer. You call feel his warmth as it engulfs you, his lips making sure to tell you how much his heart beats for you, and you only. He tastes sweet, which is confusing, considering the desserts haven't even been touched at all; and if this is how sweet he is, then there's no need for any pastries tonight when you can have all of him instead.
"More," he mumbles, his voice raspy as his arms wrap around you to keep you just where he wants you to be: right in his arms, with not an inch of space keeping you away from him, "I want more."
And there's no way you are going to refuse him when he's asking you so nicely now, aren't you?
You wake up slowly, still half-lost in that hazy space between sleep and reality, because something feels way too good.
There’s steady pressure between your legs — slow, lazy strokes that make your hips twitch before your brain even catches up.
“Xavier…?” you mumble, voice thick and raspy.
“Shh, go back to sleep, starlight,” he murmurs against the back of your neck, his body warm and solid wrapped around you from behind. His hand is already under the sheets, two fingers circling your clit in unhurried loops.
“What are you— oh fuck—” The words die in your throat as he slips those fingers lower and curls them perfectly inside you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl instantly.
“You were making the sweetest little sounds in your sleep,” he says quietly, voice still rough with drowsiness. “Grinding back against me, moaning my name… figured I’d help you out.”
His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing slow, perfect circles while his fingers keep that lazy rhythm. You’re already soaked — embarrassingly wet, like you’ve been dripping for a while.
“How long have you been…?”
“About twenty minutes,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You were so fucking wet, baby. Soaked through your panties. Couldn’t help myself.”
The thought of him touching you while you slept, watching your body react, learning exactly what makes you whimper — it sends a fresh rush of heat through you.
“Xavier… feels so good—”
You’re already close, still sensitive from whatever you were dreaming about. But then his pace shifts. The lazy strokes turn purposeful, intense. He adds a third finger, stretching you open as the rhythm gets rougher, deeper.
“Oh shit— Xavier—”
“I know, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”
He kicks the blankets off with his foot, cool morning air hitting your bare skin. His hand grips the thigh that’s on top and hooks it back over his hip, spreading you wide open.
“Fuck… that’s better,” he groans. “Now I can see everything. Look how pretty this pussy is, dripping all over my fingers.”
The wet, squelching sounds fill the quiet room as he pumps his fingers harder, curling them just right. Every stroke makes your breath hitch.
“Right there?” he asks, voice dropping lower, hungrier. “Yeah? You’re clenching so fucking tight around me. Gonna make a mess, aren’t you?”
“Yes—god, don’t stop—”
“Never.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, rubbing faster. “Come on, starlight. Soak my hand. You know I love when you let go for me.”
Your leg trembles where it’s draped over his hip. The pressure builds fast and sharp.
“Xavier— I’m gonna— oh fuck—”
“That’s it. Give it to me.”
His fingers curl viciously and you break — a sharp cry ripping out of you as you squirt hard, clear fluid gushing over his hand and soaking the sheets beneath you.
“Fuck yes,” Xavier groans, low and appreciative, still pumping slowly through it. “Love watching you squirt for me, baby.”
But he doesn’t stop. His fingers keep moving, dragging out every aftershock until you’re shaking and whimpering.
“Xavier— too much—”
“One more. You can give me one more,” he says, voice calm but commanding. He knows your body too well. “C’mon… drench the bed for me.”
He shifts the angle just a little and you’re gone again — gushing even harder this time, screaming his name as another wave crashes through you.
“Good girl… that’s my good fucking girl,” he murmurs, finally slowing his fingers to gentle strokes while you tremble through the aftershocks.
When he finally pulls his hand away, his fingers are drenched, strings of your release dripping down his wrist. You watch, dazed, as he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, eyes dark with lust.
“Best fucking taste in the world,” he mutters.
Then you feel it — his cock, rock hard and pressing insistently against your ass through his sleep pants.
“Xavier…” Your hand reaches back, palming him. He’s leaking already, a wet spot spreading across the fabric.
“Can you blame me?” He grinds against your palm. “Just made you squirt twice. Got me so fucking hard.”
You don’t even think twice. You shove his pants down and he helps, kicking them off. “Then fuck me. Want your cock.”
“Greedy this early?” he chuckles, but he’s already lining up. He slides into you in one smooth thrust, both of you moaning at the tight, wet heat.
“Fuck… still so tight,” he groans, gripping your thigh tighter to keep you spread open. “Even after all that. This pussy was made for me.”
His other hand slides up to wrap loosely around your throat — not squeezing hard, just possessive — as he starts fucking you deeper, harder.
“Yes— harder—” you gasp, already climbing again even though you’re oversensitive.
“Want one more out of you,” he growls against your ear, hips snapping forward. “Want to feel you squirt on my cock this time.”
His fingers find your clit again, rubbing rough circles while his cock drags against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. The sounds are filthy — wet slaps, your desperate moans, his low grunts.
“Xavier— gonna— fuck—”
“Do it. Squirt all over my cock, starlight. Make a mess for me.”
You shatter with a broken scream, gushing around him as he keeps pounding through it, soaking both of you and the already ruined sheets.
“Fuck— that’s it—” Xavier’s rhythm stutters. “Gonna fill you up— gonna—”
He buries himself deep with a low groan, cock pulsing as he cums hard, flooding you with hot, thick spurts.
For a long moment you both just lie there, breathing hard, bodies sticky and spent. The bed is an absolute wreck beneath you.
He presses slow, lazy kisses along your shoulder and the back of your neck, still buried inside you.
“Give me ten minutes,” he murmurs, voice warm against your skin.
You let out a tired, breathless laugh. “You’re insatiable.”
His smile curves against your neck. “Only for you.”
The End 🤍✨
Y'all can really see my own kinks on my works lmao. I'm trying to explore and try more 😭 I also almost got caught in a science competition earlier. "I like how you write, it feels like a story" I ALMOST SHAT MYSELF.
dividers: @/cafekitsune
thinking about coming home from a hunters association gala or something and xavier had been complimenting you all night making you blush but never crossing the line and then he’s laying in bed and you walk out of the restroom hair messy and in an old t shirt and shorts and he immediately pops a boner and can’t keep his hands off you and is pinning you beneath him and pushing your shirt up and leaving marks alllll over your chest and torso <3
A Protocore throws you and Xavier two years into the future. You end up on his balcony. Your future selves end up against the glass door 😏.
CW: Smut. Jealousy. P in V 🔞MDNI🔞
Huge thanks to @stardustsirens for helping me with this series! 🧡🧡🧡
Caleb's part here
"Please tell me that's the last one"
The air reeked of burned grass and dead wanderers. You let out a long breath and let your shoulders drop as the last Wanderer dissolved into light that flickered once and went dark.
A few paces away, Xavier had a few hair strands stuck to his forehead and a thin sheen of sweat at his throat, and that was the extent of the damage. Meanwhile you looked like you'd been dragged behind a truck.
"Perimeter's clear," he said, quiet, like nothing in the world could rattle him. He crossed the debris toward you, boots crunching over glass and rubble. "You're bleeding, though."
You looked down. A chunk of crystal debris had opened a gash along your calf and you hadn't even noticed.
"Huh. Didn't feel that happen."
"Let me look at it." He dropped to one knee, taking a bandage roll out of your hands before you'd even fully pulled it from your pouch.
His hands were warm. Warmer than it made sense, given the cold. When he folded the torn fabric of your pants back to get at the wound, his fingers grazed bare skin and something jumped straight up your spine. You bit down on the inside of your cheek so you wouldn't make a sound about it.
This was the problem with Xavier. Some days he fell asleep against your shoulder like it was the safest place in the world. Other days he kept a careful distance between you and answered everything in a polite, unreadable tone, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.
"Does that hurt?" his thumb pressed against the unbroken skin just above it — the touch was not necessary to wrap the bandage.
"A little," you said, watching the top of his head, how the moonlight caught the color of his hair. "Xavier. Can I ask you something?"
His hands didn't stop moving, but his shoulders went still. "Yeah."
"Why do you do this?" You asked flatly, too tired to dress it up. "Sometimes I think we’re... I don't know, really close. And then other times, you look at me like I'm just another Hunter from the Association. It's confusing."
He finished tying off the gauze, stood up and finally looked at you "I just think about things. More than I probably should."
He reached out to help you up, hands closing firm around your forearms.
"Think about what?"
You went to test your weight on the bandaged leg and the ground chose that second to be uneven. You pitched forward, right into him, your chest hitting his. His hands slid from your arms to your waist to catch you.
Neither of you moved.
You could feel his heart going fast under his uniform, which didn't match the calm on his face at all. His eyes dropped to your mouth, came back up.This is happening, you thought, a little dizzy with it. He's actually going to—.
His grip on your waist tightened. Something cracked open behind his eyes, just for a second "You shouldn't stand this close to me"
"Xavier—"
He stepped back before you could get anything else out.
Crunch. Something snapped under his boot.
A white protocore.
He picked it and it suddenly went off with light, a white light expanding outward faster than you could track. The air got sucked straight out of your lungs. Your ears popped hard enough to hurt, and then the ruins, the sky, and everything else was sucked into a roar of wind that yanked you forward like the world had grabbed you by the throat.
You hit something solid and warm.
"Oof — sorry —"
A grunt came from underneath you. You blinked against sudden dark, hands slapping down flat against Xavier's chest. You were sprawled on top of him, legs tangled, face mashed against his neck.
"Oh my god." You scrambled back so fast you scraped your palms on the floor. "Sorry — are you okay?"
Xavier sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, hair falling into his eyes. "Fine. Are you hurt?"
"No, I— " You stopped. Looked around. "Wait."
You weren't standing in the ruins anymore. You were standing on a balcony with black wrought iron railing and a view of city streets that looked oddly familiar.
"Is this our building?" You turned in a slow circle, "Xavier, did you just teleport us home?"
"I didn't teleport us anywhere."
"You definitely did something..."
"I didn't" He was already moving past you toward the railing, scanning it like it might answer a question you hadn't asked yet.
"Okay, well, something got us here," you said, following him. "So if it wasn't you, what was it?"
He didn't answer right away. He crouched by one of the plants, fingers brushing the soil. Damp. Recently turned. "I don't have an explanation for this."
"When did you get so many plants?."
He moved to a small table near, where two mugs sat, both used, one rimmed faintly with lipstick.
"This is kind of freaking me out."
You spotted a newspaper folded beside the mugs and reached for it before he could stop you.
The date on the header didn't make sense. You read it twice.
"Xavier." You held it out to him, throat tight.
He took it, scanning it fast, and for the first time all night something like real alarm broke through his usual calm. "This is two years out."
"Two years." You said it slow, testing the weight of it. "Okay. We're just —somewhere else. Somewhere with your exact view, which is a really specific coincidence, but fine, sure, this is wrong, so so wrong—"
"Calm down."
"Xavier."
"What."
You pointed, wordless, toward the far corner of the balcony, where a lumpy, badly painted bird feeder hung crooked from its hook, one wing chipped clean off. You'd have known it anywhere.
"That's Fatso"s" you said.
Xavier followed your finger, and whatever he'd been telling himself died on his face.
You grabbed for your communicator on reflex. Dead screen. "No signal," you said, more to yourself than to him.
"Mine's the same. Clock's not even holding steady." He pocketed the device "We need to see what's inside. If someone's living here, we ask them what year it is."
"Oh yeah because that is a completely normal question to walk in and ask a stranger."
"Stay behind me," he reached for the handle on the sliding glass door, testing the weight of it without committing to opening it yet. Behind the curtain, something moved.
You froze. Your fingers found the sleeve of his uniform and held on.
A hand pressed flat against the glass from the other side of the curtain, fingers spread.
Xavier looked ready to run.
A second hand appeared beside it. Bigger. Scarred across the knuckles. Something in your chest went cold with recognition even before your brain caught up. The second hand moved to close over the first, fingers lacing through.
There were two people on the other side of that door. And from the way the curtain was moving, they were not just standing there.
"Xavier," you whispered, barely any air behind it at all.
He didn't answer. He didn't move his hand off the door either —just stood there frozen, staring at those hands through the glass like his whole nervous system had collapsed.
Then he moved. His hand closed around your shoulder and pulled, one smooth backward motion that tucked you both into a narrow space where the balcony wall met the building's outer brick. The spot was tight —barely enough room for two people to stand without touching —and the angle it gave you was merciless. The glass door sat directly in your line of sight, lit from inside.
You should have looked away immediately.
But you didn't.
The curtains moved a bit. Two bodies, pressed close. The woman's face was hidden, her head tipped back behind the line of the man's shoulder. His face was visible. Hair catching the light. That jaw.
Xavier
The anger came fast and hot and settled behind your sternum like coal. Months of warmth and then distance. Months of patience that felt like it was always just about to become something and never did —and here was the answer to all of it, pressed against a glass door in an apartment that was still his, two years from now, with someone else.
He was kissing her the way someone kisses when they've stopped being careful about it. Deep, his hands dragging her back against him, the movements of his lower body slow and unmistakable.
You looked away. Focused on a crack running through the middle of the wall beside you. Breathed through your nose.
Beside you, Xavier was still looking. His face was flushed.
"Is that—" His voice came out wrong.
"Yup," you said. The bitterness in it sharper than you'd intended. "That's you"
A sound came through the glass.
The impact of skin against the glass door followed immediately by a broken moan, the sound dragged your eyes back to the glass door against your will.
The curtain had been pulled aside all the way.
The view was now unobstructed.
The woman was pressed flat against the glass, her bare breasts against the cold pane, her hands finding the frame for something to hold onto. Her face was fully visible now.
The anger in your chest went out like a light.
It was your face.
Your shoulders, your hands, the sound of your own voice coming through the glass in pieces, breathless and nothing like anything you'd heard from yourself before. Your future self's cheek was pressed to the glass too, eyes half closed, lips parted around sounds that weren't words.
Future Xavier's teeth found her shoulder and bit down, not gently, leaving something that would be visible tomorrow. His hand came around the front of her, sliding between her thighs to line his beautiful cock against her entrance.
Then he drove forward.
The sound she made came through the glass loud and clear and a small involuntary noise started building in your own throat.
Xavier's palm came over your mouth.
Fast. Firm. His fingers sealing the sound in before it could escape. His hand was shaking.
The glass door shook with the next impact. And the next.
Xavier had his mouth at her ear saying something you couldn't hear through the glass but could read in the way her expression changed when he said it.
Xavier made half a sound against the back of your head and he immediately swallowed the other half.
You felt it anyway. Felt the way his arm tightened across your chest, felt the unsteady rhythm of his breathing where his chest pressed into your back.
You couldn't look away from his face —the future version of the face that was currently breathing against your temple— wearing an expression you'd never seen on him before.
"Xavier," you said, against his palm. Muffled.
His arm tightened.
"Xavier." Louder this time, enough that he could feel the shape of his name against his hand.
His mouth dropped to your ear "Don't move." The words came out rough "If they see us—"
Inside the apartment, your future self pressed her palm hard against her lips.
Future Xavier's hand closed around her wrist.
He pulled it down. He held her hand at her side and kept it there, and when she turned her face toward him he was already looking at her.
He wanted to hear her.
Below you a glass door scraped open.
One floor down, a man stepped out onto his balcony. Cigarette unlit between his fingers, head tilted slightly, listening to the night.
You pressed further into the shadow.
The rhythm inside the apartment changed. Not slower. The opposite. The glass shook in its frame and the sounds coming through it stopped being something that could be mistaken for anything else, and the man one floor down stopped trying to light his cigarette.
You looked at future Xavier's face.
His eyes were angled down and to the left.
He picked up the pace.
She tried again, her hand came up toward her mouth. Future Xavier caught her wrist without looking and his mouth moved against her ear again.
Whatever it was, she stopped trying to be quiet.
You thought about what you'd just watched him do. The escalation. The man on the balcony below. The reason your future self's hand kept getting pulled back down.
Was he jealous of that stranger?
Inside, her feet left the ground. Xavier had both arms around her, her arms caught under his, breast bouncing with every thrust.
You saw it first.
An unmistakable pressure beneath the surface of her stomach. Moving with every thrust. A belly bulge.
Your mouth went dry.
She was dripping. You could see it even through the glass —the inside of her thighs slick and glistening where his movements had worked everything down, coating her skin, catching the apartment light every time he pulled back. The glass had a faint fog to it from her breath, small clouds appearing and disappearing with each exhale.
The deep flush running from her chest to her throat made something in your lower stomach pull tight.
The Xavier beside you tracked every place her body responded to him, her hardened nipples, the way her toes curled against nothing, the flutter beneath her skin that mapped exactly where he was.
Crash
A flower pot.
It hit the floor and you both stopped breathing.
Inside the apartment, silence.
Immediate and total.
Through the glass you watched future Xavier's head come up. No panic in it. No confusion. Just a slow turn toward the sound, his eyes moving through the dark until they found the spot where the two of you were standing.
He couldn't see you. The angle was wrong, the shadow too deep.
He knew someone was there anyway.
His expression went cold and your future self said something against his chest. The curtain moved slowly across the glass from inside and the light behind it went out.
You had thirty seconds. Maybe less.
Xavier crouched beside you. The Protocore looked small against his palm, throwing a faint white pulse between his fingers for just a second.
The glass door began to slide open.
The air changed, the balcony, the broken pot, the man with his unlit cigarette, all of it collapsing into white noise and rushing dark.
You hit the ground hard. Your knees met broken stone, the air was knocked out of you on impact and you spent the first few seconds just existing on the ground.
Xavier landed beside you.
You pushed yourself up to sitting. "So..."
Xavier said nothing.
"That was weird."
Still nothing.
"We were—"
"I saw it" he opened his hand and noticed the Protocore was gone "I was standing right next to you."
"So we're both aware of what we watched."
"Yes."
"And we're not going to talk about it?"
He looked at you. "Are you going to be able to not talk about it?"
"Probably not."
He made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh, stood up and offered you a hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and didn't immediately let go.
"That man on the balcony," you said.
Xavier's jaw moved. "What about him."
"Future you saw him and then—"
"I know what he did." He dropped your hand. Turned to look at anything that wasn't your face. "You don't need to walk me through it."
"I'm just—" You pressed your lips together, trying very hard not to smile, it felt inappropriate and also completely unavoidable "Was he showing off?"
"We're not talking about that."
"Xavier—"
"Not yet." He said it quietly. Just a line in the ground, clearly drawn. "Not tonight. There's—" He exhaled. "There's a lot I need to sit with before I talk about any of it."
You nodded. That felt fair.
You started walking, picking your way back through the rubble toward the gap in the wall where you'd come in, and Xavier fell into step beside you like he always did —slightly behind, slightly to your left, a position that meant he could see everything around you before you could.
The walk back was quiet. You were almost at the gap in the wall when he spoke.
"Can I ask you something."
"Go ahead."
He was quiet for a beat. Just long enough that you glanced over at him.
"Future me?" he said. "Or me?"
You stopped walking. "What?"
"You heard me. Who do you like more?
"Xavier, that's not—you are the same person—"
"Future me is two years ahead and has information I don't have and he was doing—" a small pause, "—things to you that I have not yet done. So. Future me or me?"
You stared at him.
He stared back.
"That is the most ridiculous question you've ever asked me"
"Humor me."
"You"
Something in his face changed.
"Good," he said.
"But future you did have his—"
The not quite smile disappeared. "We're going home," he said, and turned toward the gap in the wall.
You followed him, and you were very glad he was walking ahead of you this time because the smile on your face was not something you were ready to explain.
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