Jelli’s Library

Sweetly Rotten 🥀 Xavier’s Crashout Princess 👸🏾 @LycheeJelliii on twitter | 20 WLW w/ an affinity for fictional men 18+

[lycheejelli]

Around this time last year I was going to WAR for Xavier to keep his title as #1 munch. The Sylus girlies were CONVINCED he had the crown.

But I stayed vigilant and waited. A year later and look where we are. No one questions who Xavier is and always has been. It was never a phase, it’s a lifestyle.

Victory is sweet.

[rafayelspet]

Forgive me but I must ask.....

How they would react if reader was drawing nsfw about THEM can be solo or like reader and them idk it makes me laugh thinking about it 😅

is this ... me ?

oooh hell yeah , we all know the lads would 100% rock us afterwards so no need for me to say it lol

tags : zayne , caleb , sylus , xavier , rafayel x reader (separate) , mention of mature content , MDNI

zayne

if zayne was to stumble upon your hidden NSFW drawings about him ? y'all, he is ending his work early that day to come home to you

like gentleman that he is, he'll keep his feelings boner in check and just wait patiently for you to open the can of worm first. there is a reason that you chose to hide it from him, and he will respect that boundary

but of course, he'll drop some clues here and there to encourage you to talk about your NSFW drawings ... of him

and once that topic is brought, you better take the day off tomorrow. because zayne is down bad and the fact that you fantasize about him only makes it ten times worse

he'll drop that gentleman act real quick. for the rest of the night, he's shameless, direct with his desires and very very needy. you won't find the doctor zayne anymore -- you'll have to wait until the next morning

caleb

we all know this man is going to jerk off to your NSFW drawings about you two first. he's shameless, using his imagination and yearning for you to get himself off

in fact, he's going to purposely let some of his cum stain the drawings, just so you know he has discovered this pile of gold and that he is purposely teasing you

like zayne, caleb wants you to come forward with the truth of your desires for them. but unlike zayne, caleb turns his longing into something more dark, more possessive, less controlled

he loves the roleplay of pushing your buttons until you beg him to fill you up. so if your drawings are the truth of your yearning for caleb, then he must hear it

and once you voice your needs, he ain't letting you go until every single drawing is reenacted

sylus

i believe that this man, out of all the lads, is a true menace. a real brat that was created to genuinely tease you until oblivion

he won't even hide the fact that he discovered your secrets, your interesting drawings ; he'll display them on the table while he sits prettily on the couch, a smug grin plastered on his face

once he sees you, tells you that there is something really important to talk about. it's a trap and there is no way that you can escape : once you sees what the important issue is, it's already too late

starts to tease you by saying just how shameless you can be, imagining and drawing him such erotic and filthy ways. then starts to go about how he's being such a bad boyfriend by not noticing how aroused and horny you were, how he has failed you by not giving into your desires

then jumps into the details : how you drew his cock, or his abs, or the sex position for you two. wants to hear you go into full details of how you imagined it, how you want him to fuck you, and why you kept it hidden from him

and of course, that question is another trap : the moment you try to explain why you kept it hidden, sylus already knows the 2 possible endings. either you wiggle your way out, completely submissive to his questionings, or you act all defensive and he finds it entirely adorable

in any case, he's bending you over the couch. you already know his aether core is acting up after seeing your NSFW drawings of him and you two together. you ain't leaving his hold until the hypnotizing red light in his eye dims down

xavier

you just made him the happiest man in the entire universe. you drew xavier and not lumiere ? you might as well just lay down and be ready

he's practically glowing with happiness, quite literally too. the moment you come home to him, you see orbs of lights floating around, the house is incredibly warm, soft and welcoming

you know what else is welcoming you ? xavier's cock, fully hard and ready to make love to you. because those drawings means you love and need him -- that's already enough for xavier

also the type to keep it secret just for him. in fact, you yourself won't be able to see those drawings ever again. it's his and his alone. he'll also demand that you draw more as gifts for him

also the type to fuck you while you are creating those NSFW drawings. goes fast when you are resting your hand, goes slow and deep when you are drawing the lines. then has the audacity to smirk while telling you to focus

rafayel

like sylus, he's obviously going to tease you. miss cutie is drawing him ? in such filthy way too ? oh, he's for sure admiring your skills, the details, the techniques

he's not letting go of this pleasant discovery too. you can expect rafayel to drop his current projects (unfortunately for thomas) and start painting NSFW of you and you two

he'll wait for you to ask him why he's painting such erotic graphics, and only then will he say : "since we have both become each other's muse, i only thought it fair that we use this inspiration to its full potential, cutie"

he'll keep his responses vague and constantly hinting at your NSFW drawings. he wants you to admit it so that he can finally act on his desires

the same way that he absolutely worships you, he wants you to be as obsessed too -- it's only fair and logical

also, he's definitely going to fuck you through the drawing and instructions process. not only is he going to start teaching you different techniques, but he's also going to coach you about the positions and your curves

think for example : your back pressed against his firm chest, his cock buried deep inside you, you're kneeling and rafayel's slender finger is circling your clit. at the same time, he's whispering against your damp skin : "see the way your arch so beautifully for me, cutie ? you need to draw add that detail in your drawing, baby", or "touch here. can you feel how deep i am ? what about your curves here ? you need to draw those too, cutie"

i'm so down bad y'all

[lycheejelli]

“you might as well just lay down and be ready” ?? CRYINGGG

[luhuala]

A painting

[princesspeachi3]

don’t i taste just like candy?

your first makeout session with him mdni. suggestive+nsfw content. wc: max 1.5k each <3

content: afab!reader/mc. xavier - almost getting caught+dry humping potential if you squint, rafayel - semi-public kissing+mc using raf’s thigh, zayne - mc taking the lead+pathetic, scared (in an erotic way) zayne who’s eager to follow, sylus - pollenated kissing+references to dirty dreams, caleb - mc being angry=hate-kissing+swearing+basically dry humping

a/n: this took too long to complete. and i wrote too much for each li despite this being my first multihc so what did i expect!! anyway, i hope you all enjoy, pls lmk what u think! this may just be the first and last time i do this LMAO. did my best to stay in character but yk. tell me. like should i never write another li again NJNSJNS (pls..i have a snowapplemc fic in the works. pls)

titled after: ‘candy’ by alyzée

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ xavier

You’re not meant to be doing this right now, not here at least. People are still around - and not just any people, but your own coworkers and higher ups. This is so incredibly wrong, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but falling into Xavier is something you’ve never been able to resist.

This time is even more precious though. There’s more of him you’re discovering. Of course, there’s the usual: his warmth, his softness but now there’s hints of roughness. Roughness that you should be discovering anywhere but here.

When he sighs into your mouth, you forget about your worries.

It was meant to be a late night at the Association for you. You’d planned to finish your report and hand it in today, even if it meant being the last one out of the office. You were almost there, there was just a few more pages left to fill in, but then another chair rolled up next to you and soon you were coaxed into taking a well-needed break.

Somehow, this break meant sitting in your boyfriend’s lap and kissing him like you’d never have the chance to again. At your workplace. His one too. The one where you share the same colleagues and report to similar higher ups and have to look at one another with a straight face after this.

It’s quiet in the office, it’s far too dark and there’s only the glow of a few hologram displays nearby that illuminate your knitted figures. Beyond the doors there’s voices, there’s meetings, and here you both are. 

Shivers run down your spine when his fingers skim over it, and heat plummets in you when you consider how close he is to you. This is all too much for your first time kissing him like this, but your hands thread through his soft locks anyway and his other hand grips onto your thigh for support when you tug.

And he’s— God, you can feel how much he loves this. It makes your head spin when you realise how far you’ve gone now, but Xavier’s there to keep you grounded. His fingers press into your back, his palm brushes up your thigh, finds the curve of your silhouette, and you whimper when his tongue meets yours.

It takes your absolute full strength to pull yourself away, your body begs to stay in his embrace, but you know you’re pushing it now. You clear your throat, eyes adjusting to the dark when you whisper, “Xavier, we— I’m not sure if—”

But the words are stuck in your throat when you gaze down at him. Serene blue eyes pierce through despite how heavy-lidded they are, you see the way his lips are coated in a mixture of you and him and his heartbeat can be heard over the cars and civilians bustling just outside.

It’s fast, it’s so unbelievably fast, and that’s all because of you.

Xavier’s chest is heaving, and alongside his heartbeat comes the sound of hushed pants pushing past slicked lips. You've got one arm braced on his shoulder, and he leans into your forearm, seeking your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, just to catch his breath, and finally his voice comes into focus.

“We can stop. I’ll follow your lead.” It comes out in a broken whisper, struggles to find its footing between a steady tone and sweet quietness, and that also sends heat pooling between your thighs. 

You see the eager shine in his eyes, the silent plea that restrains him, and God he’s too pretty. You don’t want to stop— you can’t. You lean back in, and he’s there. His hand stays firm on your back, your thighs keep him in place beneath you and only the sounds of strained whimpers, reverent sighs and chair squeaking float from your cubicle.

You’d started it, really. Xavier had simply stopped by to check in on you, give your mind a rest from battle jargon. He’d slipped you a small kiss, a promise of seeing you soon, but something took over you. You kissed back, a little harder, and he’d been more than keen to reciprocate. 

Tomorrow you’ll blame it on the atmosphere and the thrill of being caught.

No one could blame you though. Xavier had been so sweet and gentle with you thus far, but you knew you were approaching your breaking point. His presence was always too close for you to be able to ignore him - he was on your mind more often than not. Being left alone with thoughts of Xavier meant wondering about the sides of him you hadn’t seen yet.

When he bites on the plush of your lip, you’re grateful that today’s the day you finally get to learn so much more. When you whimper from the delirious sting, his palm kneads into the softness of your ass and coaxes another whimper out of you.

You’re about to whine, to ask him for more - you’re not even quite sure what that may be yet - but the sound of footsteps draw close and soon the door to the office is being opened.

Light breaks through and tears apart the harmonious blacks and blues previously streaked across the room. Heat dissipates from you, your head spins, but you’re alone in your chair now. Xavier’s neatly arranged you back onto your chair, spun you round the right way and hidden himself somewhere.

You make eye contact with the colleague who’s just walked in and give a quaint smile, trying to appear as though your heart rate was completely normal.

You think Xavier’s teleported, but when you roll your chair closer to your desk a hand places itself on your thigh. You jolt at the feeling, and thank the stars above that your colleague is busy at their own desk.

His touch kicks in some sort of survival instinct; you try to subtly re-arrange yourself. You pat down your clothes, glance at the reflection in the monitor and tame stray hairs. It’s probably too late for that, but anything is better than thinking about Xavier’s hand that is… far too close for you to be normal about.

A quick peer under your desk shows you a sight you’re not prepared for.

He’s not even looking at you. He’s not trying to. His eyes are fixated on his hand, the one that rests higher up than it has before. His cheeks are flushed, his ears burn red, and his chest rises and falls in quick succession. He’s beautifully dishevelled and the definition of bliss.

It takes him a moment to realise you’re watching him, and Xavier slowly glances up. There’s a flicker of surprise, like you’d stumbled across a private moment, but it morphs into the sweetest of smiles. One that speaks of innocence and carries a hint of guilt.

When you shut your legs in realisation, he flops his forehead against your knee. Your body jolts, and he places a small kiss in apology.

ଳ⋆˚࿔ rafayel

“You know, I really think it’s unnecessary for you to buy a new outfit everytime you get paint on your clothes.”

“What do you have in mind then, cutie?”

“I don’t know… Maybe try a washing machine, or hand washing them. Or having a set only for when you paint so it doesn’t matter if it gets a bit messy. Maybe even—“

There’s a zipping sound just past the curtain, accompanied by a flurry of movements. “In order to paint, I need to be just like my canvas. Completely clear, brand new, ready to be washed in colours. Besides, I think a certain someone enjoys these little shopping trips, wouldn’t you agree?”

You scoff and cross your arms, scrutinising the figure behind the curtain. Like always, Rafayel had dirtied another pristine white set of his and begged you to accompany him shopping. He should have been perfectly aware you’d be against the trip - it’s not like you bought a new uniform every time you fought a wanderer - but he’d only taunted you and said he’d happily buy you one each time if you asked.

You’d gone round and round in circles, never learning to not make eye contact with a pretty shirt or tailored pants hung on display. He’d always somehow catch on and immediately be adding the piece onto the forever growing pile of clothes in your arms. 

“Why is it that when we go shopping for you, I’m the one who has to carry stuff?” you’d asked.

“I’m too weak to carry them. I’m tired. Isn’t my bodyguard supposed to do this?” He’d replied, not without a flick to his forehead. 

He’s lucky he’s cute.

You have to press your lips into a thin line when you think about his infuriatingly teasing expression - you can’t reinforce this behaviour. It’s not been very long since you started dating, but you think Rafayel already knows his charms work too easily on you. 

“Prepared to be blown away, cutie?”

“Show me what you got.”

In all honesty, you’re not really prepared. He’s styled in a silky white blouse and crisp black trousers, and whilst it’s a colour scheme you’ve seen him in before you’re still getting used to how pretty he can be. The lavender hues of his hair are striking in contrast, the blues and pinks in his eyes beam at you - only ever for you - and blush lips spread into a stupid smirk.

He’s going to be the death of you, and he knows it.

Your eyes drift and catch onto the detailed embroidery neatly displayed on the blouse. A motif of seashells and foam trail over his shoulder, down his chest and wrap around his waist. You don’t remember picking this one, and you’re intrigued. 

“That’s… actually really nice on you.”

Rafayel shakes his head, and pouts at you. “Are you surprised?”

You can’t think clearly, too focused on the intricacies, so you step forward and your hands begin to trace over the embroidery. You skim over the bold print, and learn the neat stitches story. From top to bottom, you admire the little details in it. There’s tiny crabs that scuttle over, specks of fish that waft through and coral that dance beneath your fingertips.

A hand catches your wrist. When you look up from the embroidery, a blushing Rafayel fills your view. He’s looking away, another pout pressing into his lips, and your breath catches. You’re about to apologise, you didn’t realise just how in his space you were. It dawns on you then that you’d been touching him too, the thinness of the blouse hadn’t concerned you in the slightest, oh—

It happens quickly, and you’re disorientated for a second. He’s pulled you into the changing room with him, a small space made for one really. The curtain is drawn behind you, and Rafayel moves from gripping your wrist to lacing his fingers through yours.

His voice is hushed when he says, “If you wanted a feel, cutie, you could’ve just asked.”

You’re floundering through apologies, and he’s quick to shush you. There’s not much room for you here, and he knows it. He takes one—two steps towards you, and you naturally scuffle backwards. Soon your back is pressed against the wall, and Rafayel has you where he wants. His eyes flit between your eyes to your lips.

For the first time since you got here, it’s silent. There’s the bumbling of customers just outside the cubicle, and you can’t help but gulp at the intensity of his eyes. He’s watching you keenly, and you feel hot under his gaze. You’re about to open your mouth, another apology ready to be said, but he disrupts you.

It’s eerily gentle, the way in which he finally speaks. A soft whisper of “Please, can I?” is all it takes for you to abandon any concerns about his feelings. He’s more than fine, you realise.

His pink cheeks speak of want, his eyes sparkle with desire and you’re more than happy to apologise for invading his space with a soft kiss.

It’s wouldn’t be the first time, of course. You’ve kissed him plenty of times before, but something has you questioning if gentleness is all he wants today. You think it’s the lack of room, the way he’s hazily watching you, his open clavicle you’re suddenly too aware of.

The sound of conversation nearby reminds you that you’re in public - what if a worker walked in and questioned the two pairs of shoes peaking from under the curtain?

Still. You can’t deny him because you don’t want to. He’s asked so nicely too; it was rare for him to be polite. That’s the kind of behaviour you should be rewarding.

You respond with a chaste kiss, delicate and sweet as always. It dawns on you, though, that this was the wrong move. Your earlier intuition was right, because soon Rafayel’s hand is pinning your wrist low against the wall. His other hand latches onto your cheek, softly pressed into your skin, and you’re drowning in him. 

It takes a moment for your brain to reboot, but when you’re finally there it’s a quiet match filled with pleasurable sighs and hushed whimpers. He takes the lead and flourishes you in harsh kisses, and your hand struggles to not scrunch into his pretty blouse. 

When his tongue slides into yours, your brain short-circuits and you’re tugging him closer, harder, into you. You can feel him smirk into the kiss, and it sends a wave of lightheadedness floating through.

With each kiss, each pang of dizziness, comes the steady collection of slick between your legs, you gasp. It’s too soon to be feeling like this, yes this was a lot more of a passionate kiss than usual, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. You just hope he hasn’t caught on, because you’re more than aware that you’ll be endlessly teased by him.

He pulls away from you, and a string of saliva connects his lips to yours. He’s panting, and your knees buckle from the heavy look he gives you. You see how quickly Rafayel’s eyes flash with realisation, and he’s caught between a laugh and moan - a ragged sound that has you shuddering. You stare at him helplessly, borderline needy, and he’s nodding and catching you once more.

When he closes in on you again, he purrs into your ear, “I’ve got you, pretty baby.” Any sound you could make from the new name is muffled by his lips reaching yours again. His knee slots perfectly between your thighs, and a quiet moan manages to escape from you at the sudden pressure.

He kisses you again, and again, before pulling away once more.

“Is this okay?” Rafayel asks, and you want to laugh. Instead, you clumsily nod, and his thumb caresses your cheek. His voice is wrecked, his skin hot on yours, and the way he’s still watching you drives you crazy. You can’t help but buck against his knee, the undivided attention overwhelmingly delightful to you, and that…

Rafayel’s eyes flutter watching you. He can’t stay away anymore, and soon he’s back on you. He kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and commits each sound you make to his mind.

He’s definitely buying this shirt.

₊°｡❆ zayne

“Thanks for inviting me out, Zayne. Even if your taste in fusion cuisine is skewed, I had fun.”

“I feel like you’re teasing me. As I recall, someone was perfectly happy trying out my meal. I distinctly remember a few bites missing from my own plate each time I looked away.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Well. It sounds to me like someone doesn’t want a kiss goodbye.”

Zayne laughs, but you're stoic and refuse to break character. You look away and twist your body away from him too. There’s only so much space in the passenger seat though, so this is the most brutal move you can pull as he drives you home.

He calls your name a few times, and you still refuse to speak. It's only when his hand shifts from the gearstick to your thigh that you acknowledge him.

“I’m sorry. It seems I mistook you for a little mouse,” he says, mirthful eyes focused on your figure after pulling up to a traffic light.

You huff and nod earnestly. “That’s right. I would never take your food without asking. Especially not for something so… sweet.”

He smiles softly and moves his hand back onto the gearstick, driving off and closer to your home. It returns back to your thigh, and your hand clasps over it.

That is, until you hear a quiet, “And yet, everything on your plate was clear.”

When you pull his hand off your thigh and softly throw it elsewhere, he apologises endlessly as you refuse to engage.

It’s a quick drive, and you hate it. Even though he can be so mean, you want to spend every second with Zayne regardless. You miss him the moment you’re apart, and you’re not ready to feel that.

The universe clearly doesn’t care though, because the sight of your apartment building sends your heart dropping. You think he feels it too. The air chills ever so slightly, and there’s a lingering silence as the car finally stops. You turn to face him, heart panging when you catch his mournful expression.

“Thank you,” is all that comes from your mouth. If you say goodbye, then you have to leave, and you’re really not ready yet.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then Zayne’s leaning over the console towards you. His voice is full of quiet and wrapped in silk when he murmurs, “It doesn’t have to be a kiss-goodbye.”

“No? What should it be then.”

“…A kiss see-you-later.”

You laugh and he smiles with you, a little meek and pink. Your hands come up and cradle his cheeks, squishing them as your move his head side to side. He doesn’t resist, letting you coo and squeeze him as you please.

“You’re such a romantic. Fine, let’s have a ‘kiss see-you-later’ then.” Your eyes flutter shut as Zayne leans closer. His lips move against yours softly, and one hand come to rest at your nape.

The kiss is sweet, as it usually is. You’ve only ever known tenderness with him. It’s always been that way with Zayne though - his love is quiet but firm. His presence has always been soothing; he’s never been a problem in all the time you’ve known him, only a solution.

Perhaps that’s why tonight you want more.

You’re tentative at first, your hand rising and hesitating before finally settling on his tie. It wraps around the cloth as you feel Zayne about to move away. You know he’s about to ask what’s wrong, but courage takes over and you’re tugging him closer.

You hear surprise as he’s dragged into you. A sudden “mmph” breaks between the sound of slick lips moving together, and that… It’s a sound you’ll remember for the rest of your life. You’re not sure how you’ve ever been able to live without it before.

You want to hear so much more.

Your curiosity about the soft doctor wins, and encourages you to kiss harder, faster, rougher. And Zayne— he only struggles for a second. The change isn’t too much for him, not when he’s spent years fantasising about having you like this.

He’s beyond grateful that you’ve reached this point of comfort with him. After all, there’s nothing more that Zayne wants than to learn everything you like, and help you with whatever you need. Judging by the way your hand tightens against his tie, the quiet whimpers that escape when his tongue slips into your mouth, he understands that you’ve needed this for a while.

—At least he thinks he understands, because any sort of confidence Zayne had in taking the lead from you is banished when you suckle on his tongue, savouring honey and sage as you go. Your lungs burn for air, but you keep a steady pace at licking out any whimper or gasp you can from him.

You’re impressed with how he keeps up with you, he never once tries to pull away from your touch. Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head and you giggle when you feel the hot tip of his ear sear against your palm as you move past. Zayne simply squeezes his eyes shut, humiliation rolling in waves.

When you disconnect for some air, you finally get to see his flushed pink ears, the slack jaw that shallowly takes in each breath. His shirt’s crumpled from each drag of his tie, pulled taut from your desperation to melt into him, and yet he’s never looked so much like himself. Like Zayne was made to be used as you please.

He slowly gulps, eyebrows twitching as he tries to compose himself. “I—“ He inhales deeply, eyes flitting from your hand that still clutches onto his tie and back to your face. “…That—“

You groan as you slump back onto your seat, and it’s a mixture of pent-up energy and laughter. Zayne eyes you curiously, heart still racing and on edge as he anticipates - hopes for - your next pounce.

Your hand stays fiddling with the end of his tie.

“You’re so cute Dr. Zayne, did you know that?” There’s no earnest teasing or wide-eyed compliment that follows. Instead you watch him carefully, letting each syllable hit hard as they lazily drag past your lips.

You can’t help feeling smug when you see how baffled he is, all twitchy and red in the face.

After a moment of silence, he finally sighs and shakes his head. “You’re… relentless.”

“You’re just realising that?”

You lurch towards him, lips immediately finding his, and It feels deliriously good to be close to him again. For a brief moment, you’re mourning leaving the car - you’re not prepared to return to a life where Zayne isn’t kissing you rough and fast, just like this, but he moans when another whimper leaves you, and your brain short-circuits entirely.

Holy shit.

It’s what makes you jolt forward, your hips fighting against the rigidness of leather beneath you and eager for Zayne to be there instead. Your hand frantically skims on the underside of his tie, reaching the knot. It takes a little fiddling, but your fingers are soon digging in and prying the knot loose.

Everything shifts; your mixed pants grow heavier, needier, and even Zayne’s hands begin to lift and seek a place to clutch. The car’s windows fog, condensed entirely from keen whines and aching groans. Finally, fuck finally , your hands smooth over his burning skin beneath and—

Honk!

You jump away from one another as the sound blares from the car. Your eyes jump from Zayne to the car horn, and when you see his elbow hovering near it you can’t help bursting out laughing.

And Zayne… He’s entirely mortified. He feels the way his skin flushes, the sensation of blood rushing and pooling into his cheeks and ears - but watching you laugh in front of him helps. Perhaps that’s why he laughs with you too.

It takes a while for you both to calm down, the nerves of harsh kisses and loud horns still coursing adrenaline through your beings. Soon, a comforting ambiance of softened pants takes over.

Between shallow breaths, Zayne tries to calmly say, “That was— one way of having a kiss see-you-later.”

There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that tries to reason with you, and perhaps coyness should have visited you then, but the sight of the usually collected man before you panting and blushing with his clothes roughed by your very hands was enough to keep it away.

Instead your shoulders shake with laughter, and you shake your head.

“You really are too cute, Dr. Zayne,” you hum, and his ears somehow redden further. “Should I be worried though? Does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?

“On the contrary, I loved it.”

And you’re not sure, but from the look in his eye you have more than enough reason to spend the rest of your night overthinking that statement.

.ִֶָ ♱ ་༘࿐ sylus

You feel a tap against the back of your hand, the one that was busy scrounging into the fabric of your jeans as you rambled, and you look up.

His voice drips with sweetness, like it always does, when he says, “Take your time, sweetie. Try again.”

You turn your hands over, catching his fingers in your grasp and giving them a squeeze. You’re all too aware that your palm feels sweaty, but Sylus doesn’t pull away and you know he doesn’t care. He just wants to listen, like he always does.

“I—” One breath in, one breath out. “—kept dreaming of these, and you were always there in those dreams. I think it’s because I’ve seen a few of them when we’re out at night. It’s funny, the meaning of them isn’t exactly great but still, I thought you’d like them. I’ve actually been growing and tending them myself. For you.”

You lift his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth knuckles there before swapping your hand out for the bouquet of dark flowers. The veins of his hands pop against the pink silk bow tying the bunch together, and you squirm trying to gauge his reaction.

Sylus doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s focused on the flowers, and the adoration you’d seen him enter the room with is enhanced tenfold. There’s a sweet glow in the vermillion of his eyes, but the muscles beneath tense ever so slightly.

Perhaps they were too girlish? You cringe upon reflection, gaze fleeing towards the fireplace the two of you are sat before as you ponder. The big boss man who lords over the N109 Zone being gifted pretty flowers was maybe a little too ridiculous.

You rush to save the moment. “They’re called daturas. Apparently they symbolise power, caution and spiritual transformation. Obviously, the power and caution speak for themselves— I swear I didn’t just grow them because I thought they just looked nice. Mm, I guess the spiritual transformation doesn’t quite fit, but—“

His gruff laugh silences you, and the worries you had dissipate right before you. He’s smiling in his arrogant way once more, and you can’t find the stiffness previously etched in his muscles.

Perhaps you were simply in your head about it.

“My soul found yours and I finally felt peace. I’d say that’s rather fitting, wouldn’t you agree? In any case, I like cute things too. If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a sweet kitten staying at the Onychinus base.”

You can only blink at him with parted lips as his words wash over you. Trust Sylus to take your romantic moment and make it his own.

“So you like them?”

“I do. It’d be rude of me to dislike this bunch when my balcony is already overflowing with all the flowers you’ve brought over.” He tilts his head just behind, but it’s an unnecessary movement. The trails of flowers and the petals that can’t help but detach have been flowing in and out of the room the entire time you’ve been here.

You certainly have left your mark here.

Sylus’s gaze sweeps from you to the daturas still in his hand. He gently whispers, “After all, these ones were specifically tended to just for me,” before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

When you look up, you’re shrouded in him. You’re not sure when the two of you had moved closer together, but the enamoured look on his face has you leaning in for a kiss. You feel shy asking like this, no words exchanged, but he’s always telling you to go for what you want.

You hear him gently lay the flowers beside him before he scoops you onto his lap.

You shriek at the sudden movement, eyes jolting open, but Sylus pays no mind. His hand trails the dip of your waist, and your eyebrows scrunch together ever so slightly at the sudden confidence. You flit between either of his rouge eyes, noting the half-lidded expression, and your heart stutters.

The flames from his fireplace crinkle behind the two of you, and your knees dig into the plush of his rug as your body steadily settles on his lap.

His voiced is hushed, “Did you notice anything when you were caring for the daturas?” His breath fans over your skin, reaches past your neck and tickles the ends of your hairs. You’re on high alert, still adjusting to the sight of Sylus so close to you, and you jolt from the feeling.

His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly - a warning that falls on deaf ears, much like the futile question itself.

Each word was muffled in the haze of the warmth you now share, your mind too busy scrambling and desperately trying to find footing in this shift between the two of you.

Sylus watches you far too intensely the entire time.

Did anything happen? You knew they were toxic so you did your best to wear the necessary protection needed to tend to them. You were thorough in washing your hands after too. Sure, there were times you were somewhat dizzy and had to sit down, but that was all.

Honest.

When you still don’t respond, he continues, “They’re known to be hallucinogens.” His hand engulfs one of yours, dragging it to the curve of his cheek. Sylus presses his cheek into the soft of your palm, eyes fixated on you. “Even the smallest amount of pollen can have an effect. You mentioned dreams of them, and even said I was there.”

His head tilts, and the brush of his lips against sensitive skin tickles ever so slightly. There’s an edge of mirth in his voice when he whispers against your palm, “What were they like, sweetie?”

Ah.

It seems he may know a lot more about daturas than you did.

Residue from the petals you’d been caressing before his arrival sweep over his skin, melting between the point of contact between the two of you.

Your head spins.

On one hand, you’re glad that your keen eye meant you’d stumbled upon Sylus’s favourite flower. A part of you swells with pride at getting that right - they truly were a good gift then. On the other hand, you’re both stepping over a line that has only ever been treaded along. You know exactly what he’s asking, but the teasing tone in his voice tells you you can end this new game now if you’d like.

You’re… not sure if you want to.

A gust of wind billows from the balcony, and the once energetic fire is tamed. With the wind comes the scent of daturas that flutter around your figures. Your body reacts before your mind catches on, and you’re biting his lip between yours and drawing blood.

He groans into your mouth, and only then does a singular thought cut through - this is rougher than how you usually kiss him. You can’t quite remember what usually kissing Sylus means though, because roughly kissing him feels like it’s always been second nature.

Your mind fuzzes and swirls with notes of Sylus’ cologne and sour pollen. The heat of his lips never fades - he’s so warm and close and entirely yours if you’d like.

He meets your pace now, matches the brutality of your lips, and the room echoes of whimpers and groans. You pull on the softness of his hair, your other hand having snuck its way to the nape of his hair. He groans and grips tightly onto your waist, which only makes you gasp and jut forward.

You hear him grit his teeth, restraint oozes out of every fibre in his body, and that only makes you moan. Each brush of his lips and caress of his tongue drives you mad, like there’s a never-ending ache that can’t be satiated even with his touch. Not tonight, at least.

When you reluctantly pull away for air, Sylus huffs a laugh seeing the blooming crimson on your lips. It’s a scratchier sound than usual; his pupils are dilated beyond belief and the creeping realisation that you are the sole reason for his flushed skin sends your mind reeling.

You’re lost in the heat of your desire for him, you don’t think for a second, and suddenly you’re pushing him down. He admires you above him, memorises the way the light is consumed by your dark figure, and merely smirks.

Sat atop him, you snake one hand over his chest. You feel the thrum of his heart beneath your palm. When you slide your hand further up the curve of his neck, you feel the intense spike of his pulse. It dawns on you right then that his arrogance is all for show.

He’s just as lost in you.

Your plant your hands on either side of his head, the marble cool against your palms. You duck down and catch his bottom lip between your teeth once more, and Sylus works to keep up with you. You’re relentless, taking everything he can give you and more.

With each gasp and heavy breath comes the quick inhalation of daturas, and you fall into a never-ending cycle of consuming one another.

. ݁ ❦ ˖ caleb

You try not to sigh as Caleb keeps talking, it’s like he doesn’t even care about being somewhat alert tomorrow. For someone who loves to mention his position as Colonel, often as a meaningless scare-tactic to keep you from snooping where he thinks you shouldn’t, he really didn’t seem to care about actually maintaining the role.

“—And then there was that time you would not stop crying until your dear Caleb came back to you. You were so clingy, though I guess you still are, huh?”

You don’t bother tilting your chin up from the comfy spot you’ve found on his chest. There’s no point responding or making eye contact when he’ll just continue prattling about the old days - and trust, you liked reminiscing just as much as him! - but it’s 1am and you just want to sleep.

“Caleb.”

“Yeah, pips?”

“Go to sleep.”

He shuffles beneath you, jostling your leg that had been perfectly slung over his own thigh. You grumble as you mould yourself back into his side, trying to find the perfect angle in this cuddle pile you’d created.

Perhaps sleepovers in Skyhaven should be off the table until Caleb learns some etiquette.

You hear him tut, an offending sound that resonates in the crisp of his bedroom. You try not to roll your eyes, because you’re pretty sure you’ll hear a lecture about that if he so much as hears it.

If the tut wasn’t enough, he makes sure to heavily lay on the (fake) hurt when he mentions, “There was a time when you listened to my every word, you know. What happened to that?”

Your eyes roll anyway, and the dredge of sleep crawls back over you. “I genuinely have no idea where you’ve got that from.”

“Pips, I literally just told you about those times. Weren’t you listening?” Caleb says, and you can literally hear the pout in his voice. He shuffles again, and you grumble in response. “Okay, from the top! So, back then—“

Your head whips up and catches sight of an overly awake Caleb whose eyes dreamily stare at the ceiling. He’s happily chirping away, like the minutes on the alarm clock next to him mean fuck all.

You’re too grouchy for this.

There’s only a small bite to your words when you groan, “Oh my God, Caleb! Shut up!” Any hurt he could experience is immediately soothed over, because you’re dragging yourself upwards and planting your elbows on either side of him.

Your hands cradle his face as you press your lips against one cheek, then the other, his forehead, his nose and finally a sweet peck on his lips. You’re more than relieved when you pull back and see he’s been stunned into silence.

You put on your best stern expression, and squish his cheeks together. One pat, then another, and you think he’s finally gotten the hint, so you slither down to your cosy spot on his chest and rest your eyes.

…It’s a bit difficult to actually settle though when the person below you won’t shut the fuck up!

“Caleb.”

“Yeah, pips?”

And God, he’s actually smug— he’s not even trying to hide it. You grit your teeth when you realise he probably thinks he’s the smartest man in the world; annoy his partner enough and they’ll kiss him quiet, that’ll do it.

You sigh deeply as the realisation strikes you.

Apparently the dog tag wasn’t enough to satisfy his overeager, puppy-like behaviour clearly. It’s become very obvious to you now that Caleb may need some actual training.

So you push yourself up, rubbing the sleep out your eyes. There’s a bleary smirk wiped across his features, the dumbest, dopiest look ever that you can so easily distinguish in the dark of his room, and something simmers within you.

You don’t say anything as you move closer, you’re gentle with your movements and Caleb waits patiently. You settle your entire weight on him, pressing your torso flush against his, and his hands hesitate before naturally come to rest on your back.

You don’t react despite how intimate the position is. You’re too tired to feel embarrassed.

Sure, you’ve cuddled with Caleb plenty before, but this version is entirely different. Your hips are spread, legs parted and pressing into his side. You’re practically folded on top of him like this, and you recognise one shift could change the entire trajectory of your night.

It’s comfortable though, the stretch is more than pleasant and you moan a little from the sensation. You feel Caleb tense beneath you, and you feel triumphant.

He relaxes once you’re settled, no doubt revelling in the intimacy of the cuddle. He has no reason to question your motives when you dig your chin into his collarbone, sweetly resting your face in the crook of his neck. Instead, he softly laughs.

“I’m not sure if you realise, but my voice is only gonna seem louder if you’re higher up like this,” he teases.

You merely shake your head, keeping your voice light as you murmur, “I know. That’s okay, because you aren’t gonna talk anymore.”

“Is that so?” He juts his chin away, trying to get a look at you. “Why’s that?”

You raise your head, fluidly connecting your lips with his. You feel him smile into the kiss, no doubt feeling beyond loved with how soft and warm this all felt. He was so clever, of course he’d somehow outsmarted you and gotten what he wanted.

Right?

It’s abrupt the way in which you lunge; you tug at the bottom of his lip and take advantage of the gasp that escapes. He’s barely found a second to place a hand on your face when you’re immediately licking into his mouth, savouring mint and hot wetness as you slide your tongue along his.

Finally, his hands tremble on the nape of your neck, and you press yourself infinitely closer. The feel of warm, slick muscle and hushed breaths has you both moaning into one another - your head spins as you realise there are prettier sounds that can come from Caleb.

Before you can balance yourself to launch your next attack, Caleb takes the lead and suckles gently on your tongue. He’s confident suddenly; his once shaky hand resting comfortably and pulling you closer to him, an act you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling, unable to keep your whines at bay.

It’s filthy, the sounds of squelching and whimpering that resound has you scrambling to keep up. You refuse to let this become his moment - this was meant to be your punishment after all.

You clench onto the fabric of his shirt, a frantic move accompanied by your groans and his sighs. His hands stay infuriatingly polite, simply resting on the barest slither of skin available to him - but you know he wants more. You can practically feel his hands itching to at least press the pads of his fingers deeply into your skin.

To trace you, to breathe you in and consume you entirely is all Caleb wants. You’re more than aware of that - with memories of the old days comes the recognition of knowing you’d felt the same way too even back then. He’s always wanted you, and you him.

You hike your leg higher up in an attempt to stabilise yourself. Your knee drags against his waist and you feel him jerk from the change.

It’s a singular move that causes a sudden spiral because your heat rests against him entirely and— oh God, he was so big, wait—

“Pips– I—“ One kiss, another, you grip his hair and he moans into your mouth. “We should— Hah, we should— stop.” And really, it comes out weakly, a slurred command that has no precedent over when you decide this ends.

Could he feel your clit throbbing against his cock? Was he desperately trying to stop himself from rutting into you?

You rock gently, just once and ever so subtly between every flick of your tongue against his, and try not to grin when you feel the air knocked out of his lungs.

Poor Caleb, he must be losing his mind trying to restrain himself.

For a moment you pity him, but then his voice hums between kisses and logic suddenly kicks in. You can practically hear all the excuses he’d use to explain getting this far - it’s always you being too innocent, or not understanding what you’re doing.

The thought enrages you, and it’s enough to remind you why you’d started this in the first place.

There’s an itch inside of you that begs to continue, to ignore your dignity and use him as you please - you could prove him wrong, show him just how pissed off you are and satisfy your needs at the same time.

You really do want to do that.

Hm.

Caleb whispers your name, a sound that sends you into a realm beyond here with him.

And yet, somehow, you crawl right back.

You chirp a quick goodnight and scramble under the covers, turning away as you nestle into your side of the bed. You’ve barely caught your breath, but feeling the tenseness of Caleb beside you has you giggling and catching it back all at once.

“Night Colonel! See you after work.”

a/n: i forgot to add this here but pls plssss tell me if any of this was ok!! i hope it wasn’t too ooc ><

craving more from the peachieverse? select your next unique experience and let your heart rush with him.

[lycheejelli]

Did I reblog this before?? Who knows but I’m doing it again!

I genuinely love reading about the sweet firsts of a relationship. The tension is unmatched!!

[miscellaneous-misty]

I Do Adore

🌷 please have your age in bio byf!

🌷 summary: you tell the lads men you think you have a crush on them.

🌷 featuring: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, and caleb x fem!reader

🌷 tags: SFW, established relationship (married), fluff, nerdy doctor zayne, tsundere fishie, self-indulgent

🌷 notes: this was made for a request from anon. ty for the request! i hope you enjoy reading <3 i love when zayne talks all scientific and literal cuz i find it cute. the title is the same name as the song by mindy gledhill. the dividers are by @petalpxl.

🌷 link to masterlist

ty for reading! ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ | angel's blessings ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[lycheejelli]

“and I throw up too” made me cackle

[ceruleancattail]

On Repeat

Voice messages from you, that they are fond of repeating

Xavier

“I’ll be waiting for you, Xavier!”

A snippet of a voice note you sent him awhile ago, when both of you were assigned to a mission. Xavier’s cut out most of the message to suit his needs, but there’s something… reassuring knowing that you’re waiting for him. You’ll be right there, if he reaches out his hand.

It’s his alarm, your charming voice the only thing forcing his weary form out of bed again. You’re waiting for him. He can imagine your expression, still sleepy but grinning the moment you meet his eyes, waving at him-

Guess he better get going. See you soon, starlight.

Zayne

“I’m home… good night, Zayne.”

A habit that you’ve picked up after many anxious calls from Zayne’s part. After late night hangouts, or missions that drag on into the early night, Zayne can’t ever rest easy without knowing whether you’re at home. Safe. So you started sending him sleepy voice messages to reassure that giant worrier.

But what you don’t know is the fact that he’ll lie on his side, playing that message again and again to soothe the heart trembling within his chest.

You’re safe. At home, probably asleep. Thank goodness.

Rafayel

“I’ll miss you, Rafayel.”

His Magnus opus. His peak era. Rafayel damn near dropped off his ladder and landed face-full into his paint bucket the first time he received this message. It was after he informed you about some business trip, and you sent that in response.

Rafayel’s waited forever, for you. Over this lifetime and many others. He’s never once regretted loving you, but he honestly was never really sure what you felt. But this one voice message? Your lovely words, your beautiful voice saying that you miss him?????

He loves you. And, unlike a certain forgetful hunter, Rafayel would never keep you waiting.

Sylus

“Thank you… Sylus.”

A hesitant, almost shy thank you from your lips, after he stepped in to help you with something or another. He’s fond of listening to those words, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. Unlike the lip service others tend to pay him, this was sincere. A sincere, rather awkward gesture of gratitude for him.

Him and him alone. There’s a certain joy and pride in that, in being needed by his kitten, his beloved. His finger tends to curve, stroking your profile picture gently as those words replay in his ears.

Makes a dragon want to spoil you, darling.

Caleb

“See you! Same time tomorrow, Caleb!”

This message was sent after a hangout between both of you. He remembers winning you a big apple plushie, and the way you were clutching its little hands rather sadly when he walked you back home. If he had reached out then, held your hand instead… would you let him?

These thoughts haunt him, even now in Skyhaven. In this world above the clouds, full of routine and discipline, Caleb misses the carefree days when both of you ran through the town, laughing away. He misses you, even more than you know.

So he replays this message, dreaming of a tomorrow with you.

[calebsfavoriteusedthong]

WATERWORKS💦

CW: Smut. Oral. Squirting. Use of toys. They cum untouched. 🔞 MDNI🔞

Since my blog is already getting reported I might as well keep posting nasty smut 🤭.

Part 1: Rafayel/ Xavier

Next: Caleb/Zayne/ Sylus.

A ragged, choked sound escapes his throat, somewhere between a groan and a sob when you swat his hand away.

"Please, I can't... I need you," he gasps out. He reaches again, fingers twitching towards the pulse of his own arousal, desperate for even a second of relief, but you catch him mid motion again.

"Don't touch, Raf"

His jaw drops just a fraction. A flash of indignant, bratty frustration flickers in his eyes, but it’s instantly drowned by the hunger staring up at you. He looks wrecked.

There’s a hint of the ancient creature he truly is as he watches you settle back against the pillows. Slowly you spread your thighs to offer him the view he’s been starving for.

He lets out a choked noise and collapses to his knees. He hits the mattress with a heavy thud, his head dipping low until he’s hovering just inches from your cunt.

"Please..." he whimpers again. It’s such a pathetic sound coming from someone so devastatingly handsome.

When you hook two fingers into your folds, spreading yourself wide for him, he actually flinches. His breath hitches, a sharp intake of air that whistles through his teeth. He stares, mesmerized, watching the way you glisten in the dim light. Between his legs, his cock pulses visibly, weeping a bead of moisture that mirrors your own readiness. He looks like he might actually combust right there.

Then, you bring out the toy.

The soft, rhythmic hum of the small vibrator cuts through the silence of the room. His gaze tracks the movement of the device, his eyes darting from the buzzing plastic to the way your flesh reacts to the contact. He licks his lips, fighting the impulse to just dive in and devour you.

"You wanted me to use my toy, didn't you?" you tease, the vibration making your voice tremble just a little.

He lets out a breathless laugh, though there isn't a shred of humor in his eyes only a terrifying amount of want. He has to swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat.

"I did... I do," he confesses, his voice dropping into a honeyed register that vibrates deep in his chest. He might actually lose his fucking mind if he doesn't taste you soon. "Fuck, just look at you... so wet and ready. You're not making this easy, cutie. You're trying to kill me, aren't you? Just to see if a Lemurian can actually die of longing?"

He leans forward, his nose brushing against your clit, inhaling deeply.

"Let me," he pleads, his breath hot and damp against your sensitive skin. "Stop teasing and let me have you."

He’s trapped in a trance, his eyes glued to the way the plastic tip nudges and probes at your entrance, parting the slickness of your folds with agonizing precision.

When he finally breaks eye contact to look up at you, gone is the poised artist, in his place is a man stripped bare by desire, his eyes wide and shimmering with a desperate sort of prayer. He’s begging for permission, waiting for that single nod of approval that will allow him to descend into holy madness.

"I need to feel you cum on my tongue," the words catch in his throat. He sounds half starved. "Then maybe... maybe I can focus enough to watch you fuck yourself with your toy until you cum again."

When you press the humming weight directly against your clit, the reaction is instantaneous. Your spine snaps taut, back arching off the sheets in an involuntary spasm of pleasure. From his vantage point he sees everything, the way your push your breast together, the way your muscles ripple and quiver, and the helpless way your pussy clenches around empty air, searching for something to hold onto.

He loses the battle with his restraint. A groan rips from his chest as his hands fly to your thighs. His long, elegant fingers, usually so delicate when he holds a paintbrush, sink into your soft flesh with bruising force, anchoring you to the bed.

"Oh fuuuck, look at her..." he whispers against your inner thigh "So desperate for stimulation. You need something to fill her up, don't you, cutie?"

The filthiness of the comment is accidental, a byproduct of the fever raging in his blood but it hits exactly where it needs to.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He doesn’t have the patience for it.

The second you offer the toy to him, glistening with the heat of your body, he takes it into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, lapping up every trace of you.

His eyes flutter shut, head tilting back as he moans around the toy, his throat working as he swallows. The sheer bliss on his face is a mixture of agony and ecstasy, a Lemurian’s single minded devotion channeled into one singular, overwhelming act.

His playfulness vanishes, replaced by commanding strength.

His hands slide upward, abandoning your thighs to hook firmly into the meat of your ass. With a sudden, decisive tug, he hauls your hips forward, dragging your pussy flush against his face. He waits until you plunge the toy deep inside yourself, a wet, sliding sound that makes his eyes snap open, blown wide and glazed, before he dives in.

Your fingers tangle blindly in his soft hair, pulling him closer, demanding more, and he answers with a fervor that feels sinful. He follows your lead perfectly, his tongue sweeping broad and flat across your soaking slit before narrowing to a torturous swirl around your engorged clit. Between the relentless, mechanical hum of the toy and the wet flick of his tongue, the world starts to blur into a smear of static and heat. You’re teetering, precariously perched on the precipice of a total sensory meltdown.

"Raf... Oh... my... Just like that..." you choke out, the words barely recognizable.

He grins against your skin when he feels your walls flutter, clamping spasmodically around the vibrating intruder.

Then, he goes for the kill.

He latches onto your clit, suckling with demanding pressure, while simultaneously using his hand to shove the vibrator as deep as your anatomy will allow.

Your body goes rigid the moment you break. A warm rush of arousal gushes from you, a release that floods his mouth and splashes across his cheeks and chin, drenching him in your sweetness.

His eyes roll back into his head, showing only the whites in a moment of ecstatic delirium. His cock pulses, spurting thick, hot ropes of cum that splatter across the sheets.

Eventually, the tremors subside. Moving with a languid, post coital heaviness, Rafayel carefully slides the toy out of your still twitching core. He doesn't toss it away immediately, instead, he brings the slick device to his lips, reverently sucking the last lingering traces of you from the silicone before finally letting it clatter unceremoniously onto the floor.

You lie there, limbs heavy and brain turned to mush, staring at the ceiling. "Raf... that was... easily one of the best orgasms of my entire life" you breathe, your own voice sounding far away.

"Yeah," he mumbles "Mine too."

You blink, turning your head to look at him. "...What?"

A furious, crimson blush sweeps up his neck and floods his face, reaching the tips of his ears. He avoids your eyes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with a trembling hand.

"I said what I said!" he huffs "God, don't look at me like that! I came like a horny teenager just from eating you out. Pathetic, yeah?"

It took a heartbeat maybe two for the image to actually register in his brain. There you were, flushed and breathless, straddling a thick slab of silicone, the wet thwack of the toy meeting your skin echoed off the walls, a sound that should have been erotic but felt like a direct insult to his pride.

Every time you slid down, burying yourself deep, a fresh wave of irrational, stinging jealousy flared in his gut. Why was that object getting the best version of you? Why did it get to feel the pulse of your pussy clenching around it?

"You wanted to watch me use the toy," you managed to pant out, your voice strained and heady with heat. "I'm doing exactly what you asked..."

Xavier didn't speak, he couldn't. His jaw was clamped shut so tight it ached, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the mattress. Watching the way your muscles bunched and released, it was too beautiful. Too frustratingly not him.

"Holy fuck..." The whisper escaped him, ragged and stripped of all that usual composed grace.

"Xavie... I'm gonna cum."

In his mind, he saw it happening the way your eyes would roll back, the way your body would go taut and spill itself all over that plastic toy. And suddenly, he couldn't stand another second of being a spectator. Being sidelined in his own damn room.

Before you could finish the descent, he moved. Large, calloused hands clamped onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave a mark. With one forceful yank, he hauled you off the toy, breaking the suction with a wet pop that made his blood roar in his ears.

He tumbled you backward onto the mattress, his body following yours instantly, caging you in.

"No... you're not," his eyes were burning with a terrifying sort of focus. "Don't you dare give that feeling to anything else. Not on that thing. You have me right here."

Your laugh was airy, half delirious from the sudden loss of friction "You know... that thing can make me cum in a minute, flat.”

A lopsided smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned down, his nose brushing yours, his scent, something clean like rain and expensive cashmere, flooding your senses.

"Fifty nine seconds, bunny," he promised as his hand slid down to find exactly where you were already aching. "Watch me."

There was no gentleness in the way he took you. Gentleness was for the daylight hours, for the moments when he was pretending to be just your coworker. Right now? He was hungry.

His hands forced your legs open "Let me eat, my star" he murmured against your skin before he descended.

When his tongue first made contact, dragging a slow, deliberate stripe from the bottom of your slit upward, you nearly jumped off the bed.

"Oh god, Xavie!"

The moment he found your clit the world outside his bedroom ceased to exist. There was no Linkon City, no Wanderers, no looming shadows of a forgotten past. There was only the weight of his hands and the pressure of his lips. When he finally took you in, sucking firmly, drawing you deep into the warmth of his mouth, your brain simply short circuited.

It was as if he knew the exact topography of your pleasure, every nerve ending mapped out in his mind.

Your vision fractured into white sparks, dancing behind your eyelids as he intensified the assault.

His hands moved, palms slapping against the underside of your cheeks before his fingers dug deep into your ass, hauling your hips downward. He needed you closer. He wanted to drown out the rest of the world and replace every sensation you’ve ever known with the rhythm of his tongue and the weight of his devotion.

As you bucked blindly, your hips searching for a friction that was driving you toward the precipice, Xavier felt himself coming undone. His cock was rock hard between his thighs, weeping pre cum against his underwear, jerking in sync with the tremors racking your body.

He was chasing your peak, determined to hunt it down and capture it, because as long as you were screaming his name, he knew that you weren't thinking about anyone else. 

Without a single word of warning, his fingers long and steady plunged deep into your center. Curling. Perfect.

He found that spot, hooking his finger with calculated pressure that sent a lightning bolt straight to your brain. He groaned directly against your swollen clit and it was the final shove you needed. The cliff disappeared, replaced by a plummet into pure ecstasy.

"Oh my god, yes!"

Your hands moved to his hair, anchoring yourself to earth, knuckles white as you gripped his locks, oblivious to whether you were being too rough. In that moment you didn't care.

His fingers kept moving, stroking that perfect spot over and over again until slickness gushed forth, coating his lips and soaking the tangled sheets beneath you in a warm, heady rush.

That was the thing that broke him. The taste, the wet heat, the way you moaned his name over and over again, it all crashed together. His hips bucked once against the mattress, then again, and thick ropes of cum pulsed out into his pants without a single touch. Sticky warmth spread fast, clinging to his skin, making the fabric heavy and uncomfortable. "Fuck," he gasped, voice cracking a little with surprise because this wasn't the plan. Not at all.

You wiped a stray tear of pleasure from your eye, a tired but triumphant smirk dancing on your lips. Despite the fact that your limbs felt like jelly, you couldn't resist. "That was definitely more than a minute, Xav"

He lifted his head slowly, hair messy from your grip, eyes still hazy but sharp when they caught yours.

"Yeah, well," he countered, leaning in to nip playfully at your inner thigh, his grin widening. "I made you squirt all over my face. That counts as an extra point, doesn't it? So, mathematically speaking..." He paused, pressing a lingering, heated kiss to your clit "... I win."

Tags: @remnantsofgildedcages

[starkissedxav]

you don’t want kids, xavier just wants you

a/n: hi hi this is a self indulgent drabble bc i haven’t seen much for readers who don’t want kids :P i was debating posting but maybe it’ll resonate w someone idk , i hope i guys enjoy :3

wc: 1.4k | masterlist

“I need to talk to you,” you picked at the skin around your fingernails, hoping he didn’t see the shake in your hands. Your heart pounded in your chest as Xavier sat down next to you.

“Is this because I lost your favorite spoon?” He blurts out immediately, mind racing as soon as the words leave your mouth. He thought of every possibility, scouring his brain as to what could be wrong.

“You lost it? I thought- No, that’s not what I wanna talk to you about,” you breathed out, running your hands through your hair before taking a deep breath and looking at him. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I feel like sooner is better than later-”

“My star,” Xavier’s voice shakes, his eyes widening with every passing second as his mind jumps to the worst conclusions. He forces himself to stay quiet when you give him a pleading look.

“I really love you Xavier, and I want to spend forever with you,” the words help quell the pain in his chest, brows furrowing when you bite your bottom lip and compose yourself before continuing. “We never talked about this and I just- I’m sorry for not saying it earlier but I don’t want kids.”

You gather the courage to meet his gaze, stomach falling when he stares back at you with furrowed brows and the slightest pout on his lips.Usually you'd be able to read his expression, but your frazzled mind doesn't let you interpret his reaction. 

“You don’t want kids,” he repeats, you nod slowly, wiping your sweaty hands on the material of your shorts.

“I’ve never wanted them, and I never will. I don’t know where you stand on it but I know it’s a dealbreaker for some,” you mumble, trying to hide how nervous you felt; trying to hide the fear of losing the love of your life over this.

“Okay,” he says simply, “is that everything?”

You stare at him for a moment before nodding. Xavier smiles at you, places a kiss to your worried face before handing you the bowl of popcorn.

“Did you still wanna start with the romcom?”

You take a second to orient yourself, gathering your thoughts before hesitantly nodding and clearing your throat.“Uh yeah, romcom is good.”

You don’t see Xavier at work the next morning. Panic rises in your chest with every passing second, glancing at your phone an embarrassing number of times in hopes he replied to your good morning message. 

“You okay? You’re looking really pale,” Tara whispers, concern brewing in her eyes as you stare back at her, a tight smile on your lips. 

“I’m fine,” you reply dryly, glancing at your phone once again, nothing. Your stomach churns, wasn’t Xavier better than this? Hadn’t the two of you grown past not telling each other how the other felt?

“Maybe you should go to the doctor, you might have what Xavier has,” at Tara’s words your head whips up to her, eyes wide. She flinches slightly at your sudden movement, “he called out sick today for a doctor's appointment, so maybe you guys got food poisoning or something?”

“How do you even know that?” You shake your head, a semblance of a smile on your lips as Tara hugs you. 

“People talk, I just listen,” she shrugs, “just tell Jenna you don’t feel good, I’m sure she’ll let you leave.” 

You tried to ignore the ache in your chest, tried to pretend you didn’t care about Xavier’s lack of communication. Your futures weren’t aligned, it’s nobody’s fault. The cursor blinked in front of your face as the words settled under your skin, throat tightening as you ruminated on them.

It wasn’t meant to be.

The lump in your throat grew with every flashing memory in your mind. The nights you’d spend yearning for him, the times he’d bought you takeout, the days off you’d spent together, late night movies, the bouts of jealousy. 

You’re not sure when you left the building, only hazily remembering clocking out and speaking to Jenna. Aa you stood in front of the all too familiar door, your confidence wavered. 

Before you could backtrack, your fist connects with the door three times. If it was going to end, you would be the one to do it, you were not going to get ghosted like this. 

You don’t hear any movement for a couple seconds, your shoulders deflate and you’re about to turn on your heel when the door finally swings open. 

Xavier looks… disheveled to say the least. His hair is messy, decked out in a hoodie and a pair of loose shorts you’d never seen before. His left hand holds a bag of frozen peas over his manhood. You force yourself to not stare. 

“Y/N,” his eyes widened, glancing down before meeting your eyes. You’re quiet for a second, unsure where to begin as you shift your weight from one leg to the other. 

“You weren’t at work and you didn’t reply to my text,” you say quietly, embarrassed at how vulnerable you sounded. Xavier waddles to the side, opening the door further and inviting you inside his home. You walk inside, chewing the inside of your cheek as his face grows flushed. 

“I was going to just tell you once I was fully healed,” he says simply, face even more red than before, shifting uncomfortably before turning away from you. 

“Tell me what? I told you I don’t want kids and then you ghost me and now you’re- what hiding injuries from me?” Your tone comes out sharper than you intend, tears pricking your eyes out of both frustration and sadness. 

“I got a vasectomy,” he rushes out, already seeing the cogs in your head turning towards the worst outcome possible. 

“You-?” For a moment you think he’s joking, a cruel prank before he tells you it wasn’t going to work out. Your eyes hold his sapphire ones, gleaming like they always did when he looked at you, like you held the world within you.

“You said you don’t want kids, so I got one for… us?” He cocks his a to the side on the last word, thinking for a second before nodding and looking at you again. 

“But what if we break up? Or what if you regret it or-” your mind raced at the endless forms of resentment that could build up in the case this doesn’t work out for reasons neither of you could plan for.

“My star, you’re the only thing I want in this world, in this life and the next it’ll always only be you.” Xavier’s gentle voice cuts through the bitter thoughts poisoning your mind. Your teary eyes look at him once more, his pink dusted cheeks, messy hair and saccharine smile. 

You move without thinking, throwing your arms around him with so much force he stumbles backwards, instinctively wrapping his arms around you to keep you as close to him as possible. “Xavier,” you whisper into his neck, failing to blink back tears as you squeeze him in your grasp. “I love you so much,” you breathe out, sniffling softly as he giggles quietly. 

“And I love you, more than you can imagine,” the sincerity of his words only makes your grip on him tighten, eyes screwing shut as you let your thoughts evaporate. 

No, this was always meant to be. It was written in the stars, Xavier had gone up there himself to ensure it.

A week and a half later when Xavier lays with you, his bare chest pressed against your flushed and sweaty skin, he smiles. Everything he could ever want, everything he would ever want, is here in his arms; breathing quietly with a twitch of your nose ever so often. 

“You know you’re it for me,” Xavier’s voice is barely above a whisper, breaking slightly. “It’s only ever you, anything you’ll give me, I’ll always accept.” He knows you’re asleep, he knows you’ll never know the words he’s speaking into the night, he doesn’t care. 

The smallest hum leaves your lips, brows furrowing as you stir, scooting closer to your lover even in your sleep. His smile grows softer, his arms curl around you a little tighter. He has you and your love, there’s nothing more in his life he would want. 

Although he might ask what you think about adopting a kitten. 

taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom

[qinsylus]

04/27/26; 05:20pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ lingering lust ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus — darkbound souls

the steam coming from the spring was enough to make your head spin, feeling sylus licking droplets of water off your body. the silk fabric and beads that decorate your respective forms were the only barrier between you and him, and you felt heat on the spot where he began trailing possessive kisses down the side of your neck. while basking in this seductive friction, you open your eyes, allowing your gaze to follow the lotus bloom seen floating atop the waters.

you feel his smirk against your skin, his hand holding yours momentarily before he scoops up the bloom and places the delicate flower within your hand. still caught in a daze, you tilt your hand forward, allowing the droplets of water to cascade down sylus’s beautifully sculpted chest.

knowing you like the back of his own hand, he smirks at you before falling back into the shallow ends of the pool, bringing you on top of him as you allowed yourself to lick off the water that remain against his skin like morning dew.

as your tongue curls against the harden bud of his nipple, you felt the way he delves his fingers into your hair before whispering to you, “you can always ask me for all of my desires. i’ve never been one to deny you of your needs, my love.”

when you were done cleaning the water off of him, sylus removes the silk fabric that once covers his loins, now changing positions with you as he has you laid above the marble steps. spreading your legs wide open so that he may settle himself between them, he traces the engorged tip of his cock over your outer lips, basking in your soft mewls of his name before slowly entering you.

your back arches against the marble steps, accepting every breathtaking inch of him as he began his steady pace-

making love to you while surrounded by the hot waters as you felt like you were floating on heaven’s cloud.

zayne — silent underflow

you felt heat coursing through your veins upon hearing zayne’s grunt, feeling his body turn taut even as you massaged his form. you touched at the jewels that decorate his broad back, running a reverent hand down the length of his body as you pressed a kiss against his wet skin-

feeling a shudder coursing through him when he suddenly faces you, taking you within his embrace before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. you eagerly kissed him back, allowing the passion to take over as your connected lips were coupled with gentle bites and the twirling of tongues. when the need for air became too much, zayne was the first to pull away from the kiss, now trailing his lips down toward the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“zayne-“ you instinctively call out to him, feeling him sharply inhale before whispering hoarsely within your ear, “i want to hear 'zayne' leave your lips 1,000 times. 10,000 times even. so please… don’t you dare hold anything back.”

he gently taps at your hips, silently demanding that you jump. you did so just mere seconds later, jumping into his arms so that zayne was now holding you by the back of your thighs. he settles himself against the edge of the pool, eyes darkened with pure desire for you as he slots his erection between your legs. as if captivated by the sight of your swollen clit, he continues to rub his cock against your hardened pearl, not stopping until he hears your soft whimpering.

hearing your soft whimpers morphing into desperate moans of his name breaks him out of his reveries. letting out soft curses along with the syllables that make up your name, you feel him gripping at your backside before slowly sheathing himself within your cunt, entering your core slowly as if to savor the feeling of you wrapped so snugly around him.

tossing your head back at the sensation of his thick cock invading your walls, you felt the waters sloshing around your intimately connected bodies as he steadily pounded himself into you-

ensuring that you would feel him for days once he was done.

xavier — sunken glow

xavier seemed obsessed at the mere sight of you, covered in nothing but gorgeous beads as he trails hot kisses down the length of your body. you shiver, feeling him whispering your name against your ear while biting down against the lobe of it.

even with your back pressed flushed against the front of his chest, it was clear that xavier couldn’t get enough of you. his hands kept trailing down the front of your form, pinching and caressing you in all the right places as you let out eager moans in response.

xavier played your body like his own personal instrument, drawing out your sweet gasps and cries of his name with his each and every touch.

“the longing that i have… this thirst is because of you.”

with your back still pressed against his chest, he slowly spreads your legs for him, managing to find your cunt as he slots the palm of his hand over it. your breathing hitches upon feeling the way he cups at your sex, inserting a single finger within it before moving away from you-

now replacing the digit with the thick tip of his cock.

hiding his face within the curve of your neck, you felt him slowly entering you from behind, causing a low gasp to escape from you as you felt him completely sheath himself within your heat. you brace yourself against the edge of the pool, feeling your walls flutter each time xavier grunts and moans within your ear as you prayed that your connection with him would last forever.

rafayel — rippling blossoms

the fishes within the pond were seen dancing with their mates while rafayel kept your body pressed against his.

you continue to tease him, giving him kisses that were no heavier than dew before inevitably moving away from him. he pouts at you, coming closer to steal your lips once more when you manage to pick up one of the red flowers floating from within the pond. you end up placing the crimson bloom on rafayel’s lips, hearing his gasps turn heavier as he slides your body closer to him, feeling the boat rock with your respective movements.

he kisses you, transferring the flower from his lips to yours before slowly backing away from you. his hands tremble with reverence, gently caressing at your face with the back of his hand. “let me touch you… until every part of your body belongs to me.”

laying you back against the boat, rafayel covers your body beneath his. he hides his face within the curve of your neck, wrapping both of your legs around his waist before slowly pushing himself into your heat. you gasp, feeling your back arching against the wood as your body accepted every inch of him. once he was fully sheathed inside of you, you felt his slow thrusts making your body bounce in tune with him.

the boat steadily begins to rock, jostling slightly as rafayel seemed focused on the feeling of your walls tightly gripping at his cock as you cling to him while he sped up his pace-

wrapping your arms and legs around him as you became one in your own mating dance.

caleb — vinesurge instinct

caleb was settled back against the bank of the river, drunk off the sweet scent of the apples while keeping both hands on the back of your head.

you had simply shoved aside the sheer fabric that covered his manhood, gently stroking him a few times before sliding into the waters. forcing caleb to spread his legs, a mischievous smile paints your expression before you lean down, proceeding to wrap your lips around his cock.

he remained hot, heavy, and thick against your lips, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue as you wrapped it around his shaft. you hum when you felt the veins that decorated his dick pulsating with need for you. and when you attempt to take him further within your mouth-

caleb was the one who stopped you from having fun by pulling you away from him. you whined a bit from the sudden loss of him, only to have your protest die against your throat at the sight of him.

with you now meeting his gaze, you could see the blush that paints his defined cheekbones. he appeared sheepish when he leans in to press a kiss against your lips before telling you, “you’re always a fast learner… you always know how to make me feel so damn good.”

he then proceeds to lay you back against the damp grass just then, making your breathing hitch when he spreads your legs for him, “and together, we’ll see how we belong to each other.”

never once breaking eye contact with you, caleb hovers close to you, entering your slick walls in one, swift motion. just mere seconds later, he’s completely sheathed inside of you, setting a steady pace that leaves you panting for him.

each time he angles his hips, you swore caleb hit a spot you never knew even existed before, feeling your toes curl in response. he could feel the way your walls clenched around him in such an oh so sweet manner, making him lean down to whisper hedonistic phrases in your ear,

“that’s right, only i can make you feel this way. only i can reach this deeply into you…and you’re going to remember this feeling for the rest of your life- i’ll make sure of it.”

end notes: lmao i’m too broke to try and get this banner, so i’ll write something instead 😙

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[finding-galaxys]

They way he looks at MC, LORD HAVE MERCY!!! XAVIER!!! Those puppy eyes!!!! THOSE PUPPY EYESSS!!! HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING!!!! HE... HE JUST... AGHH!!! FUEGO EN LA CUCA!!! FUEGO UTERINO!!!

[lycheejelli]

This is genuinely distracting me from studying for my exams.

Like LOOK AT HIM

[mwphisto]

I'm a starfish girly, and just picturing the dynamic between them. I can see raf and xav competing to make MC finish first by them but also can see xavier domming raf sometimes like calling him a good boy and making him beg to finish 👀 are we forming a picture

The best part about starfish is that Rafayel is a switch, and he went into this trio fully expecting sleepy and docile Xavier to be a sub. Really, in his mind he pictured you to be the one topping Xavier. You could imagine the shock when everything finally happened and all of a sudden he was the one with his face shoved between your legs and Xavier's hands were guiding his hips up into the air.

Rafayel may have put up a bit of a fight at first - whined a bit in typical Raf fashion. But something about Xavier's eyes, that sardonic grin on his face when he asks Raf if he wants to stop? It has him shaking his head, hiding his face in your thighs, smearing his drool and your arousal all over your heated skin as his blood pools in his cheeks at the soft timbre whisper of "good boy."

When they get more comfortable with each other, that's when the competitions would begin. You'd find it oddly amusing watching the two of them rough house on the bed. Their mixed laughter making you smile, it seems almost innocent. Then one hand slips, then another, oh and there goes a shirt... oh and pants are on the floor... oh and now you're being dragged over by your ankles.

I can totally see you and Raf ganging up on Xavier too, and he'd pretend he doesn't like it but oh man does he like the sight of Rafayel topping him. It really awakens something in him he didn't even know he was into. He's just so pretty, you know? His face all flushed, pink taking up a majority of his irises, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he fucks into him. And you? devilish as you are, just laying beside the two of them, grinning as Xavier loses his composure, idly running your fingers along his leaking cock and smearing the precum all over his stomach.

[lycheejelli]

Yall don’t understand I need more of this dynamic YESTERDAY

[princesspeachi3]

don’t i taste just like candy?

your first makeout session with him mdni. suggestive+nsfw content. wc: max 1.5k each <3

content: afab!reader/mc. xavier - almost getting caught+dry humping potential if you squint, rafayel - semi-public kissing+mc using raf’s thigh, zayne - mc taking the lead+pathetic, scared (in an erotic way) zayne who’s eager to follow, sylus - pollenated kissing+references to dirty dreams, caleb - mc being angry=hate-kissing+swearing+basically dry humping

a/n: this took too long to complete. and i wrote too much for each li despite this being my first multihc so what did i expect!! anyway, i hope you all enjoy, pls lmk what u think! this may just be the first and last time i do this LMAO. did my best to stay in character but yk. tell me. like should i never write another li again NJNSJNS (pls..i have a snowapplemc fic in the works. pls)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ xavier

You’re not meant to be doing this right now, not here at least. People are still around - and not just any people, but your own coworkers and higher ups. This is so incredibly wrong, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but falling into Xavier is something you’ve never been able to resist.

This time is even more precious though. There’s more of him you’re discovering. Of course, there’s the usual: his warmth, his softness but now there’s hints of roughness. Roughness that you should be discovering anywhere but here.

When he sighs into your mouth, you forget about your worries.

It was meant to be a late night at the Association for you. You’d planned to finish your report and hand it in today, even if it meant being the last one out of the office. You were almost there, there was just a few more pages left to fill in, but then another chair rolled up next to you and soon you were coaxed into taking a well-needed break.

Somehow, this break meant sitting in your boyfriend’s lap and kissing him like you’d never have the chance to again. At your workplace. His one too. The one where you share the same colleagues and report to similar higher ups and have to look at one another with a straight face after this.

It’s quiet in the office, it’s far too dark and there’s only the glow of a few hologram displays nearby that illuminate your knitted figures. Beyond the doors there’s voices, there’s meetings, and here you both are. 

Shivers run down your spine when his fingers skim over it, and heat plummets in you when you consider how close he is to you. This is all too much for your first time kissing him like this, but your hands thread through his soft locks anyway and his other hand grips onto your thigh for support when you tug.

And he’s— God, you can feel how much he loves this. It makes your head spin when you realise how far you’ve gone now, but Xavier’s there to keep you grounded. His fingers press into your back, his palm brushes up your thigh, finds the curve of your silhouette, and you whimper when his tongue meets yours.

It takes your absolute full strength to pull yourself away, your body begs to stay in his embrace, but you know you’re pushing it now. You clear your throat, eyes adjusting to the dark when you whisper, “Xavier, we— I’m not sure if—”

But the words are stuck in your throat when you gaze down at him. Serene blue eyes pierce through despite how heavy-lidded they are, you see the way his lips are coated in a mixture of you and him and his heartbeat can be heard over the cars and civilians bustling just outside.

It’s fast, it’s so unbelievably fast, and that’s all because of you.

Xavier’s chest is heaving, and alongside his heartbeat comes the sound of hushed pants pushing past slicked lips. You've got one arm braced on his shoulder, and he leans into your forearm, seeking your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, just to catch his breath, and finally his voice comes into focus.

“We can stop. I’ll follow your lead.” It comes out in a broken whisper, struggles to find its footing between a steady tone and sweet quietness, and that also sends heat pooling between your thighs. 

You see the eager shine in his eyes, the silent plea that restrains him, and God he’s too pretty. You don’t want to stop— you can’t. You lean back in, and he’s there. His hand stays firm on your back, your thighs keep him in place beneath you and only the sounds of strained whimpers, reverent sighs and chair squeaking float from your cubicle.

You’d started it, really. Xavier had simply stopped by to check in on you, give your mind a rest from battle jargon. He’d slipped you a small kiss, a promise of seeing you soon, but something took over you. You kissed back, a little harder, and he’d been more than keen to reciprocate. 

Tomorrow you’ll blame it on the atmosphere and the thrill of being caught.

No one could blame you though. Xavier had been so sweet and gentle with you thus far, but you knew you were approaching your breaking point. His presence was always too close for you to be able to ignore him - he was on your mind more often than not. Being left alone with thoughts of Xavier meant wondering about the sides of him you hadn’t seen yet.

When he bites on the plush of your lip, you’re grateful that today’s the day you finally get to learn so much more. When you whimper from the delirious sting, his palm kneads into the softness of your ass and coaxes another whimper out of you.

You’re about to whine, to ask him for more - you’re not even quite sure what that may be yet - but the sound of footsteps draw close and soon the door to the office is being opened.

Light breaks through and tears apart the harmonious blacks and blues previously streaked across the room. Heat dissipates from you, your head spins, but you’re alone in your chair now. Xavier’s neatly arranged you back onto your chair, spun you round the right way and hidden himself somewhere.

You make eye contact with the colleague who’s just walked in and give a quaint smile, trying to appear as though your heart rate was completely normal.

You think Xavier’s teleported, but when you roll your chair closer to your desk a hand places itself on your thigh. You jolt at the feeling, and thank the stars above that your colleague is busy at their own desk.

His touch kicks in some sort of survival instinct; you try to subtly re-arrange yourself. You pat down your clothes, glance at the reflection in the monitor and tame stray hairs. It’s probably too late for that, but anything is better than thinking about Xavier’s hand that is… far too close for you to be normal about.

A quick peer under your desk shows you a sight you’re not prepared for.

He’s not even looking at you. He’s not trying to. His eyes are fixated on his hand, the one that rests higher up than it has before. His cheeks are flushed, his ears burn red, and his chest rises and falls in quick succession. He’s beautifully dishevelled and the definition of bliss.

It takes him a moment to realise you’re watching him, and Xavier slowly glances up. There’s a flicker of surprise, like you’d stumbled across a private moment, but it morphs into the sweetest of smiles. One that speaks of innocence and carries a hint of guilt.

When you shut your legs in realisation, he flops his forehead against your knee. Your body jolts, and he places a small kiss in apology.

ଳ⋆˚࿔ rafayel

“You know, I really think it’s unnecessary for you to buy a new outfit everytime you get paint on your clothes.”

“What do you have in mind then, cutie?”

“I don’t know… Maybe try a washing machine, or hand washing them. Or having a set only for when you paint so it doesn’t matter if it gets a bit messy. Maybe even—“

There’s a zipping sound just past the curtain, accompanied by a flurry of movements. “In order to paint, I need to be just like my canvas. Completely clear, brand new, ready to be washed in colours. Besides, I think a certain someone enjoys these little shopping trips, wouldn’t you agree?”

You scoff and cross your arms, scrutinising the figure behind the curtain. Like always, Rafayel had dirtied another pristine white set of his and begged you to accompany him shopping. He should have been perfectly aware you’d be against the trip - it’s not like you bought a new uniform every time you fought a wanderer - but he’d only taunted you and said he’d happily buy you one each time if you asked.

You’d gone round and round in circles, never learning to not make eye contact with a pretty shirt or tailored pants hung on display. He’d always somehow catch on and immediately be adding the piece onto the forever growing pile of clothes in your arms. 

“Why is it that when we go shopping for you, I’m the one who has to carry stuff?” you’d asked.

“I’m too weak to carry them. I’m tired. Isn’t my bodyguard supposed to do this?” He’d replied, not without a flick to his forehead. 

He’s lucky he’s cute.

You have to press your lips into a thin line when you think about his infuriatingly teasing expression - you can’t reinforce this behaviour. It’s not been very long since you started dating, but you think Rafayel already knows his charms work too easily on you. 

“Prepared to be blown away, cutie?”

“Show me what you got.”

In all honesty, you’re not really prepared. He’s styled in a silky white blouse and crisp black trousers, and whilst it’s a colour scheme you’ve seen him in before you’re still getting used to how pretty he can be. The lavender hues of his hair are striking in contrast, the blues and pinks in his eyes beam at you - only ever for you - and blush lips spread into a stupid smirk.

He’s going to be the death of you, and he knows it.

Your eyes drift and catch onto the detailed embroidery neatly displayed on the blouse. A motif of seashells and foam trail over his shoulder, down his chest and wrap around his waist. You don’t remember picking this one, and you’re intrigued. 

“That’s… actually really nice on you.”

Rafayel shakes his head, and pouts at you. “Are you surprised?”

You can’t think clearly, too focused on the intricacies, so you step forward and your hands begin to trace over the embroidery. You skim over the bold print, and learn the neat stitches story. From top to bottom, you admire the little details in it. There’s tiny crabs that scuttle over, specks of fish that waft through and coral that dance beneath your fingertips.

A hand catches your wrist. When you look up from the embroidery, a blushing Rafayel fills your view. He’s looking away, another pout pressing into his lips, and your breath catches. You’re about to apologise, you didn’t realise just how in his space you were. It dawns on you then that you’d been touching him too, the thinness of the blouse hadn’t concerned you in the slightest, oh—

It happens quickly, and you’re disorientated for a second. He’s pulled you into the changing room with him, a small space made for one really. The curtain is drawn behind you, and Rafayel moves from gripping your wrist to lacing his fingers through yours.

His voice is hushed when he says, “If you wanted a feel, cutie, you could’ve just asked.”

You’re floundering through apologies, and he’s quick to shush you. There’s not much room for you here, and he knows it. He takes one—two steps towards you, and you naturally scuffle backwards. Soon your back is pressed against the wall, and Rafayel has you where he wants. His eyes flit between your eyes to your lips.

For the first time since you got here, it’s silent. There’s the bumbling of customers just outside the cubicle, and you can’t help but gulp at the intensity of his eyes. He’s watching you keenly, and you feel hot under his gaze. You’re about to open your mouth, another apology ready to be said, but he disrupts you.

It’s eerily gentle, the way in which he finally speaks. A soft whisper of “Please, can I?” is all it takes for you to abandon any concerns about his feelings. He’s more than fine, you realise.

His pink cheeks speak of want, his eyes sparkle with desire and you’re more than happy to apologise for invading his space with a soft kiss.

It’s wouldn’t be the first time, of course. You’ve kissed him plenty of times before, but something has you questioning if gentleness is all he wants today. You think it’s the lack of room, the way he’s hazily watching you, his open clavicle you’re suddenly too aware of.

The sound of conversation nearby reminds you that you’re in public - what if a worker walked in and questioned the two pairs of shoes peaking from under the curtain?

Still. You can’t deny him because you don’t want to. He’s asked so nicely too; it was rare for him to be polite. That’s the kind of behaviour you should be rewarding.

You respond with a chaste kiss, delicate and sweet as always. It dawns on you, though, that this was the wrong move. Your earlier intuition was right, because soon Rafayel’s hand is pinning your wrist low against the wall. His other hand latches onto your cheek, softly pressed into your skin, and you’re drowning in him. 

It takes a moment for your brain to reboot, but when you’re finally there it’s a quiet match filled with pleasurable sighs and hushed whimpers. He takes the lead and flourishes you in harsh kisses, and your hand struggles to not scrunch into his pretty blouse. 

When his tongue slides into yours, your brain short-circuits and you’re tugging him closer, harder, into you. You can feel him smirk into the kiss, and it sends a wave of lightheadedness floating through.

With each kiss, each pang of dizziness, comes the steady collection of slick between your legs, you gasp. It’s too soon to be feeling like this, yes this was a lot more of a passionate kiss than usual, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. You just hope he hasn’t caught on, because you’re more than aware that you’ll be endlessly teased by him.

He pulls away from you, and a string of saliva connects his lips to yours. He’s panting, and your knees buckle from the heavy look he gives you. You see how quickly Rafayel’s eyes flash with realisation, and he’s caught between a laugh and moan - a ragged sound that has you shuddering. You stare at him helplessly, borderline needy, and he’s nodding and catching you once more.

When he closes in on you again, he purrs into your ear, “I’ve got you, pretty baby.” Any sound you could make from the new name is muffled by his lips reaching yours again. His knee slots perfectly between your thighs, and a quiet moan manages to escape from you at the sudden pressure.

He kisses you again, and again, before pulling away once more.

“Is this okay?” Rafayel asks, and you want to laugh. Instead, you clumsily nod, and his thumb caresses your cheek. His voice is wrecked, his skin hot on yours, and the way he’s still watching you drives you crazy. You can’t help but buck against his knee, the undivided attention overwhelmingly delightful to you, and that…

Rafayel’s eyes flutter watching you. He can’t stay away anymore, and soon he’s back on you. He kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and commits each sound you make to his mind.

He’s definitely buying this shirt.

₊°｡❆ zayne

“Thanks for inviting me out, Zayne. Even if your taste in fusion cuisine is skewed, I had fun.”

“I feel like you’re teasing me. As I recall, someone was perfectly happy trying out my meal. I distinctly remember a few bites missing from my own plate each time I looked away.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Well. It sounds to me like someone doesn’t want a kiss goodbye.”

Zayne laughs, but you're stoic and refuse to break character. You look away and twist your body away from him too. There’s only so much space in the passenger seat though, so this is the most brutal move you can pull as he drives you home.

He calls your name a few times, and you still refuse to speak. It's only when his hand shifts from the gearstick to your thigh that you acknowledge him.

“I’m sorry. It seems I mistook you for a little mouse,” he says, mirthful eyes focused on your figure after pulling up to a traffic light.

You huff and nod earnestly. “That’s right. I would never take your food without asking. Especially not for something so… sweet.”

He smiles softly and moves his hand back onto the gearstick, driving off and closer to your home. It returns back to your thigh, and your hand clasps over it.

That is, until you hear a quiet, “And yet, everything on your plate was clear.”

When you pull his hand off your thigh and softly throw it elsewhere, he apologises endlessly as you refuse to engage.

It’s a quick drive, and you hate it. Even though he can be so mean, you want to spend every second with Zayne regardless. You miss him the moment you’re apart, and you’re not ready to feel that.

The universe clearly doesn’t care though, because the sight of your apartment building sends your heart dropping. You think he feels it too. The air chills ever so slightly, and there’s a lingering silence as the car finally stops. You turn to face him, heart panging when you catch his mournful expression.

“Thank you,” is all that comes from your mouth. If you say goodbye, then you have to leave, and you’re really not ready yet.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then Zayne’s leaning over the console towards you. His voice is full of quiet and wrapped in silk when he murmurs, “It doesn’t have to be a kiss-goodbye.”

“No? What should it be then.”

“…A kiss see-you-later.”

You laugh and he smiles with you, a little meek and pink. Your hands come up and cradle his cheeks, squishing them as your move his head side to side. He doesn’t resist, letting you coo and squeeze him as you please.

“You’re such a romantic. Fine, let’s have a ‘kiss see-you-later’ then.” Your eyes flutter shut as Zayne leans closer. His lips move against yours softly, and one hand come to rest at your nape.

The kiss is sweet, as it usually is. You’ve only ever known tenderness with him. It’s always been that way with Zayne though - his love is quiet but firm. His presence has always been soothing; he’s never been a problem in all the time you’ve known him, only a solution.

Perhaps that’s why tonight you want more.

You’re tentative at first, your hand rising and hesitating before finally settling on his tie. It wraps around the cloth as you feel Zayne about to move away. You know he’s about to ask what’s wrong, but courage takes over and you’re tugging him closer.

You hear surprise as he’s dragged into you. A sudden “mmph” breaks between the sound of slick lips moving together, and that… It’s a sound you’ll remember for the rest of your life. You’re not sure how you’ve ever been able to live without it before.

You want to hear so much more.

Your curiosity about the soft doctor wins, and encourages you to kiss harder, faster, rougher. And Zayne— he only struggles for a second. The change isn’t too much for him, not when he’s spent years fantasising about having you like this.

He’s beyond grateful that you’ve reached this point of comfort with him. After all, there’s nothing more that Zayne wants than to learn everything you like, and help you with whatever you need. Judging by the way your hand tightens against his tie, the quiet whimpers that escape when his tongue slips into your mouth, he understands that you’ve needed this for a while.

—At least he thinks he understands, because any sort of confidence Zayne had in taking the lead from you is banished when you suckle on his tongue, savouring honey and sage as you go. Your lungs burn for air, but you keep a steady pace at licking out any whimper or gasp you can from him.

You’re impressed with how he keeps up with you, he never once tries to pull away from your touch. Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head and you giggle when you feel the hot tip of his ear sear against your palm as you move past. Zayne simply squeezes his eyes shut, humiliation rolling in waves.

When you disconnect for some air, you finally get to see his flushed pink ears, the slack jaw that shallowly takes in each breath. His shirt’s crumpled from each drag of his tie, pulled taut from your desperation to melt into him, and yet he’s never looked so much like himself. Like Zayne was made to be used as you please.

He slowly gulps, eyebrows twitching as he tries to compose himself. “I—“ He inhales deeply, eyes flitting from your hand that still clutches onto his tie and back to your face. “…That—“

You groan as you slump back onto your seat, and it’s a mixture of pent-up energy and laughter. Zayne eyes you curiously, heart still racing and on edge as he anticipates - hopes for - your next pounce.

Your hand stays fiddling with the end of his tie.

“You’re so cute Dr. Zayne, did you know that?” There’s no earnest teasing or wide-eyed compliment that follows. Instead you watch him carefully, letting each syllable hit hard as they lazily drag past your lips.

You can’t help feeling smug when you see how baffled he is, all twitchy and red in the face.

After a moment of silence, he finally sighs and shakes his head. “You’re… relentless.”

“You’re just realising that?”

You lurch towards him, lips immediately finding his, and It feels deliriously good to be close to him again. For a brief moment, you’re mourning leaving the car - you’re not prepared to return to a life where Zayne isn’t kissing you rough and fast, just like this, but he moans when another whimper leaves you, and your brain short-circuits entirely.

Holy shit.

It’s what makes you jolt forward, your hips fighting against the rigidness of leather beneath you and eager for Zayne to be there instead. Your hand frantically skims on the underside of his tie, reaching the knot. It takes a little fiddling, but your fingers are soon digging in and prying the knot loose.

Everything shifts; your mixed pants grow heavier, needier, and even Zayne’s hands begin to lift and seek a place to clutch. The car’s windows fog, condensed entirely from keen whines and aching groans. Finally, fuck finally , your hands smooth over his burning skin beneath and—

Honk!

You jump away from one another as the sound blares from the car. Your eyes jump from Zayne to the car horn, and when you see his elbow hovering near it you can’t help bursting out laughing.

And Zayne… He’s entirely mortified. He feels the way his skin flushes, the sensation of blood rushing and pooling into his cheeks and ears - but watching you laugh in front of him helps. Perhaps that’s why he laughs with you too.

It takes a while for you both to calm down, the nerves of harsh kisses and loud horns still coursing adrenaline through your beings. Soon, a comforting ambiance of softened pants takes over.

Between shallow breaths, Zayne tries to calmly say, “That was— one way of having a kiss see-you-later.”

There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that tries to reason with you, and perhaps coyness should have visited you then, but the sight of the usually collected man before you panting and blushing with his clothes roughed by your very hands was enough to keep it away.

Instead your shoulders shake with laughter, and you shake your head.

“You really are too cute, Dr. Zayne,” you hum, and his ears somehow redden further. “Should I be worried though? Does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?

“On the contrary, I loved it.”

And you’re not sure, but from the look in his eye you have more than enough reason to spend the rest of your night overthinking that statement.

.ִֶָ ♱ ་༘࿐ sylus

You feel a tap against the back of your hand, the one that was busy scrounging into the fabric of your jeans as you rambled, and you look up.

His voice is drips with sweetness, like it always does, when he says, “Take your time, sweetie. Try again.”

You turn your hands over, catching his fingers in your grasp and giving them a squeeze. You’re all too aware that your palm feels sweaty, but Sylus doesn’t pull away and you know he doesn’t care. He just wants to listen, like he always does.

“I—” One breath in, one breath out. “—kept dreaming of these, and you were always there in those dreams. I think it’s because I’ve seen a few of them when we’re out at night. It’s funny, the meaning of them isn’t exactly great but still, I thought you’d like them. I’ve actually been growing and tending them myself. For you.”

You lift his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth knuckles there before swapping your hand out for the bouquet of dark flowers. The veins of his hands pop against the pink silk bow tying the bunch together, and you squirm trying to gauge his reaction.

Sylus doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s focused on the flowers, and the adoration you’d seen him enter the room with is enhanced tenfold. There’s a sweet glow in the vermillion of his eyes, but the muscles beneath tense ever so slightly.

Perhaps they were too girlish? You cringe upon reflection, gaze fleeing towards the fireplace the two of you are sat before as you ponder. The big boss man who lords over the N109 Zone being gifted pretty flowers was maybe a little too ridiculous.

You rush to save the moment. “They’re called daturas. Apparently they symbolise power, caution and spiritual transformation. Obviously, the power and caution speak for themselves— I swear I didn’t just grow them because I thought they just looked nice. Mm, I guess the spiritual transformation doesn’t quite fit, but—“

His gruff laugh silences you, and the worries you had dissipate right before you. He’s smiling in his arrogant way once more, and you can’t find the stiffness previously etched in his muscles.

Perhaps you were simply in your head about it.

“My soul found yours and I finally felt peace. I’d say that’s rather fitting, wouldn’t you agree? In any case, I like cute things too. If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a sweet kitten staying at the Onychinus base.”

You can only blink at him with parted lips as his words wash over you. Trust Sylus to take your romantic moment and make it his own.

“So you like them?”

“I do. It’d be rude of me to dislike this bunch when my balcony is already overflowing with all the flowers you’ve brought over.” He tilts his head just behind, but it’s an unnecessary movement. The trails of flowers and the petals that can’t help but detach have been flowing in and out of the room the entire time you’ve been here.

You certainly have left your mark here.

Sylus’s gaze sweeps from you to the daturas still in his hand. He gently whispers, “After all, these ones were specifically tended to just for me,” before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

When you look up, you’re shrouded in him. You’re not sure when the two of you had moved closer together, but the enamoured look on his face has you leaning in for a kiss. You feel shy asking like this, no words exchanged, but he’s always telling you to go for what you want.

You hear him gently lay the flowers beside him before he scoops you onto his lap.

You shriek at the sudden movement, eyes jolting open, but Sylus pays no mind. His hand trails the dip of your waist, and your eyebrows scrunch together ever so slightly at the sudden confidence. You flit between either of his rouge eyes, noting the half-lidded expression, and your heart stutters.

The flames from his fireplace crinkle behind the two of you, and your knees dig into the plush of his rug as your body steadily settles on his lap.

His voiced is hushed, “Did you notice anything when you were caring for the daturas?” His breath fans over your skin, reaches past your neck and tickles the ends of your hairs. You’re on high alert, still adjusting to the sight of Sylus so close to you, and you jolt from the feeling.

His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly - a warning that falls on deaf ears, much like the futile question itself.

Each word was muffled in the haze of the warmth you now share, your mind too busy scrambling and desperately trying to find footing in this shift between the two of you.

Sylus watches you far too intensely the entire time.

Did anything happen? You knew they were toxic so you did your best to wear the necessary protection needed to tend to them. You were thorough in washing your hands after too. Sure, there were times you were somewhat dizzy and had to sit down, but that was all.

Honest.

When you still don’t respond, he continues, “They’re known to be hallucinogens.” His hand engulfs one of yours, dragging it to the curve of his cheek. Sylus presses his cheek into the soft of your palm, eyes fixated on you. “Even the smallest amount of pollen can have an effect. You mentioned dreams of them, and even said I was there.”

His head tilts, and the brush of his lips against sensitive skin tickles ever so slightly. There’s an edge of mirth in his voice when he whispers against your palm, “What were they like, sweetie?”

Ah.

It seems he may know a lot more about daturas than you did.

Residue from the petals you’d been caressing before his arrival sweep over his skin, melting between the point of contact between the two of you.

Your head spins.

On one hand, you’re glad that your keen eye meant you’d stumbled upon Sylus’s favourite flower. A part of you swells with pride at getting that right - they truly were a good gift then. On the other hand, you’re both stepping over a line that has only ever been treaded along. You know exactly what he’s asking, but the teasing tone in his voice tells you you can end this new game now if you’d like.

You’re… not sure if you want to.

A gust of wind billows from the balcony, and the once energetic fire is tamed. With the wind comes the scent of daturas that flutter around your figures. Your body reacts before your mind catches on, and you’re biting his lip between yours and drawing blood.

He groans into your mouth, and only then does a singular thought cut through - this is rougher than how you usually kiss him. You can’t quite remember what usually kissing Sylus means though, because roughly kissing him feels like it’s always been second nature.

Your mind fuzzes and swirls with notes of Sylus’ cologne and sour pollen. The heat of his lips never fades - he’s so warm and close and entirely yours if you’d like.

He meets your pace now, matches the brutality of your lips, and the room echoes of whimpers and groans. You pull on the softness of his hair, your other hand having snuck its way to the nape of his hair. He groans and grips tightly onto your waist, which only makes you gasp and jut forward.

You hear him grit his teeth, restraint oozes out of every fibre in his body, and that only makes you moan. Each brush of his lips and caress of his tongue drives you mad, like there’s a never-ending ache that can’t be satiated even with his touch. Not tonight, at least.

When you reluctantly pull away for air, Sylus huffs a laugh seeing the blooming crimson on your lips. It’s a scratchier sound than usual; his pupils are dilated beyond belief and the creeping realisation that you are the sole reason for his flushed skin sends your mind reeling.

You’re lost in the heat of your desire for him, you don’t think for a second, and suddenly you’re pushing him down. He admires you above him, memorises the way the light is consumed by your dark figure, and merely smirks.

Sat atop him, you snake one hand over his chest. You feel the thrum of his heart beneath your palm. When you slide your hand further up the curve of his neck, you feel the intense spike of his pulse. It dawns on you right then that his arrogance is all for show.

He’s just as lost in you.

Your plant your hands on either side of his head, the marble cool against your palms. You duck down and catch his bottom lip between your teeth once more, and Sylus works to keep up with you. You’re relentless, taking everything he can give you and more.

With each gasp and heavy breath comes the quick inhalation of daturas, and you fall into a never-ending cycle of consuming one another.

. ݁ ❦ ˖ caleb

You try not to sigh as Caleb keeps talking, it’s like he doesn’t even care about being somewhat alert tomorrow. For someone who loves to mention his position as Colonel, often as a meaningless scare-tactic to keep you from snooping where he thinks you shouldn’t, he really didn’t seem to care about actually maintaining the role.

“—And then there was that time you would not stop crying until your dear Caleb came back to you. You were so clingy, though I guess you still are, huh?”

You don’t bother tilting your chin up from the comfy spot you’ve found on his chest. There’s no point responding or making eye contact when he’ll just continue prattling about the old days - and trust, you liked reminiscing just as much as him! - but it’s 1am and you just want to sleep.

“Caleb.”

“Yeah, pips?”

“Go to sleep.”

He shuffles beneath you, jostling your leg that had been perfectly slung over his own thigh. You grumble as you mould yourself back into his side, trying to find the perfect angle in this cuddle pile you’d created.

Perhaps sleepovers in Skyhaven should be off the table until Caleb learns some etiquette.

You hear him tut, an offending sound that resonates in the crisp of his bedroom. You try not to roll your eyes, because you’re pretty sure you’ll hear a lecture about that if he so much as hears it.

If the tut wasn’t enough, he makes sure to heavily lay on the (fake) hurt when he mentions, “There was a time when you listened to my every word, you know. What happened to that?”

Your eyes roll anyway, and the dredge of sleep crawls back over you. “I genuinely have no idea where you’ve got that from.”

“Pips, I literally just told you about those times. Weren’t you listening?” Caleb says, and you can literally hear the pout in his voice. He shuffles again, and you grumble in response. “Okay, from the top! So, back then—“

Your head whips up and catches sight of an overly awake Caleb whose eyes dreamily stare at the ceiling. He’s happily chirping away, like the minutes on the alarm clock next to him mean fuck all.

You’re too grouchy for this.

There’s only a small bite to your words when you groan, “Oh my God, Caleb! Shut up!” Any hurt he could experience is immediately soothed over, because you’re dragging yourself upwards and planting your elbows on either side of him.

Your hands cradle his face as you press your lips against one cheek, then the other, his forehead, his nose and finally a sweet peck on his lips. You’re more than relieved when you pull back and see he’s been stunned into silence.

You put on your best stern expression, and squish his cheeks together. One pat, then another, and you think he’s finally gotten the hint, so you slither down to your cosy spot on his chest and rest your eyes.

…It’s a bit difficult to actually settle though when the person below you won’t shut the fuck up!

“Caleb.”

“Yeah, pips?”

And God, he’s actually smug— he’s not even trying to hide it. You grit your teeth when you realise he probably thinks he’s the smartest man in the world; annoy his girlfriend enough and she’ll kiss him quiet, that’ll do it.

You sigh deeply as the realisation strikes you.

Apparently the dog tag wasn’t enough to satisfy his overeager, puppy-like behaviour clearly. It’s become very obvious to you now that Caleb may need some actual training.

So you push yourself up, rubbing the sleep out your eyes. There’s a bleary smirk wiped across his features, the dumbest, dopiest look ever that you can so easily distinguish in the dark of his room, and something simmers within you.

You don’t say anything as you move closer, you’re gentle with your movements and Caleb waits patiently. You settle your entire weight on him, pressing your torso flush against his, and his hands hesitate before naturally come to rest on your back.

You don’t react despite how intimate the position is. You’re too tired to feel embarrassed.

Sure, you’ve cuddled with Caleb plenty before, but this version is entirely different. Your hips are spread, legs parted and pressing into his side. You’re practically folded on top of him like this, and you recognise one shift could change the entire trajectory of your night.

It’s comfortable though, the stretch is more than pleasant and you moan a little from the sensation. You feel Caleb tense beneath you, and you feel triumphant.

He relaxes once you’re settled, no doubt revelling in the intimacy of the cuddle. He has no reason to question your motives when you dig your chin into his collarbone, sweetly resting your face in the crook of his neck. Instead, he softly laughs.

“I’m not sure if you realise, but my voice is only gonna seem louder if you’re higher up like this,” he teases.

You merely shake your head, keeping your voice light as you murmur, “I know. That’s okay, because you aren’t gonna talk anymore.”

“Is that so?” He juts his chin away, trying to get a look at you. “Why’s that?”

You raise your head, fluidly connecting your lips with his. You feel him smile into the kiss, no doubt feeling beyond loved with how soft and warm this all felt. He was so clever, of course he’d somehow outsmarted you and gotten what he wanted.

Right?

It’s abrupt the way in which you lunge; you tug at the bottom of his lip and take advantage of the gasp that escapes. He’s barely found a second to place a hand on your face when you’re immediately licking into his mouth, savouring mint and hot wetness as you slide your tongue along his.

Finally, his hands tremble on the nape of your neck, and you press yourself infinitely closer. The feel of warm, slick muscle and hushed breaths has you both moaning into one another - your head spins as you realise there are prettier sounds that can come from Caleb.

Before you can balance yourself to launch your next attack, Caleb takes the lead and suckles gently on your tongue. He’s confident suddenly; his once shaky hand resting comfortably and pulling you closer to him, an act you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling, unable to keep your whines at bay.

It’s filthy, the sounds of squelching and whimpering that resound has you scrambling to keep up. You refuse to let this become his moment - this was meant to be your punishment after all.

You clench onto the fabric of his shirt, a frantic move accompanied by your groans and his sighs. His hands stay infuriatingly polite, simply resting on the barest slither of skin available to him - but you know he wants more. You can practically feel his hands itching to at least press the pads of his fingers deeply into your skin.

To trace you, to breathe you in and consume you entirely is all Caleb wants. You’re more than aware of that - with memories of the old days comes the recognition of knowing you’d felt the same way too even back then. He’s always wanted you, and you him.

You hike your leg higher up in an attempt to stabilise yourself. Your knee drags against his waist and you feel him jerk from the change.

It’s a singular move that causes a sudden spiral because your heat rests against him entirely and— oh God, he was so big, wait—

“Pips– I—“ One kiss, another, you grip his hair and he moans into your mouth. “We should— Hah, we should— stop.” And really, it comes out weakly, a slurred command that has no precedent over when you decide this ends.

Could he feel your clit throbbing against his cock? Was he desperately trying to stop himself from rutting into you?

You rock gently, just once and ever so subtly between every flick of your tongue against his, and try not to grin when you feel the air knocked out of his lungs.

Poor Caleb, he must be losing his mind trying to restrain himself.

For a moment you pity him, but then his voice hums between kisses and logic suddenly kicks in. You can practically hear all the excuses he’d use to explain getting this far - it’s always you being too innocent, or not understanding what you’re doing.

The thought enrages you, and it’s enough to remind you why you’d started this in the first place.

There’s an itch inside of you that begs to continue, to ignore your dignity and use him as you please - you could prove him wrong, show him just how pissed off you are and satisfy your needs at the same time.

You really do want to do that.

Hm.

Caleb whispers your name, a sound that sends you into a realm beyond here with him.

And yet, somehow, you crawl right back.

You chirp a quick goodnight and scramble under the covers, turning away as you nestle into your side of the bed. You’ve barely caught your breath, but feeling the tenseness of Caleb beside you has you giggling and catching it back all at once.

“Night Colonel! See you after work.”

a/n: i forgot to add this here but pls plssss tell me if any of this was ok!! i hope it wasn’t too ooc ><

[lycheejelli]

XAVIER DEFENDING HIS #1 EATER TITLE‼️

Put some RESPECT on my mans nameeee

[lycheejelli]

Can you tell I’m having too much fun with this game??

[hunterrami]

Bunny's favorite pillow

[xinghuisknight]

xavier's improving at handling his memories! ↳ (*´ω｀) psst! this includes mentions & themes of PTSD-related flashbacks, kindly read at your discretion ♡

Your kitchen is as silent as ever. However, it is the type of silence that allows you to swim in peace, without a care in the world, as your adoring boyfriend gently supports you on your back, rhythmically rocking you left and right. You feel safe in his embrace.

Your attention is on the vegetables you're cutting. He squeezes you a little tighter than usual, and you jump.

Maybe it's because you're paying more attention to the veggies. Maybe he wants meat instead. You raise an eyebrow and turn your head over your shoulder to look at him, chuckling.

"I'll be done with this in a minute, then we can go cudd— woah!"

Xavier's face is planted on top of your shoulder, his cheek nuzzling your neck. An odd type of sorrow is present on his face, which makes you drop everything immediately and check up on him.

"…Are you okay? Talk to me, please." Your voice rings softly in his ears, and he only pulls you closer to him. You lean into his warmth.

"I'm sorry," Xavier whispers, and as he does, you can feel his hot breath landing on your neck. "I'm being greedy right now. I'm sorry. I want to keep you as close to me as I can. So, I'm…"

His breathing is getting heavier. You turn around to face him entirely, catching his face in your palms. Xavier's eyes are closed, scrunched upwards with his eyebrows sitting awkwardly above.

You soften your voice as you brush his cheek with your thumb tenderly. "Hey, I'm here, okay? Look," you coo as you bring his hand to your heartbeat, "I'm here, alive, in your arms. Yeah? We belong here, like this, together. Don't worry."

Xavier goes silent. This usually happens. However, you've been well-equipped ever since the first time the flashbacks hit him. It's a good thing you're near him now so that you can comfort him. Since, most of the time, he'd isolate himself from you, deem himself "unworthy" of your love and affection, and feel guilty each time he'd try to feel your warmth.

But he's improving, and you're incredibly proud of him, too.

"Okay, how about this," you start, nuzzling his cheeks a little. "We go cuddle now, theeen we get back to our food. How's that?"

"Yes." His reply is almost instant. That makes you giggle. "Please."

…

Xavier adds on; "Actually, we should just have takeout instead."

Well... seems like cuddle time's prolonged now.

[lycheejelli]

This is too good!!

[lycheejelli]

I’m no artist by any means but

See me making my favorite Critical Role characters in the Tomodachi Life: Living The Dream demo…

I’m thinking I’ll make Vax’ildan, then Essek and Caleb next.