Where I repost all the smutty fics, away from my other page. Originally I was posting anything related to Love and Deepspace here, but I've decided to rearrange things. This is where all the smutty things shall be and my other account is where all the non-smutty things will be.
Don't be feeding my works to AI or repost my work or steal it. I worked to make my art, go make your own.
Synopsis : You and Rafayel have been close friends for years, so when he calls you over to his studio at 2 a.m., you donโt think anything of it.
You definitely werenโt expecting it to turn into a booty call.
Pairing : Rafayel x (F) Reader
Content: This is an explicit one shot (porn with little plot). You and Rafayel are friends. You know that Rafayel is a Lemurian. Rafayelโs nickname for you is โtrouble.โ
TW: MDNI ๐, smut, oral sex (reader receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex
a/n: The story is inspired by Rafayelโs โEbb and Flowโ memory
Word count : 1,791
TIDAL CLIMAX
Sunlight beams through the window, spilling into the room and momentarily blinding you. In the distance, waves crash against the shore rocks. A heaviness presses against your chest. You blink the sleep from your eyes only to see Rafayel lying almost completely on top of you.
With the realization that youโre both in his bed, a haze of memories begins drifting back into your mind.
Shit, you think. This isnโt how your morning should start.
Although itโs 2 a.m., youโre wide awake. For a night owl like you, who also conveniently suffers from ADHD - itโs nothing unusual. What is unusual, however, is your phone ringing at this hour.
You donโt even need to check the caller ID. The ringtone already tells you who it is.
The moment you answer, Rafayelโs voice crackles through the phone : โTrouble. Emergency. Red alert.โ
You sigh. โRaf, even though Iโm still up at 2 a.m., dealing with you is not my idea of a late-night party.โ
โThis is not a drill,โ Rafayel replies in a strangled voice. โI need you to come over.โ
The pain in his voice immediately puts you on edge : โRafayel, whatโs wrong?โ you ask, concerned. โYou donโt sound good.โ
โJust hurry,โ he says.
The call disconnects.
You try calling back. You text. Nothing.
Not bothering to change, you slip on a pair of boots and rush out the door wearing nothing but your night shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Youโre speeding toward Mo Art Studio.
Driving well over the speed limit, you arrive in record time. You mentally curse Rafayel for his carelessness - once again forgetting to lock his home.
You step inside, kicking your boots off by the door.
The studio is silent, illuminated only by pale moonlight streaming through the windows. The place is a mess, as always.
You feel sorry for the maid.
You venture deeper inside until you spot Rafayel lying on the floor beside the couch. Seeing him surrounded by scattered sketches isnโt unusual, but seeing him lying face down definitely is.
For a moment, you wonder if someone finally managed to assassinate him. (Your moneyโs still on his poor manager, Thomas).
You rush to his side and flip him over with more force than necessary.
Rafayel groans. He squints up at you irritably. โTroubleโฆwhat are you doing here?โ
Thank the Gods heโs alive, you think. Now you can kill him yourself.
You haul him upright and practically dump him onto the couch.
โWhat is wrong with you?โ you ask, unamused. โApart from the obvious.โ
Rafayel drapes an arm over his eyes. โItโs hot,โ he mutters. โThe airโs suffocating.โ
You sit beside him and reach up to touch his forehead. Your hand pauses. His face is flushed. His ears are red. His skin feels burning hot, like heโs overheating from the inside out.
And then you notice them. Small blue scales spreading along his neck, creeping toward his face and dusting faintly around his eyes. Scales. Yes - scales. Rafayel is a Lemurian.
You found out his true identity a few years ago by accident, shortly after becoming friends. Considering youโd always believed Lemurians were nothing more than a fair tale, the discovery shocked you. But strangely, it also made sense.It explained why Rafayel had always seemed so different.
โShould I run you a bath to cool you down?โ you ask, unable to resist teasing him โAlthough, in your current state, you might just turn the tub into fish stew.โ A smile tugs at your lips.
โHmph.โ Rafayel shifts irritably. โLeave me alone. I just need to sleep it off.โ
โSleeping is not the same thing as passing out,โ you reply skeptically.
You push him down gently so heโs lying back against the couch. He doesnโt protest.
You head into the kitchen and return with a cold patch and a glass of water.
By the time you come back, Rafayel has already fallen asleep.
The couch dips as you sit beside him and place the cooling patch on his forehead.
One by one, you begin unbuttoning his shirt to help him cool down.
Thatโs when you notice the scales.
There are more now, scattered across his chest and torso.
You rarely get a chance to see them and you find yourself tracing your fingers lightly over the shimmering blue.
Suddenly, Rafayel grabs both your wrists.
He presses your hands flat against his chest.
โTouching me without permission is rude,โ he says hoarsely.
โSo is being a brat,โ you shoot back. โBut thatโs never stopped you.โ
You tilt your head. โWhat brought this on?โ
โThis happens once a year,โ Rafayel mutters weakly. โIโll get over it.โ
Once a year. And then it clicks. Today is Ebb Day.
Scientifically, ebb refers to the period when the tide falls, when water recedes from high to low tide.
For Lemurians however, Ebb Day is something else entirely. Itโs when theyโre at their weakest - when their biology shifts into a state similar to a heat cycle. In simpler terms? Rafayel is extremely horny.
Realizing the situation and how close you are, you stand up abruptly.
Rafayel immediately grabs you and pulls you back into him. You end up sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he presses his chest against your back. Warm lips brush against your neck. Small kisses trail along your skin, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.
โRafayelโฆdonโt,โ you say weakly.
You turn your head to face him. Big mistake. His sunset-colored eyes are now glowing an intense ocean blue. You canโt look away. You always thought Rafayel was beautiful, but like this, he looks almost otherworldly.
Before you can react, he shifts. Suddenly youโre pressed to the back of the couch, Rafayel looming over you, your legs parted as he settles between them. Youโre so caught off guard it takes a few seconds to even register that heโs kissing you. The kiss is desperate, his tongue dancing against yours.
By the time you finally pull apart for air, youโre both breathing hard.
Rafayel slides off the coach kneeling on his knees pulling you halfway down the sofa by the legs while also somehow removing your shorts. You have never been ashamed of your body but having Rafayel see you butt naked wasn't in your cards.
Youโre mortified by the wetness pooling between your legs.
Rafayel looks at you with such lust you never knew was possible. โI want you so badly. I need youโ, Rafayel grumbles at you.
The confession hits you hard. This shouldn't be happening. This isnโt right. You need to stop him before both of you do someone you regret.
But, not only do words fail to form but your body too. You are frozen in place as if in a trance. Lips swollen, skin ablaze, your breath uneven, cheek tinted pink. It is as if your body is responding to Rafayelโs neediness.
Rafayel spreads your legs wider, nostrils flaring at the sight. Coming closer he presses a small kiss against your clit and gives an exploratory lick. You gasp. His tongue laps against you from your entrance up to the apex of your pussy a few times. โYouโre so wetโ, he moans brokenly. And then heโs eating you out with fervor. You hand finds its way to his hair, you tug and Rafayel groans.
He plunges two of his slender fingers inside you. He sets a steady pace, fingers driving in and out of you as he focuses his mouth at your clit. When he curls them, hitting against that spongy spot, your head falls back against the couch and you let out a low moan. โAh, ah, ahโ.
Before long, you go rigid, your thighs quake, hips rolling up into his mouth as you climax letting out a cry. He works you through it, milking the orgasm for all its worth.
When he pulls back, you see his lips are slick with your fluid.
The entire time his eyes are on you as you watch him unzip his pants and tug them down with his boxer briefs to free his cock. You drool at the sight. The thickest above avenge but longer in length. Precum dribbles from the tip.
Rafayel, lining himself up with your entrance, rubs himself against your wetness. โWanna fuck youโ, he whines.
โPlease,โ you whisper.
He pushes inside with one powerful thrust which has you screaming out. Your pussy clenches around him as his cock stretches your walls wide. He gives you no time to adjust. He pulls himself out almost entirely before fucking back into you roughly.
Rafayel grip at your waist so firmly you wouldn't be surprised if you bruised. He throws his head back and moans at the sensation of your insides clamping around him like vice. His pace is brutal.
โSuch a pretty hole.โ, you never heard Rafayel speak such vulgar words before.
The hands at your waist slides up under your shirt, his fingers brush against your nipple before gripping your breast in his hands.
Rafayel ruts into the same spot over and over until youโre panting his name again and again like a mantra.
โSo close. Going to cumโ, you say with a strangled voice.
Clenching around him you experience the most devastating orgasm youโve ever had. Rafayel continues to jackhammer his hips against yours. You start to whine at the overstimulation.
โFuck, Iโm gonna cum, gonna fill you up,โ he groans. And then heโs spilling into you, warm seed filling you up.
Both your chests heave with the effort of breathing.
When he pulls out of you, he watches as his cum drips out of your stretched open entrance.
He proceeds to lift you off the sofa, you instantly wrap your legs around his torso.
โWe're not done yet. Let's take this to the bedroomโ, he says as he carries you up the stairs. And you know, you're doomed.
With great difficulty, you slide out from underneath Rafayel without waking him. Failing to find your own clothes, you pull on one of his shirts, not even bothering to button it up and creep downstairs.
Oh, how you could use a smoke. But in your hurry to rush over, you left your cigarettes at home. Would you be considered an alcoholic if you added rum to your morning coffee?
As you stand helplessly in the kitchen, you wish you could treat this like all your other one-night stands. But this is Rafayel. Your friend.
Then again, after this, will he still want to be friends?
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โโน this work was originally commissioned and given consent to be shared (personal details about the commissioner had been edited out)
MDNI ๐
Synopsis: A near-death encounter with a Djinn pulls you into a coma, poison rushing through your veins, and all you can do is fall victim to the potent dream its pulling you under. Showing you your deepest desire, it gives you the one thing you've never let yourself ask for. A life where Xavier loves you back.
Content warnings: Supernatural AU, Winchester Xavier (if you squint), Hunting partners, Near-death experience, Hurt/comfort, Slow burn, Mutual pining, the Djinn made them Do It (sort of), Wet dreams, Monster poisoning, Fighting & Sexual tension, We-don't-talk-about-it kiss, Xavier is kinda mean & cold, Sharing a motel room bed, One-bed trope, Mentions of blood & injuries, Love confessions, Cunnilingus & Face-fucking, Possessive Xavier, Rough sex, Doggy style, Multiple orgasms, Orgasm edging & Overstimulation, Begging, Dirty talk, Lots of dirty talk, Praise kink, Creampie, Pet names, Aftercare.
Word count: 13.2k
Author's note: all credits go to my wifey mari who put this idea in my head & made me part of the winchester xavier fanclub cuz i had so much fun with this (besides all the headaches he pulled from me lmaooo) pfft anyway i hope you guys enjoy it~ pls mind the tags, ty
The worst part about hunting a Djinn isnโt the whole โgetting trapped in a hallucinogenic death-comaโ thingโitโs the territory. Djinns love abandoned places. Warehouses, asylums, factories. Anywhere with enough shadows to hide in and enough rust to make your tetanus shot work overtime.
This one picked an old cannery outside of Tacoma, which means youโve spent the last twenty minutes breathing in decades of rotted fish and industrial decay while trying not to slip on floors slick with things you donโt want to identify. The smell is so thick you can taste it, salt and metal and something sweet-rotten that coats the back of your throat.
Xavier, of course, looks completely unbothered. Heโs been moving through the space like heโs on a casual evening stroll, his flashlight beam steady as it sweeps across rusted vats and collapsed catwalks. Youโve been hunting with him for three years now, and you still canโt figure out if the man actually doesnโt feel discomfort or if heโs just that committed to looking unflappable.
Youโre betting on the latter. Youโve seen him get worked up exactly twiceโonce when you went off-script during a rugaru hunt in Montana and nearly got your throat torn out, and once when you drank the last of his honey milk tea. The man has priorities.
โWe should split up,โ you say, shining your light down a corridor that branches off to the left. โCover more ground.โ
โNo.โ
You glance back at him. Heโs stopped walking, his expression as neutral as ever, but thereโs something in the set of his shoulders that youโve learned to read over the years. Itโs the same tension he gets right before he tells you youโre being reckless, which is rich coming from someone who once walked into a nest of vampires with nothing but a machete and what you can only describe as way too much confidence.
โItโs a Djinn, not a pack of werewolves,โ you point out. โI can handle one Djinn.โ
โYou can handle one Djinn when youโre not walking into blind corners in a building with structural damage and fifteen different ways for something to drop on your head,โ Xavier says. His voice is calm, measured. Reasonable. It makes you want to do something unreasonable just to spite him.
โIโve been hunting for six years,โ you remind him. โI know how to clear a room.โ
โIโm aware.โ He steps closer. Heโs been up for almost thirty-six hours, same as you, but he still looks like he could walk into this abandoned building and clear it without breaking a sweat. Itโs infuriating. โIโm also aware that you have a habit of prioritizing speed over caution.โ
โI prioritize efficiency.โ
โYou prioritize proving you donโt need backup.โ
The words land harder than you expect. Youโve had this argument beforeโdifferent words, same problem. It started about eight months into your partnership, right after a hunt went sideways and youโd insisted on going back in alone to finish the job. Heโd followed you anyway, and youโd both made it out alive, but the lecture afterward had lasted the entire drive back to the motel.
Youโd told him then that you didnโt need a babysitter. Heโd looked at you with those narrowed blue eyes and said, โIโm not babysitting. Iโm making sure my partner doesnโt get killed doing something I could have helped with.โ
It had sounded logical. Practical. It also sounded like he gave a damn whether you lived or died, and you hadnโt known what to do with that at the time.
You still donโt.
โFine,โ you sigh, turning back toward the main corridor. โWeโll stick together. But if this takes twice as long because you want to check every corner like weโre defusing a bombโโ
โThen it takes twice as long,โ Xavier says. Heโs right behind you now, close enough that you can hear the quiet exhale he makes. โIโd rather be thorough than fast.โ
You bite down on the urge to argue, mostly because you know heโs right and you hate that you know heโs right. The Djinn could be anywhere in this place. Splitting up would be faster, but it would also be a great way to end up poisoned and hallucinating while your brain slowly liquefies.
Still, thereโs a part of you that wants to push back just to see what happens. To see if you can crack that perfect composure, make him admit that this isnโt just about tactics and efficiency. That maybe, possibly, heโs worried about you specifically and not just the general concept of his hunting partner getting hurt.
But you donโt. Instead, you start walking, your boots echoing on the concrete, and try to ignore the fact that youโre hyperaware of exactly how close he is behind you. That you can feel the space between you like a physical thing, six inches of air that somehow feels more conscious than any touch.
โThereโs a basement access down here,โ you say, nodding toward a rusted metal door half-hidden behind a stack of broken pallets. โIf I were a Djinn, thatโs where Iโd set up. Dark space, enclosed, easy to defend.โ
โAgreed,โ Xavier says. He moves past you to examine the door, testing the handle carefully before pulling it open. The hinges scream, and the smell that wafts up from below is somehow worse than the rest of the canneryโstale air and old blood and something chemical that burns your sinuses.
โLadies first,โ you say, gesturing toward the stairs.
Xavier gives you a look that might be amusement or might be exasperation. With him, itโs hard to tell. โIโll go first. You coverโ
โBecause Iโm so delicate and in need of protecting?โ
โBecause if something comes up those stairs, Iโd rather be the one in its way.โ
He says it like itโs obvious. Like of course heโd put himself between you and danger, like itโs not something that makes your chest feel too tight and your pulse kick up in a way that has nothing to do with the usual nerves of hunting.
You want to argue. You want to tell him that you donโt need him playing hero, that you can take care of yourself, that this whole protective thing he does is unnecessary and borderline patronizing.
Instead, you say, โYour funeral,โ and follow him down into the dark.
The basement is a maze of industrial vats and rusted catwalks, the kind of space that was probably dangerous even when the cannery was operational. Now itโs a death trapโmetal groaning overhead, pools of stagnant water reflecting your flashlight beam, pipes dripping condensation that could be water or could be something worse you donโt want to think about.
Xavier moves through it like heโs reading a map only he can see, his light sweeping methodically across each junction before he commits to a direction. You follow, trying not to think about how many places something could be hiding. How many shadows deep enough to conceal a body.
โWe should split up here,โ you say when you reach a fork in the path. The left corridor is narrow, barely wide enough for one person. The right opens into what looks like a larger processing area, vats rising like monuments in the dark. โYou take the big room, Iโll clear the corridor.โ
โNo,โ Xavier says.
โItโs fasterโโ
โItโs reckless.โ He turns to look at you, and thereโs an sharpness in his voice you donโt hear often. โWe stay together.โ
โXavierโโ
โThatโs not a suggestion.โ
You should listen to him. You know you should. Xavierโs been hunting longer than you have, and his instincts are goodโbetter than good, if youโre being honest with yourself. But thereโs a part of you that bristles at being told what to do, that wants to prove you donโt need constant supervision.
โFine,โ you say. โYou take the big room. Iโll be right behind you.โ
You wait until heโs three steps ahead, his attention on the vats, and then you turn left into the corridor.
Itโs a stupid move. You know itโs a stupid move even as youโre making it. But youโve cleared a hundred spaces like this, and youโre not about to start second-guessing yourself just because Xavier has a bad feeling.
The corridor is tight, your shoulders nearly brushing the walls on either side. Your flashlight catches on old machinery, pipes that snake along the ceiling, a door at the far end thatโs hanging half off its hinges. You move carefully, knife in your free hand, every sense straining for movement.
Youโre halfway down when you hear a wet, sliding sound above you, like something heavy is dragging itself across metal.
Your training kicks in before conscious thought does. You drop into a crouch, flashlight swinging up, and thatโs when the Djinn drops from the ceiling.
Itโs fastโfaster than anything that size should be. You get a glimpse of blue-gray skin, glowing tattoos that pulse with sickly light, and then itโs on you. You roll left, the knife coming up in a defensive arc, and feel the blade catch flesh. The Djinn hisses, a sound like steam escaping under pressure, and lunges again.
Youโre good with a knife. Youโve had to be. But the Djinn is better, and it has the advantage of reach and speed and the fact that youโre fighting in a space barely wide enough to move. You manage to land another cut, this one across its ribs, but it costs youโthe creatureโs clawed hand rakes across your shoulder, tearing through your jacket and the shirt beneath.
The pain is sharp and immediate, but youโve had worse. You pivot, trying to get your back against the wall so it canโt circle you, and thatโs when the Djinn changes tactics.
It stops trying to kill you and starts trying to touch you.
You realize what itโs doing half a second too late. The Djinnโs hand shoots out, impossibly fast, and its fingers brush the side of your neck just below your jaw.
The effect is instant. The poison burns through your skin like acid, a white-hot line of agony that spreads from the point of contact down into your chest. You gasp, stumbling back, and the Djinn lunges forward to press its advantage.
You slash wildly, more instinct than strategy, and feel the blade sink deep into its shoulder. The Djinn reels back with another hiss, and you use the opening to put distance between youโthree steps, four, until your back hits the wall and you canโt go any further.
The poison is spreading. You can feel it moving through your bloodstream, a cold fire that makes your vision blur at the corners. Your legs feel weak, your grip on the knife uncertain.
The Djinn is watching you now, its head tilted in a way thatโs almost curious. Waiting for the poison to do its work.
You try to call for Xavier, but your throat feels tight, the words coming out as barely more than a whisper. You try again, forcing air through your lungs, and this time you manage something louder.
โXavierโโ
The Djinn moves again before you got a chance to finish the word. You see it coming, see the way it coils to spring, and you know youโre not fast enough to stop it. The knife feels heavy in your hand, your arm sluggish when you try to raise it.
The creatureโs hand reaches for your face, claws extended, and you do the only thing you can think of.
You scream.
Itโs not a word, not a call for helpโjust raw sound, terror and fury and the desperate need to not die alone in the dark. It tears out of your throat with enough force to hurt, echoing off the metal walls, and somewhere in the back of your fading consciousness you think, Heโll hear that. He has to hear that.
The Djinnโs hand closes around your throat.
The poison floods your system like ice water in your veins, and everything goes white. Not the beautiful white of snow or paper. This white is painful and jarring, every nerve firing at once until thereโs no distinction between pain and light and sound. You canโt feel the ground beneath you anymore, canโt feel your own body. Thereโs just the whiteness, and the cold, and the distant awareness that youโre falling to the ground.
You think you hear Xavierโs voice, rough and urgent, shouting your name.
You think you hear the sound of a blade meeting flesh, the Djinnโs death-rattle hiss.
But you canโt be sure, because the whiteness is swallowing everything, pulling you down into a place where sound doesnโt reach and your body is just a distant memory.
Your last coherent thought, before the darkness takes you, is that you should have stayed with him.
Then thereโs nothing at all.
โ
You wake to sunlight.
Thatโs the first wrong thing. Sunlight doesnโt exist in the cannery basement. Sunlight doesnโt filter through windows in soft golden bars, doesnโt warm the sheets tangled around your legs, doesnโt make dust motes drift lazy and slow through air that smells like coffee and something floral you canโt place.
You blink. The ceiling above you is cream-colored, unmarked by water damage or mold. Thereโs a ceiling fan turning in slow rotations, blades clean and white. The bed beneath you is softโactually comfortable, the kind of mattress that costs more than your car.
Your body moves before your brain catches up. You sit up, and your shoulderโ
Your shoulder doesnโt hurt.
You look down. Youโre wearing a t-shirt you donโt recognize, soft cotton that smells clean. Thereโs no blood whatsoever. No torn fabric. No bandages. Your skin is unmarked where the Djinnโs claws should have torn through.
The bedroom door opens.
Xavier walks in carrying two mugs, and the wrongness of it hits you like a physical blow. Heโs shirtless, wearing only loose gray sweatpants that sit low on his hips, and his hair is slightly messed like heโs been running his hands through it. He looks at you, and he smiles.
Thatโs the second wrong thing.
Xavier doesnโt smile like that. He does the small half-curve that means heโs amused, the barely-there quirk that shows up when you say something that surprises him. But thisโthis is an open smile. Unguarded. The kind of smile that reaches his eyes and makes the blue there look warmer, softer, like something you could fall into and never find your way out of.
โYouโre awake,โ he says. His voice is rough in a way that makes you think he hasnโt been sleeping. โI was starting to worry.โ
You stare at him. Your mouth is dry, your thoughts moving too slow, like theyโre wading through something thick. โWhereโโ
โSafe,โ Xavier says. He crosses the room and sets both mugs on the nightstand, then sits on the edge of the bed. Close. Close enough that you can see the faint shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders that heโs trying to hide. โYouโve been out for almost twelve hours. How do you feel?โ
โLike I got poisoned by a Djinn,โ you wince. Your voice comes out hoarse. โWhat happened?โ
โYou went off alone,โ Xavier says. Thereโs no anger in his voice, no I-told-you-so, but you can hear the edge underneathโthe thing heโs not saying. โThe Djinn got you. I heard you scream in pain.โ
You remember that part. The white and hot burning sensation of the poison, the way your legs gave out, the certainty that you were going to die in that corridor, all by yourself at the hands of a very annoying, and very ugly creature.
โYou killed it,โ you say.
โYes.โ
โAnd brought me here.โ
โYes.โ
You look around the room again, trying to make sense of it. The sunlight. The clean sheets. The smell of coffee and flowers. Itโs too nice. Too comfortable. Too much like the kind of place youโd want to wake up in, which meansโ
โThis isnโt real,โ you say.
Xavierโs expression changes ever so slightly. The softness doesnโt disappear, not quite, but something else moves underneath itโsomething that reads almost like pain, if you didnโt knew better. โWhat makes you think that?โ
โBecause youโreโโ You gesture at him, at the room, at everything. โThis doesnโt happen. We never get to have this nice of a room andโฆ We donโtโyou donโt look at me like that.โ
โLike what?โ Xavier asks.
โLike youโre glad Iโm alive,โ you say. The words come out sharper than you mean them to. โLike you give a damn whether I wake up or not.โ
The silence that follows is heavy.
Things between you are complicated. Or rather, they are complicated on your part. You try as much as possible not to feed your own delusions, not to dwell on how Xavier looks at you at times, over the long drives in the Impala, over shared greasy hamburgers in diners. You mask your own consuming attraction toward him with playful jabs, and stubborn defiance because if you actually admitted your feelings, and he rejected you, it would ruin the only good thing in your life.
Xavier sets his mug down. He doesnโt look away from you, and thereโs something in his eyes now that you canโt nameโsomething that makes you want to run, except youโre already in bed and thereโs nowhere to go.
โI thought I lost you,โ he says. His voice has gone quiet. โWhen I heard you scream, I thoughtโโ He stops. Swallows. Starts again. โIโve done this for a long time. Iโve lost people. But the idea of losing youโโ
He doesnโt finish the sentence. Youโre staring at him, your heart doing that complicated thing again, and you donโt know what to do with this. With him sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you like youโre something breakable, something worth protecting. Itโs so far off the way he usually looks at you, and you donโt what you could even say to that.
โXavierโโ
โI care about you,โ he continues. โMore than I should. More than is smart, or safe, orโโ He exhales, and it sounds shaky. โIโve been trying not to. For three years, Iโve been trying to keep it professional, to keep my distance, because I know how this ends. I know what happens when you care about someone in this life. But then you let out that painful scream, and I thought I was too late, and I realized Iโd wasted three years pretending I didnโt feel this about you.โ
Your breath catches, voice shaky. โFeel what?โ
Xavierโs eyes search yours. โDo I really need to say it?โ
โYes,โ you whisper.
He leans in gently, giving you every chance to pull away. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
โIโm in love with you,โ Xavier says.
And then he kisses you.
Itโs soft. Tender. Everything youโve never let yourself imagine because imagining it would make the reality of not having it unbearable. His mouth moves against yours like heโs memorizing the shape of your lips, your taste, like he has all the time in the world and heโs going to use every second of it on learning you.
You know, objectively, that this is the Djinn feeding on your life force, siphoning the marrow from your bones while pacifying your brain with a perfect little hallucination. You know that if you give in, you are going to die on a filthy concrete floor covered in rat shit.
But god, his mouth is so soft.
You kiss him back. Your hands come up to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. He tastes like coffee and something addictive, and you canโt get enough of it. Itโs a complete and utter surrender. The second you kiss him back, Xavierโs hands slide from your knees up the bare skin of your thighs, gripping your hips that sends a violent jolt straight down between your legs.
He pulls you forward, and you go willingly, shifting your weight until you are the one now fully straddling his lap. The oversized shirt rides up, but you couldnโt care less. In fact, you tangle your fingers into his messy silver hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until the taste of him completely rewrites every little thought in your brain.
He groans into your mouth, a rumbling sound of approval that vibrates against your chest as he kisses you eagerly.
Just five minutes. Let me have this for five minutes, and then Iโll wake up and stab that blue freak.
But five minutes is a dangerous bargain when the illusion is this potent. Xavierโs hands are mapping the curve of your waist, his thumbs pressing firmly into your hip bones. The hard ridge of his bulge presses up against the juncture of your thighs through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, and you want to grind on it, already turned on. The realization hits you like a shot of pure adrenaline.
You tilt your hips, grinding down against him with a slow roll of your hips. Xavier breaks the kiss with a sharp intake of breath, his head falling back slightly to expose the long line of his throat. His grip on your hips tightens to the point of bruising, his thumbs dragging down to ghost over your upper thighs.
โFeels so good with you on top of me...โ he murmurs, voice thick, chest heaving under your palms.
You chase his lips again, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, completely lost in the friction, the heat of him under you where you imagined so many times and then chastised yourself for it.ย
You rock your hips down again, harder this time, chasing the ache between your legs. You want to drag those sweatpants off him. You want to feel him press you back into this ridiculously soft mattress and ruin you for any other man on earth. Your lips melt together, shared soft moans the only sound youโre aware of in this dizzy state.
When he finally pulls back, youโre both breathing hard. His forehead rests against yours, and his eyes are closed.
โThis is real,โ he says. โYouโre awake. Iโm here. And Iโm not going anywhere.โ
You want to believe him. You want it so badly it hurts.
But the sunlight is too perfect. The room is too clean. And Xavier has never, in three years, looked at you like this.
โI donโt think it is,โ you say quietly.
Xavier opens his eyes. โWhat?โ
โReal,โ you say. โI donโt think this is real. I think Iโm stillโโ
The room flickers. Itโs subtle. Just a momentary distortion, like static on a television screen. The sunlight wavers. The walls blur at the edges.
Xavierโs hand tightens on your jaw. โNo,โ he says. โNo, donโtโโ
The room flickers again, harder this time, and you feel the pull. Something dragging you back, away from the sunlight and the soft bed and Xavierโs hands on your skin.
โIโm sorry,โ you whisper.
โDonโt apologize,โ Xavier says. His voice is rough, desperate. โJust stay. Please stay.โ
But you canโt. The pull is too strong, and the room is dissolving around you, the sunlight fading to gray, and Xavierโs face is the last thing you see beforeโ
You wake to darkness and the smell of rust.
Your body comes back to you in pieces. First the cold concrete beneath you, seeping through your clothes. Then the pain in your shoulder screaming, your throat raw, every muscle aching like youโve been hit by a truck. Then the sound of dripping water from the pipes, and breathing that isnโt yours.
You open your eyes.
Youโre still in the cannery basement. Still in the corridor where the Djinn attacked you. The creatureโs body is a few feet away, its blue-gray skin already starting to decompose, the glow of its tattoos fading to nothing.
And Xavier is kneeling beside you, his hand on your wrist, checking your pulse.
He looks up when you move. His face is streaked with bloodโsome of it his, most of it the Djinnโsโand his expression isโ
Heโs furious.
โYouโre awake,โ he says. His voice is flat, controlled in a way that makes your stomach drop. โGood. Can you stand?โ
You try. Your legs shake, and Xavierโs hand shoots out to steady you, gripping your uninjured arm hard enough that youโll feel it tomorrow.
โCareful,โ he reminds you. Careful seems to not be in your vocabulary tonight.
You get your feet under you. The world tilts, and you have to lean against the wall to keep from falling. Xavier doesnโt let go of your arm.
โIโm fine,โ you try to reassure him.
โYouโre not fine,โ Xavier scoffs. โYou were poisoned. Youโve been unconscious for twenty minutes. And youโโ He stops. His jaw tightens. โYou went off alone.โ
โI know.โ
โAfter I told you not to.โ
โI know.โ
โYou could have died,โ Xavier states. His voice is still flat, but the words are clipped and devoid of any warmth. โIf I hadnโt heard you scream, if Iโd been thirty seconds slower, you would be dead right now.โ
You donโt have an answer for that. Heโs right. You know heโs right.
โIโm sorry,โ you whisper.
Xavierโs hand tightens on your arm. โSorry doesnโt fix this.โ
โI know.โ
โDo you?โ Xavier asks. He steps closer, and youโre suddenly very aware of how much bigger he is than you, how the space between you has shrunk to nothing. โBecause from where Iโm standing, it looks like you have a death wish.โ
โI donโtโโ
โYou do,โ Xavier insists. โYou throw yourself into danger like it doesnโt matter. Like you donโt matter. And Iโm tired of watching you do it.โ
His voice cracks on the last word, and thatโs when you realize heโs not just angry. Heโs terrified.
โXavierโโ
โI thought you were dead,โ His hand moves from your arm to the wall beside your head, caging you in. โI heard you scream, and I thought I was too late. And the entire time I was killing that thing, all I could think was that I should have followed you. That I should have stopped you. That if you died because I let you go off alone, I would never forgive myself.โ
Youโre staring at him. His face is inches from yours, and you can see the way his chest is heaving, the way his pupils are blown wide, the faint tremor in his hand where itโs pressed against the wall.
โIโm sorry,โ you say again. Itโs inadequate, but itโs all you have.
Xavierโs eyes drop to your mouth. โYou keep saying that.โ
โBecause I mean it.โ
โDo you?โ Xavier asks. His voice has gone quiet, and heโs so close now that you can feel the heat of him, smell the blood on his skin and clothes and the faint scent of his soap underneath. โOr are you just saying what you think I want to hear?โ
โI mean it,โ you whisper it, as convincing as you can muster.
Xavierโs hand moves from the wall to your jaw, tilting your face up. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and the touch sends a jolt of heat straight through you.
โProve it,โ he says.
You donโt think. You just move, closing the distance between you and kissing him.
Itโs nothing like the dream, and so much better all the same. Thereโs no softness here, no tenderness. This is desperate and rough and three years of wanting compressed into the press of his mouth against yours. Xavier makes a low sound in his throat, and his hand slides from your jaw into your hair, gripping hard enough to sting.
You kiss him back just as hard, if not even harder. Your hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer like you want to merge yourself to him. He responds by pressing you back against the wall roughly. The concrete is cold against your spine, but Xavier is warmโburning, actually, like heโs running a feverโand you canโt get enough of it.
When he finally pulls back, youโre both breathing hard. His forehead rests against yours, and his eyes are closed.
โWe need to go," he whispers.
โOkay,โ you say.
โIโm still angry at you,โ Xavier still sounds mad, and you canโt blame him for it.
โI know.โ
โAnd weโre going to talk about this,โ His breath fawns over your wet lips. You want to kiss him again. โAbout you going off alone. About you not listening. Aboutโโ He stops. Opens his eyes to meet yours. โAbout all of it.โ
โOkay,โ you say again, nodding.
Xavierโs hand is still in your hair. He looks at you for a long moment, and then he steps back, letting you go.
โCan you walk?โ he asks, looking you over.
โYes.โ
โThen letโs get out of here,โ Xavier says.
The walk back to the car is silent. Xavier moves ahead of you, his flashlight cutting through the dark, and you follow. Your legs are shaky, and your shoulder is screaming in pain, but you donโt complain. You donโt have the right to complain, not after what you just put him through.
The Impala is parked where you left it, and Xavier unlocks it without a word. You climb into the passenger seat, and he gets behind the wheel.
He doesnโt start the car. You sit in the silence, waiting for him to say something. To yell at you, to lecture you, to do anything other than just sit there with his hands on the steering wheel and his jaw tight.
โXavierโโ
โNot now,โ he says.
You close your mouth. Xavier starts the car. The engine rumbles to life, and he pulls out of the parking lot without looking at you.
The drive to the motel is silent. You watch the streetlights blur past, your thoughts a tangled mess of the dream and the kiss and the way Xavier looked at you in the basement. Like he wanted to strangle you and kiss you at the same time.
Youโre still thinking about it when you realize youโre wet.
Itโs not even subtle. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your underwear is damp and uncomfortable. Your body is responding to the adrenaline, to the fear, to the memory of Xavierโs hand in your hair and his mouth on yours.
You shift in your seat, trying to ignore it, but the movement just makes it worse. Youโre acutely aware of every bump in the road, every shift of your hips, the way your jeans are pressing against you in a way thatโs both uncomfortable and maddeningly not enough.
You glance at Xavier. Heโs staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable, and you wonder if he knows. If he can tell.
You hope he canโt.
The motel comes into view, and Xavier pulls into the parking lot. He cuts the engine and sits there for a moment, his hands still on the wheel.
โWe need to get you cleaned up,โ he says finally. โAnd I need to check your shoulder.โ
โOkay,โ you sigh, not wanting to argue any longer. You know he wonโt calm down until he makes sure your wounds arenโt going to get infected at least.
Xavier gets out of the car. You follow, your legs still shaky, and he unlocks the motel room door without looking at you. The room is small and dingy, the kind of place that rents by the hour and doesnโt ask questions. Thereโs one bed, a bathroom thatโs seen better days, and a TV that probably hasnโt worked since the nineties.
Xavier drops his bag on the bed and turns to look at you. โSit,โ he says, nodding toward the edge of the mattress.
You sit. Xavier disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the sound of running water. He comes back a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp washcloth.
โLet me see your shoulder,โ he gestures toward the wounded area. You peel off your jacket, wincing as the fabric pulls at the wound. Your shirt is torn and blood-soaked, and Xavierโs jaw tightens when he sees it.
โThis needs stitches,โ he says. You canโt distinguish if he is angry or pained, or both. But his voice is cold, and you know he doesnโt like how it looks.
โI know,โ you sigh, defeated.
โAnd you need a shower,โ Xavier points out. โYouโre covered in blood.โ
โSo are you,โ you point out back, narrowing your eyes.
Xavier ignores that. He sets the first aid kit on the bed and reaches for the hem of your shirt. โThis is going to hurt.โ
โI can do it myselfโโ
โLet me,โ His voice is quiet, but thereโs an air to it that makes you stop arguing.
You let him pull your shirt over your head. The fabric sticks to the wound, and you hiss when it tears free. Xavierโs hands are gentle as he examines the damage, his fingers tracing the claw marks.
โItโs deep,โ His eyes furrow. โBut clean. The Djinn didnโt get any poison in the wound itself.โ
โLucky me,โ you try to joke, but it doesnโt land. You swallow, throat dry.
Xavier doesnโt smile. He picks up the washcloth and starts cleaning the blood away, his touch careful and methodical. You watch his face as he works, the way his brow furrows in concentration, the way his mouth is pressed into a thin line.
โIโm sorry,โ you say again. Your chest hurts, and you donโt know if itโs from what you went through tonight or just because you made Xavier mad. You donโt like either options.
Xavierโs hand stills. โStop apologizing.โ
โI canโt,โ you say. โNot when youโreโโ
โWhen Iโm what?โ Xavier looks up at you, and thereโs something in his eyes that makes your thoughts scatter off.
โAngry at me,โ you continue at last, voice too small.
โIโm not angry at you,โ Xavier says, tearing his eyes off your face and checking the wound.
โYou said you were.โ
โI lied,โ Xavier goes back to cleaning your shoulder, his touch still gentle. โIโm not angry. Iโmโโ He takes a small breath in. โI donโt know what I am.โ
You donโt know what to say to that. You bite your lip and sit in silence while he finishes cleaning the wound, and then he picks up the needle and thread.
โThis is going to hurt,โ he warns again, locking eyes with you.
โI know.โ
Xavierโs hand settles on your uninjured shoulder, steadying you. โTry not to move.โ
The first stitch burns, and you bite down on your lip to keep from making a sound. Xavier works quickly, his hands steady, and you focus on his face instead of the pain. On the way his jaw is still tight, the way his eyes are focused on the task at hand.
When heโs done, he ties off the thread and cuts it. โThere,โ he says. โThat should hold.โ
โThank you.โ
Xavier doesnโt respond. He picks up the first aid kit and carries it back to the bathroom, and you hear the sound of running water again.
You sit on the edge of the bed, your shoulder throbbing, and try to figure out what the hell just happened. The kiss in the basement. The silence in the car. The way Xavier is acting nowโdistant and controlled, like heโs trying to put as much space between you as possible.
You donโt know what it means. You donโt know if you want to know.
Xavier comes back out of the bathroom after a few minuts. โYou should shower. Iโll go after you.โ
You nod and stand up. Your legs are still shaky, and you have to grip the edge of the bed to keep from falling.
Xavierโs hand shoots out to steady you. โBe careful.โ
โIโm fine.โ
โYouโre not fine,โ Xavier scoffs. โYou were poisoned. You need to rest.โ
โI will,โ you say. โAfter I shower.โ
Xavier lets go of your arm. โDonโt take too long. And donโt get the stitches wet.โ
โI wonโt,โ you reassure him.
You grab your bag and head into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. The room is small and cramped, the mirror cracked and the tiles stained. You turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up, then strip off the rest of your clothes.
Your reflection in the mirror is a mess. Blood-streaked skin, dark circles under your eyes, and the fresh stitches on your shoulder standing out stark and red. You look like youโve been through a war.
You step into the shower and let the hot water wash over you. It stings where it hits the wound, but you donโt care. You just stand there, letting the water run over you, and try to make sense of everything that happened tonight.
Your hand drifts down between your legs almost without thinking. Youโre still wet, still aching, and the memory of Xavierโs mouth on yours is enough to make you gasp.
You shouldnโt. You know you shouldnโt. But you canโt help it. Your fingers find your clit, and you start to move, chasing the release you need.
It doesnโt work.
You try for a few minutes, your breath coming faster, but the angle is wrong and your shoulder hurts and you canโt stop thinking about Xavier on the other side of the door. About the way he kissed you. About the way he looked at you like he wanted to devour you.
You give up with a frustrated sound and finish washing quickly. When you step out of the shower, you feel worse than when you went inโstill aching, still wanting, and now frustrated on top of it.
You dry off and pull on clean clothes, then open the bathroom door.
Xavier is sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He looks up when you come out, and his eyes track over youโyour damp hair, your clean clothes, the bandage on your shoulder.
โYour turn,โ you say.
Xavier stands up. He grabs his bag and heads into the bathroom without a word, and you hear the shower start a moment later.
You sit on the edge of the bed and try not to think about him in there. About the water running over his skin, about the way he looked at you in that basement after your near-death experience. How he kissed youโฆ
You fail spectacularly.
The shower runs for a long time. When Xavier finally comes out, heโs wearing a towel around his waist and nothing else. His hair is damp, and there are droplets of water still clinging to his chest. You have to force yourself to look away.
He grabs his bag, pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants. You watch as he drops the towel and pulls on the clothes. He doesnโt look at you, doesnโt acknowledge the way your eyes track over his body, and when heโs dressed he sits back down on the bed.
On the opposite side from you. The distance feels intentional, and you canโt read into it. You donโt know what to approach him, how to open the difficult conversation you need to have. So you just apologize for the tenth time tonight.
โI really am sorry, Xavier.โ
Xavierโs jaw tightens. โYou need to stop apologizing.โ
โI donโt know what else to say,โ you admit.
โThen donโt say anything,โ Xavier says. He lies down on his side of the bed, his back to you, and pulls the blanket over himself.
You sit there for a moment, staring at his back, and then you lie down too. On your side of the bed. With a careful foot of space between you.
The silence is heavy. You can hear Xavier breathing, slow and controlled, and you wonder if heโs actually going to sleep or if heโs just pretending.
You close your eyes and try to do the same.
You can't sleep.
The heating unit rattles in the corner like it has for the last three nights in this same chain motel, and every passing car on the highway sends thin blades of light across the ceiling. Your body feels wrung out from the poison and the fight, but your mind keeps circling back to the basement. The way Xavier had pressed you against that damp wall, fingers twisted in your hair, mouth rough and certain like three years of swallowed words had finally broken loose.
What had he meant by any of it? The anger, the raw fear underneath, the kiss that still burns on your lips hours later?
Three years of this. Three years of learning exactly how he takes his honey milk tea, of watching him methodically clean blood from his blade while you ramble through newspaper clippings in the middle of the night. Of pretending that you donโt care about him more than you should. You've buried it under sharp jokes and stubbornness because admitting it could shatter the only steady thing you have left in this life.
Partners. Nothing more.
Until tonight.
You sigh before you can stop yourself.
โYou're still awake,โ he says, startling you from your thoughts.
The words come quiet from the other side of the bed. You flinch anyway. Xavier usually drops off the second his head hits the pillow. You've always envied that about him, the way he can shut everything down while you lie here turning mistakes over like stones in your hands.
โSo are you,โ you answer, keeping your back to him. Your eyes stay fixed on the neon blinking through the cheap curtains.
The mattress shifts. โYou sighed. You only sigh like that when you're turning something over too many times.โ
He knows you too well. Three years of shared rooms and shared scars will do that.
โI'm not turning anything over,โ you lie. โI'm trying to sleep. Which would be easier if you'd stop talking.โ
Thereโs a heavy silence stretching between you, only the passing cars outside can be heard. His voice comes softer, closer than before. โI'm sorry.โ
You go still. An apology from Xavier is rare enough that it lands like a thrown knife.
โFor what?โ you ask.
โFor how I spoke to you tonight. In the basement, after you woke up.โ His tone stays even, but you hear the crack in it. โI was harsher than I needed to be.โ
You swallow. โYou were scared. I scared you. I get it.โ
The bed dips again as he moves nearer. โI was.โ
The admission sits between you, simple and heavy. You should let it end there. Accept it, roll over, and pretend tomorrow will take things back to how they were before. But you've never been good at leaving things alone.
โThe kiss,โ you say, throat tight. โAre you sorry for that too?โ
The quiet that follows feels endless. You keep your eyes on the wall, too afraid to turn.
โNo,โ he murmurs after what feels like forever.
His hand settles on your shoulder, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt, and he eases you onto your back. You let him. When you finally face him, he's propped on one elbow. The neon from the sign outside paints faint red across his silver hair and his cheekbone. His eyes hold yours without flinching.
โNo,โ he says again, softer. โI'm not sorry for that.โ
โThen why have you been acting like it didnโt happened?โ you whisper.
His expression flickers with something you canโt make out in the dark. โBecause I don't know how to have this conversation with you. Three years of keeping things professional between us. Of telling myself it was enough to be your partner, to stitch you up after hunts like tonight, to know your tells better than my own. And then I crossed that line. I don't know what it means for us now.โ
The words sting, but the way his thumb brushes your collarbone takes some of the edge off.
โI didn't say I regret it,โ he adds. โI don't.โ
โXavier...โ
โTell me what the Djinn showed you.โ
You knew this was coming. He'd heard you in that corridor, the sounds you'd made while the poison pulled you under. Still, the question makes your stomach drop.
โNothing important,โ you say, defensive. โSome beach house. Winning the lottery. Nothing worth remembering.โ
โYou're lying to me.โ He says it gently, because he knows you, and youโve never succeeded in getting a lie past Xavier before. Why would this time be any different?
His thumb keeps moving in slow circles against your skin. โThe Djinn gives its victims exactly what they want most. It makes them stop fighting. You stopped fighting for nearly three minutes after I injected you. You made sounds like you were somewhere else completely. Somewhere good.โ
Heat floods your face. You close your eyes, deciding thereโs no point in running away from this. โIt showed me you.โ
The silence feels alive now. His fingers stay steady on your jaw when you try to turn away.
โWhat was I doing?โ he asks, voice rough in a way you've never heard from him before.
โWe were in a house. Our house, I guess. You brought me coffee and said we had the week off. You smiled at me, a beautiful and easy smile you almost never show.โ
You swallow, averting your eyes. You consider if you should tell him everything. You might as well throw it all out there. โYou told me you loved me. Then you kissed me. I knew it wasn't real. I knew it was killing me. But I told myself just five more minutes. Let me have this for five more minutes before I wake up and fight.โ
His breath draws in sharp. โFive minutes. You were ready to let it drain you dry for five more minutes of a dream with me.โ
You close your eyes, wincing slightly. โDon't say it like that, Xavier. It sounds pathetic when you put it that way.โ
โIt sounds like you've been carrying this as long as I have.โ
Your eyes open. He's a lot closer now, silver hair falling across his forehead, expression stripped of its usual calm expression. Maybe he is just as affected as you.
โThree years,โ you whisper. โI've felt this for three years. But you're Xavier, my partner. You're always so steady, so certain. I thought I was the only one who felt it. That we were just partners who keep each other alive, who share bad coffee and worse motels and never talk about the rest.โ
He lets out a low sound, almost pained. โJust partners. You think I learned how you tap your fingers on the wheel when you're worried, or how you always check the salt lines twice, or how you looked at me after that wendigo hunt in Colorado because we're just partners? You think I sat up with you after hunts like tonight because it was my job?โ
The memory hits you hard. Two years ago, him pressing gauze to your side in the back of the Impala, voice quiet while you shook from adrenaline and blood loss. The way he'd stayed until you fell asleep even though he was bleeding too.
โI didn't know you felt that way,โ you whisper.
โI've been in love with you since our first year hunting together,โ he says. The words come out raw, like they've been waiting too long to come out. โEvery time you ignored my orders and still came back breathing. Every time you made me laugh without even trying. I kept telling myself the line had to stay clear. Partners don't do this. But when I heard you scream in that basement, none of those reasons mattered. I couldn't lose you without you knowing how I felt.โ
โXavier,โ you breathe, his name the only thing left to say.
He shifts over you in one smooth motion, braced on his forearms so his face fills your world. His hair brushes your forehead. His warmth sinks into your skin.
โThis,โ he murmurs against your mouth. โThis is what I want all along.โ
The kiss starts gentle, a careful question after years of careful distance. His lips move against yours a bit uncertain still, but itโs slow, and youโre sigh into his lips. You surge up to meet him, fingers sliding into his hair thatโs still damp from the shower, pulling him closer. A soft moan slips from you the moment his mouth opens to greet you.
He chuckles into your mouth, makes a low sound of approval that vibrates through your chest, pleased and warm. The kiss deepens. His teeth catch your lower lip, tugging gently, then harder, until you gasp and arch beneath him.
His mouth trails down from your lips, pressing hot, slick kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck until he finds that sensitive spot just below your ear. He scrapes his teeth against it, knowing damn well what he does because you shake against him. You moan louder, fingers tightening in his silver hair, yanking hard enough that a low groan vibrates through his chest.
He hums against your throat, tongue tracing the flutter of your pulse. โPull harder. I like it.โ
You obey instantly, twisting your grip until his head tips back. The sound he makes is deeper this time, raw approval that settles hot between your legs. He rewards you by sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to bruise. You already know it will bloom dark by morning, a mark youโll feel every time your jacket shifts during the next hunt.
โGood girl,โ he murmurs against your skin, voice soft and taunting in that same measured tone he uses when heโs telling you to stop being reckless. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist, thumbs pressing into the softness of your hips like heโs memorizing the shape of you after three years of only allowing himself stolen glances at your body. โNow tell me. Do you want the soft Xavier from your dream?โ
His mouth moves lower, kissing along your collarbone, tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat. You shudder under him, words failing.
โThe one who would have made sweet love to you?โ he continues, calm even as his hands knead and massage your waist. โTook hours mapping every curve Iโve thought about during those long drives back from hunts, when youโd fall asleep against the window and Iโd steal glances instead of watching the road? The one who brought coffee in your dream and said he loved you in that soft voice?โ he continues, calm and measured even now. โThe one who would have taken all night mapping every inch of you because he finally had the chance?โ
He kisses the swell of your breast through your thin sleep shirt. โThat version exists. He would worship you for hours. Make you feel like the only thing that matters after hunts like the one in Montana where you nearly got your throat torn out and I realized I couldn't keep pretending we were only partners.โ
He looks up at you through silver lashes, blue eyes dark with three years of carefully banked hunger, and your cunt clenches hard around nothing.
โHe would spend all night between your thighs if you let him. He would make you feel precious.โ he says softly.
You swallow, breath coming out fast. His hands keep shifting between gentle strokes and bruising grips, keeping you off balance exactly the way he does when he overrides your reckless calls in the field.
Then he smirks, the expression so rare and sharp it sends heat flooding straight to your core. His hand slips under the hem of your sleep shirt, palm flat against your bare stomach, sliding up with agonizing slowness until his fingers find your hardened nipple.
โBut that Xavier is for tomorrow. When the sun is up and I have time to do it right.โ
He pinches the sensitive peak between thumb and forefinger, rolling it with deliberate pressure. Your back arches clean off the mattress, pressing harder into his hand as a broken sound tears from your throat.
โThis version of me,โ he rasps, watching every twitch of your face, โis not going to be soft tonight. Not after I heard you scream in that basement. Not after I thought I was too late again.โ
He pinches harder, twisting just enough to send sparks racing down your spine. You cry out, hips bucking uselessly into empty air.
โThis Xavier is going to mark you all over.โ He leans down and claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your whimper. โWith kisses.โ Another sharp pinch to your nipple. โWith teeth.โ His tongue slides against yours, demanding. โWith bites left as reminders that you don't get to run off alone anymore.โ
He pulls back, smirk deepening at the wrecked expression he finds.
โIโm going to eat you out until youโre shaking,โ he tells you, fingers still working your nipple in tight, ruthless circles. โLick every drop of how wet you are for me and make those pretty lips sing my name. Then Iโm going to fill you up, bunny. Make you mine in every way that dream never could.โ
You grab his wrist and drag his hand down, pressing his palm between your legs where your underwear is soaked through. โYouโโ you gasp as he makes contact with your needy pussy. โThis version of you. The real one. Help me, Xavier. Please.โ
He presses against the damp cotton, exploring the heat there. โAh,โ he says, maddeningly calm. โThat little session in the shower didnโt do much for you after all.โ
Heat floods your face. Of course he heard every frustrated gasp through the paper-thin walls. The same man who once tracked you across three counties after you went off alone now knows exactly how desperate you sounded trying to come to the memory of his mouth.
โI...โ you start, but his fingers drag roughly down your slit, pressing the soaked cotton against your clit, and the words melt into a moan.
โYou tried to handle it yourself,โ he says, voice warm with something that sounds almost like affection. โAfter I kissed you against that wall. Kissing me got you this needy, bunny? Youโre almost too sweet.โ
His fingers keep dragging along your slit through the fabric, enjoying how you jerk under his merciless touch. Then his other hand pushes your shirt up, exposing your breasts. His mouth follows, closing around your nipple while his fingers rub circles over your clit through the underwear.
โDonโt be embarrassed, bunny.โ His smirk widens as he rubs tight circles over your clit, enjoying how your eyes cross then roll in pleasure. โI enjoyed every second. Stood in there stroking my cock to the sound of you failing to come because you needed me instead.โ
You moan brokenly, hands flying back to his hair, hips grinding against his palm. His tongue swirls around the stiff peak, teeth grazing then biting down hard enough to make your cunt throb. Youโre mush under his pleasurable assaults, you can barely form thoughts.
โSo responsive,โ he hums against your skin, the vibration shooting straight to your clit. โYou like when Iโm mean, donโt you?โ
โYes,โ you gasp, tugging his hair harder. โFuck, Xavier, yesโdonโt stop...โ
He groans at the sharp pull, biting your nipple hard enough that the sting blooms into sharp pleasure, almost close to pain. His hand between your legs slaps down against your soaked panties, the wet smack and sudden sting making you jolt and cry out.
โFuโck,โ you sob, hips jerking uncontrolably. โXavier, oh fuck, so mean... need you b-badly...โ
โMean?โ He pulls back to look at you, eyes glittering with dark amusement. โI havenโt even started being mean yet, bunny.โ
You moan and grind up against his hand. โI'm so wet,โ you slurr. โIt's embarrassing. Won't you help your partner out, Xavier? You always have my back, right? A-ahh... hah...โ you plead with your eyes, half-lidded and hazy.
He groans at the nickname, biting down on your nipple until you cry out. His hand between your legs keeps slapping lightly over your puffy cunt, the sting making your hips jerk because you need so much more.
His fingers finally slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, dragging through your dripping folds. The first touch of skin on your soaked cunt makes you cry out, back arching clean off the bed. He spreads your wetness from your entrance up to your swollen clit and back down, coating his fingers until they glide slick and easy.
He repeats the motion a few times before dipping down to tease your entrance again. โAlways,โ he rasps, voice gone rough. โIโve always got you, partner.โ
Then he slides down your body, broad shoulders pushing your shaky thighs apart, and you almost push his head down, impatient. He doesnโt pull your underwear aside. Instead he presses his mouth directly over the drenched cotton, tongue dragging a long, slow stripe up your slit through the fabric.
You almost cum then and there.
The wet heat of his mouth combined with the feeling of cotton against your swollen clit makes your eyes roll back, pushing his head unbashfully until his face is all up in your cunt. He moans at the taste of you soaking through, licking again and again, sucking the fabric between his lips like he canโt get enough of how desperate you are for him.
You have three years of swallowed want and one ruined hallucination to make up for, and Xavier is finally showing you exactly how hungry heโs been the whole time.
You moan brokenly and buck up against his face, chasing the maddening friction of his hot tongue bullying your sensitive nub. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider and wider until your hips ache, and when he looks up at you his blue eyes are dark with three years of held-back hunger.
โSuch a desperate partner I have,โ he murmurs against you before his tongue presses harder into your hole, pushing the sticky cotton inside. You whine and thrash unde him as he laughs. โCan't even wait for me to take these off.โ
Your hips roll shamelessly against his mouth. He chuckles, clearly amused youโre this desperate. This sound youโve only heard a handful of times across motel rooms and long drives in the Impala, and you never thought youโd hear it from between your thighs. Your hips jerk toward the sound.
โAlready fucking my tongue through your panties,โ he taunts, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes when you dare a glance down at him. His chin glistens with your arousal, lips swollen. His eyes are like two black holes, nothing but lust and desire lingering in them. โIs that what you are, starlight? A desperate girl who wants to fuck my mouth and come on it?โ
โYes,โ you sob, fingers clawing at the sheets. The confession spills out raw after years of biting your tongue every time he handed you coffee or stitched your shoulder after hunts like the rugaru incident in Montana. You wanted to confess so many times. Youโre done holding back. โYes, please, Xavier, I needโโ
โNeed what?โ His thumb keeps bullying your clit with rapid flicks of his thumb. He laughs delightedly when you shake and thrash under his touch. โUse your words. Tell me exactly what you need.โ
The words tangle in your throat. All that escapes is a broken moan as your head thrashes against the pillow. He keeps the slow, taunting circles going, thumb dragging the drenched cotton over your swollen clit again and again until itโs almost painful. Youโve been so close to your orgasm all this time, but Xavier seems to want to play cat and mouse first.
โCat got your tongue?โ he chuckles, voice soft and playful in that measured way that always makes you want to both kiss him and argue with him. โYouโre already this fucked out from just my mouth on you? After everything weโve been through togetherโthree years of you defying me on hunts and me still following you anywayโyou canโt even tell me you want my tongue inside your cunt?โ
โP-Please,โ you manage, voice cracking. โNeed your m-mouth, your tongue inside me... No more teasing, Xavier. Please? I canโtโh-hah, canโt cum like thisโฆโ
โI heard you.โ
He yanks your underwear roughly to the side. Before you can draw breath his tongue plunges into you, hot and thick and relentless in its assualt. The sound that rips from your throat is raw, nothing but static flooding your mind. Your hands fly to his silver hair, yanking hard as you start fucking his face. His tongue curls inside your cunt every time your hips roll, stroking that spot that makes your thighs shake while his thumb works your clit in tight, fast circles.
โM-More,โ you gasp, pulling his hair harder. โFaster, Xavierโh-harderโohfuckโฆโ
He groans against your dripping pussy, a sound of pure approval at how you use his face without mercy. The same quiet satisfaction he shows when you finally listen to him out on a hunt, except now itโs filthy and possessive. His tongue fucks into you deeper while his thumb flicks fast over your clit.
The slurping sounds of his mouth devouring you fill the dingy motel room.
โThatโs it,โ he rasps against your cunt, breath hot on your oversensitive flesh. โFuck my face. Use me, bunny. Take what you need after all those nights I lay awake listening to you breathe and wondering how youโd sound with my tongue inside you.โ
You obey without shame, grinding down on his mouth, riding his tongue as the coil in your belly winds tighter, making you shake without control. His hand slides up your body, finds your nipple, and pinches hard. The sharp spark of pain shoves you over the edge.
You come with his name tearing from your throat, thighs clamping around his head, fingers twisted tight in his hair. Your cunt pulses around his tongue, flooding his mouth and face as he keeps working you through every wave, licking and sucking like heโs been starving for you since that first year you started hunting together. He doesnโt stop until youโre trembling and gasping, hips twitching away from his face with aftershocks.
When he finally pulls back, his chin is slick with your release, lips red and shiny. He licks them slowly, holding your gaze while he savors every drop. Your gasps fill the room as you try to come back from the mind shattering orgasm your partner pulled from you. You never came so hard in your life.
โBeautiful,โ he murmurs, leaning down to press a biting kiss to the inside of your thigh. He sucks hard, leaving a dark mark youโll feel for days beneath your hunting jeans. โYou taste much better than I imagined all those nights sharing beds and pretending I wasnโt hard as steel just from the sound of you breathing.โ
He sits back on his heels. Your eyes drop immediately to the thick outline of his cock straining against his sleep pants, the material hiding almost nothing. A wet spot darkened the fabric where heโs leaking. He palms himself slowly, hips rolling into his own hand, and the sight makes your cunt clench again.
You need to feel that cock inside you.
Mewling, you reach for him. He catches your wrist before you make contact, dark smile curling his lips.
โEager little bunny,โ he says, amused. โCanโt help yourself, can you?โ
He guides your hand to his clothed cock, wrapping your fingers around his thick length through the fabric and covering your hand with his own. Heโs burning hot, impressively thick, and you feel him throb against your palm as you squeeze.
โFeel that?โ he whispers, almost conversational even as his hips push into your grip, needy for your touch. โWeโve shared so many motel beds before this. Would it be bad for me to admit you got me like this so many nights? Hard and leaking on the other side of the same mattress after watching you nearly die in that cannery, or after stitching up your shoulder like I did tonight, knowing exactly how reckless you are and still wanting you anyway.โ
โXavier,โ you breathe, tightening your grip and stroking him slowly. The wet spot grows under your palm. โI want to taste you. Let meโโ
He chuckles and gently removes your hand from his cock. โPatience, bunny. I have other plans for you first.โ
Before you can protest he flips you onto your stomach, one large hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep your chest pinned to the mattress. His other hand grips your hip, lifting until your ass is high in the air, knees spread, face down in the cheap pillow.
โPlay with yourself,โ he instructs, calm and commanding in that same tone he uses when he tells you to stay behind him on the field. He can be so commanding at times, but you canโt say you dislike it right now. Youโre hot all over. โShow me how you touch that pretty cunt when you think about me.โ
You whimper into the pillow. Your hand slides between your legs almost on its own, fingers finding your swollen, dripping hole. The first circle makes you moan.
โGood girl.โ Warm approval fills his voice. โNow spread yourself open for me. Let me see exactly whatโs mine.โ
You obey, trembling fingers parting your folds, exposing your dirpping, puffy cunt to his gaze. You can feel your own wetness coating your fingers, can feel it dripping down your thighs as he stares, the cool air of the motel room brushing over your most sensitive places while Xavier drinks in the sight of you displayed for him.
His voice drifts over you, low and amused. Taunting. So fucking sexy. โYouโre spreading yourself for me, bunny?โ He sounds almost conversational, the same calm tone he uses when heโs mapping out a hunt. โSuch a good girl. Look at you leaking all over your fingers. Do you feel how wet you are for me?โ
โMmm, y-yeah,โ you gasp. Your fingers slip through the mess dripping from your cunt, the slick sounds loud in the quiet motel room as you finger yourself slowly.
โWas it the same in the dream?โ He shifts closer. You feel the heat of his body behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight. โDid that soft version of me make you spread yourself open like this? Or was he too busy bringing you coffee and whispering sweet things to ever bend you over and take what he wanted?โ
You glance back over your shoulder. The sight steals whatever words you had left. He has shoved his sleep pants down, only just, cock standing thick and flushed in his fist. He strokes himself slowly while he watches you, thumb spreading the steady bead of precum over the mushroomy head. He is bigger than the dream let you feel, heavy in his fish. Veined, with the purple tip already glistening.
Your cunt clenches hard around your fingers. Itโs so embarrassing, your face must be in flames, but you need him. You want him inside you, make you forget everything else.
He catches you staring and smirks, hand still moving in that lazy rhythm. โLike what you see, starlight?โ
โXavierโฆโ The name comes out shaky. Your eyes stay locked on the way his cock twitches in his grip, another drop of precum rolling down the shaft.
His hand covers yours between your legs. You gasp as he pushes two of his fingers inside alongside your own. Four fingers stretch you open at once, the burn sharp and perfect as he scissors them and stretches you open. He curls them slowly, stroking that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake and your vision spark white, making sure youโre as wet as you can be to receive him.
โYou bargained with the Djinn for five more minutes of that dream,โ he murmurs, chest pressed to your back, lips brushing your ear. His fingers pump deeper, stretching you wider with every thrust. โWas this what you really wanted? My fingers in your cunt while I tell you how many nights I lay awake in the Impala after patching you up from hunts, hard and fucking my own fist because I couldnโt fuck you just yet?โ
โYesโohgod, y-yes, Xavie,โ you sob, pushing back onto your joined hands. The stretch burns so good it makes your eyes water. โWanted t-thisโฆ You shouldโve taken me, I-I wouldโve let youโhaahh, oh fuckโฆโ
โMy good, sweet partner.โ His voice stays soft against your ear even as his fingers curl harder and pump even faster into your squelching hole. โHow about you bargain with me instead? Tell me how long youโll last before I even get inside this tight cunt. Five minutes? Less?โ
โXavier, p-please,โ you gasp, free hand clawing at the sheets. โJ-Just push inside me. Canโt wait anymore, I-Iโll cum before you g-get a chance to fuck me...mmmhm, pleaseโโ
He chuckles against your ear, the sound warm and dark. He pulls your fingers free along with his own, leaving you empty and clenching. The blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance, hot and slick with precum, rubbing through your folds in teasing strokes.
โSo impatient, like always.โ he murmurs. โMy desperate little partner.โ
You pant, reaching back blindly until your fingers dig into his hip, nails biting skin. He smacks your ass, sharp and stinging to get you to take your hand back. The sudden heat blooming across your skin makes you cry out, hips jerking onto his cock. He uses the moment to push forward.
He sinks in with one long thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch is blinding. Your scream muffles into the pillow as your walls flutter and clamp around his thick cock, too big for you even wet as you are, so it stings. He groans behind you, voice tight.
โYou really are so damn tight,โ he rasps. โRelax for me, bunny. I can feel you squeezing every inch. If you keep that up, I wonโt fit all the way.โ
He is leaking inside you already, hot pulses of precum mixing with your own wetness as he rocks forward, working another inch deeper. His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, the same steady grip he uses when he hauls you out of danger.
You remember the wendigo hunt in Colorado, how those hands had pressed gauze to your side while his voice stayed calm even though his eyes had been wild. You wanted those firm hands to do so many inappropriate things to you, haul you in whatever position he wanted. Now those same hands hold you open while his cock stretches you wider than you thought possible.
โB-Big,โ you slurr into the pillow, drool wetting the fabric. โSo big, Xavier, f-fuck, canโt relax, you feel t-too goodโโ
He smacks your ass again, harder. The sting makes you gasp and unclench just enough for him to slide the last inch home. The head of his cock kisses something deep that makes your toes curl and your cunt flutter wildly around him.
โThere you go,โ he praises, voice rough but warm as he soothes the skin of your ass when the slap landed. โThatโs it. Who wouldโve thought youโre turning so pliant and obedient bent over for your partnerโs cock, hm?โ
โWant you to fuck me,โ you sob, pushing your hips back until his balls press against your clit. โFuck me, babyโฆโ
You barely realize the pet name slipping out your mouth and slurring against the pillow. But Xavier catches it either way. He fists a hand in your hair and pulls your head back, arching you beautifully. His hips snap forward, burying himself to the hilt again, rocking his thick cock in and out of your squeezing warmth. The new angle makes him drag over that spongy spot with every thrust.
โGood girl,โ he rasps. โNow arch your back. Ass up higher. Let me get even deeper.โ
You obey instantly, spine curving, hips tilted so he can drive in at the perfect angle. He moans at the sight, slow deep thrusts turning into something faster, wet skin slapping against wet skin.
โSo beautiful,โ he breathes. โI can see my cock sliding in and out of your pretty puffy cunt. Youโre dripping down my balls, bunny. Does it feel that good?โ
โS-sooo goodโฆโ you sob, voice breaking on every thrust. โYes, so good, fuckโโ
โThen let me hear you.โ His pace picks up, hips slamming into your ass with every stroke, cock dragging mercilessly over that spot inside you. Your toes curl. โSing for me, starlight. Let the whole motel know how good your partner makes you feel.โ
You let go. Every moan, every broken cry, every desperate plea pours out of you as he rails you exactly the way you needed after three years of swallowed want and fingering yourself in showers or under the duvet, searching something you never found. His hand stays tight in your hair, the other gripping your hip, hauling you back onto his cock like he never plans to let you go again.
โThatโs it,โ he groans, his rhythm growing more punishing. โFuck, you feel incredible. So wet and tight around me. You were made for my cock, werenโt you?โ
โYes,โ you gasp, barely coherent. โYes, yours, only yours...โ
โGood girl. My good girl.โ
He adjusts his grip, one hand kept fisting your hair while the other slides around to find your clit. His fingers press down hard, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts. The pressure building again, tighter and tighter, fast and vicious.
โXavier,โ you gasp, your vision starting to blur. โOhfuck, ohfuckโfuck, โm gonna cum, โm gonna...โ
โAlready?โ His voice is rough, his rhythm faltering slightly before picking back up even harder. โFuck, me too. Shit, Iโm so close, Iโll cum inside you...โ
โK-kiss me?โ you beg, craning your neck back toward him. "Want to feel you while I..."
He complies instantly, twisting your head to capture your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss. His tongue slides against yours, teeth catching your lower lip as his hips keep their brutal pace. The angle lets him grind deeper, cock throbbing heavy inside your clenching cunt.
โBeautiful girl,โ he rasps against your lips, fingers flicking faster on your clit. โIโm so deep, arenโt I? Feel me all the way inside you.โ
โYes,โ you sob, squeezing around his cock. โSo deep, Xavier, so full...โ
โGoing to cum around my cock for me, are you?โ He bites your neck, sucking more marks on the sweaty skin. โDo it, starlight.โ
His hips snap forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his fingers pinch your clit.
โIf you cum for me,โ he groans against your throat, โIโll pump you full right after. Deal? Come on, my stubborn partner, let go.โ His cock throbs inside you, and you can tell heโs right on the edge. โIโll fill you to the brim. Youโll be so full of me for days. Begging for more than just five minutes.โ
You shatter.
The orgasm crashes through you harder than anything youโve ever felt, your entire body seizing up as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down around his cock in rhythmic pulses, milking him, soaking his length and balls while your thighs shake uncontrollably. He follows as he said he would.
With a broken groan, his hips continue grinding as thick ropes of cum flood your spasming cunt, filling you up until it starts to leak out around him, dripping down your thighs in messy white trails. He holds you through it, his hips grinding against your ass, pumping every last drop into your hole.
For several long breaths neither of you moves. You stay collapsed face-down into the mattress, trembling, his weight warm and heavy along your back. His cock stays buried inside you, softening slowly while his release leaks steadily around him, warm and sticky on your skin.
Then, impossibly, he laughs.
It slips out soft and breathless, more exhale than sound, but it blooms something warm and bright in your chest. He presses a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, then your shoulder, then the curve of your spine where sweat has gathered.
โOkay?โ he murmurs against your skin, and his voice is soft again, tender. Itโs almost like the Xavier in the dream.
โMore than okay,โ you manage, voice hoarse. โI think you broke my brain.โ
He laughs again, real this time, warm and a little embarrassed. But he doesnโt pull out. Instead his hips roll forward in a slow, possessive thrust, stirring his cum inside you with a wet sound that makes you whine.
โXavier,โ you gasp, oversensitive and full.
โMmm.โ He kisses your shoulder again, hips rolling once more, keeping himself nestled deep inside. โI like this. Feeling you around me. Feeling how full you are with me.โ
โYouโre ridiculous,โ you groan, but the words come out fond, cracked with leftover pleasure.
He hums in agreement, face buried in your hair, hand sliding up your side to cup your breast, his thumb brushing lazily over your nipple. His hips thrust forward again, and you canโt help but whimper at the sensation of his cock stirring inside you, hardening again.
โI may have been overly optimistic about my own self-control after I kissed you tonight Three years of watching you walk into danger and pulling you back out, I thought I will handle kissing you a lot better.โ
โAnd how did that work out for you?โ
โPoorly,โ he admits, smile clear in his voice. โBut I regret nothing.โ
He eases out slowly. You both hiss at the loss, at the rush of his cum that follows, leaking down your thighs in thick, warm trails. Before you can complain about the mess he rolls you onto your back, pulls you into his arms, and tucks you against his chest.
โTomorrow,โ he whispers against your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there, โI will make you coffee the way you like it. I will check your stitches. I will be soft and sweet like the version you saw in that hallucination.โ
He tilts your chin up, kissing you slow and tender, the same careful way he first kissed you in the dream.
โBut tonight,โ he murmurs against your lips, hands already sliding down your body again, โIโm not done with you yet.โ
His fingers slip between your legs, gathering the mess of his cum and pushing it back inside your sensitive cunt. You shiver, already aching for more, and realize you donโt mind this version of Xavier at all.
After all, itโs the one you fell in love with.
The one youโll always love, no matter the other many sides of himself heโll show you in the future.
Theyโre all your Xavier. Your partner.
ยฉ zaynessbeloved 2025. please donโt copy, repost or translate my works. thank you!
.แโง translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites ARE NOT permitted. please do not ask. do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own. thank you!
hihi! i saw ur raf event and im not sure if theres any more spots left gulp but if there is, can you maybe do a prince! raf x princess! reader with brat taming? or prince! raf x angel! reader with dumbification? ๐๐thank you again and i really enjoy your page! ๐
prince! rafayel x princess! reader x brat taming
a/n. this is the only request with brat taming, thanks a lot for picking it! this can be read as fake dating (the king ships you two). thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy โค๏ธ
event page | event masterlist
the silk bindings around your wrists and ankles were the perfect oxymoron โ soft and luxurious, yet caging and durable. you tugged against them again and again, a futile gesture that only made the posts of your canopy bed creak in protest.
your expensive ball dress, so bedazzled and ornate, was bunched around your waist, leaving your bare legs exposed to the cool night air and, more damningly, to his gaze.
rafayel stood at the foot of the bed, the sheer embodiment of frustration. he was still in his formal wear from the ball, a tailored suit that matched your gown, not a single hair out of place. he looked like he had just stepped out of a portrait, forever the infuriatingly charming princeโฆ
not an ounce of evidence to indicate that he just finished binding you to your bed.
the glint in his eyes gave his intentions away, that genteel sparkle long lost and replaced by something more dangerous. it was predatory, a dark amusement that made your stomach tumble, your legs shake.
โwell, princess.โ he drawled out, his voice far from the polite, long-suffering tone heโd used all night with you and the guests.
he walked slowly around the bed, his fingers trailing along the carved wood of the posts, like a predator circling his prey. โit seems we find ourselves in a ratherโฆ delicate situation.โ
he chuckled, an unnerving sound that barely explored the immense anger he was feeling.
you glared at him, your pride a blazing fire even as your heart hammered against your ribs.
โthis is an outrage, rafayel! untie me this instant! my father will have your head for this!โ
your breath hitched.
โyour father? the same man who practically begged me to escort you tonight? i think heโd be more likely to thank me.โ
he stopped beside your left leg, his gaze traveling slowly, shamelessly, from your ankle, bound to the post, up the smooth curve of your calf, to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
โyouโve been a menace tonight.โ he continued, his voice dropping treacherously low, as he pinched at his gloves, discarding them at the foot of the bed. โordering me around, stepping on my shoes, making a spectacle of us at the ball. you thought it was a fun, didnโt you?โ
his bare hand came to rest on your naked calf, claiming a place only your maids touched before.
โsuch unruly behaviour has consequences.โ
his hand slid higher, and he gave the soft skin of your inner thigh a sharp, stinging slap. you gasped, with shock and indignation, and that mere noise brought satisfaction to his lips. your body jerked against the restraints, trying to escape once more, but there was nowhere to go.
โtonight, you will be reminded of your manners.โ his fingers danced up your leg, teasing and taunting, before he delivered another sharp slap to your other thigh.
โyou think you can behave like a brat and hide behind your title?โ he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle over the now-tingling spot heโd slapped, caressing it with faux concern.
โyouโre wrong.โ he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
you bit your lip, refusing to cry out, but a traitorous little whimper escaped you anyway. your skin felt hot, and the area between your legs, although still clothed, was growing unbearably damp.
you hated rafayel. you hated the way he could see right through you, the way he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
and he noticed. his smile widened, lips showing a wicked curvature.
โgetting a littleโฆ agitated, are we?โ he whispered, his gaze flickering down to your slick undergarments. โthatโs the point. iโm going to keep you right on the edge, princess. iโm going to tease and torment you until you give me what i want.โ
he pinched the tender skin of your upper thigh, just where it met your hip, and you jolted, a full cry finally escaping your lips.
โwโwhatโฆ what do you want?โ you gasped, the words foreign in your throat.
youโve never cared about his wants before.
he knelt on the bed, between your parted legs, his face now level with your restrained form. he looked up at you, his eyes darkened by obvious enjoyment; he loved the current power imbalance, the scale finally tilted in his favor.
โi want you to apologize. i want to hear you say that you are a minx, and that you will never treat me with such disrespect again.โ
โnghโโ
โi want you to mean it, princess.โ
his fingers, gently cruel, began to trace light, infuriating patterns on the insides of your thighs, coming closer and closer to your aching cunt, before steering away at the very last moment. you bucked your hips up, trying to chase his touch, desperate for a dash of friction.
โah, ah, ah.โ he tutted softly, his fingers stilling. โthatโs not the game weโre playing now. you donโt get to dictate the rules.โ
and with that, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, earning another sultry whimper from your bitten lips.
โnow, are you ready to apologize? or should i continue?โ
he saw the conflict in your eyes and merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for your decision. unbeknown to you, his curious thumb found the growing wet patch of your undergarment and, with a barely-there press, rafayel made you arch your back beautifully, away from the bed.
you were trembling, inside and outside, caught between your stubborn pride and the screaming arousal between your legs. although he always did your bidding, playing the dutiful prince, he was capable of taking full control of you.
the power he now held, the vulnerability he had forced upon you โ it was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
but he withdrew instantly, leaving you shuddering and dissatisfied, squirming in pain.
โaw, poor princess...โ he murmured, his voice dripping with false pity. โwhat will it be, hm?โ
โrโrafโโ
โwill you apologize and be my good girl?โ
ยฉpearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @gardenialily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @remnantsofgildedcages, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @thealunari, @maplewood-valley, @massivebanananut, @livanavier. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
I Wish I Could Live Here Forever Part 2 [Vagina Version]
[Part 1] [Penis Version]
Xavier x Reader
CW: 18+ MDNI, reader has a vagina, Xavier's spit, cunnilingus, fingering, Xavier makes a mess in his pants
A/N: Originally I wasn't gonna post a part 2 but several people wanted it so I decided to give it a shot! Part 1 is gender neutral and I wanted to keep that for part 2. To keep it inclusive I've made one for vagina havers and one for penis havers. Overall they're the same except for the parts involving specific anatomy.
The look in Xavier's eyes is enough to send a shiver down your spine. He had given you the reaction you wanted but now that you have his full undivided attention your previous courage goes out the window. Heat rises to your face under the intense gaze of the man before you.
"Don't get shy on me now, my star." Xavier rasps as he gently caresses your cheek while his thumb runs along your lower lip. You can feel the ravenous need radiating off of him like the sun on a hot day.
Xavier smirks as he notices the growing wet patch on the crotch of your pajama pants. Your breath becomes ragged as you begin to feel a pulling sensation in your core. Your heightened sensitivity makes you acutely aware of just how close Xavier's face is to your aching cunt. A teasing hum leaves his lips as he looks you up and down like you're a four course meal.
"Looks like my meal is ready." His voice is low as he looks back up to you for permission to enjoy you to the fullest. Your heart is pounding. Beads of sweat begin to form across your body as you feel your temperature rising from excitement.
"B-bon appetit..." Your voice shakes despite your best effort to sound teasing and confident. Though the words didn't come out the way you intended, it seems they still had an effect on Xavier whose gaze only grows hungrier.
As soon as you give the okay, Xavier leans down to mouth at your cunt through your pajama pants. A soft groan leaves him as he licks and kisses up along your clothed folds, face pressed against you allowing his nose to grant you stimulation as he moves. Your hands instinctively tangle themselves into his already messy hair. Your eyes follow his every movement as he continues teasing you through your clothes.
When Xavier finally reaches your clit, after slowly kissing and licking his way up, he uses the flat of his tongue to push directly against your most sensitive area while simultaneously rubbing circles around your entrance with his thumb. A shaky whimper spills from your lips and your brows furrow in pleasure. Your cunt aches with need. These clothed touches just aren't enough. You need to feel him on your bare skin now. Hands, mouth, whatever he'll give you.
As if sensing your growing desperation, Xavier pulls down your pajama pants and underwear in one swift motion allowing the cool morning air to greet your newly freed cunt. Wasting no time, he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit sending a wave of pleasure through your body. He stops and hovers above your cunt, making sure you're looking directly at him before releasing a stream of spit that connects to your clit and drips down between your splayed folds.
His fingers keep your lips parted while his other hand kneads your thigh tenderly. Once his spit starts to pool around his fingers he drags them up and down, lathering his spit between your folds. When he deems it slick enough he finally takes your clit into his mouth, tongue rolled out like a red carpet welcoming you in as strings of spit drip from it's tip.
He pushes two fingers into your cunt agonizingly slow while he gently suckles on your bundle of nerves. Whines and moans fill the air like music to his ears. He loves to tease you but his own patience was starting to wear thin the louder you got.
"Fuck...p-please Xavi-" a guttural moan rips through your body as Xavier pushes his fingers in knuckle deep without warning and circles your clit with his tongue. The sound pulls a muffled moan from Xavier, vibrating your clit, only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.
With his patience now completely gone, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at increasing speed. He alternates between deep and shallow strokes as his tongue swirls around your clit. His strong arms keep your thighs parted while his unoccupied hand grabs and squeezes at them desperately. Xavier rocks his hips into the couch below him frantically trying to get some relief for his throbbing cock.
Your hands grip and pull at his hair as you watch him devour you. Filthy wet sounds accompany his every move, echoing in the stillness of your surroundings.
Feeling your climax approaching, you grip Xavier's hair in your right hand and caress the side of his head with your left in order to give yourself a solid hold before proceeding to buck up into his mouth. Xavier's eyes roll back in pleasure as you fuck his mouth with fever all while he continuously pumps his fingers in and out of you.
Grunts and moans fill the once quiet room as both of you desperately chase your impending release. Your bucking becomes erratic as you near your release. One flick of Xavier's tongue on your clit is all it takes to have you gushing on his fingers with a whimper. Seconds later he moans as a shiver takes over his body and his previous grinding stops. Your cum drenched his fingers while his own now coats the inside of his sweats.
Xavier pulls out his fingers slowly while placing a chaste kiss on your sensitive clit. You shudder at the overstimulation while he happily begins lapping up your cum from his fingers.
Once he's done he rests his head on your thighs and nuzzles them sweetly just like before. A blissful sigh leaves his lips and his eyes flutter shut.
"That meal deserves five stars...mmm..." He mumbles as drool peeks out from the corner of his smiling mouth. You can't help but chuckle as your breathing returns to normal. You smooth out his hair that was sticking up in all directions and pet his head to further soothe him.
"Hmmm....I get to eat my favorite meal....while lying in my...favorite place....with my favorite person..." he says between sleepy nuzzles and yawns. The last thing Xavier hears before succumbing to sleep is your soft confession:
tags:ย clingy cat hybrid! (fem) reader, dog hybrid! caleb, sylus is their caretaker, poly applecrowmc but the applecrow got issues, and mostly sylusmc, sexual content, exhibitionism, somnophilia-ish in the beginning,
His night begins with the soft push of the door. Sylus rouses with the sound of your feet running across the room, the rustle of your night gown following behind, quickly approaching.
He feels your weight add an extra dip in the mattress. You crawl beside his body hidden under blankets. He's hardly awake, eyes still closed as he inhales the sweet scent of the warmth you bring next to him. Smells like..flowers.
In the darkness behind his eyes, he can see your unhappy face and shifting ears because you come to him when you need something.
He can feel it, the gentle fan of your breath as you stare.
โSylusโ you call quietly, โwhy are you still sleeping?โ
For as long as youโve been with him, surely youโve realized his schedule is different from your average man.
But you poke his face. Once. Twice. The third time he feigns a bite, eyes still shut. You quickly retract before going at it again, never backing down from a challenge, only chasing after it.
โSyluss Iโm boredโ
โFive more minutes..โ He promises, turning away from you to lay on his back.
Like some invitation you crawl to sit on his chest, all your weight on his lungs of course.
His eyes slowly peel apart, heavy with sleep but despite it all, seeing you is like seeing the sun rise to start the day. Absolutely beautiful, the gem on your collar is radiant but doesnโt stand a chance with the two nestled in your eyes.
Your hands feel the width of his naked chest and Sylus sighs with the graze of your claws against his skin. So sharp and they grow so fast that there's no point in clipping them down. Everything about you is made to hunt, and he will never stop you.
He reaches out to touch the of your head palms smooth, fingers scratch over your flattening ears. He cradles the side of your face, caresses over your neck, shoulder and down your arm.
His hands come to rest at your side where your thighs feed in your ass, to find soft skin under your nightgown.
The eagerness in your gaze is not of this world. He stares through his lashes, your eyes are wide, your pupils big and round. All he has to do is lift the covers, and you slip into the heat he's been stewing in. So responsive, you always have been. Heโs shameless with his touch, progressively getting greedier, wrinkling the silk of your gown as his hands feel up your sides.
And itโs like you know just what to do, guiding the parts of your body where you want his touch. Spine arching.
โGood girl..โ he softly whispers, voice heavy with a lazy smile.
Proudly, you scoot lower and find his cock soft, slowly hardening under his robe. It twitches against your bare dripping pussy when you find it.
Oh. he grins with amusement, the night has only just begun and youโre already in the mood for something stimulating.
โ So energeticโ he comments lightly with eyes shutting. Unfortunately for you, the warmth from your body is putting him back to sleep.
โWanna.. play?โ
โDonโt you dare sylus!โ you bite with some attitude. โThis is not the time to sleep!โ
What a bad kitty, he whispers happily in his mind.
You lean into his face and leave quite the persuading kiss on his mouth. Tongue warm along the seam of his opening mouth. Youโre good. Immediately heโs leaking against your pussy lips, like sweat down his thigh. You follow your kiss with a bite on his top lip. Right on the fleshy center of his cupidโs bow, and itโs stuck along a fang of yours.
โOuch..โ he pouts, a speck of blood spreading into another loose grin.
He returns the favor lazily, dragging your bottom lip against the edge of his teeth โSorry kitten Iโm sleepy.. but help yourself.. I donโt mind..โ
โYou suckโ you hit his chest and all it does is make him chuckle.
Both his hands hold onto your hips as you rock along his length, smearing your utter desperation that wells up between your folds. You start against your clit that pulses with a certain emptiness inside your cunt, then let his tip press slightly into the rim of your hole. He feels your heartbeat, the way your arousal begs him to sink inside. You press him close, just enough rouse him when you donโt.
So simple, so subtle, and you're mewling so pretty, so loud and restless. You set the thin straps of your gown off your shoulders as his eyes reopen and reveal your nakedness, dress bunched over your thighs.
What a nymph you are, heโs truly a lucky man. His eyes fall over the suppleness of your breasts, tight nipples. The dips and curves down your stomach. He shifts your gown just to see the delicate lips of your pussy between your thighs, squished against the thick length of his cock, waiting.
Heโs more than awake to help you line up and slide him through. Youโre so wet he eases in, you let him in but youโre still so narrow. He claims a deep part inside of you and he feels it all. What he does to you.
โS-sylusโ you call for him, breathless, just as he is
โYou asked for this..so take itโ he responds gently but restrained. You tremble in his hands that encourage you on your descent. Itโs mind numbing pleasure. He groans, back sinking deep in the mattress to accept it. Congratulations, youโve officially woken him up with the tight clutch of your pussy, pillow soft and so hungry. Scorching hot heโs sweating.
โAlmost thereโ he breathes ragged as his hands trail up your back. You rise and fall to ease him in until your ass settles against the meat of his thighs. Youโve completely devoured him, and you look like you're finally home.
โGo ahead..use me kitten.โ he breathes, โWe have all night.โ
The two of you exhale in unison when you come up again and descend.
โYouโre not.. going to leave tonight?โ You question softly and he beams. He realizes in the moment that you miss him when heโs gone.
โI donโt have to if I donโt want to.โ he says chuckling with a slight scoff, โAnd leaving this bed is the last thing I want to do right now. I have a sly little cat to thank for that.โ
He feels your tail falls over his leg, relaxed just like the way your head tilts, โmmโฆโโ the sound you make makes his blood run even hotter.
โGood..โ you sigh, โyouโre welcomeโ
โHa.. if you keep waking me up like this Iโll start expecting you every night.โ he says, the sharpness in his eyes makes it clear heโs not saying that lightly.
You twitch inside, leaving more slick to meet the mess youโve left on his balls. The bed smells of nothing but you. Addicting. It says all the things your lips canโt fix to say.
His fingers dig into your skin, holding onto you as you move greedily, hands overhead on the headboard. Sylus canโt believe that this is how he starts his night. Can't believe this is the same cat that used to hiss at him and run whenever he got too close. or scratch.
(you still do that, but itโs cuter now).
However there was always a small part of him that knew it was inevitable. Especially with the way he canโt help but fulfill your every need, spoiling you senseless. And how you couldnโt find it in yourself to refuse him.
Why would you two hold back when itโs so obvious you love it here? And that he loves you being here, in his otherwise empty penthouse. You bring a life inside the walls that his wealth canโt buy.
He poses to you, a breathless growl as he brings you down to meet where his hips rise, โwhoโs my good kitty?โ guiding himself into that firm fleshy spot deep inside that gets you flooding, โhm?โ
โa-ah..itโs me itโs me!โ you cry out, Your pussy is looud just like your mouth that screams for him and sylus isnโt surprised at all when it attracts additional company.
โI leave you alone to use the bathroom for 5 minutes..and you end up in here?โ
A rhetorical question surely because you're too gone to hear caleb whining. You only hear his voice and sylus feels your cunt twitch in response.
Caleb, his massive pomeranian hybrid with an attitude worse than Mephisto. Because at least his bird companion listens whereas caleb just ignores him.
With the click of his moving collar, he comes stalking into the room. Half naked, half hard. Erection bobbing in his sweats as he stares at the sight of your ass bouncing lecherous with the shlick sound of your sex.
It pulls him in, like the scent of food. Sylus feels an added dip in the bed and sucks his teeth.
โHey..โhe warns, โno dogs on the bedโ
Not for any particular reason, unless you count him enjoying the sight of calebโs glare after being denied as one.
When it comes to you, Caleb follows after your tail as if you came from the same litter. Not even the same species, but he wants to mate with you like you are.
Sylus canโt let that happen. For one he likes being the only one to have you like this, to fill your greedy little hole until you're happy and sleepy.
And second, caleb wonโt lay a paw on you until he learns to listen to him, his owner, in the same fashion he does for you. With utter loyalty because sylus only gets the very best.
Caleb doesnโt back down though, but he doesnโt come any closer. He sits on the edge of the bed, fluffy tail laid out, eyes stuck on where you and him connect. Sylus scoffs, a heavy arm snakes onto you as he sits up.
โAre we going to have a problem puppy?โ he asks, a glistening eyebrow raising
Youโre promptly put on your back on display, your legs slung over sylusโs massive shoulders and your eyes take in both of them staring down at you like opposite planets.
โI donโt know Sylusโ caleb says with an air of indifference, โare we?โ
Sylus answers him simply by taking you at your squirming hips and reeeels you in to bury deep into your core.
Caleb's lips part, eyes bright seeing you almost levitate with every smack of sweaty skin. Sylus bucks into your sweet spot, and you see stars surrounding the two of them,
โSso deepโ you gasp, โs-sylus!โ
โngh..why..why canโt you be as good as she is?โ sylus sighs lustfully over the sound of you and him, over how you squeeze from the praise.
Your claws sink into his meaty biceps and he melts, the pain tricking ice cold, straight to the heat coursing around his cock. He spares caleb a look just to find him staring first.
โif you behave..Iโll give you a reward.โ sylus bargains, โWonโt let you penetrate, but itโll still be worth it.โ
A deal with the devil. Caleb swallows, unable to respond.
All heโs thinking about is how cute you look. Sweaty and useless, only able to take whatever it is that youโre given and you love it. You want more, you always do. Youโre spoiled rotten from all the attention they give you, and he wouldnโt want it any other way.
Or at the very leastโ heโd like a chance to touch you where you smell the best.
A small voice inside him says listening to Sylus, the strange man responsible for him, will make it worth it. Worth having to watch you two fuck like animals.
So quietly he raises himself off the bed to kneel at the foot of it. Sylus laughs like a proud father.
โWhat a good boyโ He praises and he catches your loopy smile, โI guess he can listen huh kitten?โ
you nod, giggling through your moans. The smile you flash is blinding to the two watching you intently. Makes sylus duck a hand between the two of you to run the pads of his fingers against your clit, folds slippery that he just glides over it. finds where itโs too sensitive and every inch of you tightens. Your hand grabs his wrist, but itโs the weight of a bracelet around him.
โ I think we should let him hear how you sound when you cum donโt you?โ sylus beckons, working your pearl with every push of his cock, with every intention to make you unravel. โgo on..meow for me.โ
The sounds you make are involuntary, hardly cute but they think they are. They can both agree youโre better like this than when youโre fussy and hate everyone and everything.
Your head presses into the bed as your back rises. Itโs too much and caleb isn't helping, staring down at you like he just wants to open his wet drooling jaws and eat you whole.
Even with his cute fuzzy brown ears and big round eyes, purple like the collar sylus had wrangle him in, he looks dangerous. Just about ready to jump you and have his way with you.
Their eyes beg for you to break. Sylus kisses your cervix for it while pressing just a little more on your puffy clit. Tears spring up as youโre rushed to your peak, babbling as you see nothing but air fuzz. You whine when sylusโs hip snap almost primal to bury inside your cunt, pulse then another warm beat then you feel the flood of warmth. Feels good to where you softly moan as he spills.
โBeautiful..โ sylus pants, โand so sweet to me.โ
Before sylus could kiss you Caleb leans in.
โWhat about my reward?โ he asks, arms folding
Sylus pauses over your lips, but you peck him anyway,
โYou know.. this is the first time I'm negotiating with a dog.โ sylus laughs softly. He pulls out slowly, so tediously slow caleb canโt stop fidgeting. Neither can you. When heโs out, cock glistening and still hard, your hole stretched and squeezing, oozes out his load. A cloudy white current.
Sylus looks at caleb, โwant a taste?โ
Funny enough caleb looks choosing as he crosses over to the side to get on the bed. But ultimately heโs moving to get between your legs, and sylus grabs the silver loop at the back of his collar keeping him back.
โYouโre going to ignore the person whoโs rewarding you?โ sylus asks, shaking his head with betrayal, โbaad dog.โ
His voice drips with patronizing acid.
If caleb wasnโt red before, heโs as red as the apples he likes to steal from the table. And Sylus thinks the glare he gives him doesnโt look half bad now. Itโs better with his hair combed back on his fingers with his dick in his face.
Caleb sticks out a semi rough tongue and drags the length of it over the puffy veins that feed and separate up his shaft. Tastes of nothing but you and itโs probably why heโs suddenly eager, licking his cock like heโll just melt away if he doesnโt, taking away your essence.
โmm..guess youโre not that badโ sylus sighs petting around his ears, wet muscle curls to flatten against his tip โfuck..not bad at all..just canโt listen.โ
Sylus catches your eye, can easily see youโre enjoying yourself, watching them. Little wandering hands touching what temporarily doesnโt belong to you, but to the puppy currently yearning to sink his teeth into you.
You like it all maybe a little too much.
So he pushes caleb back towards your parted thighs. As his head ducks to feast, mouth desperate to please, tail wagging, sylus whispers behind him, โDonโt ever say I never did anything for you.โ
a/n. kinda inspired by the card but nothing related to it !
โPromise not to forget about me?โ
โDonโt make such drastic assumptions, kitten.โ Sylus laughed, stepping closer before cupping your face in his palm. โAnd that should be my line.โ His touch was warm, unusually warm, even if he was wearing gloves. But you didnโt bother to mention it and just savored the time you had.
The minutes started to feel like seconds, usually itโs supposed to be the opposite, but when Sylus was leaving without an estimated date of arrival, you couldn't hold back your feelings any longer. Who knows how long heโll be gone for?
You press your face against his coat, not only to muffle the sounds of your sobs, or show that you weren't that sad of him leaving, but he caught on way too quick. Nonetheless, despite him having to leave so soon, he didnโt stop you from letting your emotions get the best of you, or even told you to let go; he just slowly stroked your hair, soothing you with gentle movements to calm you down.
โIโll come back, donโt worry.โ
And so, you believed him.
As days turned to weeks, then weeks soon turned to monthsโyou had little to no hope of him returning anytime soon. At least for the most part you were texting and calling, but that still wasnโt enough. Each call would last only a few minutes until heโs interrupted with some work, and maybe the texts would be a little decent with never ending banter and other nonsense; but none of that compared to the one thing you craved for.
His touch.
A few months has already passed and itโs been a couple days since Sylus texted you. You were already bored out of your mind, fumbling through your room, moving your decor around for the hundredth time, checking your phone every three seconds, and most importantlyโฆ checking the door.
Every second you were just waiting for a specific sound, a specific knocking sound that would make you run immediately andโ
knock! knock! knock!
Your eyes lit up, and you hurriedly run to your door, what a coincidence! Without wasting time you fling it open without checking who it could be because you swore you knew exactly who it wasโ
Oh.
Oh.
As you pushed open the door, you were met with nobody except flowers on the ground; your favorite flowers.
Of course Sylus was the one who gave it to you, but clearly he wasnโt physically there holding the bouquet like he used to. Sighing, you peer at the halls ahead of you once more before picking up the bouquet and walking in your empty room.
But just as you were turning around, fiddling with the petals of the flowers, a thud! from behind startled you. You flinch, holding in your breath, and just hoped your brain was correct for once. It couldnโt be Sylus, right? Thereโs no wayโฆ
Still hesitant, you couldnโt help yourself from wanting to know what the sound was. And as you turn around, it hits you. That scent you could still remember even if days, weeks, months, or years passโ
Your body jolts around quickly and you barely got a glimpse of Sylusโs face before running into his arms.
โSylus!โ
โMissed me, kitten?โ
You barely answer, words couldnโt even utter out of your mouth and all you could do was sputter a laugh. Of course you missed him, you missed him so, soโฆ bad.
Really bad.
-
โI was still calling you, no?โ
โB-But- hngh- it wasnโt enough!โ You whine, gripping onto the disheveled sheets beneath you with one hand, while the other grips onto his veined muscle. He was tense, and you could see and feel it clearly. His arm flexed with every thrust, the grip on your hips was tight; he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.
โMmh, right, not enough.โ He agreed, though you could hear a slight mockery laced in his voice, which only caused you to roll your eyes in response.
As the rhythm of his hips started to wound you, practically making it impossible for you to focus, your eyes squeeze shut as you bite down on your bruised lipsโcaused by him devouring you when he stepped foot in your placeโtrying to hold back your pathetic noises. But it was getting impossible by the second. And unfortunately, Sylus noticed and chuckled, not giving a verbal response but rather aโฆ physical one.
One deeep thrust slammed right into you, causing you to spit out a choked gasp. Your legs instinctively curl around his hips, clinging onto him tightly as he continues to stuff your pussy full.
โDonโt go quiet on me now, itโs been nearly t-three months and you- hah- you donโt want to speak to me anymore?โ
When you donโt answer the first time, Sylus just blew an airy whistle in your face, watching your lashes flutter at the cool sensation. โOh, Iโm hurt, sweetie.โ
You shake your head, denying his oh so wrong statement. You wanted to speak, you wanted to tell him everything but when heโs practically fucking you dumb, only because he hasnโt had a touch of you in forever, you could barely speak properly! โNo! I-itโs not that- fuck-โ
โ-I missed you, Sylus!โ You cry out, throwing your head back as your hips were starting to give up on you. โI m-missed youโโ
He lets out an amused chuckle and thrusts deeperโharder. Before you realize it, the look in his eye started to look dangerously different compared to a few seconds ago. The color was prominently brighter, almost as if you stare longer it couldโ
โAgain. Say it again.โ
โI missed you so much!โ Ngh- I was waiting for you for-forever- Please donโt- hck!โ
Sylus only scoffed in response, โIโฆโ
You clamp around him and it only makes him hiss before he continues, โโฆI missed you too, sweetie.โ His hands, still wrapped around your hips, eventually travelled along your body, slowly gliding against your warm skin. His touch was burning, and one that could kill. You twitch the closer he gets to your chest.
When his fingers pause for a second, just stopping millimetres away from your tits, he lightly pinched at your skin and couldnโt help but smile at himself. โI missed you. Every. Single. Day.โ
โDonโt leave me again.โ You pout in feigned sorrow, grabbing onto his wrists and gently lifting his arm so you could hold onto his hand. The same warm one you always held onto, especially before he left.
A moment of silence passed between the two of you and Sylus just hums quietly before leaning in to give you a kiss.
โNever.โ
a/n. i woulda done it based off the card but i felt bad, oh well. also i havenโt written smut in like over a month so donโt flame me
traps fairy!reader in a jar... now you're his greatest obsession.
๐๐ฐ. nerdjo ยท yandere themes ยท experimentation ( not on reader ) ยท creepy satoru ยท oddly fluffy ยท stockholm syndrome ยท worship ยท slight idolisation ยท satoru's so whipped it's kinda cute
ย ๐ ยท yandere researcher!nerdjo loved picking apart magical beings. figuring out how they work. how he could use their supernatural capabilities in alchemy and artifice trades alike. he's got magical body parts stuffed in jars and rowed on his shelves. from unicorn horns to vampire teeth, dragon eyes and goblin hands. but above all, he's been awed by the mythical, elusive fairy. he's got an entire taxidermy wall of butterfly wings in dedication to them.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo has been obsessed with fairies from a young age. from fairytales to frightening fascination, he's now driven himself mad trying to capture one. he'd honed all of his skills, yet still couldn't get his hands on oneโฆ until you came along.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo knew that he needed to have you the second he saw you. prancing around the flowers in his garden, pretty and as peaceful as you could be. you even gave him a little smile from your hiding spot. he pretended not to see you, even as his chest fluttered. but in his eyes? you were perfect.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo was surprised that the sweet treat on a mushroom top trick worked.
"well, aren't you the prettiest little thing?" he cooed on that fateful day he trapped your wing under his thumb. while you squirmed in the thick blades of grass.
his sharp grin loomed above you. watching you over the rim of his copper-framed glasses. and within his eyes, you saw something that terrified you.
hearts.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo perfectly prepared your jar. he cushioned the bottom with soil and moss. a slab of bark laid on side, with a network of flourishing, pink mushrooms growing along its length. a polished pebble for you to perch on, right beside the singular, blooming daisy where you could sleep. he wasn't a monster, after allโฆ
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo watched you with fascination as you tapped on the glass helplessly, your wings batting and your tears shimmery. so fairy dust was real.
"please."
your tiny hands smacked into the glass. peering up at the man as he sat at a table and chair. "please, why won't you let me go? I'll do anything."
he had scooped the jar into his hand, levelling you with those terrifying blues. "now, why would I let something so pretty go?" he crooked his head, snowy hair dangling to the side.
"i've waited for you for many years, sweetheart. don't be selfish."
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo would give you everything you ever needed. food wasn't an issue, every day, he fed you something new. a juicy strawberry. honey and puffballs. mango slices. crackers. one time he even tried to hold you in his palm and feed you a small piece of vanilla cake.
you bit him.
he smiled.
"I suppose even pretty things can be feisty." his grip tightened on you, ever so slightly. a thumb brushing over your wings that fluttered erratically.
"let me go! you monster!" you squeaked.
he tutted, stroking his thumb over your back in a tender path. "sshhh, sweet thing. you'll bruise your little lungsโฆ"
he continued the motion until your wreckless squirming melted. your head limped on his knuckle, your limbs still, and your head droopy.
he chuckled, carefully scooping you back into your jar. "thankfully, I've studied your kind extensively. I know you intimately, sweetheart."
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo sometimes lets you out of the jar, but only when you have manners. he doesn't have to worry about you flying away, because he always so meticulously ties your wings with a silk ribbon.
"remain still for me, okay?" he hushed at you, kissing your head as you thrashed and shouted at him.
he even tied it into a pretty bow, before he set you atop one of his books.
"why do you do this?" you huffed, balling your little fists as you helplessly tried to flutter your wings. "how can you be so twisted to keep me here?"
satoru always spoke to you as if you were a flower. even lowering his head to be at eye level with you. lashes fluttering, almost droopy in the presence of your beauty.
"am I so twisted for being in love with you?"
the way your eyes gaped at him made him smile. he brought his pinkie to gently poke at your head. "what? am I?"
"you're insaneโฆ" your murmur sounded frightened. fear looked pretty on you, too.
"maybe," his voice lowered to a whisper. "or maybe I'm just very dedicated to my work."
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo made little tools out of silver to help fix your hair. he'd do the usual routine of scooping you out of the jar, tying your wings and sitting you on his palm, before he set to work on carefully helping you.
"I made these for you." he'd say affectionately.
and when you didn't respond, he blew a bit of air onto your wings until you squirmed and giggled.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo makes sure to let you have a little soak in one of his favourite teacups with some warm water. no, he doesn't peep at you. he's not a creep. a pretty little lady like yourself needs her privacy, after all.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo sometimes takes you out to dance you around the windowsill when the moon shines just right. he lets you hold onto his pinkies. twirls and dips you all night long. treating you as delicate as a flower as he watches you with awestruck eyes.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo brings you bundles of flowers to drink nectar from. he'll nudge your chin up so gently with his index nail and feed you himself. makes sure you don't choke.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo wraps you up in his glasses cloth when it gets too cold, or sometimes even scoops you into his pocket where you can nap to the sound of his heartbeat.
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo despite being so gentle, would remind you what kind of man he was. not all of the times he plucked you from the jar were for your benefit.
at times, he'd tie your wings a little tighter. laying you out on a leather-bound notebook and analysing you piece by piece.
"fascinating," he mumbled, prodding at your arm with a flat, wooden stick. applying pressure. testing. "your limbs are stronger than they look. is it your magic, I wonder?"
he spoke about wanting to take you apart. bit by bit, to understand you better. when you gave him a horrified look, he chuckled, cocking his head as he tickled your wings.
"what, sweetheart? wouldn't it be intimate?"
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo wouldn't ever hurt you. he didn't think he had it in him. you were too soft, too elegant, too pretty. it broke his heart whenever he'd see you weeping in your jar.
"don't cryโฆ please don't cry," he'd whisper as he laid his head beside the jar. watching you with sullen blue eyes.
you'd cry for him to let you go, and it ached a deep part of him.
"I can't. I'm sorry, sweet thing." his lips brushed the glass, a sincere apology from a man so sadistic. "I need you." came his shaky breath.
"I need you here. with me. I'm just so lonely. please don't hate me."
ย ๐ย ย ยทย ย yandereย researcher!nerdjo saw you staring at the wall of wings while he worked, once. silent and wide eyed.
he sorely misinterpreted you, tilting his head with a crooked smile. "do you like any of them?"
scooping you out of the jar, he cradled you in his palm. "I could make you a dressโฆ would you like that?"
your look of horror bewildered him, and when tears streamed down your face, he rushed to soothe you. brushing away your tears with a petal plucked from a flower on his desk.
when you told him why you weptโ because you thought the wings were your fallen brethren, his face twisted. almost disgusted that you could compare your pristine, perfect wings to those baneful butterflies. still, his shoulder shook with a little laugh. he found it morbidly amusing.
"oh, my sweetheart. of course not," he cooed at you. "those are butterflies. you are the only fairy I've had in my grasp."
pale lips brushed your little head, ever delicate. as he whispered. soft, lovingly.
"that's why you're so special to me."
you didn't look too convinced. your small sniffles broke his heart, so he sighed as he gently nudged you over. till you were slumped over his thumb and forefinger.
"sweetheart, please don't insult yourself so," he lightly scolded. "butterfly wings are so brittle. so dull. but yoursโฆ"
his other index slowly, tenderly brushed down your spine. tracing your wings in that same gentle, sick fascination he always had.
"yours are pristine. delicateโฆ perfect."
his shaky breath tickled your wings, and they twitched. his throat ran dry. heart hammering a bit faster at this little, intimate moment.
with a gentle squeeze to you, he leaned down. pressing a slow, velvet kiss to your wings. smiling into them as they fluttered and you pitched a whine.
"see?" satoru breathed, lips brushing over their little twitches. his smile was soft, sick.
"these are all mine. my special little sweetheart."
ยฉ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. art cred: @/poafie (ig)
๐ทโก enjoyed this piece? consider joining my patreon or commissioning me <3 I appreciate all the support!
โก. should I make this into a series? also what do you think of the new layouutttt
7am and the first thing on my mind is Sylus waking you up with head. Even with your opposite sleep schedules, he would still make sure to find time in his schedule to slink back into your shared bedroom and carefully climb under the covers. Nuzzling himself into your warmth, letting himself get enveloped by your scent before sinking lower. Unable to help himself as he carefully spreads your thighs and slots his head between them. Running the tip of his nose up the center of your panties, warm from sleep.
โAlready wet? What are you dreaming about, hmm?โ
It's a bit of a random question but I've seen this fanart pop up more often (trend where the two characters suddenly time travel to the future and see their future selves romantically involved), how do you think would past SylusMC (during LAR) react to present day SylusMC and their dynamic? It would also be interesting to think of how SylusMC's myth versions would react to present day main timeline version of themselves.
cw sex, fluff
"This is some sort of metaflux fuckery." You blink. Rub your eyes with your fists like a little kid. "This is some kind of metaflux fuckery, right?"
But the vision before you remains unchanged even though it's... very dynamic. Lots of ... moving parts.
"Is it?" Sylus's deep voice drawls next to your ear, muffled with mirth.
He had thrown himself in front of you when the metaflux fluctuations became so unstable that the world melted around you, just as you grabbed his hand and sent your resonance through him, throwing up a golden shield laced with black and red as you connected to his soul. As always, the scent of bittersweet flowers now drifts in the air.
"What else could the answer be?" you plead, voice rising in distress, staring over his shoulder with wide, wide eyes.
What other explanation is there for the horror show playing out before you, not censored at all by the protective, shimmering golden veil of your evol's shield. Heavy wall hangings, like some medieval castle shit, bizarrely placed in some sort of underground hot spring. Who thought that was a good idea? The mold management with all that fabric would be a nightmare in such a humid spaceโ
His nose brushes your cheek as he looks back over his shoulder at the... abomination behind him. "Well, you're not wrong about the fuck-ery." A beat, his breath soft, liquor sweet against your skin. You expect more jokes, with how amused he sounds. But he simply says, "But it looks like love, to me."
You turn your head, a slow pan to the criminal beside you, cradling you in his arms. The man who choked you, starved you, deprived you of water while falsely imprisoning you for three days. The man who called you weak and a disappointment. The man who has you on a leash by the Aether core in your heart and whose only reason for spending time with you is the debt you still have to repay, .
He's radiating... smugness? Happiness?
He's smug, spouting nonsense about love, when just on the other side of the veil, another you and another him are ... are...
You push away from him, eliciting a displeased little grunt from him, before blinking again. Rubbing your eyes, pressing hard this time.
"No need to blind yourself, sweetie. Or if you insist, you should use a proper instrument to do the job." He tilts his head, tapping a finger against his temple. "A screwdriver. Or an icepick."
Dropping your clenched fists to your sides, you scowl at him, flexing and unflexing your fingers. "Not helpful."
"What's there to help? Whether you're blind or not won't change what we're looking at." Dropping his hand, he brushes nonexistent lint from his pristine, tailored suit before returning to openly admiring the view. "And I see no problem with what we're seeing."
"No problem? No problem? You don't see any problem withโ"
A deep, keening moan penetrates the shield.
His eyes flick to yours as if to ensure that you also just heard what he just heard.
Why isn't the shield soundproof as well as bulletproof?
"Problem? It looks like you're having the time of your life." Hand covering his mouth now, as if his big palm could cover the even bigger shit-eating grin currently on his face, he snickers. "Sounds like it, as well."
Much to your fury, you do sound like you're having the time of your life. You're making noises you've never made before, and expressions you've never, ever seen on your face before, all right there, a nightmarish, live-action shitshow only a few paces away, impossible to deny.
"Well, you look like an animal in rut, mounting me likeโ" you snarl, before stopping yourself. The worst thing you can do when Sylus is gloating is to feed him your reactions; they're just nuclear fuel to his reactor. And you don't even know why you're hurling this at him like an insult to begin with. As if fucking like an animal is a bad thing. As if the way his hips are thrusting, steady and rolling, gracefully lithe like he always is, the way he's fisting your hair in one big hand, pulling your head back, gently exposing your throat, his firm, tender grip bowing your back into a gentle curve a delicious contradiction to his mercilessly snapping hipsโas if making love with that kind of passion is somehow offensive. As if you don't dream about having the kind of sex you're currently watching yourself have.
You stare at yourself, your face ecstatic, drunk with pleasure, until it becomes unbearable. Instead, you focus on him. He's looking at this other you, not with bored disdain, but with an expression you don't even have a name for-worship entwined with famine, adoration and triumph, as if he's attained everything his heart has ever wanted and now he's glorying in every single noise and choked breath he can pull from you with his body.
"Now now, no need to call names." He doesn't sound offended at all. "And aren't we all just animals in rut, when caught in the throes of passion?"
"I can't with you right now. Doesn't this bother you? To see yourself fucking the last person you'd ever want touching you?" To ensure that there is no confusion, you fling out your arm at the wild lovemaking occurring almost within that same arm's reach, as if showcasing the consolation prize of an already-cancelled game show, voice keening more loudly than the other you now screaming Sylus's name.
You're desperate. Desperate to distract yourself from how unbearably hot he looks like this, and from how much your heart hurts seeing yourself have everything you've caught yourself yearning for, as flashes of his kindness, his humor, his good heart flare and die out, snuffed out by his usual blank indifference, every time you've met him since the auction. You have never even dared imagine what you're now looking at because he has always been an impossible dream, even if you could admit to yourself that he has become a dream to you. The man you thought had killed your brother, the man most wanted by your employer, the man more likely to drop you into a lake with cement blocks strapped to your ankles once you're no longer useful than to drop a kiss on your nose.
His smug amusement fades abruptly as he asks, "Who said you're the last person I'd want touching me?"
"What?" You whip your head around, wondering if this is another mind game of his.
"What?" he echoes, lifting one curious silver brow. "Did I ever say that?"
You glare at him. "Actions speak louder than words."
He glances at the other version of you, as the other version of him flips you onto your back, slips back into you, and smothers your face and throat in kisses punctuated with long swipes of his tongue. "Do those look like the actions of a man who would rather be touching someone else?"
You throw up your hands, desperately clinging to exasperation instead of despair. "That's not really us!"
"Not yet," he shrugs. "Too bad."
Jaw dropping, you tilt your head. "Wait, what? You think that's us from the future?"
He smiles, with just a hint of sharp teeth. "Just say the word and it can be."
"Stop fucking around, Sylus!"
"Screaming my name in frustration is a start, but I like what I'm hearing over there more," he points at the other you, now mewling his name as the other Sylus gently swats your sweaty cheek, caresses your hair, and then proceeds to maul your mouth with his own, all while continuing to grind his hips against you.
That grinding of his hips-you know yourself well enough to know that that's exactly what you'd need to orgasm. And the other Sylus knows you well enough to know that too.
"This isn't funny anymore," you whisper, turning away from what you'll never have.
Until your Sylus's calloused fingertips slide along your jaw and guide your face up, up, until you have no choice but to look into his crimson eyes, softer than you've ever seen them.
"It was never funny. It was always serious. I'm," he pauses, voice softening to match his eyes. "Always serious, when it comes to you."
"But you despise me!" You swear to god, you will jab an icepick into your eyes if you start crying and he starts mocking you for taking him seriously when he's clearly fucking with you.
"I think you're projecting, Kitten," he murmurs, and for the first time since you've met him, his voice is a cocktail full of regret, with a shot of sorrow. "Aren't you the one who despises me?"
His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, and you're afraid to move. Afraid he'll stop touching you like this, an echo of how the other Sylus is touching the other you, with such reverent affection. "I haven't despised you since I figured out you aren't... you aren't what I thought you were." Killer of your only family. A blight on the N109 zone. A threat to Linkon's citizens. A depraved demon, worthy only of a swift execution and quickly forgotten.
His red, red eyes search yours as if sifting through your soul for the truth, but his Aether core doesn't glow.
"And I've never once despised you, either. Not from the beginning." His eyes bore into yours as his other hand joins his first, cupping your face in their calloused strength. "Not ever."
A loud roarโthe other Sylus shouting your name as he climaxesโshatters the moment.
Without turning to look, you grin up at your Sylus. "You sound like you're having the time of your life."
Your Sylus just laughs, soft and low, before leaning down, his lips a breath from yours. "I bet that we can have an even better time than those two. Shall we find out for ourselves?"
You gaze up at him, admiring the crow's feet at the edges of his smiling eyes, the long slope of his nose, his silky hair falling softly onto your own forehead. "You really don't despise me?"
He shakes his head, a little movement as he presses his forehead to yours. "I should be asking you that, beloved."
Then what else could the answer be? "Then that bet is on," you laugh, surging up, pressing your lips to his for the first time.
I'm sorry you asked a serious thoughtful question and I gave you a stupid (not even very proper) smut scene.
I think Sylus would feel encouraged, any discouragement fading back into the certainty that if he just keeps trying, he will find his way back into MC's arms, right where he belongs. I think how MC would react depends on the MC. Canon MC would probably refuse to believe it and flounce away or hand wave it away with excuses of metaflux abnormalities.
I think Countess MC would turn to Sylus, lift an eyebrow, and say, "Incredible, I was sure I'd kill you first," and Archfiend would just laugh, seemingly taking it in stride before insisting he was very 'thirsty' and it was time to retreat to the coffin while interrogating his own feelings about why it made him so happy to see how loving their future selves were, unless they had already gone through their ordeal and they were seeing their main story future selves, in which case he'd just think, 'Of course,' because he'll find her in every lifetime, and will always make his way back to her.
And I think Staryus and Sorceress MC would be so relievedโhe didn't go insane and destroy his beloved after all, and she wasn't doomed to wander alone after her dragon was gone.
Thank you for this really fun, interesting ask! If you'd rather I respond with a more critical analysis of the question, let me know and i'll more a more thorough essay <3
It's a bit of a random question but I've seen this fanart pop up more often (trend where the two characters suddenly time travel to the future and see their future selves romantically involved), how do you think would past SylusMC (during LAR) react to present day SylusMC and their dynamic? It would also be interesting to think of how SylusMC's myth versions would react to present day main timeline version of themselves.
cw sex, fluff
"This is some sort of metaflux fuckery." You blink. Rub your eyes with your fists like a little kid. "This is some kind of metaflux fuckery, right?"
But the vision before you remains unchanged even though it's... very dynamic. Lots of ... moving parts.
"Is it?" Sylus's deep voice drawls next to your ear, muffled with mirth.
He had thrown himself in front of you when the metaflux fluctuations became so unstable that the world melted around you, just as you grabbed his hand and sent your resonance through him, throwing up a golden shield laced with black and red as you connected to his soul. As always, the scent of bittersweet flowers now drifts in the air.
"What else could the answer be?" you plead, voice rising in distress, staring over his shoulder with wide, wide eyes.
What other explanation is there for the horror show playing out before you, not censored at all by the protective, shimmering golden veil of your evol's shield. Heavy wall hangings, like some medieval castle shit, bizarrely placed in some sort of underground hot spring. Who thought that was a good idea? The mold management with all that fabric would be a nightmare in such a humid spaceโ
His nose brushes your cheek as he looks back over his shoulder at the... abomination behind him. "Well, you're not wrong about the fuck-ery." A beat, his breath soft, liquor sweet against your skin. You expect more jokes, with how amused he sounds. But he simply says, "But it looks like love, to me."
You turn your head, a slow pan to the criminal beside you, cradling you in his arms. The man who choked you, starved you, deprived you of water while falsely imprisoning you for three days. The man who called you weak and a disappointment. The man who has you on a leash by the Aether core in your heart and whose only reason for spending time with you is the debt you still have to repay, .
He's radiating... smugness? Happiness?
He's smug, spouting nonsense about love, when just on the other side of the veil, another you and another him are ... are...
You push away from him, eliciting a displeased little grunt from him, before blinking again. Rubbing your eyes, pressing hard this time.
"No need to blind yourself, sweetie. Or if you insist, you should use a proper instrument to do the job." He tilts his head, tapping a finger against his temple. "A screwdriver. Or an icepick."
Dropping your clenched fists to your sides, you scowl at him, flexing and unflexing your fingers. "Not helpful."
"What's there to help? Whether you're blind or not won't change what we're looking at." Dropping his hand, he brushes nonexistent lint from his pristine, tailored suit before returning to openly admiring the view. "And I see no problem with what we're seeing."
"No problem? No problem? You don't see any problem withโ"
A deep, keening moan penetrates the shield.
His eyes flick to yours as if to ensure that you also just heard what he just heard.
Why isn't the shield soundproof as well as bulletproof?
"Problem? It looks like you're having the time of your life." Hand covering his mouth now, as if his big palm could cover the even bigger shit-eating grin currently on his face, he snickers. "Sounds like it, as well."
Much to your fury, you do sound like you're having the time of your life. You're making noises you've never made before, and expressions you've never, ever seen on your face before, all right there, a nightmarish, live-action shitshow only a few paces away, impossible to deny.
"Well, you look like an animal in rut, mounting me likeโ" you snarl, before stopping yourself. The worst thing you can do when Sylus is gloating is to feed him your reactions; they're just nuclear fuel to his reactor. And you don't even know why you're hurling this at him like an insult to begin with. As if fucking like an animal is a bad thing. As if the way his hips are thrusting, steady and rolling, gracefully lithe like he always is, the way he's fisting your hair in one big hand, pulling your head back, gently exposing your throat, his firm, tender grip bowing your back into a gentle curve a delicious contradiction to his mercilessly snapping hipsโas if making love with that kind of passion is somehow offensive. As if you don't dream about having the kind of sex you're currently watching yourself have.
You stare at yourself, your face ecstatic, drunk with pleasure, until it becomes unbearable. Instead, you focus on him. He's looking at this other you, not with bored disdain, but with an expression you don't even have a name for-worship entwined with famine, adoration and triumph, as if he's attained everything his heart has ever wanted and now he's glorying in every single noise and choked breath he can pull from you with his body.
"Now now, no need to call names." He doesn't sound offended at all. "And aren't we all just animals in rut, when caught in the throes of passion?"
"I can't with you right now. Doesn't this bother you? To see yourself fucking the last person you'd ever want touching you?" To ensure that there is no confusion, you fling out your arm at the wild lovemaking occurring almost within that same arm's reach, as if showcasing the consolation prize of an already-cancelled game show, voice keening more loudly than the other you now screaming Sylus's name.
You're desperate. Desperate to distract yourself from how unbearably hot he looks like this, and from how much your heart hurts seeing yourself have everything you've caught yourself yearning for, as flashes of his kindness, his humor, his good heart flare and die out, snuffed out by his usual blank indifference, every time you've met him since the auction. You have never even dared imagine what you're now looking at because he has always been an impossible dream, even if you could admit to yourself that he has become a dream to you. The man you thought had killed your brother, the man most wanted by your employer, the man more likely to drop you into a lake with cement blocks strapped to your ankles once you're no longer useful than to drop a kiss on your nose.
His smug amusement fades abruptly as he asks, "Who said you're the last person I'd want touching me?"
"What?" You whip your head around, wondering if this is another mind game of his.
"What?" he echoes, lifting one curious silver brow. "Did I ever say that?"
You glare at him. "Actions speak louder than words."
He glances at the other version of you, as the other version of him flips you onto your back, slips back into you, and smothers your face and throat in kisses punctuated with long swipes of his tongue. "Do those look like the actions of a man who would rather be touching someone else?"
You throw up your hands, desperately clinging to exasperation instead of despair. "That's not really us!"
"Not yet," he shrugs. "Too bad."
Jaw dropping, you tilt your head. "Wait, what? You think that's us from the future?"
He smiles, with just a hint of sharp teeth. "Just say the word and it can be."
"Stop fucking around, Sylus!"
"Screaming my name in frustration is a start, but I like what I'm hearing over there more," he points at the other you, now mewling his name as the other Sylus gently swats your sweaty cheek, caresses your hair, and then proceeds to maul your mouth with his own, all while continuing to grind his hips against you.
That grinding of his hips-you know yourself well enough to know that that's exactly what you'd need to orgasm. And the other Sylus knows you well enough to know that too.
"This isn't funny anymore," you whisper, turning away from what you'll never have.
Until your Sylus's calloused fingertips slide along your jaw and guide your face up, up, until you have no choice but to look into his crimson eyes, softer than you've ever seen them.
"It was never funny. It was always serious. I'm," he pauses, voice softening to match his eyes. "Always serious, when it comes to you."
"But you despise me!" You swear to god, you will jab an icepick into your eyes if you start crying and he starts mocking you for taking him seriously when he's clearly fucking with you.
"I think you're projecting, Kitten," he murmurs, and for the first time since you've met him, his voice is a cocktail full of regret, with a shot of sorrow. "Aren't you the one who despises me?"
His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, and you're afraid to move. Afraid he'll stop touching you like this, an echo of how the other Sylus is touching the other you, with such reverent affection. "I haven't despised you since I figured out you aren't... you aren't what I thought you were." Killer of your only family. A blight on the N109 zone. A threat to Linkon's citizens. A depraved demon, worthy only of a swift execution and quickly forgotten.
His red, red eyes search yours as if sifting through your soul for the truth, but his Aether core doesn't glow.
"And I've never once despised you, either. Not from the beginning." His eyes bore into yours as his other hand joins his first, cupping your face in their calloused strength. "Not ever."
A loud roarโthe other Sylus shouting your name as he climaxesโshatters the moment.
Without turning to look, you grin up at your Sylus. "You sound like you're having the time of your life."
Your Sylus just laughs, soft and low, before leaning down, his lips a breath from yours. "I bet that we can have an even better time than those two. Shall we find out for ourselves?"
You gaze up at him, admiring the crow's feet at the edges of his smiling eyes, the long slope of his nose, his silky hair falling softly onto your own forehead. "You really don't despise me?"
He shakes his head, a little movement as he presses his forehead to yours. "I should be asking you that, beloved."
Then what else could the answer be? "Then that bet is on," you laugh, surging up, pressing your lips to his for the first time.
I'm sorry you asked a serious thoughtful question and I gave you a stupid (not even very proper) smut scene.
I think Sylus would feel encouraged, any discouragement fading back into the certainty that if he just keeps trying, he will find his way back into MC's arms, right where he belongs. I think how MC would react depends on the MC. Canon MC would probably refuse to believe it and flounce away or hand wave it away with excuses of metaflux abnormalities.
I think Countess MC would turn to Sylus, lift an eyebrow, and say, "Incredible, I was sure I'd kill you first," and Archfiend would just laugh, seemingly taking it in stride before insisting he was very 'thirsty' and it was time to retreat to the coffin while interrogating his own feelings about why it made him so happy to see how loving their future selves were, unless they had already gone through their ordeal and they were seeing their main story future selves, in which case he'd just think, 'Of course,' because he'll find her in every lifetime, and will always make his way back to her.
And I think Staryus and Sorceress MC would be so relievedโhe didn't go insane and destroy his beloved after all, and she wasn't doomed to wander alone after her dragon was gone.
Thank you for this really fun, interesting ask! If you'd rather I respond with a more critical analysis of the question, let me know and i'll more a more thorough essay <3
CW: massaging, teasing, fingering, hands-free orgasm for zaynie baby
thank u @spacekittiesmeow for reading over the beginning... mwahhhh
there is nothing but pure pleasure flowing through zayne in this moment. watching you squirm beautifully as he teaches your body how to behave for him is a satisfaction heโll certainly never grow tired of.
you lie naked on top of him, your back flushed and warm against the firmness of his chest. you obey when he tells you to, squirting a generous puddle of body-safe oil onto his palm and watch the slow, unhurried way his scarred hands rub together, warming the lubricant.
the massage begins at the base of your thighs, his palms gliding in an lazy rhythm as he prepares to unravel you properly. he works circles into your skin, always just shy of where you want him most. kneading the soft swell of your upper thigh, his knuckles graze the very edge of your core, making you twitch and bury your face into his bicep.
zayne only presses a soft kiss behind your ear in response, his lips lingering long enough to feel you shiver. then heโs shifting you slightly higher, propping up your hips to give himself the perfect view. his hands resume their slow path, flat palms dragging over you in long, sweeping strokesโup... and down, up... and downโuntil your breath turns uneven and you're mewling for more.
when he finally slides his fingers inward, it's not what you were hoping for. two fingers smear the oil over your outer lips, slicking the swollen folds before tugging them. he examines you spread out, pink and swollen and all for him.
"shh. stay still," he murmurs, the instruction soft and affectionate when your hips press forward.
"zayneโฆ" you exhale sweet and restless. "โฆplease."
he just hums, acknowledging you, but not fully obeying. four slick fingers glide down the center of your heat in a teasing line that make your whole body jolt. he grazes your clit once, and then completely avoids it.
"be patient, my love," he reminds you, already withdrawing his hand entirely. using his leg, he gently forces your thighs wider. "the longer we wait, the better it feels."
you shudder, trying to melt against him, but the surrender fuels zayne's own restraint, and he settles deeper into the pillows.
when his hand returns, the side of his thumb presses into the crease where your thigh meets your pussy, applying a firm pressure that makes your entire body ache. then he moves, massaging everything around your throbbing clit, which he refuses to touch.
"zaynieโฆ" you whimper. "need moreโฆ need it s'badโฆ"
"i know," he coos, nuzzling into your skin as his hips subtly shift, pressing against you from behind. "but the answer is still no. just a bit longer."
the tip of his index drags up from your entrance, stopping just beneath your puffy bud, collecting your slick, ensuring you are thoroughly soaked for him.
"can you do that for me?" he removes the touch, caressing your hips. "mm?"
you nod quickly, tilting your pelvis up in hopes for release. "y-yeahโฆ o-okay."
your reward is cruel in it's softnessโhis fingertip barely skimming you. feather-light, hypnotic swirls around the hood of your clit. once. then again. as much as you want to beg and plead for more, you just tremble and take it, trusting it will pay off.
and zayne's restraint can only last so long when you're melting like this in his arms, making those little, broken noises for himโmaking him question who is really practicing patience here.
in a blink, two fingers press in properly, circling your clit in one slow, controlled motion before fleeting to smear the sticky mess on the top of your pussy.
"mmmโnghhโ!"
you bite your lip hard, trembling as he finally gives in, continuing to flick your neglected clit. words dissolve, your face flushing hot as you cum within seconds of the first contact.
when you return from the euphoric daze, something warm and thick is trickling down your lower back. behind you, zayne's chest rapidly rises and falls, a blush creeping up his neck and reaching the tips of his ears.
"women don't have a refractory period after orgasm. which would imply that there isn't an established maximum number of orgasms a woman can have in one session." you explain.
"makes one wonder what it's like for men, no?"
he exhales through his nose, taking his glasses off. โI must ask,โ lips twitching to suppress a fond smile. โwhere youโre sourcing these facts.โ
how you get to the bedroom afterward is just a blurry mess of tongue and teeth and spit.
What part of you hadnโt fucked his still-hard cock? He was well past coherent thought now, senses dulled, pliant. as if drunk.
his thighs twitch as you keep pumping him slow and tight. his forearm drapes over his eyes, mouth parting as pretty sounds spill free.
โweโre at four,โ you remind him, generous enough to keep count for him. you doubt he still can.
โh-how long do you plan onโmmhโgoing?โ he drags his arm down just to watch your hand work him.
โtill you shoot blanks," you hum, just as affected as him.
The way his length jumps at every touch to his mess-slick tip, cum already frothing thick lewdly at the base, the way his whimpers keep slipping looseโhas you pulsing around nothing. zayneโs fingers find your folds, gathering the slick mix of your translucent arousal and his creamy spend as it dribbles down, pooling on the sheets.
his knuckles brush your clit. it makes you jolt and you swat his hand away. his cock jerks hard in your grip. Oh. is he into that?
โdonโt distract me,โ you murmur, lifting his hand to your mouth instead. You kiss his fingertips, slow.
His gaze goes glassy. you take two of his fingers in, sucking gently. The sound he makes is wrecked. downright sinfulโsomething you've never heard before. his jaw clenches to hold back sounds. still, you bite the tip of his fingers.
and that's all it takes. he lets out a shuddered whimper as thick jets of cum spurt into your hand.
you give him a moment to breathe, to ride out his orgasm, before you straddle him. He opens his mouth to protest but it dies in his throat as soon as your juicy pussy lips rub over his hardening length.
"just one more and then we stop." you promise. seeing his state, he likely wouldn't be able to see the endeavor through. his cock stiffens once you slip it in you.
"your dedication to your work," a lazy smirk plays on his face, hands finding your hips as you begin to move on him. "Is very attractive."
"godโyou're way too big," you savour the fullness that comes with being impaled on his perfectly chubby cock. zayne pulls you into a sloppy, messy kiss, his sticky spend stretching in obscene strings against your ass each time you bounce on him, wet plaps filling the room.
"push meโhah!โas far as you want." he murmurs into the kiss, before he lets out a small moan when you keep tightening at his words, gripping his poor, oversensitive dick like a vice.
your pace grows insistent. desperate. his swollen head drags along every ridge of your tight walls so wonderfully that your vision blurs. zayne's lips go lower, placing open mouthed kisses on your collarbone, the curve of your tits, eating up his drying cum.
how can you last long when he's like this? One brush to your clit and youโre breaking, sobbing as you clamp down and milk him for another orgasm. he groans, spilling again.
still, zayne manages to spread your folds apart, watching your hole twitch around him, until his cum creams hot around the stretched rim of you.
his fingers trace it, where your hole pulses around him in the last throes of your release.
"wanna take a picture?" You tease.
part 3 of the FOR SCIENCE series
"no. this sightโ" his eyes never leave the place you're joined. "Is for my eyes alone."
when the kamo clan sent you out for the assassination of ๐๐๐๐, you were warned of a few things.
he was incredibly fast, impossibly strong and fought with an intensity that shook the jujutsu world. a hulking, predatory, yet oddly intelligent freak of a man.
but you didn't expect this.
โmm what're they feedin' ya back at that clan? probably not good dick like this, huh?โ
that scarred lip pulled back in a grin. you could barely bite back as a filthy grind on your cervix melted away all your curses. the only talking spluttered from your dripping pussy.
โfuckโ fushigโ hngh!โ your thighs are wedged further up the wall, knees pinned beside your tits as his thrusts turn into a feral hammer.
the bastard leans in, grin sharper, eyes darker. โthe name's toji, baby, won't you say it for me?โ
his cock snapped into your gummy walls as it trying to engrave it's behemoth of a shape within you. a token for you to take back. โI didn't take out fushiguro toji but i sure as hell took him.โ
โc'mon dollface, sing for me.โ
his large palms squeezed on the backs of your knees and his hips committed to a sweltering rhythm. knocking up until your quivering slit took him all the way and cried around his hilt. all while he ground up into that devastating spot. slowly, roughly, until you left a perfect ring of cream around him.
โt-tojโ toji,โ
he grinned at your voice crack and bent over you. hooking your leg over his muscles shoulder so his forearm could slam beside your head. โthere you go. sing it for me.โ
before his wet slaps assaulted your clenching cunt until all you could was pitifully sob and dig your nails down his back. arch into the man you're supposed to be gutting.
but here he is. rearranging in your guts and husking to your ear all smug.
โthink you're better suited for this. think you'd make a better whore than assassin, yeah? pretty pussy sure says so.โ
ยฉ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/uzmacchiato. first time writing for toji how'd I do?
8.Cuddles that get sexual then sweet again with Xavier.(Early in relationship)
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
๐MDNI๐
The movie had been on for maybe forty minutes before both of you stopped watching it.
You'd started on opposite ends of the couch, then closer, then his arm was around you and your head was against his chest, and at some point you'd shifted so your back was to him, his chest warm against your shoulder blades, legs tucked behind yours. The TV murmured while the rain outside tapped the window.
"You still awake?" Xavier asked. His voice sounded relaxed.
"Barely," you admitted.
He made a soft sound against the back of your neck. Almost a laugh. His arm, draped over your waist, tightened just a little bit, like he was checking you were still there.
For a while that was enough. The warmth of him, the slow rise and fall of his breathing, his thumb tracing absent little circles against the fabric of your shirt. Back and forth. You weren't sure he even knew he was doing it.
Then his hand spread flat against your stomach "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah." The word came out softer than you meant it.
His hand moved slowly, no urgency anywhere in him, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt until his palm found skin. He was reslly warm.
"Still okay?"
"Xavie..." you said his name like a small complaint and felt him smile against your hair before his hand moved up, reaching the edge of your bra.
"Can I?"
Something about the way he asked made your chest go a little soft. "Yes," you said. "You can."
He was careful. Curious. Like he was learning something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. When his hands finally cupped your breast you exhaled slowly, his breathing making the back of your neck feel hot.
"You're soโ" he started, then stopped himself.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just." A pause. "You."
You didn't push him to finish the sentence because you couldn't think about anything else but the fingers currently playing with your pebbled nipple.
His mouth pressed once to the back of your neck. Then again, lower. "Do you wantโ"
"Yes." You didn't wait for him to finish that one either.
His hand found its way back down, giving you time to change your mind, until you felt his fingers learning the shape of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties before slipping beneath it. The sound you made came out before you could stop it. He breathed out against your neck, quiet and unplanned, like you'd caught him off guard too.
He paid attention to every detail, the hitch in your breathing when he found the right rhythm, the way your hand reached back to grip his thigh when he pressed a little more firmly. He adjusted without being told and slowed down when you tensed, kept going when you exhaled. The circles around your clit stayed steady, patient, with just enough pressure to make your thoughts dissolve one by one.
When you moved your hips, just slightly to chase the feeling, he responded, moving with you instead of against you.
You gripped his forearm with both hands "There..." you managed, barely.
"Yeah?right here?" he sounded like he was pretty pleased with himself.
His mouth moved to the back of your neck again and you felt yourself winding tighter and tighter untilโ
"Let go, I've got you, bunny..."
"Xavโbaby..." it came out quiet and wrecked as he held you through it, pressing his lips once to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your jaw.
After a few seconds you turned slightly, just enough to look at him. His eyes were soft. A little undone, maybe. Like he'd gotten something out of it too.
"Hi," you said
"Hi," he said back before pulling you closer, tucking you against him again with his chin resting on top of your head, his thumb doing that thing again against your side.
The movie ended and the credits rolled but neither of you moved to turn it off.
"Tired?" he asked eventually.
"Mm."
"Good tired or bad tired."
"Very good tired."
He made a low almost laugh again. Outside the rain was quieting.
You fell asleep before he did, thinking this was the most comfortable you'd felt in a long time.
Sylusโs voice from behind you makes you tense, looking around to make sure none of your coworkers are around before turning to face him.
โIโm wearing my uniform Sylus, I donโt look cute at all. What are you doing here?โ Heโs leaning against his car casually, as if itโs just another day.
โIs it so wrong for me to check up on you?โ He closes the distance between you two, hands coming up to rest on your waist.
"Sylus..." Your tone carries a warning, but his smirk only widens. His hands move up, brushing the buttons of your shirt. You almost hate the way he overwhelms you, both in stature and sheer aura. He latches onto your desire so easily, pulling it out of the locked box you keep it in.
Before you even realize it, your body is laid down on the cool leather seats, Sylus's heated body pressed against yours. He manages to slip his shirt off in the cramped space, but when you move to unbutton yours, he stops you.
"Allow me." He smirks, only unbuttoning the first three buttons of your shirt before pulling away.
"You don't want to take it off all the way?" Your question makes Sylus hum, undoing your pants and just barely lowering them. You're practically fully clothed, and he's never looked more excited.
"I'm a big fan of your uniform, sweetie." He grins, leaning down to kiss you once more.
"Seriously? It turns you on to be reminded of my job? The job which is, technically, to arrest you."
"It turns me on greatly, kitten. To be reminded that your loyalty, above all else, lies with me. Truly, such a sweet sentiment." He's clearly gloating, but there's no real flaw in his logic.
You couldnโt quite figure out how you got into this position. 18+
One moment you were flooring it down the streets of the N109 Zone in one of Sylusโ many vintage cars. The next, every item on his mahogany desk was strewn across the floor. Your back โ bare and prickling from the chill โ pressed into the smooth surface.
Only your black polished leather heals remained on your body. The red bottoms faced the ceiling, slung over the broad expanse of Sylusโ shoulders and trembling with every devastating blow of his hips.
They sat upon his shoulders as if they belonged there, as if they were always meant to remain right there. Sylus surely seemed to think so, with the iron clad grip he had on your claves. Pressing his body weight further down into your own, listening to the satisfying creak of sturdy wood as he pounds you into its surface.
โS-s-Sylus!โ Heโs fucking you beyond dumb, your jaw so slack that youโd feel some level of embarrassment if you harbored any sense of shame around him. โYou looked too perfect tonight.โ Though, you couldnโt help but believe there was more of a motive behind this animalistic hunger. โToo many eyes were on you.โ
He hits deep, driving that little bit of information home as stars explode through your vision. You barely register the pain of your head knocking against the desk. A garbled cry of his name leaving your lips as your nails dig into his skin, wherever youโre capable of reaching.
Youโre so close to cumming, the wet slapping emitting between your bodies is more than enough to signify it. โDonโt even h-have to try to make me jealous, hmm?โ He shifts, putting a knee up on the desk for better leverage to nearly fold you in half. โJust gotta look as beautiful as you a-always doโฆ someone will lookโฆ their desires are so loudโฆโ
You donโt restrain yourself as a harsh slap lands on your ass, nearly screaming as your entire body throbs with the need for release. Jealousy pushed him to this point and you didnโt even have to do anythingโฆ how cute. โS-Sy mโgonnaโฆโ
The desk is physically rocking with the force of his hips, and you barely have the strength to worry about it collapsing beneath you. All you can focus on is the never ending drag of his cock between your slick walls. The toe curling pleasure you desperately want to last forever, teetering right on the brink of euphoria.
