A weird-ass wanderer attacks the Mc, turns her into a temporary Lemurian, but the thing is, she or Raf never thought that she would begin to show âEbb day symptomsâ
-NERD!ZAYNE TEACHING THE GUYS HOW TO MAKE YOU CUM, SQUIRT AND OTHER TRICKS. Part 4 (Xavier)
Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3here Part 5 here
đMDNIđ
The walk to Xavier's dorm on Wednesday felt nothing like the panicked sprint you'd made a few days ago, but the knots in your stomach felt exactly the same.
Things with Rafayel had beenâa lot. Since that night your phone hadn't stopped, a steady stream of dramatic updates about an exhibition schedule pulling him out of town, and the occasional message that was just a reminder of what his mouth had done to your skin. He'd be gone two full weeks. You'd exhaled when he told you that, and then immediately felt guilty about it, and then felt annoyed at yourself for feeling guilty, and that had been Tuesday afternoon.
You kept checking your phone anyway. Paranoid he'd said something to the others, let something slip in the group chat without thinking, like he sometimes did when he was caught up in his own head. Nothing so far. That was either reassuring or a bad sign and you couldn't tell which.
But today was Wednesday. Wednesday meant math tutoring. Wednesday meant Xavier.
He'd been helping you with your math classes because he never sighed when you asked him to explain something twice. Never made you feel stupid for losing the thread halfway through a formula you'd understood perfectly ten minutes ago. He'd just turn the notebook around and start from the beginning, patient in an unhurried way that was so him. You'd gotten used to his dorm, his desk, the way he organized his notes in colored tabs that he denied caring about.
What you hadn't gotten used to was the five days of silence sitting between you now. Or the fact that the last time you'd seen him, he'd been on his knees with his face between your thighs and his fingers inside of you.
You shook your head hard, like that was going to do anything.
The morning had been a whole exercise in damage control. You'd stood in front of your mirror for a long time, turning sideways, checking necklines, holding up three different tops before settling on a sweater. The marks Rafayel had left weren't subtleâhe'd been thorough about that, almost pointedly soâand the last thing you needed was Xavier noticing something you'd have to explain. Comfortable sweater. Favorite jeans. Just enough makeup to look like you'd rolled out of bed this way, which had taken an embarrassing amount of effort to pull off. You'd looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, this is fine, then left before you could change your mind.
Campus was busy, it was mid afternoon and people were moving between buildings, someone's music was bleeding out of a cracked window on the second floor of the humanities block. You walked with your hands in your pockets and tried to think about literally anything else.
It didn't work. Your brain kept circling back to that night in Zayne's dorm.
You arrived at his building a few minutes early on purpose, not wanting to be standing awkward in the hallway when he showed up. The spare key he'd given you months agoâback when this was all still simple, back when tutoring was just tutoringâwas already in your hand before you reached the door. You let yourself in, dropped your bag on the desk, and stood in the middle of the room for a moment just breathing. It smelled like him in here.
You pulled out your textbook. Pulled out your notebook. Uncapped a pen, stared at the blank page, and wrote the date at the top like that counted as being productive.
He'd be back from lecture any minute. You pressed the pen down harder on the page and stared at the date until the words stopped swimming.
----------
Xavier had been having a terrible day and was not going to pretend otherwise.
The past two days had been running on a loop he couldn't shut off. He'd seen Rafayel walking with you across campus. He knew that look on Rafayel's face. He knew it because he felt it himself every time you were within arm's reach.
Since Zayne's dorm, Xavier had been hiding a hunger that had nothing to do with food. He'd had his mouth on you. Had felt you cum on his tongue and he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.
You hadn't texted back. Not once in five days, not even a heads up about today. He'd checked his phone every 30 minutes and by early afternoon he'd made his peace with the fact that you weren't going to show up and settled into a foul mood about it.
It was jealousy. He wasn't going to dress it up. He'd been crazy about you since day one and the idea of Rafayel getting there first while he sat in his dorm being patient and reasonable was the kind of thing that made a bad day significantly worse.
All he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe eat something. Sit in the quiet of his room and not think about any of it for a few hours.
He unlocked his door, pushed it openâ
And stopped.
You were at his desk. Exactly where you always sat, textbook open, pen in hand, looking up at him the second you heard the door.
"Hey," you said softly, and smiled.
Xavier didn't move.
He stood in there with his keys in hand and just looked at you. The afternoon light from the window. The way you were watching him, trying to read him. The small smile that was starting to waver as you noticed something was off.
He dropped his keys on a small table and stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind him.
"You look tired," you said carefully.
"I am."
"We can reschedule." Standing to give your back to him you started stacking things, moving with a nervous energy he'd learned to recognize over several months of Wednesday afternoons. " You should rest and we can figure out anotherâ"
"I've been texting you for five days"
You went still. Your hand stayed flat on your notebook.
"I know,"
"And you've been what...Busy."
It wasn't a question and you both knew the answer. You looked at him and he watched you try to figure out what version of the truth to offer.
"I just needed some time," you said finally. "To think."
"About what happened?"
"Yes."
Xavier unslung his bag and let it drop to the floor. He crossed the room without rushing, footsteps silent on the rug, and came to stand directly behind you. He felt you register how close he was, the slight change in your breathing, your shoulders pulling in just slightly.
He didn't touch you yet.
"And?" he said, low, right behind your ear. "What did you decide?"
"Xavierâ"
"I've been thinking about it too." His hand found your waist, fingers curling into the soft fabric of your sweater "Every single day."
You made a small sound, your knuckles had gone white around the notebook.
"I thoughtâ" you started and then stopped.
"What?"
"I thought maybe it would be easier if we just... didn't talk about it."
He almost laughed. "How's that working for you?"
"Not great," you admitted, barely a whisper.
His lips found the skin just below your earâbarely, just the suggestion of a kiss, the warmth of his mouth hovering more than landingâand the breath you pulled in was loud enough for him to hear.
"You've been avoiding all of us"
"I haven'tâ"
"You are taking a different way to class now." Another barely there brush of his lips, this time along your jaw. "I've seen you."
Your knees buckled slightly.
"You're not going to say anything?" he asked softly.
"You're not giving me a lot of room to talk."
"You've had five days to talk."
"That'sâ" You let out a shaky breath. "That's not fair."
"You're right." His lips brushed along your jaw again, in no particular rush. "It's not."
Despite everything, something close to a laugh escaped you, breathless and reluctant. Your fingers were still around the notebook, the only thing keeping you grounded.
"You are genuinely terrible at math and you still show up every week. You're not scared of hard things."
You went very still.
"So stop running," he said. Simple.
Before you could find an answer to that, both his hands settled on your hipsâgrip firmâto turn you around and then lifted you onto the desk in one easy motion, papers scattering off the edge to the floor.
Neither of you looked at them.
Your arms went around his shoulders and you held on, fingers twisting into his shirt. He leaned in close and stopped just short of your mouth. His lips brushed yours so lightly it barely counted.
"Do you want me to stop?"
You shook your head.
"Words." His thumb pressed into soft skin under your sweater, "Bunny."
You looked at him and noticed the sleepy ease was completely gone. What replaced it was something dark and very, very hungry.
"Don't stop"
He stepped between your knees.
His mouth came down on yours and his hands gripped your thighs to hold you at the edge of the desk. He kissed you with the full weight of however long he'd been waiting to do exactly this. Months of Wednesday afternoons. Months of watching you chew the end of your pen, pretending he wasn't. His tongue slid into your mouth and you felt all of it at once, his patience and restraint and the end of both.
When he broke away his hands dropped straight to your waistbandâbutton, zipper, no hesitationâhead down, focused entirely on the task. You pulled your sweater over your head. He didn't look up. You got the sweater off and dropped it somewhere and sat there in your bra watching him work the denim down your legs.
The jeans hit the floor and his eyes moved up your body, you watched the shift happen. His focus didn't leave his face, it changed into something else. Something colder. You'd seen that expression exactly once before, at a party freshman year when a guy behind you had gotten too comfortable, and Xavier had gone very still across the room. He hadn't even needed to move. The guy saw him and took two steps back on instinct.
He was looking at your chest.
The bruises. Rafayel's bruises. Clear in the afternoon light. The silence in the room was excruciating.
"Was thisâ" He stopped and then started again, quieter. One thumb came up and traced the edge of the darkest mark with a touch so light it made your throat tighten, while his other hand found your hip and held it in a grip that was the opposite of light. "Rafayel."
He already knew the answer and was just giving you the chance to say it.
You nodded. Your voice wasn't available.
The sound he made was low. Short. A sound that meant something had cracked open and he was choosing not to let out all the way. He stood there for a second with his thumb still resting against the bruise and then he got his hands under the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the desk.
He carried you to his bed and set you down against the sheets, the light from the window was not on your sideâit hit every mark with even more clarity, nothing softened, nothing hidden. Xavier stood over you and looked at them for long enough that you started to feel every single one.
"He paints like he does everything else," he said as he climbed over you, hands trailing down your sides. "Loud and fast. Like the point is for everyone to know he was there." His fingers traced the edge of each bruise, one after the other, "He wasn't thinking about you. He was thinking about what he wanted to leave behind."
"Xavâ"
"I'm not angry at you." His eyes came up to yours briefly, clear about that. "I'm not."
He reached behind you and unhooked your bra with one hand, pulling it off and dropping it over the side of the bed. The breath he drew in through his nose when he saw more bruises all over your soft breasts was slow and controlled.
"He's known you two years," Xavier said, almost to himself, hands cupping you, thumbs moving in slow circles across your skin. "Two years and he still went at you like he was on a timer." His eyes flicked up. "Were you even ready?"
The question caught you completely off guard.
"Iâyes."
"Did he ask?"
"He did"
His hands moved back to your waist, then the waistband of your pantiesâslow the whole way down, no sudden movements, making a point about the difference between his way and the alternative.
He pulled them off and sat back on his heels to look at you for a moment.
"I've known you for two years too," his hand ran up the inside of your calf, unhurried, no destination. "I know when you're stuck before you say anything. I know which problems make you want to give up and which ones just need more time." His palm reached your knee and stopped. "He doesn't know any of that. He doesn't know you."
His eyes came up to yours and held there, you knew he wasn't just talking about math problems anymore.
"I do," he said. Not a boast. Just a fact he'd been sitting on for a while.
His hand moved higher, and your breath caught, the afternoon light kept falling across both of you while the room got really warm, really fast.
His hand pressed flat against your pussy and you felt it everywhere, a warm steady pressure right where you'd been aching since he'd lifted you onto the desk. He held it there and then his body slid lower on the mattress and his mouth found the inside of your thigh.
"You're soaked" he murmured against your skin, and you could feel him almost smiling when he said it.
"Xavieâ"
"I heard you." He pressed his lips to the other thigh, higher this time, dragging slow. " And no matter what you say, I'm not rushing."
Your hips lifted off the bed and his hands came down on them immediately, pinning you back to the mattress without looking up.
"I need you toâ"
"I know what you need." His mouth moved higher. Still not close enough. "That's exactly why I'm taking my time."
You made a sound that was mostly frustration and he had the audacity to hum against your inner thigh like he was perfectly comfortable staying there all afternoon.
"Please..."
He looked up from between your thighs, chin resting against your skin, watching your face with that particular focus that had been driving you insane for months. "Tell me what you want."
"You know what I want."
"I want to hear you say it."
Your hands twisted into the sheets. "My pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy."
His next kiss landed directly beside where you needed him, deliberately off center, and you cursed loud enough that it surprised both of you.
"Say it again," he said, lips hovering close enough now that you could feel his warm breath.
"Xavier, I swear to godâ"
"Again."
"I want you to eat my pussy." The words came out steadier than you expected.
That was what he'd been waiting for. Not the polite version of you that sat across from him every Wednesday with a highlighter and a textbook. He wanted the other one. The one underneath that. The one that had come apart in Zayne's dorm and hadn't fully put herself back together since.
His mouth found your clit.
Your hands flew to his hair before a moan finished leaving your throat, fingers twisting in, and your thighs tried to close around his head on reflexâtoo much, too directâbut his hands had your legs pinned wide.
"Don't," he said against you.
"I can'tâit's tooâ"
"You can." He pressed a single open mouthed kiss to your entrance "Stay open for me."
Then his tongue moved again. Long, slow strokes from your entrance all the way up to your clit, learning you, tasting how long you'd been waiting for this to happen again. You stopped trying to be quiet. Stopped trying to be anything in particular. Your hips rocked against his mouth and your fingers pulled at his hair. He swallowed every bit of you and kept going.
Your hips rolled harder, chasing pressure, and Zayne's voice surfaced somewhere in the back of Xavier's head with terrible timing.
"Her body will tell you when she's ready to take control. Give it to her when she does. There needs to be trust, or she'll feel uncomfortable."
Xavier pulled his mouth off you.
The noise you made was indignant. "Don't you â"
"Come here." He was moving, shifting his body flat against the mattress, hands at your waist pulling you up with him. "Up."
"Fuck, I was literally about toâ"
"I know." He looked up at you from where he was lying, mouth still wet "Come up here."
You stared at him. He waited. His hands were steady on your hips.
"You want me toâ"
"Sit on my face." He said it the same way he explained math. Clear. Direct. No room for misunderstanding. "Put your weight down and let me finish what I started."
His words made your face go hot all over again. You shifted forward anyway, bringing your knees to either side of his head, hovering just above him.
"You're not sitting down," he observed.
"I'm aware."
"I'm not going to break."
"I know that."
"Thenâ"
"I'm justâ" You exhaled. "Give me a second."
He gave you time. His hands stayed loose on your hips, not pulling, just present. Waiting. His eyes were on your face the whole time, just watching you work through whatever was keeping you hovering five inches above him.
"What if I'm tooâ"
"You're not."
"You don't know what I was going to say."
"You were going to say too heavy, or too much, or something like that." His thumbs moved against your hip bones. "You're not. I promise you're not."
Something in your chest went a little loose at that.
You let your weight down.
His hands pulled your hips flush against his face the second you did, tongue finding your clit immediately and the sound that came out of you echoed off every wall in the room. Your hands grabbed his shoulders and then his forearms, whatever you could reach, your whole body trembling with the effort of staying upright.
He was thorough, paying attention to every small reaction. Every time your breath snagged on a particular stroke he came back to it. Every time your thighs tensed he slowed down and built it back up from the beginning. Your fingers ended in his hair, pulling harder than you meant to, and he made a rough sound against you that meant he didn't mind.
"Xavieâ" His name came out wrecked "Fuck, I'm gonnaâplease, Iâ"
His mouth lifted.
"Nononononono, I will fucking kiâ"
"Ask me." his hands were holding you just above his lips with an iron grip. "Properly."
"I'm going to kill you."
"Ask me first."
You looked down at himâhair completely destroyed, mouth slick, looking up at you with those eyes and something short circuited in your brain.
"Please make me cum," you begged. "Pleaseâ"
"Dirtier."
Your face went crimson. His expression didn't change.
"Please," you said, the embarrassment burning through your whole body and dissolving into something else, "make my needy pussy cum on your mouth."
He groaned, the sound vibrating against the inside of your thigh as he pulled you down hard and put his mouth back on you, making every previous thing feel like a warm up.
He used his thumb and middle finger to spread your pussy open, forefinger lifting the little hood over your clit so there was nothing between the bundle of nerves and his tongue. He licked into you in heavy, soaking strokes, relentless and consuming, like he'd been waiting specifically for those words and was paying back every second of the wait.
You broke. Completely and loudly and without a single shred of composure.
Your hands twisted so hard into his hair you felt him grunt against you, thighs shaking around his head, his name and sounds that weren't words spilling out of you into the quiet of his dorm room while the light from the window fell across both of you steady and indifferent.
He didn't stop. Even after. Even when you were too sensitive to bear it and your hands were pushing weakly at his head instead of pulling, he kept his tongue moving through every aftershock, slow now, drawing out every last shiver, like stopping would mean missing something he wasn't willing to miss.
"Please stop, Xavieâ"
"But you just saidâ" he started.
"Don't."
"âvery clearly, very specificallyâ"
"Xavier."
"âthat you wantedâ"
"Don't say it"
"âyou are being," he paused and smiled "remarkably shy. We've done this twice"
"I hate you."
"No you don't." His hands were still on your hips. "Sit down again. I'm not done"
The idea that Tamino can smell your arousal, and it makes him aroused too, is hot, sorry. Or his noticing that your ovulating and how good /fertile (đ)you smell drives him crazy.Breeding kinkkkk
â„ rafayel pops a boner every time he paints you. just picturing you in his head and tracing your shape on the canvas gets the blood rushing straight to his cock.
MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!
Summary: Rafayel wakes up his darling
àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż(Ë” âąÌ Ꭰ- Ë” ) â§
Tags/TW: smut, PIV sex, edging, overstimulation, squirting, somnophilia. Fem!Reader. Rafayel being a meanie. Rafayel whimpers. Fem!Reader is also a freak.
A/N: Good morning (˶ᔠᔠá”˶)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
âGood morning~âÂ
His deep and gravely morning cooed in your ear.Â
You couldnât respond, your voice cracking from sleep and from the overwhelming pleasure melting your still foggy brain.Â
You grabbed at Rafayel's arms wrapped around your waist, pitching a long whimper when he slowly pushed back in, the deeep and loong stretch making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Your back arched, and you pushed back into him, burying your nails into his arms.Â
Every nerve in you was alight, and you were hypersensitive to every sensation. Especially his thick cock grinding hard into your sweet spots, burying so deep inside you that you couldnât breathe.Â
âArenât you going to say it back, darling?â Rafayel kissed your ear. âHm?âÂ
He didnât seem the slightest bit bothered by your desperate clawing at his arms or squirming from his heavy cock splitting you open again.Â
You gasped for breath, trying to rack your brain quickly to respond and tell him off for waking you up. âGoo-ahh!â A sudden, harsh thrust forced you to break in a loud whine.Â
âGod, I love the sound of your voice,â Rafayel whimpered in your ear, picking up his pace. Each thrust of his hip forced a breathless moan from you. His arms tightened around your body, forcing you to stay still and take his morning treatment. âGod, I love it so much. I love hearing your voice every morning.âÂ
You began choking on your moans, squirming harder against him and the bed, trying to get away from the ramping pleasure and catch your breath.Â
âPlease! Please, gonna come!â you whimpered.Â
âYeah? You are?â He rolled you onto your front, using his body to pin you tight to the sheets.
You screamed into the pillow and clawed at the sheets when your pleasure spiked hard. Your head was spinning even more wildly.
Rafayel kissed the back of your neck and sighed softly, âYou get to come when you tell me âgood morningâ.âÂ
You sobbed, sinking your teeth into the pillow as Rafayel fucked you harder, knocking the breath out of your lungs each time the thick head of his cock punched your sweet spot.Â
The bed was squeaking loudly, barely muffling your sounds, pitching higher as your head got more fuzzy, spinning wildly as your orgasm crested.Â
Just as you were about to come, he stopped, pulling back. You clenched the pillow in frustration and glared at him over your shoulder.Â
âSay it, cutie,â Rafayel fluttered his lashes at you sweetly. âSay it, and Iâll let you come. Hm?â He slowly rolled his hips and buried his cock back in you.Â
Your frustration spiked again, and you tried to glare at him, but it was moot when your eyes rolled back into your skull again from the sensation of the rotund head of his cock pushed into your sweet spot.Â
âHow âbout you play along and tell me âgood morningâ, princess?âÂ
A high-pitched whine involuntarily left your throat at the pet name. You lifted your hips slightly, arching your back to feel him slide in deeper. Your thighs trembled more with each slow drag, taunting you to a maddening high.Â
Rafayel's thick cock was splitting you open so deliciously early in the morning as the hard veins of his cock were etching their shape into your walls.
âPlease,â you whined, your voice muffled in the fluffy pillows. âPlease, I wanna come! I wanna come!âÂ
âWhat do you say, my love?âÂ
âGuhâ!â Your voice broke. âGood morning, honey! Good morâ!âÂ
You didnât get to finish when Rafayel slammed all the way into you, burying all the way to the hilt. You screamed into the pillow, your back snapping into a higher arch to accommodate his girth.Â
You were reduced to nothing but a whimpering and whining mess, squirming on the bed from the overwhelming pleasure wracking through your body.Â
You began sobbing loudly into his pillows, each sharp thrust of his hips making your cries pitch higher and higher until you bit onto his pillows to muffle your screams. But it wasnât quite enough to hide all of your cries of ecstasy.Â
Rafayel didnât let up, though. He kept nailing your sweet spot with deathly accuracy, hellbent on his personal mission to make you come so hard you couldnât think anymore.
âI miss you,â Rafayel moaned and kissed your shoulder, still ruthlessly rutting into you. His voice cracked in tiny whimpers as he rut hard into you. âI miss you so much. Missed you and this pretty pussy so much. Itâs been too damn long, baby.â
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you came. You hugged the pillows tight as you screamed his name, your nails sinking deep into the cloth.Â
A wild, fluttering sensation rolled through your stomach as clear liquid squirted all over your thighs, soaking into the bedsheets. He didnât stop.Â
Rafayel wrapped his arm around your front and played with your clit, whimpering loudly into your ear when your pussy snapped tighter around his cock. âFuck, oh fuck, thatâs it! Wanâ you to come on my cock again. Again!âÂ
Your cries pitched louder as electric pleasure bolted through your veins. Tears streamed down your face, soaking into the pillows as you came again, your head spinning wildly as your orgasm took over.Â
You slumped on the bed, pinned under his weight. A broken moan punctuated each hard thrust, sending your body rocking back and forth wildly.
âNot done,â Rafayel kissed your cheek, turning your head and kissing your mouth sloppily, not caring that you couldnât quite kiss him back, only whining into his mouth.Â
âNot done with you yet,â Rafayel groaned, slowly rolling his hips into you and dragging each inch of his still-hard cock against your overstimulated walls. âWanna make you come again. Wanna make you feel so good.âÂ
You tried to kiss him back, bringing your hand up and holding the back of his head. The messy tangle of tongue and lips got Rafayel riled up just enough to start rutting into you hard again. Your fingers twisted tightly in his hair, holding onto him tight as he picked up the pace again.Â
He moaned into your mouth when you pulled on his hair. He moved his arm down to your front and hoisted you up. He positioned you so your chest was pressed against the wall.Â
Your hands scrambled for purchase on the headboard and the wall. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back with one hand while the other gripped your hip tightly.Â
âGonna come on my cock. Youâre gonna come on my cock one more time.âÂ
Rafayel couldnât see the smirk that grew on your face, too focused on fucking you senseless.Â
You knew damn well it wasnât going to be âone more timeâ. You just gave in to the pleasure and moaned sonorously as your lover continued to fuck you.Â
Attempt no. 2 after studying his face a bit more. Main reason why I donât make lads art that much is because the characters are so pretty, I have a hard time getting it right đđđœ
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