day dreaming, do not disturb

Xing | 21+ | They/Them | Minors DNI | Twitter | archive of my dreams, whatever and wherever they lead

[qierxing]

Master List (06/03/2024)

About Me: Call me Xing! I'm a being who enjoys tea, cats, and chaos, all in that order. Always drowning in work and daydreaming about the next project I can do.

This is an 18+ blog that regularly posts/queues/reblogs problematic/dark content. Don’t be weird please. I block blogs that don’t list their age/age range/or are run by minors. I tag non-yandere content with the acronyms of the fandom. 

Commissions: Open

Writing

Drabbles

Comfortable

Prognosis

Forget Me Not

Camouflage

Care for Me

One-shots/Series

Thread of Fate Series | Freedom (1, 2, 3) - Ballad (1)

Mediation - Melodrama - Resuscitation

Engraved

Obligations

Airtight

War Cry (COMM)

Enlightenment (COMM)

Femme Fatale (COMM)

Artworks

Saeko's College AU - Zhongli & Ninguang

Ddarkerdream's Baal rebel reader concept

Blzzrdstryr's Alone Together

Sandrone Portrait

Collective sketches(NSFW) - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Writing

Drabbles

Spellbound

Vindication

Follower's Event - 1

One-shots/Series

A Murder Most Foul

Decension

Artworks

Collective sketches(NSFW) - 1 - 2

Oneshots/Series

Playing God - 1 -~

Writing

Drabbles

Benevolence

Misc Headcanons - 1 - 2 - 3

Vil Arranged Marriage

Double Trouble

Follower's Event - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

Corpse Bride AU Trey

SGAE AU Prince Trey | 2

One-shots/Series

Yandere Isekai AU - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Indirection

Reignition - Hazed

Halloween Series - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Bury Me Gently - 1 - 2

For You(r Entertainment) - 0

All in a Golden Afternoon - Painting the Roses Red (COMM)

Fathoms Below (COMM)

Imperial AU Poly Heartslabyul

Artworks

Riddle Overblot

Ghost Marriage Rook

Merakiui's Love me Not

Shiny Jr's Jessica Rabbit Vil

Collective Sketches (NSFW) - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

One-shots/Series

Legends

[protoscars]

:: Dance in the Dark :: Part 1 of 2

Summary: You're a dancer in the N109 Zone, he's Akso's Chief Cardiac Surgeon - and he's determined to rescue you, even if you never wanted saving in the first place. Tags: ZaynexNonMC!Reader, Yandere!Zayne, Note: This is my first time writing for a nonmc fic. This is my first time writing a Yandere fic! This was supposed to be a oneshot - buuuuut....it's looking like it's at least 2 parts. I hope you all enjoy! TW: Stalking, Kidnapping, the usual Yandere stuff....

You knew she wasn't from the N109 Zone the first time you laid eyes on her. She was too bright, too shiny. The fog of the N109 Zone stuck to everything and everyone who stayed too long. And this girl? She practically fucking glowed compared to the average denizen of the zone. You didn't say anything of course. Keeping your head down was part of how you'd stayed alive this long.

You weren't sure if you'd ever been that bright. Maybe somewhere in the past, many years ago. Long before the gloam of this place had time to stain your skin.

You'd seen her in the club a few times now. She always appeared on the arm of the leader of Onychinus. As if she didn't attract enough attention as it was. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to relish it. The way his red eyes flashed as he appraised the room, noting just how many people admired her. At the same time, that gaze was clearly a warning, a claim. Mine.

Maybe that was why you'd noticed the minute she crossed the threshold that evening. He wasn't there. Instead she had an equally shiny man at her side. Although, at least he made some attempt to blend in. His clothing was dark, his gaze downcast. Nonetheless, something about his posture, his bearing in the room, was off. He didn't move with shame or fear. Instead, he walked with calm authority. Slipping through the crowd with a confidence that didn't belong.

You couldn't look away.

He slid his coat off, and loosened his tie. One arm guiding the laughing shiny girl to a table. Protective, authoritative, almost fatherly. You had to fight not to stare any longer.

The girl, she laughed, she smiled, she was more animated than you'd ever seen her. She was, nervous? Yes, anxiety radiated off of her. You became more certain the longer you watched.

You'd watched many a soap opera play out from your stage. Spinning around in your sequins and nothing more, you had the perfect vantage point. They were either watching you, or engrossed in their own drama. No one noticed that while you put on a show, they were putting on a show for you.

The music continued to pulse softly around you. Muscle memory keeping your hips rotating in time to the beat. You couldn't help but notice that this new character wasn't watching the stage. He only looked at her. If his gaze slipped your way, he was looking determinedly past you, before returning his attention to the table or the girl.

You felt the heat of envy somewhere in the pit of your stomach. The way he gazed at her. His eyes were hazel-green, even at this distance. You couldn't help but imagine what it felt like to have them look at you.

Eventually her usual companion, the silver haired man, had appeared. The three of them had settled with drinks. He didn't partake from his. You had watched their introductions from the wings of the stage in-between dances. Her nerves had slowly dissipated, but the two men had stared at one another with something that you couldn't name.

Your attention was stolen by a commotion by the bar. The tall silver haired Onychinus boss had appeared. He'd pinned a shadowy figure to the wall. No one else in the club reacted. Just another Friday night in the N109 Zone.

It was your turn again. You stepped back onstage. You kept dancing.

If someone had asked you what happened next, you weren't sure you could give them an accurate answer.

Someone had thrown something. The sound of breaking glass a music all its own. Then red smoke had bloomed thick and angry across the room. Voices had raised, the sound of anger and fear a familiar soundtrack.

Until the air seemed to shiver. A wanderer coalescing near the front of the room. A sickening shift in the air and light filling the now blurry room. Someone screamed.

And then you'd felt it. A searing pain that tore from your shoulder and across your chest, accompanied by a strange warmth. A red more vibrant than you'd imagined it would be that poured over your breast. Stumbling backwards, you'd lost your balance. Your feet sliding out from under you, the floor rising to meet you with alarming speed.

Until your head cracked against the floor. Some distant part of you was surprised by how loud it was. The crack of your skull against the dance floor.

And then he was there. His eyes as beautiful as you had imagined as the world began to swim.

"Stay with me." His voice was calm, a contrast against the panic of the room.

"Didn't plan on going anywhere." You hear your own voice, although it feels out of sync with your lips. He smiles wryly in response to your sardonic response, one hand cradling your head, the other gingerly lowering the sparkling strap on your shoulder, now stained with blood.

"I'm a doctor -" You snort, and cut him off.

"If I had a dollar for every time I'd heard that one." You feel your hand meet his, and surprised to feel just how sticky and wet your own blood is. You hear gunfire, but he doesn't flinch.

He gently moves your hand, concern flickering across his face. Despite the pain, the chaos, you can't help but find yourself fixated on the man above you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The pain is what pulls you back to reality. You fight it while you can, knowing that it's preferable to stay in the haze of darkness. But there is only so much you can do as the tether of your consciousness inevitably pulls you back to earth.

You're in a room, far too white. Far too bright. You squint and try to sit up, only to be rewarded by the pain magnifying itself by several magnitudes. A whimper escapes your lips. A bandage is wound around your right shoulder and across your chest. Someone has dressed you in soft linen hospital pants and a loose scrub top.

"You're awake." The voice is familiar, and it makes your heart leap. It's him.

He's as clean and white as the room. Wearing a pressed shirt tailored to his well postured frame, and a doctor's coat that hangs squarely from his shoulders as if it were made only for him. His dark hair and features punctuate his pale face, contrasting starkly in a way that takes your breath away.

But it's his eyes that you can't look away from. Hazel green with a burning intensity that freezes you on the spot for just a moment.

"You weren't lying, Doctor." You manage with a breathless laugh.

He doesn't laugh, but you see a hint of a smile at his lips. He crosses the room in two purposeful strides, his eyes fixed on the monitor above your bed.

"Doctor Zayne." He replies. "You should lay back down." His tone is matter of fact, it brooks no argument. You gingerly acquiesce. "You're in Akso hospital, you -"

"What?" You shoot back up without thinking, and the pain screams back into your body.

"-you were injured by a wanderer attack." He continues as if you haven't interrupted him. "And sustained a laceration to your right clavicle and arm requiring surgical repair, and a minor concussion with loss of consciousness."

You fall back against the pillows, cursing every star you know to name. "I have to go back."

He pauses, his routine interrupted. "Back where? I can assure you the club sustained enough damage that it won't be open for-"

You groan, placing your hands over your face. "No, no, no. Back to the N109 Zone. I can't be here."

"I can assure you, that the hospital is exactly where you belong." He replies curtly, a tone of annoyance edging at his voice.

You sigh and grit your teeth, and then remove your head from your hands.

"Thank you, so much. Truly, I can't thank you enough." You begin, while carefully sitting the rest of the way up and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. "But I don't belong here." You carefully begn to remove the wires attached to your chest.

"The hospital is exactly where you belong." He's standing in front of you now. A wall of man blocking your path as you shakily stand. You shake your head in wordless disagreement, ignoring how the room swims when you do.

You step past him and he doesn't say another word as you leave, but you feel his eyes on you with every step you take.

Crossing the thresh hold you quicken your pace, and you nearly slam straight into her. She's beautiful up close. Her elfin features and lithe figure seem almost otherworldly, you think.

"It's you!" She exclaims, as if you're old friends. "From the club! I'm so glad you're ok! Dr. Zayne said..." her words fade into a buzz of chatter as you see her gaze slip past you and over your shoulder. You glance behind you and see him standing in the doorway to the room you just exited. He's looking at her like the rest of the world doesn't exist. He's looking at her in a way that makes your chest ache in a way that isn't related to your injury, but much, much, worse.

You almost feel like you're intruding on something. You duck your head and step to the side. "I really have to go..."

You leave without looking back.

------------------------------------------------

A week later your stitches have mostly dissolved, and the clanging headache you've been fighting has begun to fade. The club re-opens tonight. The N109 Zone is no stranger to rebuilding, and they have it down to a science rather than an art. You've carefully chosen a high necked top to hide the healing gash, and you've prepared yourself to step on stage once more.

No one speaks of the attack. It's not worth mentioning in a place like this. Instead the music plays and you follow its lead, the familiar cadence of lights and bass a welcome relief.

You're lost somewhere in the song when you see him. He's seated at a table by himself and his white dress shirt nearly glows in the darkened room. His sleeves are rolled up past the elbow, his tie loose but still around his neck, and he rests his chin on top of folded, thoughtful hands, but his eyes are fixed only on you.

For a split second, you freeze, before finding the beat again. You can't tell from this distance, but you'd swear that he notices and almost smiles.

The night passes from there in a way that you can only describe as agonizingly slow.

He remains seated the entire night, watching you dance. Slowly, the club empties. As the morning draws closer the last few stragglers finish their dels and drinks and slink towards the exits. And as you wind down and the music fades, he stands, and approaches the stage.

You step to the edge of the worn wooden platform and lower yourself carefully down, sitting with your legs dangling over the edge.

"You came back." You state it as a fact, but the surprise is evident in your voice.

"I came back." He answers with a succinct nod. "You didn't come to your follow up."

You laugh, and it's short and shocked. "I didn't know I had one."

"You're lucky." He replies, crossing his arms across his chest. "I don't know many doctors who make house calls."

You slide off the stage so that you are standing before him, although even in your heels you have to look up at him.

"Lucky?" You raise one eyebrow in faux disbelief. Carefully removing one arm from your top, you reveal the healing wound beneath. You see his gaze drop to your revealed breast, and a light pink flushes his ears.

"Usually I charge for this." You grin, and watch the flush creep further up his neck. "And we're sure you're a doctor?" You tease, although you aren't feeling half as bold as you're acting.

He makes a disapproving noise in response as his graceful fingers begin to gently explore the forming scar. You have to think about your breathing in order not to hold your breath.

"Are you experiencing any pain?" His brow has furrowed ever so slightly, and he's pressing gently at the base of the scar. You shake your head and resist the temptation to reach out and touch him in turn.

"It itches a bit, but it doesn't hurt." You're entranced by the way his eyes look through his long dark lashes, and your voice comes out softer and breathier than you mean for it.

Slowly he pulls away and looks up. The electricity still crackling silently in the air between you. "And your head?"

You grin, "Oh, don't worry. I'm just as dumb as I was before." He doesn't look impressed, but instead sighs softly.

"That's not what I meant."

You slide your arm back into your top and pull it back down. "So, what do I owe you for this house call, doctor?"

He waves your question off with a dismissive hand. "I'm simply caring for my patient."

"It's a dangerous thing to owe people favors in the N109 Zone." You purse your lips. "I know you aren't from around here, but -"

"But-" he interrupts you, "-You don't want to be in my debt?"

You nod, wordlessly. The club is empty now, and the dim lights illuminate dingy velvet and well worn carpets that have long ago lost their luster in the light of day.

"Then don't be." He says, matter of factly. "Just...don't waste my work." His eyes have gone cold and distant, as if he's turned a switch off somewhere inside, and he turns to leave. You feel your stomach sink unexpectedly, and you fight a sudden instinct to find an excuse for him to stay.

Before you can find words, he's gone. You shake your head, as if you can free yourself from the recurring image of him gently, tenderly, reaching for you. And you remind yourself exactly where you are.

He belongs with someone like the shiny girl from before. Someone who still radiates light.

------------------------------------------------

The wound faded to a pink and pale scar, neat but raised. And the nights faded into one another again, neon lights the comforting companions to the N109 Zone's familiar darkness.

You still saw her sometimes, laughing, an oddity in the N109 zone. Always accompanied by her red eyed and powerful companion. They'd clearly grown closer, if even possible. They moved in sync, and his arm was usually wrapped tightly around her waist or shoulders.

Every time you saw them, your heart fluttered. Not because of his unsettling stare, not because of her strange light, but because there was always a chance, perhaps even a hope, that Zayne might be there too. Even his name felt dangerous - like thinking it, let alone saying it out loud, was too great a risk to take. So you simply, didn't.

You kept to yourself the growing fear that sat deep in your chest. The feeling that something just wasn't quite right. You'd been through a traumatic event, you told yourself. Of course you wouldn't feel great. But glances over your shoulder on the way home told a different story, unease becoming a constant companion.

And there was the fact that work wasn't the same either. Your usual customers, your 'regulars' as it were, were either missing, or not themselves. It wasn't unusual in the N109 zone for people to disappear, or even to reappear after disappearing for weeks. But this was different. Three of them just never returned to the club after the night Zayne came to check on you. And the others no longer requested dances in private rooms. If you approached them on the floor, they would shy away, and if you didn't know better - you would swear you saw them looking over their shoulders in fear. Some of them you were glad to see go, lecherous and handsy types that they were. But you couldn't pretend it wasn't affecting you. You had certainly begun to feel it when you counted your payout at the end of the night.

However, in the place of their eyes, you felt new ones watching you. You tried to explain them away. Telling yourself the years of hypervigilance were coming to claim their toll. That it was simply the decades of looking over your back morphing into something greater.

And yet - there was a nagging feeling of being watched that you couldn't quite shake.

------------------------------------------------

By the time your arm had fully healed the air had turned cold. The last strains of Autumn's chorus still echoed in the N109 Zone, but the biting wind of early winter was determined to drown them out. You pulled your coat closer around you as you stepped out the back door of the club, letting the cool air of the night hit your face as you tipped your head back. A sigh escaped your lips, and you watched your breath appear in the air, dissipating upwards like smoke.

The walk home wasn't short, but it was at least a familiar path. Although since this new feeling of being watched had appeared, it had felt longer the colder the nights grew. You set out, heels from the club dangling loosely in one hand. You mused to yourself that perhaps in the N109 Zone one was always being watched, and that maybe, you had simply become aware of the eyes you couldn't see.

A street lamp flickered and you jumped. You chided yourself for your foolishness - and for showing weakness, and doubled your pace. The air grew colder, and you wondered if the howl of the wind was growing louder, or if it was your imagination. Rounding the final corner before your block, you almost walked straight into a darkly clad figure as they emerged from an alley.

"Sorry I -" The words froze on your lips as you looked up into a familiar face. "Dr. Zayne?" Your surprise registers in your voice coming out almost a squeak. In the flickering light of the now distant street lamps he looks different. The shadows on his face deeper, his eyes darker.

"I'm sorry." His voice is darker too, softer in a strange way, but tinged with something unfamiliar. "I didn't want to have to do this, but I can't keep you safe here any longer."

You blink in confusion, unsure of what he's saying, or what he means. And then you're in his arms, and there's a sharp prick at your neck, and the world spins around you. His scent is sharp and clean, and even in the chill of the evening his hands are cold on your skin, but his face, his face is soft, his eyes are gentle, and you wonder why he looks so sad, as the world fades away.

[fromeirlys]

Heat of Summer - 5/28

Pairings: Hybrid!LADS x reader; deer hybrid!zayne, wolf/dog hybrid!caleb, dragon hyrbid!sylus, bunny hyrbid!xavier, merman!rafayel

Desc: One summer day, his instincts skyrocket over a thousand, and all he can think about is keeping you for himself.

Warnings: smut, age gap (reader’s 24-26), friends/enemies to ??? , dubcon bordering noncon (kinda nervous), yandere traits and tendencies, cowgirl, p in v, oral, mating press, bulldog doggystyle, bondage, monsterfucking (rafayel), hypnosis (rafayel), breeding kink, I suck at buildup, proceed with caution ⚠️

A/n: I coulda made raf a cat, but I’m liking LSG more AGHH.

A/n 2: I wrote this Thursday, but I’m releasing it today cuz it’s my birthday, so just a lil self-indulgent :-)

W/c: yes

Zayne

Having two evols was strange. On one hand, he could cool himself with the ice during the piping hot days, but on the other, he struggled getting into his clothes with the two sticks on his head.

Yes, his antlers were a daily issue, sometimes causing a strain in his neck when going to bed or accidentally bumping into things.

He was a temporary medic for a mission with the Hunters Association when he inhaled with an aroma— one that alters your anatomy and biology.

Luckily, it was just antlers, a small tail that could be hidden beneath his waistband, and deer instincts. Thankfully, he didn’t have hooves, or else work would be impossible, but man, was being around you a pain. He didn’t think the feelings he quietly hid away would put him out there anytime you were near, but they did. Still, he did his best to keep his composure, which meant keeping some distance from you.

Zayne was going through some paperwork when he heard a knock at the front door. He got up and scratched the base of his right antler as he walked out his office and headed for the door. He opened it, and saw you standing there, stopping himself from widening his eyes like he was in front of headlights.

“Hey, Zayne! I was nearby, and stopped at a cafe for some snacks. They had these new flavors of maracons and I was reminded of you, so I got you some!” You smile.

He clears his throat, feeling his body warming up, and nods slightly. “Thank you.”

He steps aside, and you’re a bit surprised, but you walk in anyway. He had been avoiding you for the last week, and you weren’t sure why, but some of his colleagues had mentioned he was also avoiding them, so you knew it wasn’t in your head. Everyone knew he got hit with the evol, but nobody suspected his behavior was because of that.

You stand off to the side and look straight at his kitchen as he closes the door. “You can just set them on the counter. I was looking at some paperwork from the hospital.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway. I’m hanging out with one of my coworkers in a couple minutes, but I just wanted to drop these off and check in on you.” You lightly shrug.

“Is it Tara?”

“Andrew.” you took your phone out to text him.

You were going to hang out with another man instead of him?

He ignores the jealousy fueling up, and nods. “Well I’m doing alright, thanks for asking.”

You softly step toward the counter, and set the bag of treats down. “Alright, well I’ll get going then.”

You nod, and turn back to the door when he calls out to you.

“Hey–” Your hand lifts and goes to grab the knob but stops.

“I know I’ve been… off… I’m not doing it because I want to, but because I need to.” You turn to him, and your gaze softens.

You look up at his head, the two bones sticking out in different directions then back at his face. “Does it… have to do with that?”

He hums, and gives a light nod. “Let’s just say my senses have heightened. I’m still me, but…”

You watch his eyes shift away, and his face slowly reddens. “Aw, Zayne! You’re blushing!”

He blinks and looks in the direction of his office. Anywhere, but you.

You step toward his couch, and sit down next to the arm rest. “Tell me what’s on your mind, doc.”

“I don’t want to waste your time. Your coworker will think you ditched him.” He fidgets with his fingers.

“You can never waste my time, Z. Come talk to me,” you whisper, and it makes his heart do backflips.

His eyes move down to the ground then back at you. He doesn’t want to ruin this— ruin the platonic connection between you two, but his urges were becoming hard to control, and all he could think about was mating with you.

Making you take his seed. Making you his.

He walks over to the couch and sits on the opposite side, far from you.

“Why are you all the way over there?” You blink.

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. But he carefully scoots closer to you, and you watch him get increasingly awkward.

“Zayne?” His ears perk up, and his heart beats faster.

His eyes slowly move to their corners and look at you, and the gesture gives off an uncanny feeling.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well,” he whispers, moving closer to you.

You look at him surprised, and don’t move as he gets closer.

Fuck it.

“I’ve… been thinking… about you. A lot, lately…” he whispers, keeping his eyes on the table.

You feel your chest warm up, and look down shyly. “Why?”

He lets out a soft sigh, and glances at you. “You mean a lot to me, you know? I’m not used to feeling these things… when I was feeling these emotions the first time, I forced them down, locked them away. But now that I have these… urges…” he moves closer, and your eyes widen a fraction.

“If I asked… would you let me touch you?” He stares deep into your soul, and your face warms.

“In that way…?” your eyes widen and you quickly catch sight of his hand lifting and pressing on your shoulder.

“I know it seems sudden but, believe me when I say that, I’ve had these feelings long before I got hit with this evol… it just made then come to light and I’ve been struggling to keep my distance…”

The Zayne you knew was no longer present, but a man with a burning desire; a man who was tired of being a gentleman.

“Zayne…” you whisper, and the little rope of restraint holding him back, just snaps.

~

The couch squeaks quietly from the rigorous movement on it. Clothes scatter around the coffee table, and on it, with their owners interlocked nearby. You bite your lip and grip the pillow as Zayne thrusts into you at a hurried pace.

“So warm… you’re perfect, my love,” he whispers against your back.

Your pussy squelches as his dick slides in and out, the juices building up and dripping at the gesture. Your sweet moans fill his minimalistic living room, uncharacteristic to the area. His hands slide down from your ass to your waist, and he arches your back more, needing to get deeper.

You yelp out and bite down on the couch’s armrest, whining and mewling as his length strangely thickens and elongates.

“Z-Zayne! Oh god, y-you’re so deep!!” Your cry muffles with the fabric in between your teeth.

His pace becomes sloppy, and before you know it, he harshly pushes into you, letting you take in the heat of his seed as it fill your womb that aches for him. He groans loudly against your shoulder and bites down on it— not too hard, but hard enough to leave his teeth markings.

Your eyes roll back, and your legs shake as you cum with him, squeezing his dick impossibly tight. The two of you lay there, trying to catch your breaths, but Zayne isn’t Zayne if his stamina runs out. After his short break, he changes your positions so you’re straddling his waist, and slides back in, holding you up by your ass.

You whimper, and grip the thickness of his antlers, peeking over your shoulder and watching him fuck your filled cunt. He tilts his head down and attacks your neck, kissing, licking, biting all on it. You’re surprised at how he hasn’t broken into a sweat, let alone slowed even a bit.

“When you told me you’d be with that man… I-I tried not to get jealous…” your tightness suffocates him, and he feels like he’s about to pass out. “But fuck, I don’t want any man around you except me… I’m… s-sorry for my selfishness, love…”

Hearing Zayne curse makes your body heat up more, and you moan against his lips. Your hips move on their own, going up and down his length before stopping and grinding against him. His arms tightly hug your waist, wanting no space between you two.

“Stay with me tonight… tomorrow, forever… stay by my side…” you gently bounce up and down, staring in his eyes after his hands cup your face.

“Be mine…” and who were you to deny your crush of nearly 14 years?

Caleb

He sat in his office on Base, watching you from a few cameras somewhere in Skyhaven. You came up to visit him for the weekend, and were going around the city to find stuff to do, stuff to see. A guy got a little too close for Caleb’s liking, and he was forced to watch you smile and laugh with the stranger.

His jaw and fist clenches.

The summer heat had been doing numbers on this animal evol he accidentally got a few weeks ago, and it was making sll the feelings he tried to force down, come bsck up and show themselves. He had a primal urge to just… breed you. Scent you, make everyone in this fucking world kneo you were his, and his alone.

He wanted a wall— no, a room— of nothing but pictures you fucked out because of him; covered and filled to the brim of his cum and nothing else.

It was his way of marking his territory.

He watches you write something down, he’s assuming your number, for the loser, and hears a knock at the door.

“Enter.” An officer steps in, informing him the vehicle is ready.

Looks he’ll be paying you and your little friend a visit.

~

You head for the park after stopping by the cafe for a cup of coffee. It was your first day on vacation in Skyhaven, and you wanted to take your time setting in. You turn the corner and bump into a stranger, nearly spilling the latte onto him.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” Your words rush out as you stare at him.

“I’m all right. Thanks,” he softly smiles when he looks at you.

You take in his features, including that smile, and feel a bit shy. You move to walk around him, but he follows your direction and calls out to you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out for coffee some time? Not now of course because you already have one, but… you’re really pretty and I’d like to get to knoe you.” His words flutter your heart, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Oh, thank you, but I’m not from here, and I’m only here for a week before I head back home.”

He nods his head understandingly. “So, is that a no?”

You blink. “I mean, I can go on a date with you, but it won’t be this week because I’m on vacation and would like the alone time.”

He takes out a piece of paper and pen from his shirt pocket and slowly hands it to you. “Could I have your number then?”

You look at him a bit surprised, then think how this is your first time being asked out without Caleb lingering around or ruining things for you. You stuff your coffee between your arm and breast, and quickly write your number down, then hand him back the pen.

“Thank you… I’ll text you later, yeah?” You nod and bid him farewell before you two part ways.

You weren’t aware that a few street cams had been watching the interaction closely, with the person behind them calmly seething and calculating his next kill.

~

You sat on the bench, and drink the coffee, watching the birds fly around and kids playing with each other. The cherry blossom trees bloomed beautifully, stretching up to the sky in a bushy and perfect shape.

Your ear catches the sound of footsteps approaching, and you don’t bother looking at the person until they stand in front of you. You stop midway of taking a sip and slowly move your eyes up from their boots to their face.

“Caleb?”

“Where’s your friend?” His calm yet cold voice brings shivers to your shoulders.

“My… friend?” Your hand lowers the coffee from your lips.

“The one you were just chatting with.”

“He’s not my friend. Just some stranger I bumped into.” He hums.

“You give him your number?” You freeze.

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” He shrugs before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

“What the hell, Caleb?!—”

“It’s Colonel. Watch your tongue.” He hisses as you get dragged to his vehicle.

“Ugh, let go of me!” You thrash under his grasp, forcing yourself to not look around at the bystanders watching.

You get pushed into his sleek black SUV before he climbs in after, and the cars jerks forward.

~

Your coffee was long cold and tasted gross by the time you two got home. You set it down on the counter and stomp to the guest bedroom.

“Where are you going?” His tone from earlier was replaced with a softer and curious one.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.” You don’t bother to look st him, and walk into the toom, slamming the door.

He sighs, and closes the front door, taking his shoes off. He stares at the hallway you were just in, like he’s contemplating what to do next. His tall figure slowly creeps down the path, before making it in front of your door.

“Pips—”

“Shut up! I’m so fucking annoyed right now. I don’t wanna talk to you!” You yell from the other side, getting undressed.

His jaw clenches and he huffs. “Don’t be like that, please. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

You stomp over and rip the door open. He looks down at you wide and sad puppy eyes then takes his hat off. The pointy, hairy ears immediately pop up then flatten back against his head. His eyes quickly trail your figure, seeing the previous outfit had been replaced with a t-shirt and shorts. He tries hard to keep the growing boner at bay.

“You’re protecting me from getting a date? Protecting me by embarrassing me in public?”

“You know it’s just an act. I never willingly want to hurt you—”

“Bullshit, Caleb! Every single time I’m talking to a guy, you’re there, being weird and totally unsupportive!”

“Because none of those guys deserve you!”

“You say that about every guy I’ve talked to! And that’s more than I can count on both hands!!” Your arms cross. “How did you even know I was there?!”

“I was watching the cameras, pipsqueak.”

“Well, stop doing that.” You go to slam the door but his hand presses on it.

“You know I can’t do that. I have to make sure that you’re safe.” He barely uses strength to push the door open.

You turn to stomp away, but he reaches out and wraps his arms around you.

“Let go of me.”

“No… I miss this.”

“You don’t deserve this. You ruin everything every time I try to do stuff, you’re always there raining on my parade.” You squirm in his embrace.

He turns you around and grasps your forearms. “Do you want to know why I do that?”

You glare in his eyes.

“Because I love you.” He says like it’s the last thing he’ll ever be able to say.

“I love you so much. You’re my world, my heart, my angel. Every thing I do is to ensure that you stay that way. These guys— none of them deserve you and I meant that. I’ve risked my life, all so I can come back to you—”

“I didn’t ask you to do that—”

“Don’t say that.” His tone hardens.

It falls quiet momentarily, and you just stare at each other.

He pulls you close, with your chest touching his abdomen. “I can’t keep pretending to be your best friend when I want to be your boyfriend… y-your husband.” He whispers the last part, his eyes filled with all the adoration and need in the world for you.

His pokes out of his pants and rubs against your thigh. His ears remain flat against his head after spilling his feelings out. “I can’t let you be with anyone else because no one will go lengths to love you like I will, and I know that’s a fact.”

His heart thrashes harshly in his chest. The fear of rejection weighs on his shoulders heavily, but he will have you, one way or another.

“Caleb…” you blink twice, letting your head tilt down as you look at the ground.

“Now you know… why I act the way I do… now you know why I won’t stop… cockblocking you and getting in between you and these randoms… I want you. I need you, more than them.” His voice cracks as he pulls you completely against him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“… you’re such a puppy… so clingy and needy.” You spat in his shoulder, patting his back.

“Love me… please, angel.” You pull back a bit to stare at him.

You can admit that you had some feelings for him, but at the time, you couldn’t tell if they were what you had always felt or were something different.

But looking at him now, you see he’s no longer your Caleb, but a Caleb that’s been hiding his true self from you for years, all because he’s ached to fulfill his one wish of mating with and loving you.

~

Your eye glaze over as you watch his dick push and pull inside you. Your feet dangle over his shoulders as he towers over you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and watching the sight below.

“Fuck, you feel so good, princesss. Hhhh, shiiiit!!” He whines, his tails wagging happily. “A-Always knew you would, but this… this is beyond what I imagined… ngh!!”

The bed creaks and shakes violently as his thrusts get deeper and faster, with him needing to be inside you completely, and not just by his dick either.

His arms swiftly curl around you along with his body as his orgasm rushes in, giving you a few more fast thrusts like the dog he is before settling deep inside and releasing his hot knot. He huffs and whimpers, thrusting the cum into you like a toy pussy.

“N-need to be inside… all the way… ‘s not e-enough…!” He pants as his dick jumps and balls twitch.

He has to be under your skin, had to breathe inside you, Live in you.

Because being balls deep is not enough. He needs to physically feel and see your heart beating, the blood and cells moving through your veins and organs. A Caleb without you is not a Caleb at all, especially if you’re with someone else when he is and isn’t around. He doesn’t want anyone else in your life except him. He can give you everything your heart could ever desire— love, sex, money, worship.

You don’t even have to ask, just exist in his space.

And he’s all yours.

Sylus

He stood at the window of his bedroom, watching outside. He invited you over for a little meeting, but you told him you were busy elsewhere and couldn’t make it.

Silly, kitten. Don’t you know he always gets what he wants?

His phantom tail sways in a way like he’s waiting for something, and as if on cue, the door of his bedroom opens. In come the twins with you being held in his grasp.

“What the hell, Sylus?! I said I was busy!”

He doesn’t turn right away, and just takes a sip of his wine. The bittersweet flavor settles on his tongue before he speaks.

“Leave.” Is all he says, and the twins gently let you go before departing and closing the door behind them.

You stare at it for a moment then look at him, agitated and confused. “What the fuck is this about?”

He turns to finally look at you, and takes in the sight. A dress he bought you for your birthday a couple years ago, sits perfectly on your figure with heels that shouldn’t be worn outside, but instead, in the bedroom.

He sets his glass down, and steps toward you, but you hold your ground.

“I was wondering what could possibly be making you busy, considering it’s your day off.” His deep voice rumbles out.

“I didn’t see you with any friends, you weren’t in your house or at any store... I let Mephisto go and check on you, and he shows me you’re… on a date?” He almost grimaces.

“Why does it matter to you what I do, Sylus? I’m a grown woman with a life. I’m not always doing hunter shit or going on undercover missions here.” You snap, resting your hands on your hips.

He takes more steps forward before standing in front of you, and pulling you close by your waist. “It matters to me when you’re wearing an outfit so sexy and scandalous, but going on romantic outings with some peasant.”

His red eyes stare deep into yours, like he’s holding your soul captive. Your eyebrows furrow, and you force your mind out of the gutter, turning your head away from him. “You know it’s funny. When I first met you, and you made me find that brooch, I asked you if you did all that shit because you liked me. And you know what you said?”

“Clearly, you’ve read to many fairytales.” The flashback plays in both of your minds.

“From that moment on, I knew this wasn’t anything but business. No pleasure, just business. On top of that, why would I waste my time on an arrogant man who lets everyone know he’s untouchable? Who lets everyone know that he’s better than anybody in the damn world? Why should I ever compete with my lover on anything?” Your voice softens, but your glare is very much the opposite.

You move to turn away, but his arms shift, curling around your completely under your abdomen. “Let go, Sylus.”

He doesn’t say anything, and lets his head settle in the crevice of your neck. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

You don’t speak and stare at his bedroom door. You can feel his heart thump against your shoulder, and sigh.

“Kitten, you never have to compete with me. With you, you always win. I’ve been at your mercy since we laid eyes on each other. You could hurt me, and I’d still want you, your love, your heart…. You really don’t know what you do to me, do you?” He whispers in your ear.

You feel a breeze near your leg, making you look down to find nothing there. But, it feels like something’s wrapped around it.

He nuzzles his nose behind your ear and growls. “When I saw you with him, I wanted to show up and kill him right there… how dare he take you from me…”

His arms move back so his hands can slide over your stomach. He tikts his head down and stares at your breasts. “I wanted to take you on that table, in front of all those people… let them know you’re mine.”

His lips press softly on your neck, and you unconsciously give him more room to go at it. Your jaw clenches as you feel your nipples harden and panties getting wet.

“I’ve tried to keep my urges at bay… but it’s hard when all I want is to stuff you full with my babies.” He harshly turns you around and throws you over his shoulder with one hand.

“Hey! Put me down!” You punch his back, wiggling around.

He lays you on his bed, and you crawl back, with him crawling toward you. Your back hits the headboard, and he stops just a few centimeters from your face.

God, he’s so… massive.

Your face and body heat up as your mind imagines what it’d look like if the two of you were naked with him on top of you.

“You don’t need to imagine it,” he breathes out, darting forward and capturing your lips for himself.

You didn’t even tealize his right eye was glowing, let alone realize that you thought that, but there’s no stopping him now.

~

Your nails dig into his bare back as he steadily thrusts into you, kissing and biting your neck. The faint bruises litter around the skin, creating a beautiful sight of his claiming. You cry on his pillow as he stretches you out wider than any man or toy ever, but the pain feels so good.

Your left hand crawls up into his hair and grips the strands, keeping his head against your neck as he takes your body and soul for himself.

“I-I’m coming! Sylus…!!” You yelp when he slams into you and groans against your shoulder, biting down on it.

The sensation is too good to stop now, and he flips you both over, putting you on top of him and straddling his waist. Your body’s weak from the strenuous movement, but he’s not done with you. You whine as his fingers mold into the curve of your head, lightly gripping the strands as he fucks up into you. His hips stay raised as his tail slowly slighters up and wraps around your waist, claiming you as its own too.

“You’re all mine… our souls have been bound for centuries…” he growls as your walls squeeze him when he confesses.

“I’m never letting you go. You cannot get rid of me that easily, sweetie.” Your mind fizzles as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

Your pussy drips down his length and balls with bits of white substance slowly oozing out, and your hands scramble behind you to grab onto his thighs. You find some stength to move on your own, and start bouncing on him, making him move his hands down to your waist and watch you with devotion and lust.

His orgasm surges through once more and he quickly pulls you against him, tightly hugging you as he cums again. Your body trembles as your own pleasure overwhelms you, and your arms hug his neck. After so long of waiting for his mate, he finally found her and captured her again.

And he would not let her escape for another time.

Rafayel

The canvas stood idly in his living room, with some marks of color stamped in ways that created a beautiful work in progress. He’s staring at the image, having known what he wanted to paint earlier and quickly picking up the brush.

Rafayel knew he was drawing you, but not just in a cute or majestic way. It was now a painting of you in a questionable position, one that only adults could look at. He spent too much time detailing your pussy— or what he assumed it looked like— the cum peeking out of your hole with drops of it on the fabric, your expression when he filled your womb, and the obscene sight made the scales under his skin glow brightly.

Rafayel knew from the moment he met you 4 years ago that you were his bride from centuries back. But remembering the catch of keeping his homeland alive forced him into isolation, wanting nothing romantic to do with you— to keep you at arms length. He didn’t want that incident to happen again, nor did he want his people suffering.

And it would’ve worked, had his creature instincts, of wanting to repopulate his homeland, NOT gotten in the way, and practically make it impossible to be away from you. While he did try to stay nearby more often, he found that you were being avoidant, and he didn’t know why.

“Miss bodyguarrrrrd, come see meee!”

“Miss bodyguard, you’re always so busy! Is this how you treat your clients?!”

“Miss bodyguard, give me attention, now!”

You became annoyed by Rafayel always blowing up your phone, and your boyfriend wasn’t taking a liking to it either.

“Why is he always texting and calling you?” He asked one evening.

“It’s just my job as his bodyguard. He gets needy and wants attention sometimes.” You shrug it off, scrolling through the movies on the TV.

“Does he not know that you have a boyfriend?” That’s when you froze.

No, Rafayel didn’t know you were in a relationship. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. The thought of saying so brought a feeling of unease to you, and you kept the truth a secret.

“Yeah, but he’s just… annoying kind of…” you rub the back of your neck. “But the pays good so…”

Your boyfriend didn’t push further, and just snuggled you close to him as you both watched the movie.

~

It’d been a week since you didn’t read any of Rafayel’s texts or answer his calls, and he was fuming. Usually, he’s the one to do that— not to you, never to you— but being on the receiving end of his typical behavior— and it coming from you— was getting to him, fast. He stares at the blank canvas, having replaced the old, used one with a fresh new one.

He kept… painting things he hadn’t seen before. Scenarios that a paranoid boyfriend would make up if his girlfriend went out in without him, and something told him to go check on you. He left the house around 2:32 PM, and headed to the beach. He watches the seagulls flying around, fighting over food and trash, sees a couple of people running around or running into the water.

He was searching for you in these people.

He looked over at the water and felt that pull.

Two people were hugged up, and chatting well inside the water, and as he looked closer, is intuition was right.

It was you, and some lousy human he assumes is your boyfriend. Funny, he should be calling himself that, not some lame mortal.

He steps closer to the shore, and stares at you two, watching you laugh as the guy kisses your shoulder snd neck. His fists slowly clench, and before he knows it, he’s walking into the water. He gets far enough before diving under and transforming into his 10 ft tall deity form, feeling his emotions clash with the body of liquid and weather. He hears the thunder muffle underwater, and feels the shift as rain randomly pours down.

Rafayel sees you two swimming back to the shore, and quickly moves closer, grabbing your lover’s ankle and pulling him underwater. You don’t hear the attack as the sound of rain and the water swirl together, drowning out the sound of your partner’s voice. You get onto the shore and rush under an umbrella nuzzled in the sand, and turn around, only to see your spouse missing.

“Max?” You yell out, looking around for him.

Rafayel swam away from the gruesome scene, after sharks and other predators surrounded the human, who was now their snack. The sound of the creatures fighting each other for it fades away the closer he gets to the shore. You walk toward the water, calling out for your lover, but still don’t see him. A part of you feels worried, and you move to go back in, but a hand grabs your wrist, causing you to quickly turn.

“Cutie? What are you doing out here? You’re gonna get sick!” He pulls you away from the water, going back to his place.

You panic but let him take you, still looking behind for your partner; the distance between you and his disintegrating corpse rapidly grows at the speed Rafayel’s walking in.

~

You sit on the couch with an oversized towel over your back and a cup of hot tea on the coffee table. Rafayel steps into the living room with a pair of pants on and a towel on his head from having gotten out the shower.

“Why don’t you go shower? You’ll get sick if you stay like that, cutie,” he smiles a bit, taking a seat next to you.

“I should get going. I have work to do,” you stand up to leave but his words stop you.

“Work? But Jenna said you’re off the next three days.”

You slowly turn and look at him. “You spoke with my boss?”

“I’ve been looking for you, and you don’t talk to me, so I had to start somewhere.” He puts his hands on his hips.

You stare at him for a moment then turn to leave but he’s quicker and darts in front of you, stopping you from leaving.

“What’s gotten into you?! You’ve been acting really weird lately, and it’s getting annoying, Rafayel.” You cross your arms.

“I’m acting weird? You’re the one avoiding me! You didn’t even tell me you had a boyfriend!” You gawk.

“Why should I have to tell you that?! It’s none of your business, ANYWAY!!” You shift your weight into your left leg.

“It’s my business when my bride is getting cozy with some pesty mortal! … It’s my business when my Queen is getting frisky when some guy that isn’t me!”

“What the FUCK are you talking about?! We’re not even together, Rafayel!!”

“Because you didn’t give me a chance!!”

“Why would I give you a chance when you’re so in your head?! What made you think I’d EVER give someone like you a chance?!” You scream. “I’m just your bodyguard, nothing else!! So why does it MATTER?”

He stands there, feeling that power course through him once more. His eyes close and he steps towards you. “It matters because you’re mine. You’ve been mine for over 8 centuries, and counting. The Fates have already written ours, so why bother trying to change it?”

You glare at his glowing eyes, then look away. “I knew something was off about you… I just couldn’t figure out what…”

“That’s why you hid having a boyfriend from me?” He quietly hisses.

“You didn’t need him anyway,” he gets closer, “you have me. I’m the only one you need, pearl… just like you’re the only one I need.”

You shake your head and move to leave but he grabs you and holds you close. “Let go of me, Rafayel!”

“Not until you feel it… feel the connection our souls have to each other… you never needed him or anyone. Only me…” his voice softens; it echoes with soundwaves that flow to your ear and make you feel woozy.

You pant and shake your head, covering your ears, but it’s no use.

“You can’t escape. Your place is here, by my side.” His hand comes up and grazes your cheek as his voice lures you in.

Like a siren to a sailor.

“Stop… d-doing that,” you hisses, pushing him away and trying to leave.

He barely opens his mouth as a high frequency sound flows from it, striking your eardrum and making you clutch your head in pain.

“You belong here.”

No…

“This is your home now, my bride~” his words echo in your mind.

“You’ll learn your place soon enough.” He comes around you and lift your head by your chin.

He forces you to stare in his eyes, and you feel yourself being put into a box.

“You just… need a little… push.”

~

Your clothes were misplaced on the ground with tears and holes all throughout them. The oh-so-merciful Sea God gave you another chance to do the right thing, and now you rested on your knees. Sucking his two lengths.

“Mmmm, just like that, my treasure…” he hums lowly, stroking your disheveled hair.

The light makeup you wore was now messed u on your pretty face, giving the impression of a crying and distressed woman.

You look so beautiful in his eyes.

He wants to paint this sight— you on your knees sucking his cocks like you were meant to.

Tears, from straining your throat, trickled down your cheeks and dripped onto your bare tits, along with the saliva-cum mixture bubbling up from the sides of your mouth.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it, my pearl? They’re all yours to enjoy for eternities to cum.” He giggled quietly, watching you worship his mythical dicks.

Their angled and flat tip rested on your tongue one at a time as you switched between sucking them off. He sighs happily, and tilts his head back, tightening his grip on the back of your head.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat now. Be a good girl, and take your Sea God’s seed.” His voice rumbles, and brings that ache in your pussy to the surface.

Both his hands hold your head and move it up and down his shaft. You whine and gargle the thick, top cock, rolling your eyes back as it’s tip his the back of your throat. He moans loudly, and you look up to see scales shimmering brightly under his skin.

“Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum. Swallow every drop when I say to!” He thrusts faster, moving your head at the same time.

Your hands hang at your side as he used your mouth for his own pleasure, before he stops. His hot seed burns your mouth, too much filling the small, warm hole and shooting up your nose. Your nose nuzzles in his neatly trimmed pubes as the white essence leaks out, and he slowly pushes your head back, admiring his thick dick inside your mouth.

“You’re so perfect… I really am blessed to be in your existence, my sweet gem.” He whispers adoringly, pulling out completely.

Your mouth and eyes close, and he taps your cheek. “Show me.”

You open your eyes and look up at him, slowly opening your mouth and revealing it full of his nut.

“Fuck…” is all he says as he stares.

Your eyes water and let the last bit of tears slide down your cheeks as he says, “swallow.”

You close your mouth and carefully gulp down the large, salty load, shivering at the taste and texture. He pets your head then pushes you face down onto the ground.

“Good girls get rewarded, don’t they, honey?” He whispers condescendingly, rubbing in between your slick folds.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You tremble when he thumbs your clit.

“My fingers slide in so easily… you got wet just sucking off your God, didn’t you, cutie?” He chuckles.

You whine and cry, and he pulls his fingers out, replacing them with his upper dick. You both sigh, as he stretches you out and mounts you like a dog.

“This is where I belong. Deep inside you, reviving the motherland.” He kisses your back, then pulls out halfway before slamming back in.

He pushes hard until his tip presses against your cervix, and the sensation makes you squirt.

“Goood girl. Make a mess on me and my floors. Show me you know your place.” He growls, as his balls slam against your clit.

You become a moaning mess for him, and he arches your back by gripping the back of your head and pulling it back. You’re forced to look up as he looks down at your face.

“I’ll make you worship these cocks until they’re the only thing on your mind.” He presses the side of your face against the side of the couch, giving you the view behind you.

“I’ll make you whine and cry for me to never leave you… just like I did when you died back then…” he hits that spot deep inside you just right every time

“I’ll make you love me forever.”

If only you had known back then, that taking this ‘job’ as a bodyguard would result you in your freedom and sanity being taken.

Xavier

You sat on the grass staring up the stars. The heat calmed significantly during the night, and the prickly grass felt good, for once, against the bare skin of your arms and thighs. You found this hill while hiking one day and saved the location as a spot you go to when you wanted to get away from the responsibilities of an adult.

Your sweet friend and neighbor, Xavier, had been blowing up your phone, wondering where you went and why you weren’t answering, for the last 3 hours. You ended up turning the device off, but you didn’t know that only upsetted him.

You see, when spending time with an animal for so long, they grow attached. They get clingy, and can develop separation anxiety, so you can assume that happened with Xavier.

The man had the behavior and traits of a bunny, but one thing for sure was that you had a hard time saying no to him. Maybe it was because he could give you that look any cute animal could give when they did something bad. But with Xavier, he’s done many things as your friend and neighbor, you let it slide every time, until now.

You realize that it wasn’t a good thing to withdraw accountability from him. He was a grown man after all, and thinking “no! Xavier would never kill someone just because!” was the worse thing you could do. You found out your ex-crush went missing, and was found dead, shortly after the two of you ran into the bunnyman. You hadn’t notice, at the time, that Xavier was acting weird whenever you brought the guy around, and a part of you still blamed yourself for his death. You found out later that Xavier was the one who killed him, using his light evol— he manifest a celestial spike and stabbed it into his heart. He claimed it was self-defense, the camera footsge painted it as such, so you had no choice to believe him. But his behavior following then had gotten stranger too.

There was CCTV footage in an alley he dragged your crush into, and you only found that footage during an investigation regarding smuggled Protocores. Of course, you were the only that knew it was Xavier from a few tiny details, but when the Association and police saw it, they couldn’t figure out who the perpetrator was, let alone did they care.

You watch as a shooting star passes by and you close your eyes, concentrating to make a wish. The sound of crickets chirping and trees swaying with the light breeze flowing over you brought peace and tranquility for a while until you heard footsteps. You turned and looked but didn’t see anything or anyone. Once you felt calmed, you turned back around, only to find Xavier sitting next to you, inches away from your face.

“FUCK! What the hell, Xavier?!” You screech, putting your hand on your chest.

“I’m sorry. I kept texting and calling you, but you weren’t answering,” his soft voice flutters your heart before you snap out of his trance.

“Mm mm, nope! How did you find this place? How did you even know I was here?!” You cross your arms.

“My light has a way of finding certain footprints, even with shoes.” His long ears sway a bit and he softly smiles. “I missed you.”

“Xavier, this was supposed to be alone time for me. We’re always together, you know?”

He pouts, and looks at you confused. “Why would you want to be alone? Why is it so bad that we’re always together?”

“Because we both live different lives and have different wants and needs. Sometimes, I don’t want to sleep all day or bed rot.” You sigh.

“Then we can do other things. As long as we’re together.” He says casually.

“Xavier, I don’t always want to be around people. I like my alone time.”

“But being alone means I’m not with you. Don’t you care about me?” He whispers, his eyes dilating.

“Xavier—” you’re cut off by a ball of white clouding your sight.

He lays his head on top of your chest, and wraps his arms around you. “This is nice. Xavier likes this very much.”

“Xavier, get off. It’s too hot to be hugging up on me snd shit,” you quietly hiss, trying to push him off.

You both end up falling back onto the grass, and he climbs on top of you. Your eyes widen and your hands rest next to your head.

“What are you—” his hands crawl up your stomsch and cup your underbust.

“Do you know how hard it is to act fine when you’re not around? … It’s like… I can’t exist without you, I can’t live without you…”

“What are you talking about, Xavier? Get off.” You try to push him off but he’s quick to grip your wrists under one hand.

“One part of me knows you need your space; knows that I can’t keep you to myself like I want to… but the other part tells me to keep you to myself… to never leave your side no matter what…” he whispers.

“Xavier…” you look up at him conflicted.

“You know I love you so much, right? I love you like the stars do to the night sky… you’re too precious for me to just let go of.” He leans down and you turn your head.

“I-I didn’t know you felt that way… but please get off.” He looks down at your rising chest, watching the covered mounds lower then rise again.

“Would you let me…?” Your eyes shift to his.

“Let you what…?”

“Suck them, love them… worship them?” He nuzzles his face in your cleavage and your head falls back on the grass.

“X-Xavier, please! This isn’t… ideal!” You squirm under him.

“What do you mean “not ideal”? I love you, why can’t you love me?” He pouts, looking like he’ll start crying.

“I-I haven’t moved on from what you did to Anthony…” a shift happens behind his eyes, and he stares up at you, barely.

“Why are you still holding onto him? He was weak. He didn’t deserve you. But I’m here.” His hand cup your face.

“I’ll take care of you and love you like you deserve… worship this gorgeous body like the temple it is… make you my moon Goddess.” He rests his forehead against you.

“I can’t keep fighting this… I need you.” Is the last thing he says before diving down and kissing you.

Your eyes widen and fists clench, pressing on his chest yo push him back. He cages you underneath him, and continues devouring your sweet lips, feeling his pants tighten.

“Oh, Star…” he whimpers quietly, but yelps when you bite his lip.

He pulls back slowly, letting the pain simmer. “You like biting, huh, Starlight?”

He unbuttons his sweater and peels it off, while you watch with anticipation and excitement—

Wait what?

He hums as his hand lean down mess with your top. “No one will see us… I made sure of that.”

You stare up at your friend, your neighbor, and realize now that the prey he once was, turned into the predator, but maybe he had been that all along.

~

You lay on your back as Xavier crushes you beneath him. His dick slides in and out so easily from all the clear liquid you squirted on him, making the traction of his length between your walls create a loud, squelching noise. Your tits jiggle with every push, and he leans down to grip them, sucking and biting the pebbles in their centers.

“X-Xavier…” is all you can whine, clenching your toes tightly and biting your lip.

The moonlight shined on the two of you, exposing the obscene sight to any curious animals. You whimper in sync with each kiss his tip gives your cervix, and cry at the overwhelming pleasure.

“See? Now you know what I’m capable of. Now you know how good you can feel every. single. day.” His hands grasp the tops of your feet, keeping them against the sides of his head.

His ass slams onto yours once last time then he rolls his hips, grinding the stickiness into your womb for a third time. You both roll your eyes back, and you hug him tightly.

“You’re doing well… taking my seed, helping recreate Philos… ugh gods…” his head falls back as he keeps grinding into you.

You squirt on him, and he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

“Keep going, Star. Keep feeling good. You deserve to feel this… only by me.” He whispers, kissing your lips once more, tasting the blood from earlier.

He rests his forehead against yours again, and stares at your closed eyes, having nothing, but love and adoration for his Queen.

I was supposed to upload this hours ago but i took a fucking nap and forgot about it 💔💔

[yanderejustforyou]

Beta Doesn't know who Owns Her

Nanami Kento x Reader - Alpha x Beta

Words - around 8,300

The joke starts in the break room, the way most office gossip does casual, thoughtless, designed to kill time between meetings.

"You know what the scariest thing about Director Nanamin is?" Jisoo says, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, voice dropping into that conspiratorial tone people use when they're about to say something they shouldn't.

You barely glance up from your coffee. You're mentally reviewing the quarterly report you're supposed to present later, running through the numbers one more time. "His emails?"

Jisoo snorts. "No. The fact that he's never dated anyone. Ever."

You frown slightly, still half-focused on whether you should adjust the projection model for Q3. "That's not scary," you mutter, stirring your drink. "That just means he has standards."

Jisoo gives you a look the kind that suggests you've missed something obvious. "No, it means he's not human. I mean think about it, no ring, we never hear of him being seen with a woman. Come on he's rich and has one of the highest positions at a top company."

A few people laugh. Someone from accounting adds, "I can't even picture him liking someone. Like what would that even look like? Him holding hands? Absolutely not."

You huff quietly, taking a sip. Director Nanamin doesn't strike you as the type to even notice people like that. He's efficient. Cold. Focused. The kind of boss who remembers every detail of every project but never asks about your weekend.

"Hey," Jisoo nudges you suddenly, and her voice drops even lower. "You work closest with him, right? One-on-one reports and all that?"

You nod. It's true you've been his direct report for almost eight months now. He's demanding, but fair. You've learned more under his supervision than you did in two years at your previous company.

"…Does he ever act weird around you?"

You pause mid-sip.

Weird?

You think about it really think about it for the first time. About the way he stands too close when reviewing your work, close enough that you can smell his cologne, something clean and expensive. The way his hand lingers just a second too long when passing documents, fingers brushing yours. The way he adjusts your collar sometimes, like it's part of his job description, like you're incapable of dressing yourself properly.

But that's just... him being particular, right? He's meticulous about everything.

"…No," you say slowly, genuinely puzzled by the question. "He's just strict."

Jisoo goes quiet in a way that feels loaded.

Someone behind you mutters, "That's worse."

You turn. "What?"

"Nothing," Jisoo says quickly, exchanging a glance with someone else. "Forget it."

You shrug it off. People are always reading into things that aren't there. Office gossip is just noise.

By the time you get back to your desk, his message is already waiting.

Director Nanami: Come to my office.

No greeting. No explanation. Typical.

You sigh, grab your tablet with the revised presentation loaded, and head down the hall. You're actually proud of this one, you caught an error in the vendor contract that would've cost the company a significant amount. You're hoping he'll acknowledge it, maybe even in that subtle way he has, where his expression doesn't change but his tone shifts just slightly.

The moment you step inside his office, the temperature drops.

You shiver automatically, goosebumps rising on your arms. "It's freezing in here."

Nanami doesn't look up immediately. He finishes signing something with that expensive fountain pen he always uses, movements calm, composed, perfect as always. Everything about him is controlled. Precise. You've never seen him flustered, never seen him make a mistake.

Then his eyes lift to you.

Sharp.

Observing.

Lingering in a way that makes you want to check if there's something on your face.

"…You didn't bring a jacket," he says.

It's not a question. It's a statement of fact, delivered with the same tone he uses when pointing out a miscalculation in a spreadsheet.

"I'm fine," you reply, shifting your weight. You are fine. It's just a little cold. You've worked through worse.

A beat of silence.

He stands.

Your eyes track the movement automatically, he's tall, taller than you remember sometimes, and there's something about the way he moves that's unnaturally fluid. Deliberate. Like every action is calculated three steps ahead.

He crosses the room.

Before you can react, his hand is at your shoulder firm, steady, warm as he shrugs off his blazer and drapes it over you.

The fabric is heavy. Expensive. It settles around your shoulders like something deliberate, something that carries weight beyond just warmth. It smells like him that same clean, expensive scent, but stronger now. Almost overwhelming.

"You'll get sick," he says.

You blink, surprised by the gesture. "Director, I really don't—"

"Wear it."

The tone isn't loud. It's not even particularly harsh.

But it ends the conversation with the finality of a door closing.

"…Okay."

You adjust it awkwardly, feeling ridiculous. The sleeves swallow your hands completely. You probably look like a child playing dress-up in adult clothes. Professional. Very professional.

Nanami watches you for a second too long.

There's something in his expression you can't quite read something that might be satisfaction, or possession, or both. His eyes track the way the fabric drapes over your frame, the way you're swimming in something that belongs to him.

Then he steps closer.

Too close.

Close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact.

"Hold still."

His fingers brush your neck.

You freeze.

He's adjusting your collar again but this time slower. More precise. His thumb presses lightly just below your ear, where your pulse is probably visible, where your skin is most sensitive. You can feel the warmth of his hand, the controlled strength in his fingers.

Your breath catches. "Is… something wrong?"

"…No."

His voice is quieter now. Closer. You can feel it more than hear it.

"Your presentation," he continues, like his hand isn't currently touching your throat, like this is completely normal, "needs revision."

You nod quickly, trying to focus on work, on the actual reason you're here. "Right. I'll fix it. I think the vendor analysis in section three could be stronger—"

His hand doesn't move right away.

When it finally does, it drags, just slightly, along your shoulder before he pulls back. The touch is deliberate. Possessive. Like he's marking something.

You don't notice.

You're already thinking about the presentation, about which sections need work, about how you can tighten the argument in the third quarter projections.

"Sit," he says.

You do, settling into the chair across from his desk, his blazer still wrapped around you. You pull out your tablet, ready to take notes on his feedback. This is what you're good at taking criticism, improving, and iterating. You've built your career on being coach-able.

You don't notice how the hallway outside has gone completely silent.

You don't notice the way two coworkers pass by the glass wall, the office has partial glass walls for "transparency," though right now the blinds are angled just enough to obscure most of the view, only to immediately look away, faces tight, uneasy. You don't see the way they hurry past, the way one of them grabs the other's arm and pulls them along faster.

You don't notice the way the air around you feels… heavier. Thicker. Like something has settled into the space between you and him, something that doesn't dissipate even when he returns to his seat.

Something that doesn't belong to you.

Something you can't name because you don't have the framework to recognize it.

Nanami returns to his seat with that same fluid grace, settling into his chair like a predator that's already caught its prey and is simply deciding when to bite down. His gaze fixes on you steady, unwavering, intense in a way that would make most people uncomfortable.

But you just open your tablet, stylus ready.

Steady.

Calculating.

He's thinking about how you walked into his office without hesitation, how you wear his jacket without understanding what it means, how you sit there completely oblivious to the fact that every alpha in a three-floor radius can now smell him on you. How you don't notice the way people have started giving you a wider berth in the hallways, the way conversations stop when you enter a room.

You're brilliant with numbers, with strategy, with analysis.

But you can't see what's right in front of you.

You can't smell the danger lurking around every corner, the territorial lines he's been drawing around you for months now, the way he's been slowly, methodically isolating you from anyone who might interfere.

And that's exactly why you need him.

Why you'll always need him.

"…Start," he says, his voice carrying that edge of command that makes something in your hindbrain want to obey, even as your conscious mind just registers it as his normal professional tone.

You begin walking through your presentation, pointing out the cost analysis, the risk assessment, the projected ROI. You're confident here. This is your domain. You've triple-checked every number, every source, every assumption.

You're so focused on the data that you don't notice the way his eyes never leave your face.

The way he's not looking at the screen at all.

The way he's watching you like you're the only thing in the room that matters.

Like you're something precious that needs to be protected.

Or possessed.

Or both.

The meeting ends forty-five minutes later with a list of revisions that aren't actually that extensive—mostly minor adjustments to the formatting, a few clarifications on the vendor terms. Reasonable feedback. Professional. You leave his office with his blazer still draped over your shoulders because he'd given you that look when you tried to return it, the one that meant the conversation was over before it started.

You'll give it back later. After lunch, maybe. When he's in a meeting.

The relief hits you the moment you're back at your desk.

It's not that the meeting was bad, Director Nanami's feedback was actually helpful, precise as always, but there's something about being in that office with him that makes your shoulders tense in ways you don't fully understand. The weight of his attention, maybe. The way he watches you like he's waiting for you to make a mistake, even when you don't.

You drape his blazer over the back of your chair and let yourself breathe.

The office feels lighter out here. Warmer. The afternoon sun streams through the windows, and there's the comfortable ambient noise of keyboards clicking, phones ringing, the coffee machine gurgling in the distance. Normal. Safe.

You're just pulling up the presentation file to start on those revisions when Hana appears at your desk.

"Hey," she says, leaning against the partition with that easy smile she always has. Hana's in operations, a beta like you, competent and friendly without being overbearing. You've worked together on a few cross-departmental projects. She's... easy to talk to. Uncomplicated.

"Hey," you reply, glancing up. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to see if you survived the director's office." She grins. "You were in there a while. Did he tear apart the presentation?"

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Not as badly as I expected, actually. Just some formatting stuff and clarifications."

"See? I told you it was solid." Hana pulls up a chair, sitting backward on it with her arms folded over the backrest. "You always overthink these things."

"Because he notices everything," you say, but there's no heat in it. Just fact. "If there's a typo on slide thirty-seven, he'll find it."

"That's because he's a robot," Hana says matter-of-factly. "I'm convinced. No one is that precise naturally."

You snort, an actual, genuine sound that surprises even you. "A robot?"

"Think about it. Have you ever seen him eat? Like, actually eat?"

You pause, considering. "...He has coffee."

"Coffee isn't food. That proves nothing." Hana leans forward conspiratorially. "I bet he plugs into an outlet at night. Charges up. That's why he's always here before everyone else."

The image is so absurd that you can't help it, you laugh.

Really laugh.

Not the polite, professional chuckle you use in meetings. Not the quiet huff you give when something is mildly amusing. An actual laugh that comes from your chest, that makes your shoulders shake slightly, that feels good in a way you haven't felt in weeks.

"That's—" you try to speak through it, "—that's ridiculous."

"Is it though?" Hana grins wider, clearly pleased with herself. "Explain the coffee thing. Explain how he never looks tired. Explain—"

"He's just disciplined," you manage, still smiling. Your cheeks almost hurt from it. When was the last time you smiled like this at work? "Very, very disciplined."

"Disciplined robots. That's what I'm saying."

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but the smile won't leave. It sits on your face, warm and comfortable, like something that belongs there. You feel... light. Unburdened. Like you've been holding your breath for months and finally remembered how to exhale.

This is nice.

This is easy.

Just talking. Just existing without the weight of expectation pressing down on your shoulders.

You don't notice the way the temperature drops.

Not at first.

Across the floor, behind glass walls and Venetian blinds angled just enough to provide the illusion of privacy—

Nanami hears it.

Not the words.

The tone.

Light.

Unrestrained.

Wrong.

His pen stills mid-signature, ink pooling slightly on the document beneath it. He doesn't notice. Doesn't care.

Slowly, deliberately, he looks up.

Through the gaps in the blinds, his gaze finds you instantly, like it always does, like some part of him is always aware of exactly where you are in any given space.

And there it is.

That expression.

That softness in your face he's only seen in glimpses, in moments before you notice him watching. That smile you never wear in front of him.

You're laughing.

With someone else.

At something someone else said.

Looking at someone else with that open, unguarded warmth that should be

His jaw tightens.

Something cold and sharp unfurls in his chest, spreading through his ribs like frost. It's not anger. Anger is too hot, too uncontrolled. This is colder. More precise.

Possessive.

Territorial.

Wrong.

The word echoes in his mind as he watches you duck your head slightly, still smiling, still so completely at ease in a way you never are with him. The beta he doesn't even bother learning their name—is leaning too close. Casual. Familiar.

Touching the back of your chair.

Making you laugh.

Taking something that isn't theirs.

Nanami stands.

The movement is fluid, controlled, but there's something deliberate about it. Predatory. He doesn't rush. Doesn't need to.

He simply moves.

You're still smiling when Hana suddenly stops mid-sentence.

Her expression shifts—subtle, but noticeable. The easy warmth drains from her face, replaced by something more cautious. Alert.

"...Did it just get colder?" she asks quietly.

You blink, confused. "What?"

But Hana isn't looking at you anymore.

She's looking past you.

Toward the office.

You feel it then that prickle of awareness at the back of your neck, the one that makes your spine straighten automatically. The one you've learned to recognize over eight months of working under Director Nanami.

You turn.

He's standing just outside his office door.

Watching.

The smile drops from your face immediately. Not completely, you're not sure you could erase it that fast even if you tried, but enough. Enough that your expression shifts back into something more appropriate. More professional.

More careful.

"Director Nanami," you say, standing automatically. Your voice comes out steady, but there's a question in it. "Did you need something?"

He doesn't answer right away.

His gaze flicks once, brief, dismissive, cold toward Hana.

The temperature drops another degree.

Around you, you notice peripherally that conversations have quieted. Someone's phone stops ringing. The coffee machine seems louder in the sudden silence.

Then—

"Leave."

It's quiet.

Flat.

But it isn't directed at you.

Hana stiffens. You see her throat work as she swallows. "I—right. I have that report to finish anyway."

She stands quickly, not quite meeting your eyes. Not looking at him either.

She just... leaves.

Faster than necessary.

You watch her go, confused. The report isn't due until next week. You know because you helped her with part of the data analysis last Thursday.

But before you can process that, Nanami is moving again.

Closer.

Not rushed. Not hesitant.

Measured.

Each step deliberate, like he's already calculated exactly how many it will take to reach you. He stops just inside your personal space, closer than professional, closer than necessary, close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact.

Close enough that you can smell his cologne again, that clean expensive scent that's been clinging to his blazer, the one still draped over your chair.

"You seem," he says slowly, each word precisely placed, "in a good mood."

Your fingers tighten slightly around the edge of your desk. "Just discussing work."

A beat of silence.

His eyes move over your face like he's cataloging something. Like he's trying to memorize exactly what you looked like thirty seconds ago so he can systematically erase it.

"You don't sound like that," he says, voice lower now, dropping into a register that makes something in your head sit up and pay attention, "when you speak to me."

Your breath catches—just slightly. "I—"

"You were smiling."

It's not an accusation.

Like he's pointing out an error in your work. A miscalculation. Something that needs correction.

You don't know how to respond to that. What are you supposed to say? Yes, I was smiling, is that not allowed? It sounds absurd even in your head. So you default to the safest thing, the most professional response you can manage:

"...I'm sorry?"

The words come out uncertain. Questioning.

Because you genuinely don't understand what you're apologizing for.

Silence stretches between you.

Then—

His hand lifts.

You already know what's coming. You've been through this enough times now that it's almost routine. He's going to adjust your collar. Again. Because apparently you're incapable of dressing yourself properly, or because he has standards about professional appearance that border on obsessive, or because

His fingers brush your collar.

Adjusting.

Straightening.

But this time, it's different.

Firmer.

More deliberate.

His thumb presses just enough against the side of your neck.

Right over your gland.

You flinch.

It's instinctive. Immediate. That spot is sensitive in ways you don't fully understand, in ways that make your hindbrain scream too close, too vulnerable, wrong wrong wrong—

"...Director?"

His eyes don't leave your face.

For a moment, something darker flickers there something sharper than his usual controlled calm, something that makes your pulse jump for reasons you can't name.

Then it's gone.

Smoothed over.

Professional.

His hand drops, but slowly. Deliberately. Like he's making a point.

"Prepare your things," he says.

You blink, trying to reorient yourself, trying to push past the lingering sensation of his thumb against your gland. "For...?"

"We're leaving tomorrow."

"...Leaving?"

"A business trip."

Your confusion must show on your face because you're not even trying to hide it anymore. "No one mentioned—"

"I'm mentioning it now."

The finality in his tone shuts down the rest of your question before it can form.

You swallow. "...Where?"

Nanami's hand drops completely from your collar, but his gaze stays.

Heavy.

Intent.

Possessive in a way you don't have the framework to recognize.

"Somewhere," he says, and his voice drops even lower, intimate in a way that makes your skin prickle, "you won't be... distracted."

A pause.

He turns and walks away like nothing happened. Like he didn't just decide something that changes everything for you. Like this is completely normal. You stand there for a moment.

Still.

Trying to piece it together.

A business trip? With him? Alone? You don't remember seeing anything about this on the calendar. Don't remember any emails about client meetings or site visits or conferences.

When did this get scheduled?

Why didn't anyone tell you?

"...What just happened?" you murmur to yourself.

Across the office, you catch sight of Jisoo. She's staring at you wide-eyed, her coffee cup frozen halfway to her mouth.

Minho is at the desk next to her. He looks like he's about to say something, mouth opening slightly. Then he closes it. Thinks better of it. Looks away.

The office is too quiet.

You notice it now the way conversations haven't quite resumed their normal volume. The way people are very carefully not looking in your direction.

The way the air feels heavier.

Thicker.

Wrong.

You shake your head slightly, trying to clear it. You're overthinking this. It's just a business trip. Probably something last-minute. Director Nanami is always getting pulled into unexpected meetings, urgent client situations. This is probably just one of those things.

Professional.

Normal.

You sit back down at your desk, pulling up your calendar to figure out what you'll need to reschedule.

You don't notice the way Jisoo and Minho exchange a look.

You don't notice the way Hana hasn't come back to her desk.

You don't notice the way Director Nanami is standing in his office again, watching you through the blinds.

Still.

Patient.

Satisfied.

Because whatever line existed before whatever boundary separated professional from personal, appropriate from possessive—

He just erased it.

And you have no idea.

Minho knew something was wrong the second you walked past him. After your meeting with him.

It hit him before he even looked up.

Warm.

Deep.

Rich—

Like freshly brewed coffee left too long on a burner, thickening into something darker, heavier.

And underneath it

Something sharp. Dominant. Cutting straight through.

Alpha.

His head snapped up.

You were already halfway down the hall, clutching your tablet, completely unaware of the way the air shifted around you. Like a pressure drop. Like a warning.

Minho’s stomach twisted.

“…No way,” he muttered.

Jisoo followed his gaze—and immediately stiffened.

“Oh my god.”

“Do you smell that?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

She nodded slowly. “That’s not just her scent anymore.”

It couldn’t be.

Not like that.

Not this strong.

Not this layered.

They both looked toward the office door just as it clicked shut behind you.

Silence stretched between them.

Then—

“Should we… do something?” Minho asked, though it sounded weak even to him.

Jisoo let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Do what? Walk in there and tell him to stop?”

Minho didn’t answer.

Because they both knew who him was.

Director Nanami didn’t just run their department—he controlled it. Every promotion, every evaluation, every transfer.

And right now?

He was marking someone in broad daylight.

A few before your meeting had rapped up. Minho couldn’t help it.

He passed by the office.

Just… to check.

That’s all.

The glass wall made everything visible.

Too visible.

You were sitting across from the desk, shoulders slightly hunched, clearly nervous but focused, flipping through your notes like this was just another meeting.

Like nothing was wrong.

Like you couldn’t feel it.

Nanami stood beside you.

Not behind his desk.

Not across from you.

Too close.

His hand rested on the back of your chair, fingers curled just enough to brush your shoulder.

Possessive.

Casual.

Intentional.

Minho’s throat went dry.

“…He’s not even hiding it,” he whispered.

Inside, Nanami leaned down slightly, saying something to you calm, composed.

His other hand lifted.

Adjusted your collar.

Again.

Slow.

Deliberate.

His fingers lingered at your neck.

Right over your glands.

Minho physically recoiled.

“Jesus—”

Jisoo grabbed his sleeve, yanking him back before he could stare any longer. “Stop looking. If he notices—”

“He wants people to notice,” Minho cut in under his breath. “That’s the problem.”

They both fell quiet.

Because that was the worst part.

This wasn’t sloppy.

It wasn’t accidental.

It was controlled.

Measured.

A message.

Across the room, someone else spoke up in a hushed voice:

“…Is she seriously not reacting?”

Jisoo shook her head slowly. “I told you her sense of smell is bad.”

Minho exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “So she has no idea she’s basically walking around covered in—”

“—him,” Jisoo finished.

Silence again.

Heavy this time.

Uneasy.

Because now it didn’t feel like gossip anymore.

It felt like watching something unfold that no one was supposed to interfere with.

Something territorial.

Something dangerous.

Minho glanced back at the office one last time.

Through the glass, Nanami had finally returned to his seat.

But his gaze hadn’t left you.

Not once.

It followed every movement.

Every shift.

Every breath.

Like you were something he’d already decided belonged to him

And was just waiting for the rest of the world to accept it.

Minho looked away first.

“…She’s in trouble,” he said quietly.

Jisoo didn’t disagree.

Two weeks later.

The hotel keycard feels too light in your hand.

“That’s… one room,” you say, staring at it like it might change if you look long enough.

Beside you, Nanami doesn’t even glance down.

“Yes.”

You blink. “…There has to be a mistake.”

“There isn’t.”

Simple.

Final.

You hesitate. “I can go back to the front desk—”

“No.”

The word cuts clean through your sentence.

You go quiet.

He finally looks at you then calm, composed, like always.

But there’s something under it.

Something that makes your chest tighten.

“It’s late,” he continues. “We have an early meeting. This is the most efficient arrangement.”

Efficient.

Right.

That makes sense.

It has to.

“…Okay,” you murmur.

The room is quiet when the door shuts behind you.

Too quiet.

You set your bag down quickly, moving toward the window, the desk anywhere that isn’t standing in the middle of the room with him.

There’s only one bed.

You try not to look at it.

“I can take the couch,” you say quickly, even though there isn’t really one just a small love seat by the window.

Nanami sets his things down with deliberate calm.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Your stomach tightens.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind—”

“I said,” he interrupts, voice low, “it won’t be necessary, I'll take the couch.”

Silence.

You nod.

Nanami watches you move around the room. Too aware. Too careful. Keeping distance.

Always keeping distance. It irritates him more than it should. More than it ever has.

Because not to long ago at work.

That laugh.

That smile.

It replays in his mind with perfect clarity.

Not for him.

Never for him.

His jaw tightens slightly.

Unacceptable.

You feel his presence before you see him.

Close again.

Always close.

“Turn around.”

You freeze for a second then obey.

“…Yes?”

His gaze drags over your face, slower than it should be.

Assessing.

Measuring.

Like he’s looking for something that’s no longer there.

“…You’re quieter now,” he says.

You frown slightly. “We’re not at the office.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

You don’t know how to answer that.

So you don’t.

His hand lifts.

Your breath catches automatically.

Fingers brush your collar adjusting, like always.

But this time, there’s no one watching.

No glass walls.

No coworkers.

Just you.

And him.

His thumb presses lightly against your neck.

Right over your gland.

You flinch.

“…You react,” he murmurs.

Confusion flickers across your face. “To being touched?”

A pause.

His eyes darken bjust slightly.

“You don’t react to me.”

Your brows pull together. “I do. I listen. I—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

His voice drops.

Quieter.

He steps closer. Close enough that your back nearly hits the edge of the desk.

“At work, before” he says, “you were… different.”

Your heart starts beating faster, though you’re not sure why.

“I was just talking—”

“You were smiling.”

There it is again. That same observation. That same weight behind it.

You swallow. “…I smile sometimes.”

“Not like that.”

The words come out softer.

More controlled.

But they land heavier.

Nanami’s thoughts narrow, sharpen. He can still feel it. That shift in you.That warmth you give so easily to others. while standing so carefully, so neutrally, with him. As if he’s something to endure. Not something to want. His fingers press more firmly against your neck.

Not enough to hurt.

Enough to remind.

To ground.

To claim.

You don’t even realize what you are.

How you affect him.

How long he’s allowed this distance to exist.

Too long.

Your breath stutters slightly. “Director… Nanami?”

A warning.

A question.

You’re not even sure which.

His name sounds different like this.

Softer.

Uncertain.

He notices.

Of course he does.

His grip loosens, but doesn’t disappear.

“…You don’t understand,” he says quietly.

“Understand what?”

A pause.

Then—

“You will.”

Something in your chest tightens at that.

“…This is just a work trip,” you say, like you’re trying to convince both of you.

Nanami’s gaze holds yours. Unblinking.

“No,” he says.

The word is calm.

Certain.

Terrifying in how simple it is.

“It isn’t.”

Silence stretches between you.

Heavy.

Unavoidable.

You don’t know what he means.

But you feel it.

That something has shifted.

That the lines you thought were there

aren’t anymore.

Nanami finally steps back. Just enough to give you space.

Not enough to feel safe.

“We'll go over everything during dinner,” he says.

Like nothing happened.

Like everything is still under control.

But as he turns away

his thoughts settle into something firm.

Decided.

Measured.

It’s time.

No more distance.

No more misunderstandings.

No more watching you give pieces of yourself to people who don’t recognize what they’re being given. You don’t know it yet.

But you will.

Soon.

The knock comes at seven-thirty.

You've been staring at your laptop for the past twenty minutes, the same paragraph of the presentation blurring in and out of focus. The room is nice too nice, actually. The kind of hotel room that makes you acutely aware of the budget approval Nanami must have signed off on. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, a king bed with crisp white linens, a sitting area with a couch and love seat that probably costs more than your monthly rent.

You're changed into something professional but comfortable,a soft sweater and slacks, because you'd showered and changed after the flight, trying to wash away the anxiety that's been clinging to your skin since this morning, after Nanami went out for some work related stuff, do he said.

It doesn't work.

When you open the door, Nanami is standing there in his shirtsleeves, jacket discarded, top button undone. It's the most casual you've ever seen him, and somehow that makes it worse.

More intimate.

More real.

"I ordered dinner," he says. "It should arrive shortly."

You blink. "Oh I was going to just order something light—"

"We need to discuss tomorrow's agenda, as I said before." His tone is matter-of-fact. Professional.

Of course it is.

Of course this is about work.

You step aside, letting him in, and try to ignore the way your heart rate picks up as he moves past you into your space. He's carrying a leather portfolio and his own laptop this really is just a working dinner. You're being ridiculous.

"I hope you don't mind," he continues, setting his things on the small dining table by the window. "I took the liberty of ordering wine as well. The hotel has an excellent selection."

"That's—that's fine," you manage.

You do mind, actually. Not the wine itself, but the thoughtfulness of it. The consideration. It feels too personal, too attentive, and you don't know what to do with that.

Room service arrives fifteen minutes later—two attendants wheeling in covered dishes, a bottle of red wine already opened to breathe, proper glassware that catches the light. Nanami tips them generously and waits until they leave before gesturing to the table.

"Sit."

You do.

The food is beautiful—some kind of fish with delicate sauce, roasted vegetables, a small salad. The kind of meal that requires you to think about which fork to use. Nanami serves the wine himself, pouring yours first.

The glass is fuller than you expected.

"Thank you," you murmur.

He pours his own barely two fingers and sets the bottle within easy reach.

Your reach, you'll realize later.

Not his.

The first sip of wine helps.

It's good smooth and rich, the kind of wine you'd never order for yourself because you wouldn't know what to look for. It warms your throat, settles in your chest, takes the edge off the nervous energy that's been humming under your skin all day.

Nanami opens his laptop, pulling up tomorrow's schedule. "The client meeting is at nine. I'll handle the initial presentation, but I want you to lead the technical breakdown."

You nod, taking another sip. Focusing on work helps too. This is familiar territory. Safe.

"I've prepared supplementary materials," you say, pulling up your own files. "The cost-benefit analysis and the implementation timeline—"

"Good." His eyes flick to you briefly before returning to his screen. "Walk me through your approach."

So you do.

And as you talk, you drink.

Not consciously at first. Just your glass is there, and your throat is dry from talking, and the wine makes everything feel slightly less intense. Slightly more manageable.

You don't notice when you finish the first glass.

But Nanami does.

He reaches for the bottle without breaking eye contact with his screen, refilling your glass with the same casual efficiency he does everything.

"Continue," he says.

By the time you're halfway through the main course, you've lost track of how much you've had.

Three glasses? Four?

The bottle is significantly lighter than it was.

But you feel better. Looser. The anxiety that's been coiled in your chest since this morning has finally started to unwind. You're talking more freely now, gesturing with your fork as you explain your reasoning for certain data points, even laughing softly when you catch a small error in your own notes.

"I can't believe I missed that," you say, shaking your head. "I checked this three times."

"You're thorough," Nanami says. "But not infallible."

There's something in his tone, something almost warm that makes you glance up.

He's watching you.

Not your screen. Not the documents.

You.

"I just—I want it to be perfect," you admit. The wine has made you honest in ways you wouldn't normally allow. "You have high standards. I don't want to disappoint you."

Something flickers in his expression.

"You haven't," he says quietly.

The weight of his gaze makes your skin feel warm. You take another sip of wine to cover the flush creeping up your neck.

Nanami's own glass sits mostly untouched beside his plate. He'd taken one sip early on you'd seen it peripherally, but it hasn't moved since.

You don't notice.

You're too focused on the way the room feels smaller now, warmer, the city lights beyond the window blurring into soft halos.

"Tell me something," Nanami says suddenly.

You blink, pulled from your thoughts. "What?"

"Earlier. In the office." He sets down his fork with deliberate precision. "You were laughing. With that beta from operations."

Your stomach tightens slightly. "Hana? We were just—"

"You seemed comfortable."

It's not a question.

You shift in your seat. "She's easy to talk to."

"And I'm not."

The words hang between you.

You open your mouth. Close it. The wine has made you too honest, but not honest enough to say what you're thinking: You terrify me. You make me second-guess everything. I can never tell if I'm doing well or failing, if you're pleased or disappointed, if I'm—

"You're my boss," you say instead. "It's different."

"Different how?"

You take another drink, buying time. The wine is making everything feel slightly unreal, like you're watching this conversation happen to someone else.

"I don't know," you admit. "It just is."

Nanami leans back in his chair, and the movement draws your attention to the way his shirt pulls across his shoulders, the way the lamplight catches the sharp line of his jaw.

You look away quickly.

Too quickly.

He notices.

Of course he does.

"You're nervous," he observes.

"I'm not—"

"You've had five glasses of wine."

Your hand freezes halfway to your glass. Five? That can't be right. You'd been keeping track—

Except you hadn't. You look at the bottle. It's nearly empty.

When did that happen?

"I'm sorry," you say automatically. "I didn't mean to—I'll pay for—"

"I don't care about the wine." His voice is quiet. Controlled. But there's something underneath it that makes your pulse jump. "I care that you feel you need it, but right now I'm not complaining it'll help with tonight."

The concern in his tone catches you off-guard.

He sounds... worried. Considerate. Like a boss who's noticed his employee is struggling and wants to help.

That's all this is, you tell yourself. Professional concern.

"I'm just—" You struggle to find the words. The wine has made your thoughts fuzzy, harder to organize. "This is new. Being here. Alone. With you. I mean—not alone, obviously we're working, but—"

You're rambling.

You never ramble.

"I understand," Nanami says.

And the way he says it low and certain makes something in your chest constrict.

He stands, and for a moment you think he's leaving, that you've made this too awkward, that you've crossed some line.

But he doesn't move toward the door.

He moves toward you.

Your breath catches as he stops beside your chair. Close enough that you can smell his cologne again, that clean expensive scent that's been haunting you all day.

"You don't need to be nervous," he says quietly.

His hand lifts—

And for a moment, you think he's going to touch you.

But he just reaches past you, picking up the wine bottle.

"You've had enough," he says.

It's not a suggestion.

You nod mutely, not trusting your voice.

Nanami sets the bottle on the far counter, out of reach, and when he turns back, his expression is unreadable.

He'd needed to see it.

Needed to watch you soften.

Needed to hear you talk without that careful professional filter you always maintain.

Needed to confirm what he already knew:

That underneath all that competence and control, you're vulnerable.

Uncertain.

His.

"You should stand," he says. "Sitting too long after drinking."

It sounds reasonable. Considerate, even.

You push yourself up from the chair, and the room tilts just slightly. Not enough to lose your balance, but enough that you have to steady yourself against the table.

Nanami's hand is there immediately.

On your elbow. Steadying you.

"Careful."

His voice is closer than it should be.

You turn your head, and he's right there, close enough that you can see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, the precise edge of his collar, the way his throat moves when he swallows.

"I'm fine," you manage. "Just—the wine—"

"I know."

Something in his tone makes your skin prickle.

He doesn't step back.

Instead, his hand slides from your elbow to your upper arm, and the touch is warm even through your sweater. Grounding. You should pull away this is too close, too familiar, but the wine has made everything feel slightly distant, like you're watching this happen through frosted glass.

"You're flushed," Nanami observes.

His other hand lifts, and you think he's going to touch your face, check for fever, something professional and appropriate.

But he doesn't.

His fingers brush against your collar instead.

The same gesture he's done a dozen times in his office, adjusting fabric that doesn't need adjusting.

Except this time, his knuckles graze the side of your neck.

Right over your scent gland.

Your breath catches.

"Director—"

"Nanami," he corrects quietly. "We're not in the office."

The intimacy of it, his first name, spoken in this low voice, in this hotel room with the city lights blurring beyond the window, makes something flutter in your chest.

His hand is still at your collar.

Still touching your neck.

And then he leans in.

Not quickly. Not suddenly.

Slowly. Deliberately.

Like he's giving you time to stop him.

But you don't.

You can't.

The wine has made you slow, made your thoughts thick and syrupy, and by the time you realize what's happening, his face is already near the curve of your neck.

Not touching.

Just—

Close.

You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin first.

Then the deliberate, measured inhale.

He's—

He's scenting you.

The realization cuts through the fog, sharp and sudden.

Alphas don't do this. Not casually. Not with colleagues. This is intimate. Possessive. This is—

"Director—" Your voice comes out breathless. Uncertain.

"Shh." The sound is barely a whisper against your throat. "You're trembling."

You are.

You didn't realize it until he said it, but your whole body is shaking, fine tremors that you can't control, can't stop.

"I'm just—" You try to form words, try to explain, but his nose brushes against the sensitive skin below your ear and all thought scatters.

Another inhale.

Deeper this time.

Like he's drawing your scent into himself. Memorizing it. Claiming it.

Your hands come up instinctively to push him away, to steady yourself, you're not sure but they just hover uselessly in the air between you.

"You smell different when you're relaxed," Nanami murmurs.

The words vibrate against your skin.

"Less guarded. More..." He pauses, and you feel rather than see the slight curve of his mouth. "...honest."

This isn't professional.

This isn't appropriate.

This is—

But the wine has made everything soft and hazy, and his hand is still on your arm, grounding you, and the warmth of him is seeping into your skin, and you can't quite make your body move away.

Can't quite make yourself.

"I don't—" You swallow hard. "I don't understand."

"I know."

His nose traces up the line of your throat, following your pulse.

Another inhale.

Your knees feel weak.

"This is—we shouldn't—"

"Why not?"

The question is so simple. So direct.

And you don't have an answer.

Or rather, you have a dozen answers because he's your boss, because this is inappropriate, because you're drunk and he's not, because this feels like something you can't take back, but none of them make it past the fog in your head.

"I'm just checking," Nanami says, his voice still that same low, reasonable tone. "You were nervous earlier. Anxious. I want to make sure you're alright."

That's—

That's all this is?

A wellness check?

It sounds absurd even as you think it, but the alternative is too overwhelming to process.

"I'm fine," you whisper.

"Are you?"

His hand slides from your arm to your waist, and the touch is so warm, so steady, that you find yourself leaning into it without meaning to.

"Your heart is racing," he observes.

It is.

You can feel it hammering against your ribs, can hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"That's just—the wine—"

"Is it?"

Another inhale, this one right at the junction of your neck and shoulder. The most sensitive part of your scent gland. Your whole body shudders.

A soft sound escapes your throat, not quite a gasp, not quite a whimper and you feel Nanami's grip on your waist tighten fractionally.

Possessive.

Satisfied.

"You're so responsive," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice that makes heat pool low in your stomach. "Even when you don't understand why."

You should ask what he means.

Should demand an explanation.

Should move.

But you don't.

You just stand there, trembling, while he breathes you in like you're something ... Something he's been waiting for.

Something that's already his.

When he pulls back this time, something has changed.

You see it in his eyes first the careful control that's been there all evening, all these months, finally cracking at the edges.

Not breaking.

Shifting.

"The bed," he says.

Not a suggestion. A statement of fact.

His hands guide you backward, and your legs hit the mattress before you realize you've moved. The wine makes everything slow, makes your protests form too late, makes your body comply before your mind catches up.

"Wait—"

"No."

The word is quiet. Absolute.

He follows you down as you sink onto the sheets, his weight settling over you with deliberate precision. Not crushing. Commanding.

Your hands come up to push him away, to create space but he catches your wrists. Both of them. Pins them above your head with one hand.

The ease of it makes your breath catch.

"Director—"

"Nanami." His free hand traces down your side, slow and purposeful. "Say it."

You shake your head, and his grip on your wrists tightens fractionally.

"Say. It."

"Nanami—" It comes out breathless. Uncertain.

"Good."

His hand finds the hem of your sweater, and you feel the cool air against your skin as he pushes the fabric up. Not roughly. Methodically. Like he's unwrapping something he's been patient about for far too long.

"We can't—" You try to twist away, but his weight keeps you pinned. "This isn't—"

"It is."

Two words. Certain as gravity.

His mouth finds your throat again, and this time there's no pretense of checking on you, no professional distance. He's marking you. Claiming you. His teeth graze your scent gland and your whole body arches involuntarily.

The sound you make is mortifying.

"That's it," he murmurs against your skin. "Stop thinking."

His hand slides lower, and you feel his fingers hook into your waistband.

"No—wait—" The protest is weak even to your own ears.

"You're not saying no." His voice is dark. Knowing. "Your body is saying yes."

And he's right.

You hate that he's right.

Your hips have tilted toward his touch. Your breathing has gone shallow and quick. The wine has made everything feel distant and immediate at once, and you can't quite make your body obey your mind.

Can't quite make yourself want him to stop.

His fingers slip beneath the fabric, and the first touch against your slick heat makes you gasp.

"Already wet," he observes. Not surprised. Satisfied.

"That's not—I don't—"

"Shh."

His fingers move with the same deliberate precision he does everything. Circling. Pressing. Finding exactly where you're most sensitive with devastating accuracy.

Your back arches off the bed.

"Please—"

"Please what?" His thumb finds your clit, and the pressure is perfect, maddening. "Please stop? Or please don't?"

You can't answer.

Can't think.

"please don't"

The wine and his touch have turned your thoughts to static, and all you can do is feel, his weight, his heat, his fingers working you with methodical intent.

"I've been patient," Nanami says quietly. "So patient. Watching you. Waiting for you to understand."

His fingers slide inside you, and the stretch makes you whimper.

"But you never did." He curls them, finding that spot that makes your vision blur. "So I'll make you understand now."

"I can't—this is—"

"Mine." The word is final. Possessive. "You're mine. You've always been mine."

His thumb presses harder against your clit, his fingers moving faster, and you feel the pressure building low in your belly inevitable, overwhelming.

"Say it," he commands.

You shake your head, even as your body tightens around his fingers.

"cum, and be my Good girl."

The praise shouldn't affect you like it does.

Shouldn't make you clench around his fingers, shouldn't make heat flood through you, shouldn't make you want—

But it does.

His fingers drive deeper, his thumb circling with relentless precision, and you feel yourself coming apart under his touch. Not gently. Not slowly.

Completely.

The orgasm hits you like a wave, and you cry out—his name, a plea, you're not sure—as your body convulses around his fingers.

He doesn't stop.

Doesn't slow.

Works you through it with the same methodical intensity, drawing out every tremor, every aftershock, until you're shaking and oversensitive and completely undone.

Only then does he withdraw his hand.

You lie there, gasping, your mind foggy and your body boneless.

Nanami shifts above you, and you feel him removing his belt. The sound of the buckle is loud in the quiet room.

"Wait—" Your voice is weak. Slurred. "I can't—"

"You can." He positions himself between your thighs, and you feel the blunt pressure of him against your entrance. "And you will."

"Please—"

"I know." His hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek with unexpected gentleness. "I know you're scared. I know you don't understand."

He pushes forward, slow and inexorable, and the stretch is overwhelming.

"But you will," he promises. "By morning, you'll understand exactly what you are to me."

He sinks deeper, and your body accepts him too easily, too perfectly like you were made for this.

Made for him.

"Mine," he murmurs again, and this time it sounds like a vow.

[violettesorrows]

Where Flowers Bloom: Part One

Description: (Yandere! Ancient Chinese Empress x Concubine! Reader) You are the newest addition to His Majesty the Emperor's vast and ever-growing harem. And despite your best efforts to avoid all the drama, the palace intrigue still finds a way into your life. (6.2K words)

Warnings: overall yandere themes, power imbalance, prolonged physical punishment (kneeling), reader gets bullied and physically abused (slapped), mentions of death (not reader), depictions of body, reader has it a little rough, but she gets her lick back lowkey

Your marriage was a purely transactional affair. You came from a humble family of scholars that currently had the Emperor's favor. Your status allowed you to marry intoImperial harem with a decent title, but it wasn't grand enough to make anyone really care.

You had stepped foot in the palace in your wedding robe, the grim look on your face hidden by your opaque red veil. Honestly, with the lack of dancing and overall celebration, your wedding procession felt more like a funeral.

You were dropped off rather unceremoniously into the palace, your new home. You peaked underneath your veil to catch a glimpse of the place you'd live in for the rest of your days. With its high walls and guards patrolling every corner, the place felt more like a prison than a palace. Still, you supposed there were worse fates than being married to the most powerful man in the country.

Your veil blocking your view, you were guided by hands with faces unknown. They were most definitely servants of the palace, your new assigned attendants. While some concubines were able to bring their childhood ladies in waiting with them, you were afforded no such luxury. 

Up until recently, your family had been too poor to afford servants. Which meant you did all the menial chores and housework while your brother struggled to earn a few copper coins on the street. You wondered if you'd ever get used to having people serving you after a life of grueling work. You wondered if you'd ever become accustomed to the luxury of the palace after living in abject poverty. Probably not, but who were you to complain?

The palace attendants dutifully guided you to your new courtyard and room, sitting you down on your new bed with measured care. With the veil on you could only really see your feet, but you could still catch glimpses of the room. 

The servants hadn't even bothered to decorate the place. You stared at the dark blue comforter. They hadn't even bothered to switch it to a red one despite knowing it was your wedding. You guessed they knew that the Emperor wouldn't bother seeing his new bride, and so they didn't bother with any of the usual formalities.

Still, customs were customs. So you sat there waiting patiently for the groom you've never once met. You sat for hours upon hours, watching the sun gradually set  through the corners of your opaque veil. Finally, your maid, Li Hua, as you've recently learned, spoke up. 

“It seems His Majesty is busy tonight. I think your ladyship would not be scolded for going to bed a little early,” Li Hua said politely. That's fine. You weren't arrogant enough to expect the Emperor's attention, let alone a fairytale wedding.

With an exasperated sigh, you tore off your own wedding veil. You were breaking an age-old tradition, but who cares?  It's not like your groom was there to take it off for you. You were glad to finally take it off, you felt as if you could finally breathe. Now you could take in your new room and subsequently your new life in full. 

As far as palace accommodations went, you shortly didn't draw the short end of the stick. You had your own room that was fairly sizable and fully furnished. Although other consorts and concubines might have complained about its simplicity, this was far more than you ever expected. All in all, you were satisfied. No, more than that, you were happy. It looked like a quaint little place to live quietly.

That night you went to bed early, knowing you had to get up before dawn the next day to greet the Empress. You dozed off dreaming of  lower walls. 

---

The next morning, you woke before the crack of dawn to greet the Empress. As a newly appointed Imperial Concubine in his Majesty's harem, you dared not shirk this responsibility. The last thing you wanted was to be branded as another arrogant mistress. Or to draw undue attention to yourself. 

You spent the morning scrambling through your wardrobe for something elegant but plain. You were terrified of being underdressed but at the same time feared potentially insulting the Empress if you showed up in your finest. 

 Dressed in the least offensive clothing you could find, you went to Her Majesty's courtyard just after the sun settled in the sky. Her courtyard was filled to the brim with white chrysanthemums. An odd choice of flower for an Empress, but you supposed no one dared to comment on it. 

While entering her Majesty's palace residence, you kept your eyes down. Your head was slightly bowed as you entered, your maid in tow. You took note of the other ladies of the palace seated in the room. It looks like her Majesty was having an early morning tea party.

 Without looking up, you took a few steps closer to Her Majesty. Once you were but a few feet away from her, you bowed as elegantly as you could while sitting on your knees. 

“This Imperial Consort greets Your Majesty the Empress,” you said, as if reciting lines from a play. You dare meet her gaze.  Your knees ached against the hardwood floor as you waited on baited breath for Her Majesty to acknowledge you.

After what felt like eternity, the Empress finally deigned to spare your knees. 

“No need for formalities. Please, rise.”

You were happy not to have to kneel for much longer, but you knew better than to let your guard down so soon. Slowly, you raised your head from its bow. As you were about to rise from your knees, you paused. 

You had never seen the Empress before. Sure you've seen plenty of portraits of her. Now, finally face to face with Empress Yujing, you could say that none of them have done her any justice. 

All of her portraits painted her as soft and matronly. In reality, that couldn't be farther from the truth. You could only compare her to a blade glimmering in candlelight before a strike. Or perhaps a long necked heron moments before snapping the neck of its prey. 

Her long, dark hair was pinned elaborately in place, adorned by fine silver and pearl ornaments. Her robes were made of the finest silk, with careful silver embroidery. Her earrings alone could have bought your brother a brand new calligraphy set. You couldn't help but stare for a moment to take in such a rare beauty draped in decadence.

At the sight of staring, the Empress’ red painted lips pulled into a smile. 

A sharp cleverness lingered in her pitch black eyes, one that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You realized she was watching you. Waiting.

You stood, straightening your back completely. Making sure your eyes were glued to the ground, you put on the most polite smile you could muster. Empress Yujing seemed like the discerning type, one you definitely did not want to offend.

“Most bring me a gift when they first come to pay their respects.” The Empress said with a slight lilt to her voice. Every word she spoke sounded as if she were reciting some forgotten poem. “I wonder, what have you brought, Little Concubine?”

You blanched. Your family was all but inconsequential until recently, so you weren't caught up on the proper etiquette. You had no idea that you had to bring a gift for Her Majesty. Her eyes leered at you expectantly as she hid her obvious smile behind the sleeves of her formal dress. 

All eyes in the room were on you. You could hear some of the other concubines and consorts poorly hide their own chuckles and smirks. In Her Majesty's serving parlor, their judgment upon you was a tangible weight upon your shoulders. 

Your mouth worked quicker than your mind could process.

“I did not bring a gift for your Majesty,” you confessed honestly. The onlooking consorts either feigned offense or outright laughed at your misfortune. None extended their sympathy to you. You hid your own emotions behind a wall of polite indifference. “If your Majesty will allow it, I have something else to offer you.”

By the grace of the heavens or by sheer boredom, Her Majesty nodded, granting you permission to continue. 

You extended your hands out to her in thanks, as if worshipping a deity. You supposed you were, in a sense. If The Emperor was chosen by the heavens, why couldn't his wife be as well?

“Your Majesty,” you began. “ This Concubine was born to a family of scholars, but I do not have the same gift with words as my brother. This Concubine is of humble origins, so I have nothing worthy to give you.” You inhaled deeply, readying yourself for whatever was to come for your next words. “All I can offer is my most sincere loyalty to you.”

You bowed again, this time fully prostrating yourself. Your forehead touched the ground. A beat of silence passed.

 A chill crept over your exposed neck. You wondered if a blade hung there, waiting to execute you. If the Empress would accept your humble gift or would plot your death where you stood. Knowing some of the rumors that surrounded her-- perhaps both. 

“Loyalty?” The Empress said aloud, as if pondering the meaning of the word. You could hear the slight surprise in her voice. Perhaps no one has ever offered her such a thing before? 

“Very well.” She said plainly. You could almost cry in relief. “I accept your gift.”

“Really?!” You raised your head a little too quickly, almost beaming. The smile on your face was genuine, but this was neither the time nor the place. You corrected yourself immediately, closing your lips. “This humble servant offers her most sincere gratitude to Your Majesty.”

Your Majesty seemed to smile back at you. Maybe you had misjudged her. Maybe she was more than the cold exterior she gave off. 

A slow sip of a tea cup you hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

“Of course, someone loyal would kneel in a courtyard to demonstrate their devotion. Perhaps for hours?”

Her voice shattered any illusion of her kindness. Of course it would never be that easy.

“Yes,” Her Majesty said, clearly speaking to herself. “I think kneeling for three hours is an appropriate display of loyalty. Don't you, Mei-mei?” 

Biting back a nasty expression as well as an even nastier comment, you extended another curt bow. While the Empress phrased it like a suggestion, you really didn't have a choice in the matter. If the Mother of the nation wished for it, you could only comply. You willed your expression into neutrality. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

---

Three hours later and your knees were killing you. It was bad enough that almost  every person who passed you- regardless of their rank- sneered at you. The only person who stood by you solemnly was your maid Li Hua. When she tried to kneel alongside you, you insisted she shouldn't suffer from your mistake. By the time your punishment had passed, the sun was already starting to set. 

You stood, your legs shaking like a newborn doe. Your knees were probably bruised like hell, but you had lost all feelings in your leg by hour two. Li Hua helped you stand, letting you use her as support as your legs trembled uncontrollably.

 It was a genuine struggle to get back to your room, but what a relief it was to collapse into your bed. 

“I think the Empress hates me,” you quietly confessed to your maid.

“Don't say that!” Li Hua hurried to correct you. Her eyes darted around nervously. “Someone might overhear you!”

“Let them. I think Her Majesty has made her dislike of me known to everyone in the palace already.” You groaned, burying your face into your pillow.

 That quiet, unremarkable life you imagined became more and more unattainable by the hour. You've only been here a day, and yet you've already suffered such embarrassment. How on Earth could you ever show your face in the palace now?

“I think Her Majesty and you have just started off on the wrong foot, My Lady. I'm sure you can win her over.” Li Hua started dutifully taking the decorative pins out of your hair, letting the tresses fall on your back.  “I'm sure once Her Majesty gets to know you, her heart will warm to you just like mine did.”

“Thank you, Li Hua.” You gave her a small smile.

She was now gently combing your hair, careful not to pull on any knots or tangles. “Think nothing of it, My Lady. Just have hope. The Empress will come around eventually.”

“I hope so.” You let loose another groan, followed by a sigh. You turned off your stomach and onto your back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.”

“Keep trying, My Lady. Why don't you get some rest? I'll go do some chores.”

Completely exhausted, you nodded. Your eyes were already lulling to sleep. You thanked her weakly as you laid your head down to rest. Not a second later your eyes closed as you drifted off into sleep. This time, you dreamed of home and of a fine horse-hair ink brush meant for your brother.

---

The pain in your knees woke you up. Your eyes opened to the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.  You winced, throwing the covers off you. Li Hua must have tucked you in. Honestly, you weren't sure what you had done in a past life to have found such a genuine person in such an impersonal, cold place.

In the pale light of the moon you could see the ugly purple, red, and yellow bruising littering your legs. You weren’t sure if it hurt more than it looked or vice versa. Either way, you knew you weren't sleeping soundly tonight. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you waited for morning to come.

The Sun couldn't come soon enough. Naturally, Li Hua came to your chamber to attend to you. At the sight of her legs, though, she nearly fainted. She insisted you call the royal physician, a request you vehemently denied. As if any  Imperial physicians would give you the time of day after her Majesty made her contempt for you so clear.

Confined to strict bed rest thanks to Li Hua, you spent the rest of your day idly reading. After a few hours of that, you were bored to tears. Thankfully, your boredom was cut short by a surprise visitor. 

“My Lady,” Li Hua said with a bow. You gently flicked her brow in a teasing manner as punishment. You must have told her ten times already to forego all formalities in private. 

She rubbed her forehead, sticking out her tongue at you before continuing. “Noble Consort Zhao Yanfei is here to visit you.”

At such news, you almost asked Li Hua to repeat herself. Imperial Consort Yanfei far outranked you. In fact the only person in the harem she didn't outrank was the Empress herself. Why on Earth would she dare to visit you? Especially after yesterday's turn of events?

“Let her in, Li Hua.” Regardless of your own personal astonishment, Imperial Consort Yanfei was also on the list of people you dared not offend. “And brew some tea, please.”

Not much later, you entered the receiving room. “This Imperial Concubine greets the Imperial Consort.” You moved to bow despite the pain in your knees. 

“No need,” the Imperial Consort said. “Please, sit. I'm sure you're in enough pain as it is.”

You schooled your face into a passive expression, despite her biting remarks. Has Yangfei only come to proverbially rub salt in your wound?

Still, etiquette and status demanded you not to offend her.  You sat at the table, and Li Hua came to place a steaming cup of tea in front of the both of you. You took the moment to steal a glance at Consort Yanfei.

She was beautiful in the traditional sense. Yanfei was all soft curves and features, paired with a voice smoother than satin. The spitting image of a wife and mother.  You could easily see why His Majesty favored her. No wonder she had already given birth to  a little prince and princess.

A pregnant pause filled the room as you waited for her to break the silence. 

“Ah, Mei-mei? I can call you that, right?” Yangfei finally broke the awkward silence “I heard about what happened yesterday. I feel terrible about it and wanted to extend my sympathies to you.”

You took a long sip of your tea, hoping to hide your skepticism. While you might have been new here, you weren't naive. Nothing in this palace was ever that simple. If she truly felt that way, why hadn't she advocated for you?

“I promise I'm not just saying these things to you.” Consort Yanfei reached over the table to place her hands over hers. “You remind me so much of my younger sister. Whenever I look at you, I can't help but feel great affection for you.”

The Consort looked at her maid, who wordlessly sat down a jar on the table. “This is for you. It's a medicine made with ginseng. It'll help the swelling and reduce scarring.” Consort Yanfei smiled warmly at you. Something about the tenderness in her large, warm brown eyes made you yearn from your family.

“Thank you for your concern, Imperial Consort,” you said noncommittally. Last time you believed in the kindness of someone's heart, you ended up kneeling for three hours. You wouldn't make the same mistake again. So you let her speak as you took another long sip of your tea.

Zhao Yanfei squeezed your hands reassuringly. She gave care in the strange maternal way that was so unfamiliar to you. “Mei-mei, this might be too forward but… I'm sure you heard the rumors.” Yanfei leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. You assumed she was speaking the rumors going around that Empress Yujing was barren. “You seem smart, Mei-mei. Careful. I like that.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Tell me, what do you think? Do you think the Emperor favors women who are warm and gentle? Or does he prefer those who are cold and indifferent? I wonder what kind of woman would be best at his side.”

Your eyes went wide. Although she didn't say it outright, you understood perfectly what she was implying. Consort Yanfei wanted to become the next Empress and she was asking you to pick sides.

You saw Yanfei in a new light. So she wasn't all motherly warmth after all. She had to be at least a little cold to come to you now. Any person who went through what you did would reasonably hate the Empress. You currently were at your most vulnerable. Nearly anybody  with a semblance of intelligence would jump at the opportunity to make friends with a powerful ally, the only person with the means to actually be a threat to Her Majesty. Not you, though. 

You pulled her hands away from her as if she were on fire. “Apologies, Imperial Consort. I fear this Concubine cannot afford your sisterhood. I am only interested in a quiet, simple life, unbothered by the world.” You stood with some difficulty, your maid coming to help you. You refused to involve yourself with palace intrigue.

“And someone as humble as I cannot accept such an expensive gift made with such precious medicine. Please use it on yourself, Imperial Consort Zhao.”

With some help from Li Hua, you managed a courteous bow. “Thank you for your kind visit. Li Hua, please see the Imperial Consort out. I'm afraid I'm not feeling well.”

Under the mask of Zhao Yanfei's kindness and care, you could see the rage that boiled just below the surface. She was clearly annoyed. Ostensibly because you, a lowly concubine, had the gall to deny her. She picked up the jar of medicine set on the table. “I see, Imperial Concubine. Farewell.”

She left without another word.

You let your shoulders sag as soon as the coast was clear. You sighed exasperatedly. It was only your second day here, how have you managed to make not one, but two powerful enemies already?

---

The next few days were relatively peaceful. You did in fact break your strict bed rest, unable to sit still for long without being bored to tears. Despite her insistence of otherwise, you and Li Hua took turns during various chores around your courtyard. Unfortunately, your moving around most definitely slowed the healing process, but it's not like you cared. It'll heal eventually. 

About a week later, Li Hua rushed to you with a seemingly random invitation to the Empress’ palace. You obeyed, of course, but couldn't stop yourself from dragging your feet along the way. What was this summons even about? Did Her Majesty wish to bully you around even more?

This time you met her in her courtyard, surrounded by blooming white chrysanthemums. 

You felt severe deja vu as you bowed to greet the Empress once again. “This Imperial Concubine extends her greetings to Her Majesty.” 

“No need. Please, sit. Have some tea.” The Empress gestured to the padded wooden seat next to her. 

You hid your disdainful expressionless behind your billowing sleeves. Your recent experience has shown you that people are only kind in the palace for two reasons.  One: they want a favor. Two: they want to smile as they twist the knife in your back. But seeing as you had no right to refuse, you sat beside her. 

A maid handed you a steaming cup of jasmine tea. Not wanting to be impolite, you idly sipped it.

“You must hate me.” Empress Yujing said suddenly. You almost spit out the tea you were drinking. How could her Majesty be so blunt?

Did your face give it away? That was not good. You really didn't want to be punished again. Panicked, you scrambled to think of a lie to placate her.  “Your Majesty-” you started, only to be rudely cut off.

The Empress held up a delicate hand, stopping your words with just a gesture. “Your face says it plainly. You're a terrible liar.” Her Majesty only looked amused at the expression painted on her face. “Still, I find it puzzling. Why would a little concubine like yourself, who hates me, not join hands with Consort Yanfei?”

“How did you-?”

“I'm the Empress. Do you think I do not know what transpires in my own home?”

Ah, right. Empress Yujing probably had spies at every corner in the palace. No place was safe from her watchful eyes. You honestly felt stupid for even asking.

“Now, answer the question.” The Empress tapped a single painted nail against the fragile porcelain of her tea cup. You wondered if that clinking was a small sign of her impatience.

Not wanting to test her patience, any further, you answered without thinking. “Well, I swore my loyalty to you, did I not?”

Empress Yujing only smiled, and for the first time, the gesture didn't seem hollow. “Loyalty?” A light glimmered in her dark eyes in mild amusement. “What a funny word to use in this Imperial harem.”

You were getting tired of Her Majesty saying things you didn't quite understand, so your gaze wandered to the plate of pastries in front of her. 

“Well, I suppose virtue must be rewarded. Tell me, what would you like? Some medicine for your knees? Jewelry? Gold? Take your pick.”

“Respectfully, Your Majesty, loyalty can't be bought.” Your eyes flickered back to the baked goods. “...But if I might be so bold, most people give treats to people they like.”

Her Majesty laughed out loud at that. Her laughter was more carefree than you imagined. Although you never imagined you'd ever hear her laughter in the first place, she seemed entirely too high strung. “Oh really? Very well. I bestow this plate of flower cakes upon you as a reward.”

She gestured to one of her ladies in waiting. Her maid handed you the plate of confectionaries before scurrying back off from whence she came. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” you said. You stood up to bow rather clumsily thanks to your knee. 

“You are dismissed.” The Empress turned her attention back to her tea, turning the cup carefully in her hands. You tried not to be offended at the fact she treated you only like you were some form of fleeting, discardable entertainment. Like she'd had her fill of you and was now tossing you aside.

You bit your tongue as Li Hua helped you leave her garden. You reminded yourself that she was Empress Yujing of the esteemed Wei clan, the wife of the emperor, and you were a simple concubine from a nearly no-name family. There was a line between you, one you would be sure  never to cross.

Just as you were about to step foot out of the courtyard, the Empress called to you.

“Oh, and little concubine? Please come visit more often. I've heard that viewing flowers is best in pairs.”

Now that your back was turned and your face was out of sight, you could roll your eyes freely. Like you would ever be so bold as to just show up at the Empress’ palace uninvited. 

---

For the next two days, you didn't hear a word from Her Majesty. On the third day, a maid from the Empress’ palace had dropped by and delivered some medicine for your knee. The maid had said that the Empress was giving this to you because she found the look of limping puppies unsightly. 

You accepted the gift, not daring to give the Empress another excuse to punish you. Still against your best interest, you told the maid to deliver a message to her Majesty: if you'd  known she held such a high standard for strays, you would’ve limped with more grace. 

The maid came back with a letter, presumably from the Empress.

The letter contained only a short sentence written in dignified calligraphy:

“Limping, loyal dogs still visit their Master.”

The maid then gave instructions that Her Majesty insisted you frame her message on the wall and reflect on its meaning for the next three days. In other words, you were grounded.

It took everything in you not to disobey her orders, crumpled up her letter, and threw it in the trash. You knew if you did she would only think of another way to get under your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Empress was taking some sort of sick pleasure in tormenting you. 

After your brief period in isolation, you were eager to be out of your room again. Little did you know, the Empress had already made plans for you. Under her strict orders, you were to visit her courtyard for tea every day.

Every bone in your body told you not to visit the Empress for any reason. Even merely mentioning her name seemed to invite trouble on your end. Going would undoubtedly spell another punishment, but refusing the Empress’ mandate, no matter how petty the order might seem, would be treason. So, with your tail tucked between your legs, you begrudgingly went to the Empress’ palace. Alone.

--

The Empress’ back was turned to you. She was currently tending to her garden. And in the golden light of the afternoon, you couldn’t help but admire her noble bearing. Begrudgingly you had to admit that she was achingly beautiful, even when doing the most mundane of tasks.

“Are you just going to stand there?” The Empress finally spoke. Her words interrupted the sound of scissors snipping away at the bush of flowers before her. 

You snapped back into reality. For a moment, you had let yourself become so distracted by her good looks, you had forgotten basic etiquette. You bowed and greeted her as protocol demands.

The Empress waved her hand, acknowledging your greeting dismissively.

“Little Concubine,” she began. She cut off the head of a blooming chrysanthemum. Your heart broke a little at the sight of a flower cut down in its prime. “I have a gift for you.”

In an instant, she closed the distance between you. She was so close you could smell the incense she must burn in her room. The Empress tenderly tucked the white blossom in your hair.

She then withdrew as if nothing happened.

You blinked. Your hand absent-mindedly went to the flower now adorning your hair, as if to make sure it was really there. 

“Consider it a token of my favor."

“I thought you hated me,” You blurted. You immediately bit your tongue, realizing your mistake. 

“My little concubine, who could ever hate you?”

---

You left the Empress’ palace that day lost in a menagerie of thoughts. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't seem to understand her. Every time you thought you could predict her next move, she would do something completely off the wall. It was driving you insane.

Lost in the daze of your thoughts, you didn't realize someone was walking your way until you tripped. You fell plain on your rear end onto stone. That would certainly hurt tomorrow.

“How dare you bump into my Lady, the esteemed Imperial Consort?” A servant barked at you. 

You scrambled to stand and offer your apologies as quickly as possible. A knee-jerk reaction. “Imperial Consort Yanfei, please ease your anger-”

Her maid quickly cut you off. “My Lady is pregnant! Could you bear the responsibility if she or her unborn child were harmed?”

You didn’t dare raise your head or so much as look at her. All you could do was repeat the same few apologies, like an actor going over his lines. 

All the while, the maid kept barking at you endlessly. She didn't stop until her mistress stepped in.

“That's enough, Shu'er.” The Imperial Consort said, placing a comforting hand on her maid's shoulder. A neutral but amicable expression was painted on her face. “I am unharmed. And I am sure the Imperial Concubine meant nothing… by…it.”

Her words trailed off as she stared at you. It took you a moment to realize where she was staring. The white chrysanthemum in your hair. 

The immediate shift in her expression was tangible. Her kind voice turned unfeeling. Suddenly, she placed a hand over her stomach. “Oh, my poor baby. “

Your blood ran cold. It became apparent to you that you were in deep, deep trouble. You fell to your knees preemptively, already knowing where this was heading. 

You stopped all your apologies, knowing it would only fall on deaf ears now.

“Shu'er.” Her eyes, once an inviting brown, were now devoid of all life. “Strike the Imperial Concubine.”

Yangfei's maid struck you across the face. The blow was hard enough that her nails drew blood. 

“Again.”

You braced yourself for the second strike, and somehow this one was worse than the first.

“Again.”

Even in your pain, you couldn’t entirely blame her for venting her frustration out on you. You had more or less said you would remain impartial. Yet here you are, wearing an obvious sign of  her sworn enemy as an accessory. 

“Keep going until I say stop.” 

Your lip split a bit, a thin line of crimson running down your chin.  Your face was starting to swell.

Yanfei curled her nose in disgust, placing a silk handkerchief over her nose. The other concubines would only stop to stare and whisper. All the servants passing by, minded their business. Nobody did anything to stop the Imperial Consort. Nor could they. She ranked far higher than you, and therefore had the right to discipline you as she pleased.

It was your mistake. You should have watched where you were going.

“Stop.” The Consort finally said. And the slapping ceased. 

Yanfei took measured steps toward you. She knelt to where she was nearly eye-level with you. “Please don't blame me, Mei-mei, I was only protecting the imperial offspring. If I didn't punish you severely, you might have been charged with conspiracy and treason.”

You kept your scoff of disbelief to yourself. As if you would believe her honeyed words anymore.

“Oh, Mei-mei, you seem to have a weed in your hair. Let me remove it for you.” She plucked the white flower clean out of your hair, letting it fall to the ground. “Such a tacky thing isn't befitting of your status.”

And then she dug her heel into the blossom, smothering it into the stone ground. You didn’t think after such abject humiliation your heart could break any further, but it did. 

“Forget it.” 

And she strolled away casually, taking her entourage of maids with her, leaving you to lick your wounds.

---

Consort Yanfei's body was found the next morning. The entire palace was in mourning as her status demanded. 

Dressed in simple cotton mourning clothes, all the women of the Imperial harem had to pay respects to the late Consort. You included.

Your face still battered and bruised, you wore a veil so as to not make the other palace ladies uncomfortable. Still it did nothing to stop the pitiful looks and hushed whispers that followed you. No one thought you’d have the guts to show your defeated face. But you had to come. You had to see Consort Yanfei with your own two eyes. 

 The open coffin stood amongst a sea of offerings, lit candles, and incense.  You approached Consort Yanfei's body, head bowed. The official story had been that she had passed due to complications with her pregnancy.

A believable story, surely. Being pregnant and giving birth was risky and often lethal business. But one look at Consort Yanfei and you knew that it was all a lie.

It wasn't her body that gave the secret of her death away. She looked untouched, her hair and makeup meticulously done. No, not a hair on her head was disheveled or a thing out of place. Everything was pristine in her death as Consort Yanfei had been rumored to be in life.

The only thing that seemed off, that wasn’t quite as it seems was the chrysanthemum laid so delicately on her corpse. A single white flower placed right where her unborn child should be.

[glubglubgurgle]

shiny paperclips

xaviermc fic where you have a crush on a faceless gaming streamer and then you meet your neighbor/new coworker who is suspiciously similar to the streamer

pairings: xavier/unnamed fem reader (you)

tags: eventual shameless smut, gamer!xavier, office au, jealous xavier, CHARLIE MENTION!, making out in the office, kissing in the supply closet, desk sex, voyeurish if u squint, a LITTLE bit of dry humping, rubbing it in a car 🤤

word count: 20.1k

a/n: me when i'm two months late 😓i have TWO (2) j*bs rn and i'm still in my thesis era so 😣 pls forgive me mwah. also this was supposed to be a one-shot for the FIRST PART OF OFFICE AU but i got carried away. i posted it as three parts on ao3 but i waited to post it all at once here. pls enjoy!!! i'm a little rusty 😣😣

pings: @rubyluna09 @kittyf4ngg @mystides @dummiebunny @applecaviar @safeinyourheart @mcdepressed290 @spring214 @unfriendlypigeon @schnittled @youkoden @rtmissx @pixiu-palindrome @beaconsxd @st4rlight707 @mysterios-hoe @auroranavi @lycheegirl222

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

You were always on the verge of falling asleep on the train ride to work. It was the same view every day and it started blurring into the same boring grays and blues. The only pops of colors would be the large advertisements on the digital billboard littered throughout the city. You had gotten your dream job after university, and landed the perfect position at the best company and yet your days had begun to blur together. It was rewarding work at times, but most of the time it was the most boring thing ever. Your coworkers were nice, but it was hard to connect with them on top of all your paperwork. You weren’t too good at multitasking so it was hard to hold a conversation. And you usually worked through lunch as well, which is one of the reasons why you climbed up the ladder so quickly. 

But the drive was slowly wearing off. You went out with friends once every two weeks, and your idea of a fun day off was staying in all day to play the video games you had begun to neglect once you started a 9-5. 

When you were unable to play, you’d watch other people play for fun. You actually had a favorite streamer whom you would indulge in on the dull train rides to work. He often streamed at oddball times, which usually lined up with your schedule to go to work. You even began to envy the faceless streamer for being able to wake up at 8am (assuming he had been asleep) and play your favorite games. 

His name online was lumiere. The stream was very starry in theme and he was one of those faceless streamers who mainly played the same game you enjoyed: Legends of League.. The camera had only shown his hands as he played, fully aimed at the keyboard and mouse.

It was a little embarrassing for you because you bought the exact same set just because of him. It was a cute white and purple keyboard with little yellow stars littered throughout the buttons, with a matching mouse. 

You felt extremely parasocial, but you couldn’t help it. Even without his face showing, he had an attractive voice and you were a firm believer that pretty hands meant an equally pretty face. You knew he took care of himself well enough for his nails to be healthy and clean and his fingers moisturized and nice. You were very observant, to the point that you found yourself to be a little creepy, even. 

And it wasn’t just his hands and voice. Lumiere was extremely your type when it came to hobbies, conversations, and humor. It had gotten to the point of reading fanfics on AO3 and Tumblr of other people imagining how it would be to be with him. Which, as you thought about, seemed a bit too much for someone who actually existed.

This interest of yours was very much your own little secret. Your fansites were under pseudonyms and you never peeped a word about him at work or with your friends. You wanted to say you weren’t ashamed, but you were very much so. It just felt a little too silly for you to have a crush on a man whose name you don’t even know and a face you had never even seen.

And yet, the fascination continued. 

The humming of the train bled through your earphones as you watched Lumiere play the same video game that had taken over lots of sleepless nights. He was a really good player. And although other streamers have been known to be really aggressive and even rage over the game, Lumiere was extremely calm. Even in ranked games, he acted as if it truly was just a game. That was extremely important to you.

starlight: can you play adc? id luv to learn from you!

You chatted into his stream, wanting to see him play a role you were bad at. It was something you often did and although sometimes you were drowned out by the chat, he would reply to you the rest of the time. Hearing your username being said by him made you feel something embarrassing. You sometimes wished you added your actual name. 

“Thanks for coming back, starlight. I’ll play adc for you…shouldn’t you be at work though?” A small chuckle boomed softly through the mic. 

You heard yourself hiccup. He was good at remembering small things and the fact that he remembered your schedule was making you shiver in your seat on the train. It even almost made you miss your stop.

Your eyes were glued to your phone as you made your way through the crowd of other office workers trying to get to work. You’ve taken the path to the building hundreds of times so you were confident that 80% of your attention could stick to Lumiere.

starlight: yes…but i’ll be bored without you !

starlight: without watching you, i mean !!  jdfskjfweo

Another small chuckle. You were sure that if you looked at your reflection on a building window, you’d be greeted by a tomato. Your cheeks felt hot and your heart was fluttering. It was hard to feel embarrassed with all the emotions soaring through your veins. 

It would have been embarrassing to say out loud, but your infatuation ran deep. You recalled a dream you had a few nights before as you watched his fingers move across the keyboard. Even with his face blurred out and unrecognizable, since you didn’t know what he looked like, you couldn’t help but feel the heat in between your legs as you had flashbacks. 

The thoughts of his fingers roaming on every inch of your skin made you shiver as your eyes watched every movement on his stream. Your thighs squeezed against each other as indecent thoughts filled your brain. You may have had the biggest crush on a faceless streamer, but you were free.

—

At least you thought you were free.

Work was hectic as always. Your head was buried in stacks of paperwork and you couldn’t even pay attention to Lumiere doing exactly what you had asked him to. You even heard him call you out.

“Starlight doesn’t seem to be in the chat anymore…maybe she got busy. Just in case she’s listening, let’s play another ADC game.” He said, humming to himself. “This might be the last morning stream…I think I’ll have to switch the schedule to nighttime streams soon.” Your ears perked enough to pay attention since your schedule was going to change along with his. “Unfortunately…I have been employed. I should become a part of the working society since I didn’t get three degrees for nothing, right guys?” He laughed. “Nothing wrong with playing games all day! I just want to explore other areas for the meantime. Don’t be mad…please?”

The way he said everything made you melt. It was extremely hard to be upset, but you were going to miss the live streams.

It just didn’t help with your infatuation for the faceless man. Three degrees meant he was smart and education motivated. It was attractive. And the fact that he could definitely be well-off as-is by being a streamer since he was so popular, and yet he chooses to work normally. It felt so mature. 

Your daydream was interrupted by your name being called to the meeting room. 

The usual monthly meeting was as boring as the last one. Right until the last minute. Until your bosses announced the least boring news.

“We’re going to have a new employee starting tomorrow, so please welcome him warmly. They used to work in a similar position before so he’ll just need a refresher.” Your boss pointed the stack of papers towards you, “Are you free to train him? Your big assignment is due by the end of the day today, right?” 

You nodded sheepishly, caught slightly off guard.

“Good, you should be free by tomorrow then. I’ll provide the paperwork on your desk by the morning. Meeting dismissed.” They said before turning on their heels and exiting the room. 

The moment your boss left, the room erupted with hushed whispers. It was all excitement for the newcomer. It had been almost a year since the last new employee so everyone was getting sick of each other. The newcomer was sure to stir the pot. It was almost like when you were back in high school and a transfer student came.

The ladies were most excited knowing that the new guy was a guy. And you would have been lying if you said you weren’t curious either. None of your current coworkers piqued your interests, although you found yourself not really interested in dating anyways. It just didn’t hurt to daydream a little. 

Even at your desk, the whispers of everyone else filled the room. Rumors zipped around about the new employee being a secret millionaire or him being a delinquent that was actually the son of the CEO. All sorts of ideas came to like the dramas you would watch at home. And you started thinking of it too. Chuckling to yourself as you think it would be the heir of the richest man trying to fit in a small white-collared job; wondering if he would be into you instead of every other beauty in the office. You bit your lip to suppress a laugh.

You grew up watching all sorts of Asian dramas that had outlandish, unrealistic plots of a rich man with a poor woman in the type of office space that you worked in now. It made every drama even more unrealistic when you finally landed the job. There weren’t any secret office romances or any flirting with the boss. It was just work. The only good thing that came out of it was good pay and a fun lunch downstairs. 

—

You ended up arriving home a lot later than you thought. The big assignment your boss had mentioned ended up taking a lot longer due to issues on other people’s ends. You were just happy to be done by the time you hit submit. 

Your feet were being dragged through the road as you took yourself home from the train station. The bag on your shoulder felt heavier than it did earlier, and you were just excited to hop into the shower. Even when you knew that you had to do everything all over again the next day. 

The apartment that you lived in was comfortable. You had made it your home just a few months after moving in. The only thing you regretted was not being close to any of your neighbors. You had always wanted to make more friends considering it was hard to make them at work and you rarely saw the ones you did have. But it didn’t help that you would leave the house too early and get home too late at times to really interact with your neighbors; not that you really made an effort when you were at home all day. 

You entered your apartment’s bright lobby, an old Lumiere video playing on the one earphone in your ear to dull out the bustling street noises. The marble floors were shiny and made the place look more expensive than it really was. You made your way into the elevator, hitting the floor you lived on and as the doors closed, a hand reached out to stop them. 

The man would have looked suspicious if you didn’t recognize him. The usual white hoodie over a light blue shirt, it was the neighbor who lived right above yours. His hoodie was up over his head with sunglasses on, and after the last year of seeing him with them on at random times, you had stopped questioning it. He gave you an acknowledging nod before standing beside you, pressing the floor above yours. 

The audio to your video seemed to have been acting up and you pulled your phone out to check. Lumiere’s voice had seemingly layered onto itself or glitched. It wasn’t until you felt a poke on your shoulder that you took your earphone off and realized he was talking to you.

Your neighbor looked at you awkwardly and waved. 

His voice…

“Y-yeah? Sorry, did you say something?” You stumbled on your words.

He took his glasses off and showed his blue eyes, almost piercing into you. It was then that you realized that your upstairs neighbor was actually really handsome. His silver hair looked soft and his skin was flawless. He pointed at your badge, “It’s a stupid question now that I’m asking it again, but do you work there? For UNICORNS?”

You didn’t realize that you still had it attached to your shirt, and you were too stunned by his visuals and how he sounded just like Lumiere. You couldn’t even cover the embarrassing photo they took of you on your first day at the job. “I-I do! Yeah!” You rushed to say. 

“What a coincidence. I start my first day tomorrow, I wonder if I’m in your department…” He cocked his head to the side, pondering, before reaching his hand out to you. A pretty hand. “I’m Xavier, by the way.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at yourself with how much you were ogling at him. But you somehow broke out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself. “You have a nice voice, Xavier.” You accidentally blurted out. “Oh. Sorry, sometimes I-” You tried to go back on your words but the elevator dinged. 

Xavier’s smirk grew as you fumbled with your words. Your eyes must have looked helpless since he ended up chuckling and reaching out to hold the elevator doors. “Thank you,” he said along with your name. And the way he said it was unbelievably attractive. “I hope to see you tomorrow.” He gestured for you to get off onto your floor.

“Goodnight.” You mumbled, quickly walking off before stopping a few feet. You turned back around just as the doors were closing and you managed to say, “Good luck!” Just as they closed. His blue eyes still peeked through beforehand.

As you walked into your apartment, you were thinking about how you never noticed how attractive your neighbor was; but you were mainly focused on how his voice sounded like the one you fell asleep to every night. In order to help you sleep at night, you just came to the conclusion that attractive people all sound the same. 

–

As you were about to head out to work in a rush, a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts for the day. You checked the time on your phone and decided to grab everything on your way to answer the door since it was almost time to catch the train.

You opened the door to find your neighbor again. Xavier.

He was dressed in a blue button-up, a striped navy jacket on his arm, with matching dress pants. His thin frames seemed to have accentuated the blue color of his eyes. “Hi…” Xavier said, waving his hand at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“H-hi, Xavier.” You responded, slightly stunned at his appearance. Not only did he look attractive in casual clothes, but it felt as if it was multiplied by a hundred times in his formal wear. Your neck even had to crane up slightly due to the height difference, and you always had a thing for taller guys.

A soft silence played in-between the two of you. Just the two of you looking at each other with curiosity in your eyes.

“I just wanted to uh-” He scratched the back of his neck, looking away, as if he suddenly remembered why he was there. “Did you want a ride to work? Since…we’re both going to the same place anyways…”

You cocked your head to the side, questioning him. “You’re either a saint or someone planning to murder me…” You half-joked.

His smile came back to his face before pulling his phone out and scrolling for a moment. And then he faced it towards you. “This is my onboarding letter, if it helps.”

Welcome to UNICORNS as one of our new Front End Engineers!

Your eyes widened as you read through the letter. “You’re the new person I’m training!” 

His eyes mimicked yours, widening by surprise. And then it was as if he was releasing everything off of his shoulders, clutching at his chest. “Oh I’m so glad.” His smile reached up to his eyes as they wrinkled with joy. “It’s my first office job in a while and…” He looked at you gratefully. “I’m glad it's you…I stayed up all night because I was so nervous.” 

The way he seemingly twinkled in front of you made you stare at him with awe. You wondered if this was really the man you were supposed to spend the rest of the week with, on top of living in the same building as him. It almost felt like you hit the manhwa lottery. “Don’t ease up yet, I could be really strict at work.”

Xavier loosened up his collar and fumbled with his cuff links. “I’d rather have it be my neighbor than a mean older man.” He smiled down at you, straightening himself up. “But throw everything at me today, trust me. I can take it.” 

You were enjoying the small talk between the two of you that you didn’t realize that you had already missed your train. It was odd to you that despite years of being unable to make new friends, you felt that you were able to click with Xavier quickly. “I guess…I’ll take you up on that ride to work.” You bit your lip.

“Cool…it’s, um, good for the environment to carpool.” He stepped aside to let you close your door and walk with him to the elevator. “How long have you been working with UNICORNS?”

You had to think for a moment. “I think it’s been two years and a half. I started out as an associate but was able to become front end pretty quickly.” You turned to him, cocking your head with curiosity. “Did you do front end work beforehand? Normally everyone starts out as an associate.”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked around awkwardly. “Yeah…I did it for another company. I also have a lot of connections that let me skip that route, but I am a hard worker.”

You waved your hands in front of you to dispute any concerns. “I’m not accusing you of anything! I was just curious…I’ll have to see about the ‘hard working’ part though.” You smirked at him to lighten the mood. Although you were a little jealous that he was able to move up quickly, you didn’t really doubt his experience. And if anything, you still ranked up rather fast since this was your first job.

The car ride to work was really nice, compared to the bustling train ride. Xavier owned an extremely beautiful luxury car which he became flustered showing as he noticed your surprised eyes. He had said that it was a dream car of his which he saved up for using the money he made on the side. Which made you more curious about his character since it seemed like the car was worth 10 months of rent.

Your phone pinged right at the usual time when Lumiere would normally stream with a note saying his apologies and that his stream will be at night starting from then on.

You saw Xavier peek over at your phone at the red light and you instantly shut-it, making him chuckle. “Sorry to be nosy, but I didn’t peg you to be someone who watched Legends streams.”

You cleared your throat as you looked out the window, “U-uh…sometimes. I’m not too good at the game so I like seeing people who are.” And then you looked at him. “Don’t say anything at work about it, though…It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Really? I think it makes you…cool.” He smiled. “I play too…maybe we can play sometimes? I promise to keep it a secret.”

You chuckled softly, “Maybe…” Deep down, you were embarrassed. It was quelled only a bit by his assurance, but this was a part of you that you kept hidden. You had grown up thinking that video games were a waste of time, and yet there you were. And now someone knew about it–someone that you didn’t even know at all. You chewed on your lip as you thought way too hard about the implications of it all. 

“Lumiere’s a pretty good player, but personally…I think I’m better than him.” Xavier said, causing you to whip your head towards him.

You realized that your reaction was too reactive and tried to play it off, clearing your throat and pretending to stretch your neck. “Interesting…” You muttered.

He chuckled, “Is he really that good?”

“Well, I don’t know how you play. I just find it hard to believe…” You nodded, attempting to not go full defense-mode.

“Find out, then.” The car hit another red light and he looked over at you. “Play with me tonight.”

“I’m not that good, I think. I don’t play too much.” You responded, flustered. 

“I doubt that. And if anything, I’ll show you how good I am by making up for what you think you lack.” The car started again and when you peered over, he looked proud of himself.

You found yourself smiling too, since you never had anyone to play with before. It was rare to find someone nice in-game and you would always be too shy to queue up with them. “I guess we can play…if you’re good at work and we don’t end up ripping each other’s hair out by the end of the day.”

You were worried about arriving to work together, but everyone had assumed that you met him at the lobby. Surprisingly, no one had seen the two of you from the garage. 

Xavier’s introduction went as you expected. He was so handsome that it caused a lot of wandering eyes. The whispers weren’t as hushed as the people thought, and you could see Xavier’s ears turn red at times. The only hard thing about training him was all the people coming up to introduce themselves. 

Although Xavier was very warm and welcoming to you outside, he was actually rather stoic at work. He exchanged simple greetings to the people who tried to get to know him, but he didn’t show enough interest that people slowly gave up. 

In terms of work, Xavier was excellent. You gave him a rundown of the company itself and daily works, and then you tested him on handling coding issues. And he was so quick at spotting mistakes that even you would take a few minutes to find despite your experience. It made you question how long he had been working in the industry. You thought that it was going to take a whole week to fully train him, but you were rather confident that he would be able to work alone in half that time. 

He was working in the desk across from yours and you couldn’t help but steal glances throughout the day. You could see that everyone had the same idea. The way his eyebrows furrowed together as he filled out his additional onboarding paperwork, and the way his forehead showed whenever he ran his fingers through his hair. It was easy to say that he was the most handsome man on the team. And the other guys knew it. You wondered if it was going to be an issue, but Xavier wasn’t paying attention to anyone.

Xavier then said your name, and despite it being a call for your attention, it seemed to have called the entire table’s attention as well. “Can you tell me what to do with this thing?” He pointed at his screen, making you stand up and move to where he was. As you moved around the table, you could see the people looking at the two of you, pretending to be busy on their own keyboards. You could tell it was nonsensical typing, though. 

He had a little notepad open, and you could see the notes he took of things you taught him. His handwriting was a lot prettier than yours, almost a perfect cursive. As if he had been practicing calligraphy all his life. It wasn’t usual for someone in computer science who spent all their career typing to have beautiful handwriting and yet he did. Xavier asked how to navigate the program that all of you worked on, and as you explained, you saw how his hands rested on his desk. It was hard to ignore how pretty his hands were, but you found yourself chuckling at how his left ring to index fingers rested on the ‘Q’ ‘W’ ‘E’ keys, whilst his right hand held his mouse. It was a clear sign of a Legends player. 

The sound of your laughter left before you could even remember that everyone was watching you, and you tried to cover it up with a cough. You didn’t know how the rest of them took it, but you knew Xavier caught on. 

Under his breath, he asked, “What’s funny…?” His eyes met yours with innocent confusion. You had just realized then that your faces were close to each other and you backed up instantly, looking away as you felt your face warm up. Even up close he was handsome. His silver eyelashes made his blue eyes pop even more and it intimidated you, despite how softly he looked at you. 

“U-uh.” You stammered, before lowering your voice and pointing at his hands. “You just seem to be always ready to play.” You attempted to keep your face straight because you usually felt embarrassed when you noticed yourself in the same position after a night of playing until two in the morning. 

Xavier laughed for the first time in the office. “I guess so.” He looked at you again with his eyes crinkled and you wanted to reciprocate the laughter. Yet people were still watching.

You cleared your throat and pointed back at the screen, continuing to train him. Somewhere inside of you felt excited. It felt as if you actually had a friend, and despite how awkward it felt to have the attention on you, you were excited for work again. 

—

You started packing up after the long day. You had to stay later again to be able to finish a mistake in one of the programs that one of your coworkers had missed. It was hard to say ‘no’ to people due to your fear of being more disliked by others. Although you were sure that no one actually hated you, it was just awkward since no one wanted to really become friends either. So you found yourself stepping up a lot. 

Xavier had gone home earlier, right at 5pm. When he was dismissed by the boss, he looked at you expectantly. As if waiting for you to ask him to wait for you, but you waved him off. You knew that you were going to be there for a longer time. He still seemed hesitant, but he eventually left after pretending to fidget around his desk for a moment. 

You wondered if it was going to be a regular thing of riding with Xavier to work. It did make sense since carpooling is always nice and better for the environment. You just hoped that you two would become closer friends soon so that it would feel more natural. 

As you were about to push your chair in to leave, you saw a ping on your phone. 

lumiere: Sorry I lied! See U guys tomorrow (maybe). I’m still stuck at my j*b…Forgive me…please?

You sighed as you clicked your phone off, but you didn’t think you were going to watch him live that night anyways. Since Xavier had said he wanted to play the game with you. It was a weird thought in your mind, that you were choosing an actual person over your favorite streamer.

You felt like you were growing, just a little bit. 

You walked out of the office and were walking towards the elevator when you saw the familiar silver-haired man, seated at the bench beside it.

“Xavier?” You asked, shocked. 

His head whipped towards you, and you could’ve sworn his ears perked up. He mugged the way you called out to him and said your name back to you. “You’re off now?”

You checked the time on your phone and realized he had been waiting for almost two hours. “Why didn’t you go home?” You fast-walked over to him, confused. 

“We took my car here…I didn’t know how you would get home. And then I realized that I didn’t have your number either. I wanted to ask you for it, but I feel like everyone else would’ve asked for mine too…” He scratched the back of his head. 

“You waited?” You felt sheepish and warm. The effort he expressed was heart-fluttering, and the two of you barely knew each other. It wasn’t that small of a feat either, to not only wait that long, but to respect how the two of you were seen at work.

“It’s really dark out. And although you look strong, I think I’d sleep better if I knew you got home safe. You’re the only friend I’ve made here.” He stood up to press the button for the elevator. “We…are friends, right?”

You blinked. “I-I…I guess, yeah.”

“Cool.” Xavier threw his jacket over one shoulder and shoved his other hand in his pocket. His shoulders looked as if they had relaxed, like he had been holding in that question.

“Cool.” You agreed, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards as you looked on the ground. 

“Friends usually exchange numbers…” You looked back up at Xavier who threw out the thought, but he was avoiding eye contact. You thought your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were pink.

The two of you stepped into the elevator and you pressed on the garage button before holding your hand out. You had meant it as a way to ask for his phone so you could put your contact in, but instead he gave you a low-five.

“Woot.” He said, pleased with himself. And when he met your eyes, the confusion he saw on you made him turn red. “Oh, was that wrong?”

You stifled a laugh. “I wanted your phone so I could give you my number.” 

Xavier looked unsure and patted his back pocket. “I think it’s, um, dead, actually. Can I put mine on your phone instead?”

You dropped your hand and grabbed your own phone instead. You had a hint of suspicion with the way he said it, but you just weren’t sure what he would be hiding. So you let it go to the back of your mind. You opened up the contacts page and he took it from you to add his number. He had saved himself as “xavier 🌟” before handing it back to you.

On the car ride home, he had talked briefly about work, but he didn’t seem to be too interested in it. “We’re playing Legends when we get home, right?”

You nodded, fiddling with your fingers, “What would you do if I was really bad though?”

He shrugged. “I play to have fun, I really wouldn’t care. I’m getting bored of playing alone.” He raked his fingers through his hair, his teeth poking out from a snarky smile. “Don’t tell me you’re a toxic ranked player…” He prodded.

“No! I never want to sweat in a game. It’s actually a turn-off seeing toxicity. But this whole game is toxic…It sucks that it’s fun.” You pouted. It was one of the reasons that you kept your interests a secret. It wasn’t a well-liked game in the community since it was filled with enraged players.

Something about Xavier’s laugh made you feel like you had heard it before. It was comforting with a yearning of wanting to hear it again. You just couldn’t put your finger on the familiarity of it all.

“By the way…a lot of people looked like they wanted to be friends with you today. Are you not that social?” You finally asked, as you were confused about how stoic he was at the office. Before work, he was really talkative with you, and then all of a sudden it was as if he didn’t want all the attention. Although it was something that you really related to. 

He chewed on his lip as he pulled into the garage of your apartment building. “Maybe later on…I’ll make friends. I prefer to focus on work at work, though.”

“I thought we’re friends now?” You cocked your head at him as your hand went to your seatbelt button, ready to get out as he pulled into his spot.

“I meant making other friends. I’m pretty satisfied if this is how the work weeks go.” He beamed at you and it almost looked like the car did get brighter at his smile, but you were sure that you were imagining things. “Do you want me to make other friends?”

“The girls seemed very enthusiastic about being your friend.” You accidentally said out loud. “But I mean, do what you want.”

He looked at you as he turned the car off with a push of a button. And then looked away with a soft chuckle. “You seem pretty work-focused too. I didn’t see you interact much either.”

You rolled your eyes as you climbed out of the car, grabbing your purse from the backseat. “I should at least pay you for gas for taking us to work and back…if this is a regular thing.” You said as you started walking to the elevator.

Xavier’s long legs made it to the buttons before you despite walking first. “It’s electric. And you can pay me back with hot pot every…Friday night.” “If people see us, they’d think we’re dating.” You mindlessly mumbled.

“Are you bothered by that?” The elevator doors opened and he stepped in, pressing the two buttons for both of your floors. “As long as we know what it is, does it matter what other people think?”

“I-I guess not.” You chewed on your lip. “I just don’t want you to be the butt of anything…”

“It’d be an honor to get caught up in drama with you.” He smirked at you. 

The two of you looked at each other, eyes crinkling as you were sure that you finally had a friend. Your heart swelled up just a bit, but you didn’t want to jump on anything yet until you got to know him more. 

But you were attracted to him. One hundred percent.

The doors opened as the two of you still looked at each other. “Call me when you get set up. I’ll play a few games before I sleep.”

“Mm…are you hungry? I can make something for both of us before we play…” You said as you walked out of the elevator, looking over your shoulder to see what he thinks.

“Are you sure I’m not a serial killer yet?” He teased you.

“I’ll have the police on speed-dial in case you do anything.” You motioned him to get out of the elevator to follow you. “It’s the least I can do. And I heard your tummy in the car…don’t think you’re slick.”

“If you say so, m’lady.” He faked a curtsy and got out. 

The two of you walked to your door and you let him in. You felt like you should be a bit more hesitant with letting a man into your house after just a day of knowing him. Although you had seen him around before, it was still fast. There was just such a comforting aura around him, that you were ready to welcome in closer to you. “Are you allergic to anything?”

Dinner went by better than you thought. It was a quick meal, but he was eager to eat. And he had a huge appetite for someone who looked rather slender. The only embarrassing thing was receiving a notification from your Lumiere fan account. 

“Starlight?” He read out loud as he peeked over your shoulder while the two of you ate on the counter. There was surprise in his voice, and you couldn’t pin from what. 

The way he said it, though, sent a shiver down your spine. Only one other person had ever called you by that name out loud, and it just so happened to be someone who sounded just like Xavier. 

Shame would have taken over, but Xavier already knew of your interests. “I made it my name on everything…it kinda fits with Lumiere, don’t you think?” A small smile played on your lips, before you laughed at yourself and shook your head. “This is stupid.”

“What do you like about him?” Xavier asked as he took the bowls from your hands and brought them to your sink to wash them. “I’m not making fun of you, by the way. I just want to learn about you.”

You took a seat on the barstool of the kitchen island, giving you a clear view of him doing the dishes. You played with your hair, slightly exasperated, feeling weird that you’re opening up about your dumb crush. “Uh…I don’t know. I like playing the same games as him. I think he’s funny. I kind of relate to him sometimes…” You were internally beating yourself up because of the way you were talking about this streamer. You straightened up as you just accepted everything. “I learned a lot from watching him play.”

“It’s my turn to see how well you play then.” He turned around as he placed the bowls on the drying rack. There was no hint of judgement on his face. He just seemed happy to be there. “I noticed your keyboard…is it because of him?” He pointed his chin towards your computer set-up.

You put a finger on your chin, as if you were thinking. “I think we both like the same aesthetics…I like stars and purple and stuff…but yeah, I did copy him.” You crinkled your nose.

“I like that aesthetic too.” He grabbed his things by the door. “Thank you for dinner,” he smiled warmly, saying your name softly. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ve grown even more curious to see how you play.” And then he headed out.

The moment the door clicked, you dropped your head onto the breakfast bar counter and cringed. You confided a secret you kept for so long to a man that you just became friends with. And it didn’t help that it was a really attractive man that you just met.

You were just glad that he still wanted to be friends with you, but you were already kissing any hopes of progressing anywhere further with him goodbye. 

“Xavier?” You said as he picked up the phone. 

“Hey, starlight.” He put emphasis on your gamertag, making you cringe even more. And then a soft pang hit your chest. You had drilled Lumiere’s voice into your mind, and over the phone, Xavier sounded even more like him. And then he said your name, shaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you kind of sound like…Lumiere?” You blurted out.

“Oh…is that why you said my voice was nice last night?” You could hear the smirk through the phone. “Now it doesn’t feel as genuine of a compliment. Ow.” You could tell it was sarcastic, making you break into a soft smile of your own. 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my gosh…Just tell me your username.”

“It’s ‘lightseeker #1016’. I’ll be awaiting the friend request from starlight, soon.” You heard the clacking of his keyboard through the receiver.

When you added him, he was a really low-level account. You were double his, but he had sworn he was better than Lumiere. And you knew Lumiere was around the 300s. “You talk big for someone who’s only level 67…” You mumbled, getting comfortable in your chair.

“Maybe I’m a fast learner.” The two of you got into the lobby together to select roles. “Do you have a preference?”

“Um, I usually play support. But I’ve been trying to learn how to play solo better, so I’ve been learning mid lane. It’s a bit harder to play support with randoms.” You looked through your bleak match history, seeing many losses.

“If you go mid, I’ll jungle. And if you go support, I’ll go bot with you. I’m pretty flexible.” He cleared his throat, switching through each role. “You ready?”

The two of you ended up playing more than you should have. And you admitted defeat as you saw that he was, indeed, as good as he said he would be. You tried both roles out, and each time he switched into a role that would be more beneficial for you. Xavier had even given you tips in a way that wasn’t pushy, and on top of that, he was a big praiser. Each ‘nice one’ or ‘good dodge’ sent a chill up your spine. It felt good playing with him. And even when you didn’t do too good, he was motivating and calm. 

“Goodnight, starlight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, yawning.

“You cannot call me that at work.” You laughed, shutting your computer down and heading over to your room with your phone. “But, goodnight Xavier. I had fun.”

“Me too.” And then he hung up.

When you got into your bathroom to brush your teeth, it was hard to wipe the smile off your face. It was as if you had found yourself your own version of Lumiere. And even if he wasn’t, you were just glad you had someone to look forward to seeing again. You were excited to go to work for once. 

—

You had grown accustomed to Xavier’s presence as a routine between the two of you grew. He took the both of you to work, where two of you efficiently worked through the endless amount of codes and tickets, and then he’d drive the two of you back home. You’d always make food at home, unless it was a Friday. You kept your promise of getting hotpot with him, but it became a battle of who would pay. Although it was supposed to be you, as a payback for him driving all the time, he would somehow sneak off to the restroom where he’d take the bill with him. 

On weekends, it seemed to be that he slept in. Which gave you time to do the errands you normally did. You would also visit bakeries as a way to destress. 

Lumiere ended up moving his whole schedule to streaming only on the weekends. You would’ve been more upset if Xavier hadn’t come into your life, since you no longer had time to tune-in to his streams. 

It was a comfortable routine. You had established a good relationship with someone who made things more exciting, and you were still able to get your work done and have proper time for yourself. And since Lumiere wasn’t as active, you felt a little less parasocial and silly. But you still really liked watching him. 

Lumiere chuckled. “Someone in chat just asked if I stopped streaming because I met someone at the office…” He said as he cleaned up a game swiftly. “Is it obvious?”

Your eyes widened as he spoke, almost choking on your tea.

starlight: really!??

Another chuckle. “Starlight. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in chat…” You still weren’t used to the way he’d catch onto you. Everytime you thought you were over the pair of hands on the screen, he easily sneaks back in. “I do like someone, but everyone has to keep it a secret. I think I’d have to quit if it doesn’t go well. Maybe even move out. I’m nervous.” His hands flexed over the keyboard.

starlight: gud luck :3

You shut your phone as you got ready to go home from the cafe. You were surprised. You couldn’t recall him being so open about his life, much less answering a question about romance. There was a pang of jealousy deep inside you, and you couldn’t help it. There was also worry about the people who liked him even more than you did, because you knew that this wouldn’t be received too well with the weird side of his fans. 

The next day was another work week filled with more paperwork and coding. Xavier was no longer the talk of the office, but he was becoming another you. Someone who would take a lot of the tickets that others couldn’t handle. It also meant that the two of you ended up leaving at the same time, way after the designated end time. 

As the two of you were in the break room, making coffee, he nudged you with his shoulder. “I heard people saying that I’m your favorite coworker.” He stirred his coffee, looking proud of himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Please…after you hid in bush last night instead of helping me?” You said, recalling the mistake he made during a game. “Why would they even be talking about us, anyways?”

He shrugged. “I dozed off on accident, it was like a minute…and I think it makes sense. I’d be curious about the person who always has their nose buried in the papers, too.” He took a seat at the same table as you. “And if I’m not your favorite coworker, then who is?”

You pretended to think as you sipped on your hot drink. “Maybe Charlie?”

“The catering baker?” Xavier looked truly puzzled. “He doesn’t even work here…”

“Yeah but he comes by every morning to drop off bread and snacks, so technically he is a team member if you really think about it.” You nodded, looking past him to see if there was anything left in the basket. “He sometimes brings by an extra muffin just for me!”

“So if I bring you two muffins, I’d be your favorite coworker?” He leaned closer to you, narrowing his eyes.

You held your breath as you felt him near you. “Maybe…does that matter to you?”

He sat back on his seat. “Yeah, actually. We spend most of the week together, and I’m still not your favorite?” He clutched at his chest. “You don’t care about me at all…” He pouted.

“Cute.” You muttered under your breath accidentally. And when you realized he heard it, you shot back up from your seat. “I forgot I have to call product management about- um, the program…thing.” You rambled before almost running out of the break room.

You had found yourself slipping up more often than usual. It was hard to contain your feelings as you slowly became more and more infatuated with Xavier. Every single daydream you had about Lumiere was turning into reality, only with Xavier. You had someone to play games with, and someone to laugh with to and from work, and someone who was extremely handsome and dependable. He was the full package for you. And just because of that, you had a hard time hiding it. Each time you slipped up, you were greeted with a warm smile from him, as if he knew, but you never stuck around long enough to let him have a proper reaction.  

He returned to his desk shortly after, meeting your eyes every chance that you looked at him. It was playful. And it brought heat to your cheeks every time. Your phone then buzzed with a text from him.

xavier🌟: Everytime I look at U, ur looking at me

You looked up at him with a confused face and then rolled your eyes before burying your face in your arms. Up until your phone buzzed again, 

xavier🌟: are U going to the dinner with everyone on Friday?

You sat back up and thought about it. You normally skipped them, but you had a feeling that he would skip out on the dinner too. And it shouldn’t be both of you that was socially isolated from the rest. So, as a sacrifice for you thought would be the greater good, you slowly nodded.

xavier🌟: on hotpot night? [Galaxy Kid: Pouting]

Another roll of your eyes.

You: we should be a part of society and attend these things. besides, its ur first one with the team. theyre supposed to all celebrate u or smth

xavier🌟: Id rather just spend time with U

You: we spend time together all the time, arent u getting sick of me

xavier🌟: Ur projecting on me arent U?

xavier🌟: I could never get sick of U.

You couldn’t help but giggle at your phone, earning a glare from the team leader. 

—

Although it was probably obvious that the two of you were friends, you mainly kept to yourself at work. It was more out of habit, but you were still afraid of the lingering attention on the very-handsome Xavier Shen. And he did the same. 

The interactions between the two of you were small and felt almost secretive. Like you were hiding an office relationship, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t excite you. Small brushes of your hands as you walked by him, as you handed him papers, or even as you grabbed coffee in the break room. 

“Sorry for running late…” You muttered in the car, groaning as you rubbed your eyes.

“I recall someone saying ‘I’ll wake up on time, just one more game. We can’t end on a loss!’ last night.” He mocked you, laughing. 

You playfully hit him. “If you played better, we would have gone to sleep on time.” You groaned, resting your head on the seatbelt. “I can’t believe I overslept.”

“Mind you, we’re not even late. We’re actually on time.” He tapped on the display of his car to make the time bigger. “What are you so upset about?”

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Everyone usually arrives around this time.”

“And?” He scoffed. “Are you too embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“N-no!” You huffed out the window, exasperated. “I just…don’t want people to talk badly about us.”

“What would they say?” He asked softly, lowering the music in the car. 

“I don’t know…maybe something about me going after the new guy. What if they’re judgemental?” You pouted, letting your insecurities spill. 

“Are you going after the new guy?” You could hear the smirk on his face without even looking.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “If anything, the new guy’s coming after me, but they don’t know that.” You meant to dodge the question but ended up throwing an accusation out.

Xavier nodded. “The new guy is. Is it working?” You hadn’t even realized that the two of you were already in the parking lot of your apartment. “Unless you’re waiting for Lumiere to ask you out.” He asked as he put the car into park, turning over to you with his eyebrows knitted together. His lips were almost in pout. 

You blinked at him, feeling the whiplash of him basically confessing and making fun of you at the same time. Your lips fell open as your mouth went ajar. 

He dropped his head, chuckling with his eyes closed. It was hard to tell what he was laughing at. And then he looked back up at you, tapping your jaw up with the side of his index finger. “Don’t look so shocked.” His finger lingered on your chin, and you were sure his eyes darted at your lips before going back to your eyes.

Your mouth felt dry. You hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, it felt all new to you again. It was exciting and slightly scary. “How should I look?”

Xavier pretended to think. “Hmm…I’d love to see a smile.” His blue eyes looked at you earnestly. Expectantly.

And you couldn’t help but comply. “Happy?” You blushed, pushing him away. “Let’s go to work already.”

The interaction made you forget about the reason you felt anxious to show up together so close to when everyone was arriving to work. Xavier always opened the door for you and you met with so many people’s eyes as you got out of the car. Your eyes shifted towards the floor, feeling awkward. There were whispers around the two of you as you all entered the building, and you were just hoping that it wasn’t because of you two. 

It most likely was.

Multiple people filled up the elevator, pushing you and Xavier to the back. The morning greetings felt forced as it gave them an excuse to look at you. And him. 

And then you heard a soft whisper. “I’d teleport us out of here…but I think it’s on cooldown, right now.” He joked, making a reference to the game. 

It made you snort. A laugh that you weren’t expecting and couldn’t turn cute. Your hand slapped over to your mouth as some people looked back at you. And you felt Xavier’s shoulders move up and down as he stifled his own laughter. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. You were beginning to think that you were overreacting–minus the morning. Although everyone was perhaps on a crunch to be able to make it on time to the company dinner. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t concentrate on your work at all. You kept glancing up from the screen to look over at Xavier. And sometimes your eyes would meet, sending your body into immense heat. Your imagination ran wild. You were wondering if it could have been considered even too wild. The multiple office fictions you had read replayed in your mind, romanticizing your boring work life. Yet there it was, unfolding in front of you in real-time. 

You wondered how it would play out when the two of you were alone later. Xavier liked you back. You winced as you pinched the skin on the top of your left hand, making sure that you weren’t dreaming. 

“Do you have the framework we need to use for this?” Xavier asked, jogging you out of your thoughts.

You had to blink yourself back into reality as he leaned down near you, pointing at the notification of his email on the corner of your screen. His other hand steadied himself beside you, using the back of your desk chair and his chest was near your face. “Oh, um…” You bit your lip, almost holding your breath, moving your mouse to open his email to find the issue he was working on. You studied it for a bit, hearing him breathing beside you as he read along. Xavier was so close, you were worried he could hear your heart pounding in your chest. And he did. “Are you nervous because you’re looking for a way to reject me or are you excited?” He muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

Your finger twitched, making your right-click the screen, and he laughed softly. “I’ll email you what I normally use for this sort of ordeal…You can go back to your desk.”

“Answer me, first. Please?” You hesitated, pondering if you wanted to play hard to get or give in instantly. Little did you know that you were too confident in yourself for even thinking that you had control over your words. “I’m not rejecting you.”

A sigh of relief left him. “Good.” And then he stood back up and walked to his desk. As if nothing ever happened. Yet, it was almost as if the room got brighter.

—

The chosen restaurant was just the bar and grill across the street of the company building. It was popular for a lot of surrounding company dinners. Everyone seemed to have been in good spirits so you were a little excited to go with them, now that you were sure that you weren’t going to be alone in the corner. 

“I’ll catch up to you guys! I just have to finish a few more things…” You responded to someone asking if you were attending the dinner. It came as a shock since the past two times, no one really asked anymore after you didn’t go before. 

“Me too.” Xavier said, waving them off. 

Hushed whispers filled the doorway as you felt eyes on the back of your head again. “The reservation in thirty minutes! Don’t be too late, you two!” Another coworker said before heading out.

It was a truthful excuse though. You had spent most of the workday dillydallying with your thoughts, making you slower at your coding. The chatter died down as you heard all your other coworkers reach the end of the hallway or already heading downstairs, and you finally let out a sigh of relief.

“We can just go home now, if you want.” You heard Xavier say, making you peek over your monitor.

“You should really interact with your coworkers. There’s only room for one loner in this office.” You pretended to boast before sighing, resuming your typing. “Besides, I kind of want a free dinner tonight.”

“I pay for dinner many times.” He knitted his eyebrows towards you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Only because you never let me, but I mean like free free. Where you’re not paying either. Now finish your work so we can go.”

“I am done, I’m just waiting for you.” You saw him put his head down on his desk, as if he was preparing to take a nap.

You huffed. “Show off.”

He spoke a bit muffled, but you were still able to hear him clearly. “I’d rather go home so we can talk.”

“We’re talking right now.” The numbers and letters on your screen were spinning all over the page, you couldn’t focus at all.

“Do you like me?” He asked, his head still on his desk.

The room went quiet again. You realized how loud your typing was the moment that you stopped. 

Xavier lifted his head again, looking at you from the side of his monitor this time, resting his cheek on his hand. A small pout played on his lips. “I like you.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Your eyes glanced over at his, but you were unable to hold his stare. “Yeah.”

“Can we ditch the company dinner and go on a date instead?” Xavier was bold. You realized that you never pegged him to be as confident as he was, and then his true colors would peek through his impatience. 

“No.” You were stearn, frowning. It was merely an attempt to hide how giddy you felt. “We can go out next time.” You continued to type, but there was no point. Your hands were shaking and none of your commands were being spelled correctly and you were missing every semicolon possible in your code. You were just performing at this rate. 

“After?”

“What are you in such a rush for?” You asked, feigning annoyance.

“Is Charlie the caterer going to be at the dinner?” He asked, a deeper pout showing on his lips. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Is this because of what I said a few days ago?”

“Answer the question.”

“He owns that restaurant.” You lied. 

You swore that you almost saw steam leave the top of his head and his ears as he believed you. And you worked so hard to keep the laughter contained. “I already said I like you.”

“I saw the way he talks to you in the morning. He likes you too.” You couldn’t see his hands, but you were sure that they were clenched into balls. “But please remember that I like you in a way that no one else can.” 

You were a mess. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. “Xavier…” You gasped.

He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back on his chair, his head leaned back with his eyes closed. “If you keep looking at me like that and saying my name like that…I can’t promise that I’ll last until the end of the night.”

Next thing you knew, you were stood up. With shaky hands and knees, you walked over to his chair and put your hand on his chest to grab his tie. 

No words were being exchanged as he opened his eyes to look at you–into you. As if he knew and he was waiting. You bit your lip, your fingers feeling the muscles of his chest through his dress shirt. A small smirk played on his lips as he stood up, suddenly towering over you, waiting for your next move. Quietly.

Your hand moved down his tie, grabbing the end of it before storming out of the office, dragging him with you. Down the hallway with the automatic lights as they turned on with every clop of your high heels on the marble flooring. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, trying to figure out yourself on what you were planning to do. And then you pushed into the room of the stairway of the building, dragging him into the dim room with you. 

“You’re so impatient,” you muttered as you pressed his back to the wall by the floor number right by the door.

“I like seeing your reactions…” He brought his face closer to you, as if he was waiting and wanting.

But you pulled back just enough to make him question everything. You saw the flashes of concern and confusion as you backed away from him. “I like seeing yours too, I guess.” You wondered if he could see your eyes, moving back and forth to every feature on his face to see how he felt. 

Time moved slowly at first as you tiptoed to kiss him, pulling him down by his tie to meet somewhat halfway. You scrunched your eyes closed as you pressed your face against his. You couldn’t really tell if you were holding your breath, or if you just completely forgot how to breathe. It felt like an eternity before he started acting human again, instead of a statue.

But when he did, it was like someone pressed play and each movement suddenly felt rushed or even on fast-forward. He pulled your body closer to him by your waist, making you stumble forward and put most of your weight on him. You let go of his tie to place both your hands on either side of his chest, letting him hold you. It was almost as if the two of you could fuse together with how hot it felt. 

His hands moved from your waist to your back, fully wrapping his arms around you. And you could feel the way his biceps flexed as he held you. His fingers that were moving up your spine made you shiver. And then one hand stayed on the middle of your back as he brought one up to your face, holding your jaw as you two kissed.

You were sure that you forgot how to kiss someone, but it felt almost automatic with Xavier. His lips felt soft and tasted minty from all the pillow mints he would take from the office break room. It made you giggle softly as you could almost tell how much he ate. 

He pulled back to read your face, his thumb tapping the side of your lips with his head cocked. “Are you having fun?”

You nodded. “No wonder I’ve been having to refill the bowl of mints more often since you started working here. You eat them all.” You jabbed at his chest with your finger.

Xavier chuckled and then rested his head on your shoulder, you felt his nose nuzzle at your neck as he hugged you with both his arms again. He sighed, his breath tickling you and making you giggle again. “Now I really don’t want to go…”

“They’re waiting for us…” You moved your hands up to loop around his neck, hugging him back. You did your best to ignore the growing excitement in between your legs and between his.

“Let them.” He groaned, standing back up to look at you. “You’d rather keep me waiting than our coworkers?” Xavier practically glared at you as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I thought we were closer to each other than them.” It sounded as if he whined, his voice breaking ever so lightly. 

“It’s rude to let people wait. This is supposed to be your very late welcoming dinner…” You gulped. You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to kiss him even deeper, taste him even more. Mark every inch of his pale neck and leave stains of your lip balm on his cheek. Your hands balled up into fists on his chest as you fought the urge. 

“You can welcome me instead…let me take you out on a date, right now. Like a gentleman…please.” He was practically pleading, inhaling each breath of yours like it was his. “I won’t do anything further until you let me take you out. No matter how much you…” He closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “No matter how much you look at me like that.”

Half-lidded and dazed, was the way you were looking at him. “Okay…” You wanted to be the person of sound mind and participate in work networking activities, but it was getting harder to ignore every feeling that you had for him. 

He smirked with the sheer confidence of knowing that he won. His hands slid upward, softly and slowly to cup your face. His right thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Where’d all that care for our coworkers go? I expected you to stand your ground.”

“I’m saying ‘yes’ now. Are you going to keep teasing me because I’ll walk over to the restaurant right now and postpone this date until next week.” You pushed him back into the wall and went to grab the door back into the main hallway.

But he caught your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours instead, halting your actions.  He held your waist with his other hand and the pose felt like the two of you were about to do a ballroom number. “No. Let’s grab your stuff and we’ll go right now.” He pouted at you again, bringing the hand he was holding to his lips and muttering against it. “I’ll be good.”

You instantly pulled him in and gave him a peck on the lips, overwhelmed with such affection for him. “What are you waiting for then?”

The two of you rushed back into the office. Your leftover work completely left your mind as your head was filled with blood, sweat, and too many indecent thoughts. Xavier had taken off his jacket and loosened his collar, making you want to jump his bones even more. But the thought that he merely took his jacket off to hide what was growing in his pants made you want to laugh.

The plan was to go to dinner and then go home. Mainly to see what happened next. 

Yet the moment the two of you reached his car, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. He opened your door after placing your purse in the backseat and instead of sitting down, you looked up at him. There was nothing in your head anymore. And you were sure with the way he looked at you like he was drunk with need, that there was not much control in his head either. 

He crashed his lips onto yours, practically forcing you to sit down in the car with the sheer intensity. You gasped as you felt his hand on your hip, his thumb pressing down on your thigh as he was trying so desperately to hold onto you, as if he was afraid of you slipping away. Xavier’s tongue traced your teeth, like he was afraid of pushing his luck. Your eyes instantly shut as you attempted to kiss back with as much fervor. Your chest swelled with happiness as you were finally able to act on your feelings and it made you feel like you were floating. Yet your mind couldn’t stay quiet. 

You pulled back just enough to be able to talk but your lips still chased after yours like oxygen. “Are we going too fast?” You asked, concerned.

“I waited months.” He planted a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll wait more if you want to…” Another kiss on your cheek. “I don’t think you want to, though.” A kiss to your jaw. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” His teeth nibbled on your ear, you could feel the tip of his tongue so close to your neck, making you shiver. “We’re just…kissing. Nothing more…not yet.”

Not yet.

“What if someone sees us? A security guard or something…” Your knee brushed past the bulge growing in his pants and it made him groan right next to your ear as he clenched his fingers around your arm. The sound made you more excited than you ever thought, and all you could think about was wanting to hear more of it. You moved your knee against it again. And again, enjoying the sounds of him biting back right by your ear until he held your knee still. 

“I’m about to make you walk to the restaurant if you keep behaving like this.” Heavy breathing was all you could focus on. The idea that you had this much effect on him made you feel assured. You pulled back to give yourself a better view of him. 

Your neighbor, coworker, and friend was in front of you breathing heavy, red ears, glazed eyes, and with an evident erection. His once bright blue eyes suddenly looked darker than navy. All because of you. “How are we going to dinner if you look like this?” You raised your hand to cup his face and he nuzzled into it instantly, inhaling the scent of your palm. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, and I’ll be fine.”

You had never seen Xavier drive as fast as he did that night. His fingers gripped the wheel tight, turning his already pale knuckles even whiter. You couldn’t help but look over to see the way his forearms flexed underneath the rolled up dress-shirt sleeves. 

Your palms were sweating as you did your best to keep your hands in your lap. Your thighs were pressed together, feeling friction where you needed it at every speed bump. 

You couldn’t even focus on the menu at dinner. It was a beautiful place and he instantly knew to go there. Either he had been there before or he had been planning it for as long as he said. And judging from antisocial he was, he didn’t seem to be a serial dater. 

“Do I get a margarita…?” You joked, trying to ignore every instinct in your body to jump him. 

“No. If you’re even the slightest bit tipsy, I won’t be able to trust a single word you say after…” Xavier’s eyes were knitted together, looking like he was calculating what he was going to do. “I want to know that you’re kissing me because you like me and not because of the tequila.” He sternly said. 

You nearly melted in your seat. A bare minimum, but it was so refreshing nonetheless. “If we just order appetizers, will it still count as a date?”

“Mm…yeah. As long as you tell me why you like me and why we should be together.” He put the menu down in front of him and rested his cheek on his propped up hand, looking at you with sparkling curiosity. 

You nearly choked on your water. “Aren’t you the one asking me out? Shouldn’t I ask you why I should say yes?”

He sat back up and straightened his tie. “Okay.” He tapped on the table mindlessly as he got his words together. “I’ve been interested in you for a while. Pre-coworkers.” A small smile played on his lips. “You left early and got home late. Professional and pretty. But then on the weekends, sometimes I see you in the elevator in Craftmine pajamas and bunny slippers.”

You pouted. “Stalker.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. “And then we’re working together. You’re headstrong and confident. Work hard. Friendly but you’re kind of like me.”

“Xavier, you are not that friendly towards our coworkers.”

“Do you want me to tell you why I like you or not?” He glared at you.  “Hush. Now…we have the same interests. We became accustomed to each other. And I like what we have. But I want more.” He let out a sigh. “I thought I would be okay with doing whatever we’d been doing the past few weeks.” His hand spread open, tensed, before balling up into a fist. “But then I saw that stupid baker laugh at one of your jokes.”

“I can’t be funny now?” You teased him, enjoying the jealousy behind his eyes. 

“You can. Just with me though, please.” He reached for your hand and fiddled with your fingers, rubbing his thumb on your knuckles. “I’m new to this feeling of being jealous. And I realized it'd be really hard for us to be just friends.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay…same.”

He smirked at you. “I give you my whole story and all I get is a ditto?”

You shrugged. “You’re good at Legends?”

He hummed, removing his hand from yours. “Who do you like more? Me or Lumiere?”

You pretend to think long and hard. Each second that went by made his ears turn pinker at the tips. You tried to keep a straight face as you said, “I’ve watched Lumiere longer, but I guess…it’s you now.”

“That’s not very reassuring.” He leaned back on his chair, his eyes glaring at you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So you like to watch me suffer, I see.”

“Hey, if anything, since I spend more time with you now, I don’t watch his streams as often.” You sighed, taking another sip of water. “He doesn’t stream that much anymore either, though.” You thought for a moment and laughed to yourself, shaking your head as you set your glass down.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, putting his elbows to the table again, as if he was attempting to close the distance between you two. 

You shrugged, dragging the tip of your index finger around the rim of the glass. “You two are so alike…I’ve never seen the two of you in the same room.” You joked. “Xavier,” you locked eyes with him. “You’re not Lumiere, right?”

Xavier looked stunned, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you asked what you deemed as a ‘dumb’ question or because you just compared him to someone he didn’t seem to like very much. He opened his mouth to answer, but then the waiter came to ask for your orders.

You thought that the dinner would have been hard to get through, but you forgot how easy it was to be with Xavier. There were moments where you would remember what was happening in your pants, but for the most part, you were able to enjoy your time without squirming in your seat too much. 

He ordered a small dessert, sharing the ice cream with tiny spoons as you two giggled at small talk. “I want us to be together.” Xavier said, clinking his spoon onto yours as if the two of you were sword fighting. “I really want to call you mine.”

You hummed, tapping your spoon onto his again. “We only know so much about each other…What if you get to know me and then realize I-”

“Isn’t it enough that I want to know everything about you? Each little thing I learn about you is meaningful to me. And I want more.” He set the spoon down. “I want to be the only one who knows this much about you, see every side of you.” 

You took a deep breath, setting your spoon down next to his. “Will I learn about you?”

“Haven’t you been?” He cocked his head, the same smug smirk grew on his face. 

You shrugged. “I feel like I talk a lot more than you do. I want to know what you used to do and what you aspire to do. Things like that.”

“I aspire to be yours. Can we start there?” He motioned for the check as he held his gaze onto you. “We’ll have all the time to learn about each other, I just can’t stand the idea of not being able to call you mine as we do.” He held your hand again. “Please?”

You wanted to scream ‘yes’ over and over again, as if he had just proposed to you. But something in you wanted to play hard to get. It felt so easy for you to tease Xavier, and seeing his very slight annoyance was amusing to you. “So…we’re dating?”

“If you accept me.”

“I guess…we’re dating then.” You attempted to contain your excitement with another swig of water. You felt like you were getting your first boyfriend in high school. It was giddy and unreal. You thought back to how you entered relationships back in college, but it all felt so casual compared to his loaded confession. This felt real and raw to you. And you wanted more. You were excited for every ‘first’ with him. All of a sudden, your past relationships didn’t count anymore.

 “That doesn’t sound serious enough actually.” He pouted, sulking into his seat. “And you don’t sound that excited.”

You felt like jumping him like one of those jumpscares from another video game you enjoyed. Your mind was melting, screaming the word ‘cute’ over and over again. “Let me prove it to you then.” You said as you stood up and began to walk out of the restaurant. You saw how he fumbled with his wallet, taking out a wad of cash to leave on the table instead of waiting to pay with his card. 

He caught up with you, interlocking your fingers together and dragging you faster with him. He opened the car door for you and continued to hold your hand for stability as you got in. It felt like that one scene from a movie where the guy held her hand as she got onto a carriage. 

The car was freezing, but you were fully sweating. Your legs were shivering and you couldn’t tell if it was the rest of your body feeling cold, or if it was from excitement. You saw Xavier take swift steps around the car to get to the other side, fully ignoring oncoming traffic. 

The two of you sat there for a few seconds. It felt awkward. You wanted him to take you right then and there, but you didn’t want to seem too eager. You were embarrassed that you were acting like a bunny in heat. It was all too new again and you didn’t want to ruin things. You usually never did anything on the first date either, but it felt different with Xavier. Especially since you had spent a lot of time with him already, it was as if every outing before was a date too. You looked at him, waiting for something. Anything. 

“I’m trying really hard to build myself to take the both of us home, right now.” He closed his eyes and drooped his head, taking a deep breath. 

“Why haven’t you started the car yet, then?” You rested your elbow on the center console of the car, putting your chin onto your palm as you continued to stare at him. “Are you waiting for something?”

“Are you?” He finally opened his eyes and glared at you, inching his face towards you. You could smell the slight coffee scent from dessert in his breath. His eyes glanced up and down your face, obviously looking at your lips that were in a pout as you grew impatient. “Your eyes…I’m quite patient, but when it comes to you…” His hand moved up to your face, his thumb barely grazing at your bottom lip that was jutted out. 

“I actually feel like the most impatient one here,” you took a shaky breath in. “Xavier…”

His breath hitched and he leaned closer as if he was about to kiss you, his bottom lip almost touching yours. But his thumb separated the two of you. And then he let out a chuckle as he noticed your eyes were fully shut. 

Xavier moved his face to the side of yours, reaching over to grab your seatbelt. His breath tickled your neck before he pulled back. His other hand pushed you by your shoulder, gently, to make you sit properly onto the chair. “You are.” A click of the seatbelt fully throttled you out of your thoughts. “Impatient.” He clicked his tongue and sat back into his seat, putting his own seatbelt on before pushing the button to start the car. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you got comfortable. You knew that he was teasing you, and you wondered how long he was able to keep his composure. 

Xavier hummed along to the random song playing on the radio, tapping on the steering wheel. He was clearly amused with seeing you squirm in your own seat. 

“You’re enjoying this,” you glared at him from the side, crossing your leg. Your foot tapped against the car, evident with your displeasure.

Another chuckle. “I told you…I want to see your reactions.” He reached over and poked you on your cheek. “All of them.”

You couldn’t fight down the smile that was playing on your lips as he said those words. It was flirtatious and teasing all at once, and you were so close to taking the steering wheel yourself to swerve the car into an abandoned parking lot. 

Instead, you reached your left hand over and rested it on his thigh. You didn’t miss his tiny jump with the way he reacted. Nor did you miss the way his fingers twitched on the wheel. “How much longer until we get home?”

“Not soon enough…” Xavier answered through gritted teeth, his knees parted even more, making your fingers move closer to the inside of his thigh. You dragged it slowly more upward, teasing him with your fingertips. “B-behave…” His voice, which was normally soft, became strong and stern.

“I’m not doing anything…Am I bothering you?” You squeezed his thigh making him twitch again. You took your pinky and moved it closer to the growing bulge in his pants. “Maybe I’m not the only one that’s impatient, huh?”

Thankfully for the two of you, there were barely any cars on the road. And he was speeding up immensely. “I’ll be the judge of that.” His right hand moved from the wheel to your own thigh.

Your thighs squeezed onto his fingers out of surprise.

“Do you want me to stop?” He huffed out. 

You couldn’t answer, you were afraid that your voice would break. Instead, you relaxed your legs and yourself onto the seat. And you moved your hand up on him, inviting him to mirror you. Your ring and pinky finger were rubbing him over his pants and you knew exactly what you were touching. 

He wasted no time to cup your heat, two of his fingers finding your clit through your pants instantly as he pressed down. You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress any sound fighting to come out of you as you felt him. “Fuck…how long does it take to get home…” He moved his two fingers up and down, slowly. Too slowly for you. “You’re trembling.” He continued. “I’ve been thinking about how sensitive you are.” 

A small moan came out of you and the hand that was on his lap slapped over your mouth as the other cupped over his own hand. 

“Your expressions are telling me I’m doing a very good job…” You could hear the smirk in his voice as his thumb rubbed your thigh whilst the two other fingers pressed down on you. “At least let me hear that I’m doing good too, yeah?” His voice was deep and breathy, almost desperate and breaking. 

You were just glad to see familiar buildings, knowing you were close to home. Your hand came down, gripping your seatbelt as you let soft moans come out of you. You knew words no longer existed, and yet you complied with his request.

“You sound so good, my star…” His fingers were rubbing small circles on you now, and you wondered how much you were leaking through the fabrics of your bottoms. You could feel the intense warmth in between your legs. 

You were so focused on cumming that you didn’t realize that he had messily parked the car already. Both of your hands gripped at his wrist as he moved faster and harder against your core. Whimpers spilled out of your mouth until he nudged your face up with his nose to reach your lips. Engulfing you with a kiss as you slowly unfolded. 

The position must have been awkward for him, but his slender fingers persisted whilst his other hand pushed your head closer to him. You gasped against him as your legs shook with intensity and you came just from getting rubbed over your pants. 

“Did you like that?” He asked, breathing in your own breath. 

All you could do was nod as you processed what had just happened. No one had ever made you feel that intense that you could cum just like that before. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smirked before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Xavier pulled back to take his seatbelt off and his hand moved to the engine button again, probably to fix his parking, but you instantly tugged on his shirt to pull him back towards you. “Sh-shouldn’t I return the favor…?” You asked, glancing at his crotch before realizing it was too dark in the garage to see anything.

He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss. “Later…I promise.”

The elevator trip upstairs was sweet, unlike what happened in his car. There was slight disappointment in your chest, wondering what’s keeping him from taking you in that elevator. You wondered if the sound you made while you came was a turn-off or if his hand was hurting too much from the angle he was in. The little things that made you overthink were swarming your brain.

Then he hugged you from the back and pressed a kiss onto your neck. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

You held onto his arms that were around you. “Hmm…Just thought you wanted to…y’know.” You admitted.

He chuckled, his hair tickling your neck as his head moved as he reacted. “Are you disappointed? I just wanted to talk to you first…” He pressed himself closer to you and you could feel his sincerity. “Can’t you feel that I’m holding back?”

You rolled your eyes, “What’s so important that we have to-” You stopped talking as the elevator doors opened to your floor and you saw boxes outside of the unit beside you. “Woah, someone’s finally moving in.” You pulled away from Xavier and walked into the hallway of your floor to see if you could introduce yourself. 

You could hear Xavier grumble behind you, along with his footsteps following you. Although you were excited to be alone in your home with Xavier, wondering what could happen next as the two of you were actually a couple. But the unit beside you had been vacant since the day you had moved in, so you were just hoping that it was a nice person.

And then you saw a very familiar face. 

“Charlie?” You exclaimed as you ran up to the doorway, making your way through the boxes. “Woah! You’re my new neighbor!”

“Hey!” Charlie said, putting down the stand-mixer that he was holding. “What a coincidence!” He reached his arm out, motioning for a side-hug.

You were about to reciprocate until Xavier took his hand and shook it. An awkward scene, but you were too busy being surprised by how suspiciously polite Xavier looked. “Hi, I’m your neighbor too. I live upstairs.”

“O-Oh! Hello!” Charlie smiled at him warmly, but the warmth was not reciprocated by Xavier at all. “You’re the newest hire, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. And you’re the baker.” His hold on Charlie was firm, as if he was trying to show him up.

Charlie wiggled himself free from his grip and then motioned to the boxes. “I should finish unpacking.”

“Of course! We’ll leave you to it then…” You grabbed Xavier’s wrist and pulled him toward your apartment. You knew Xavier had something against him, which you actually found quite endearing, but you didn’t expect him to let it show. Despite how polite he tried to be, it was more condescending and obviously fake. Once the door to your place closed, you threw your stuff on the couch and went to the kitchen to make tea. “I can’t believe your best friend is living next to me,” you jested, almost snorting.

“Now that he’s your neighbor, are you going to invite him over for dinner too?” He stood by one of the counters of the kitchen, leaning his head against one of the cabinets. You couldn’t see his face too clearly, but that pout of his was prominent from his tone. 

It wasn’t that you liked hearing him be sad or upset, but something about it made you want to tease him even more. 

“Shouldn’t I?” You weren’t going to, but the idea of Xavier possibly breaking the door down was amusing to you. “Calm down, Xavi…I thought I heard the kettle whistling, but it was just the steam coming out of your ears.” You walked toward him and placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb caressing him softly to loosen his frown. “Now what did you want to tell me that you’re keeping me waiting for?” You wrapped your arm around his neck to hook onto him and he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you close to him.

His expression changed completely. The usually confident Xavier Shen looked like he was about to start trembling like a little chihuahua. 

You raised an eyebrow at him and tilted your head, seeing if you could look into his blue eyes and look through his thoughts, but he started avoiding your gaze. “Earth to Xavier?”

“I’m Lumiere.” He said, his voice breaking a little.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Come on, what actually do you have to tell me?” His arms loosened around your waist and one hand came up to rub the back of his neck, something he did when he felt awkward. “Are you secretly an alien? Like Clark Wayne or Bruce Kent or whatever?”

He took a deep breath and then looked you in the eyes. “I was going to tell you before I asked you out, but I never knew the time and whenever I’m with you I just…I really like you and I knew I needed to tell you before we went any further.” 

You started staring aimlessly at his chest and then the ground trying to process what he was saying, but then he bent down to your gaze and tried meeting your eyes with his. 

“Don’t be mad, please?” His voice cracked near the end, and you could tell it was taking everything out of him to tell you.

You didn’t know what you felt. It felt irrational to be mad because you didn’t even know what to be mad about. You were in some sort of state of shock. Your real-life crush was your online crush. On paper, you thought that sounded cute, but when it was happening to you in real time, you were just embarrassed. You talked about why you liked Lumiere to Lumiere himself. You even felt stupid for liking him because he was some faceless streamer that played a toxic game. 

“Say something…” He quietly pleaded. Your name was whispered out of his mouth, like he was afraid of breaking it if he said it too loud.

And then the kettle did start whistling. 

You dropped your hands from his neck and turned around to remove it from the stove. Without looking at him, you finally talked. “You should go home tonight. I have to think.”

“Ask me anything, please. I-” Xavier said, you could hear him getting closer to you.

“Please…just give me a moment, Xavier.” 

“I’ll be one call away…okay?” He said. You could feel him so close to you, like his hand was trying to reach out for yours, but he thought otherwise and then walked out. 

You left the boiled water on the counter, not really checking if you turned the stove off. And then you face planted right on the couch. You looked for something to be mad at and all the answers just pointed at being mad at yourself for not realizing sooner. You had suspicions, but for your long-time infatuation being your neighbor that turned into your coworker and friend was too good to be true. You just thought you were being too hopeful. Now you two were more than friends so you were sure you should have been happy.

And yet, you couldn’t pinpoint why you weren’t. 

The whole weekend passed by and you didn’t leave the house, nor did you talk to him. Which made you feel even worse. Since you couldn’t find any reason to be upset at him, just at yourself, and you still ignored every message and knocked on your door that you knew was him.

You even woke up extra early the following Monday to take the train and avoid him. It was the first time you had taken the train in months, and on top of that, it was a quiet ride. You couldn’t even bring yourself to listen to music, your thoughts were loud enough.

And it was as if he knew because he showed up to work, looking less prim and proper as he took his seat in front of your desk, searching for any sign of you in you. Yet you averted your gaze.

It was suffocating being at your desk as your thoughts ran grew louder. It was as if everyone else could feel the tense air too as they worked quieter than usual.

The man you had pined over on the internet for months, almost a year, and the man you had been pining over in real-life turned out to be the same person. And you could feel his eyes glance over at you every other moment. 

You still couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him, even though you really wanted to. You just felt humiliated. 

Although you were trying to figure out when he would have told you, or if he would have ever told you. You knew you weren’t really obligated to know as of yet. You two had just started developing something more than friends. 

You couldn’t focus on the codes on the screen as you were thinking back to everything you had said to the streamer that just so happened to be someone who was really close to being your boyfriend. You’ve had drunken nights where you complimented him a lot on your social media accounts, making thirsty statements about his hands. Yearning for the faceless man. You wanted to scream into your hands as you remembered that Xavier knew your username. He knew it was you. And now you knew it was him.

The moment it hit the time for your lunch break, you darted out of the office, heading up multiple flights of stairs until you reached the roof of the building. Your head spun like you were losing oxygen until you pushed the heavy door and felt the fresh air hit your face. Deep breaths. 

Lumiere was Xavier. And Xavier was Lumiere. Somewhere deep down, you already knew. Even after trying to deny it. And now that it was fully confirmed, you wanted to scream. You wanted to cringe yourself into a black hole as flashes of interactions with lumiere kept going through your mind. You were on the “Lumiere X Reader” tags on fanfiction sites too. 

It was hard to distinguish what you felt. Guilt, embarrassment, confusion…The mix was overwhelming. 

A long and deep breath kept you from spiraling. 

All you knew was that you still liked him. A lot. 

Another deep breath.

Even if it was embarrassing for you, he still confessed to you even with the knowledge that you were one of Lumiere’s biggest fans. It was also better off that he told you from his own chest rather than finding out later on. The only thing that was keeping you away from him was your own cowardice. 

Lumiere or not, you really liked Xavier. 

With the newfound realization, you walked back towards your office with a new mindset. Along with plans in your head to talk to Xavier again. You craved your old routine back. You had grown too accustomed to being with him that it was tearing you apart that you weren’t doing the things you normally did. 

You were coming up with things to say to him and finding segues to talking to him again. Different sorts of apologies and ways to apologize came to your mind. You wondered if you should follow him into the break room and say, ‘I’m okay that I completely embarrassed myself in front of you,’ and then kiss and make-up. It was multiple unrealistic scenarios straight out of a montage of a teen movie film.

Yet they were all interrupted as someone grabbed your wrist as you passed by the supply closet and pulled you into the dark room. Before you screamed, you heard a familiar ‘shhh’ and then the lights turned on.

Xavier was in front of you, bags visible under his eyes and clear signs of worry as he looked down at you. “I’m sorry I just…” He let go of your arm and stepped back, raking his fingers through his silver hair, taking a deep breath. 

He looked like a mess, but it almost made you mad as to how good he looked despite it. The buttons of his shirt were misaligned and improperly tucked, mismatched socks, and one missing cuff link. 

“You wouldn’t even look at me…and I didn’t know…” He started rambling. 

You didn’t know how else to stop him, mainly because you were still in shock. And instead of being a rational person, stop him by saying ‘Hey! It’s fine!’ Instead you stepped on your tippy toes, grabbed his wrinkled collar and brought him down for a kiss. 

Both of you seemed to have been in shock as you pulled away. “S-sorry. I just- Um, I wasn’t mad at you. I just felt kind of dumb for not connecting the two dots so-”

It was your turn to be stopped with a kiss.

Xavier pushed you back onto the shelf, one hand behind your head and the other above you, possibly to keep the shelf from falling down. He kissed you like you were the oxygen mask in a post-apocalyptic movie in space. Your eyes were still open and you could barely see that his eyes were squeezed shut until yours fluttered closed soon after. 

He moaned softly as you kissed him back, like he was surprised by the affection you were showing after two days of ignoring him. “I thought…I screwed up…” He said, in between kisses as he gasped. And then he pulled away, putting his forehead on your shoulder, breathing heavily. “You’re not mad at me?”

You hummed, your hand on his shoulder. “I kind of am…You asked me so many embarrassing questions…turns out you just wanted to hear me praise you.” Your eyebrows knitted together, bothered by his audacity.

“I actually hate that you like Lumiere so much.” He grumbled against you. You could feel his teeth graze your exposed skin from your sleeveless top, as if he was going to bite you. 

You scoffed. “You and Lumiere are the same person, didn’t you just say that?” 

He pulled back to glare at you. “While Lumiere is funny and smart…I’m apparently corny and cocky.” He got closer to your face with each word. “He made the same joke I made a few days before and you’d roll your eyes at me. But I’m sure when Lumiere said it, you were laughing up a storm.” 

You were still beating yourself up for everything, but the way he read you like a book made you want to disappear. You covered your face with your hands and cowered. “How long are you going to make fun of me? I’ll actually run away…” You mumbled into your fingers. 

His small laugh made you warm up again, and then you felt his hands wrap around your wrists, prying them away from your face. One of his thumbs hooked under your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. “Do you still like me?”

You slowly nodded.

“Okay, good.” He kissed the tip of your nose, light and sweet. His lips moved down to yours and your mouth was agape, waiting for something. But instead, he pecked your bottom lip softly and chuckled. “Let’s go back to work. I’ll take care of you later. We have time we need to make up.” He reached up above you again and grabbed a box of paperclips. 

And then you were alone in the supply room. 

The rest of the day was a blur. You were working on autopilot as you sped through every ticket in order to make sure that you were able to leave as soon as possible. The only time that it felt slow was when Xavier would look past his monitor to see you. 

His expressions were normally hard to read, but it felt like everything was actually out in the open. And you could see from his almost-glowing blue eyes that he was rushing to the end of the work day as well. 

As your humiliation was slowly dying down, your fascinations were coming back. You were so embarrassed that you couldn’t focus on the fact that you had actually liked one person for a long time. Your fingers worked away on the keyboard as you started to look on the brighter side of things.

You weren’t completely delusional after all. 

The owner of the attractive hands was attractive himself. He was everything you thought you were and much more. Although, each time you thought of something positive about the situation, an embarrassing moment where you freaked out over something Lumiere-related to Xavier would pop up in your mind. And it made you want to slam your head onto your monitor. 

Bright side. Bright side. Bright side. You thought to yourself. 

The mantra became too much for your brain as you started to mutter it out loud while you were in the elevator with Xavier to get to his car. “Bright side of what?”

You looked at him wide eyed. “Huh?” You realized that Xavier looked brighter than that morning. He fixed his shirt and somehow unwrinkled everything, back to his prim and proper self. “I- uh…I am looking on the bright side of things.”

“So…you are still mad at me.” His eyebrows came together as he pouted. 

You tapped your chin to think, letting him open the door for you. “No?”

Xavier cocked his head to the side before shutting your door and only replied when he got in the driver’s seat. “You didn’t sound very sure.”

“I’m just embarrassed! I don’t know how to explain that any further.” You groaned. “But if I get rid of…how many times you made me talk about Lumiere…I can focus on the bright side.”

He started the car and was quickly driving back to your place. “What are the bright sides then?”

“I’m dating my celebrity crush.” You beamed at him. “And I wasn’t that crazy thinking about him the way I did, because you really are my type!”

“Am I more your typ-” Xavier started but you instantly swatted his arm.

“Don’t ruin this.”

The two of you bickered about the logistics of him being jealous of you liking Lumiere despite the fact that Lumier equaled Xavier the entire car ride home. And the entire elevator up.

Except on the way up, instead of pressing your floor, he pressed his. “Now that you know…you can come over now, right?” He suddenly looked shy. 

“You always said your place was too busy, I really was starting to think that the ‘other family’ theory was becoming plausible.” You huffed, a little exhausted from trying to understand his jealousy. Although you found it amusing as well. Dork.

“My stream set-up is in the living room.” He shrugged, walking to open his door as soon as the elevator let the two of you off. “I think it would’ve been too obvious.”

“Can I ask why you kept it a secret?” You played with the hem of your shirt while you waited for him to get his keys out to open his door. “Not to everyone, I get that. I mean…when you found out I liked Lumiere…you didn’t say anything.”

He paused before opening his door and then turned to you. “How would you have reacted?” Xavier opened his door and let you in. 

You thought about your answer, but you were distracted by his layout. It was clean and organized. His furniture was modern, and yet it was still homey. “U-uh…I guess I wouldn’t have believed you. Well…”

“I was surprised to know that you’re starlight.” Xavier said, taking your bag from your hand to hang on his rack by the door. As he did so, his touch was soft and lingered long enough to know that it was on purpose. 

“Please…that’s so…” You cringed, walking around the living room. It was the exact same layout as your place, but the way he decorated made it seem like a completely different place. You distracted yourself by taking in the scenery as the realization of being alone with him properly with a new relationship was settling in your bones. Warmth was flowing through you in more ways than one. “You knew me by name?”

“There’s only one starlight.” He said, following close behind you, And then he bent down, his mouth near your ear. “You’re still cringing at yourself, but would it make you feel better if the feelings were mutual this whole time?” His breath tickled you and sent signals directly to your lower area. 

You awkwardly laughed, turning towards him. “Wha-”

“I, the faceless streamer, got excited seeing a certain viewer’s name in my chat.” He smirked down at you, walking forward as you walked back until the back of your knees hit his couch. “You had the same name on Tweeter and I went through your account too. Little glimpses of your life, very miniscule, and I was interested.” You fell back onto the couch and he towered over you, one knee beside your legs with both his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up. “Are we even now?”

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. “W-what now?”

“A gentleman usually waits for the girl he likes to say yes…” His face inched closer down to yours, waiting as he flitted his eyes between your eyes and your lips.

“Then…yes.”

You never understood how ‘searing kisses’ existed in literature. Until you had that kiss with Xavier. Your entire face felt like it was on fire, growing throughout your body. The way his tongue met with yours, the feeling of one of his hands on the back of your neck, moving down to the lower part of your back. You kissed him back with just as much intensity as he kissed you, your hands exploring his chest, and you were sure that you ripped a few buttons clean off as you tried to get rid of as many layers as possible. 

“Are you sure…?” He gasped against your mouth as your hands fumbled with his pants. 

“Fuck, please…” You begged into his mouth. 

Xavier readjusted the two of you on his couch, having you fully lay down and him settling in between your legs. He had even placed the pillows under your head so you could watch him properly. You watched as he ripped open your stockings impatiently, just to be able to remove your underwear properly. Your skirt was tossed to the side, along with your shirt, leaving you fully nude. “Fucking beautiful. I knew you’d be this beautiful…” He praised as he kissed your belly, moving upwards to kiss each breast, and then more upwards to your neck. He was still fully clothed, despite your shaky attempts of tearing his clothes off. You lacked the strength he had. But you felt his bulge through his pants on your bare core. You couldn’t help but seek friction by rubbing yourself against his clothed cock, making him wince against your neck. His free hand grabbing one of your breasts, as if to hold himself grounded. “I-impatient…Are you enjoying yourself?” His hips moved against yours. You had a feeling you soaked through his pants, but it felt like he got harder with each movement. 

It was an odd sensation, but since it was with Xavier, everything felt too good. You were almost at the edge when he pulled back, making you whine.

He replaced the sensation with his hand. Xavier’s bare fingers were against you, no fabric in sight to separate the two of you anymore. “You’re so wet, starlight. Were you waiting for this?” Two fingers played at your entrance. “I can already tell…what your answer is…” He moved on top of you again to capture your lips, and at the same time, his fingers entered you. 

It was hard to kiss him back as you moaned into his mouth. Everything was happening all the same time and you were overjoyed. His two fingers pumped in and out of you as his thumb rubbed against your clit. A small part of you wanted to be jealous of where he learned how to be good with his hands, but each movement sent shockwaves throughout your body. “Your entire body…is responding to me.”

“Please, X-Xavier…” You felt spit drip down from the side of your mouth and you were unaware if it was yours or his. “I n-need you.”

“You have me, baby.” He softly bit your neck as he got faster with his hands. 

You threw your head back with almost a yelp, you were too close, but you wanted more. “F-fuck me, please. I can take it…I want it.” Adrenaline coursed through your veins, giving you just enough strength to say what you wanted.

Xavier sat back up and pulled his fingers out of you. “I never thought I’d hear you beg for me…I want to hear it more…” You watched as he removed his pants just enough to free his cock. Long and thick cock. You weren’t surprised, and you weren’t disappointed. He took the fingers that were inside of you and used your lingering slick to wrap around himself, stroking himself as he looked at you. “Do it again…”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed. “Please…please fuck me, Xavi…”

Instead of fucking you then and there, Xavier stood up and grabbed your wrist to make you follow him. Your legs wobbled with need and you could feel your excitement dribble down your thigh. “Come here…” He said through gritted teeth, pushing aside his chair and making you bend over in front of his desk. 

His actions in getting you to his desk were rough, but the way he slowly entered you showed his restraint and care still. The way he held you up as you took his cock slowly through every inch until he was fully in. “Oh my fu- ngh!” You knew you had limited words now, your mind filled with sex.

“I knew you’d feel so good, starlight. I’ve been imagining this for so long…” He kissed your shoulder. “Tell me you had too…”

All you could do was nod as moans spilled out of your mouth at every thrust.

“Look at the screen, starlight.” He lifted your head gently by your hair, aiming your gaze at his computer monitor. The camera that was normally pointed at the keyboard was pointed right at you. He pressed on the spacebar and it was your reflection. It wasn’t recording you, but the big ‘Go Live’ button on the corner made you feel nervous. 

And somehow more excited.

Xavier hissed behind you. “Fuck me…I knew you’d like this.” Another thrust into you filled the room with both of your moans. “Don’t you look beautiful…?”

“Y-you’re embarrassing me…” You grunted out.

Another thrust. Wetter and louder. Harder. “Really? It sounds like you’re really enjoying yourself. Look…” His hand moved down to hold you up with your chin. “Your words don’t match what’s happening here– ngh…” Another thrust. He squeezed your cheeks together with his thumb and index, making you pucker out your lips for the camera. “And here…you look so good around my cock…right?” The grip he had on your hip was so tight, but it somehow felt so good.

In just a few seconds, so many new interests came to your mind, being awakened inside of you. 

You realized how long his arms were with the way he so easily maneuvered them around you. He moved his hold onto you to be able to put two of his fingers into your mouth. And like clockwork, you welcomed him right in. “Is this what you imagined while watching me play?” His other hand roamed up your waist, squeezing at every part of you that he could. “I’ve read what you’ve said about me…” He chuckled, referring to your fan account. “You’re doing so well…”

You hummed around his fingers, looking right at the screen. It was embarrassing to see how blown out you looked. Your eyes no longer looked like they were in your control. It was so high-definition that you could see the strings of spit dropping onto his desk as you sucked on his fingers. Xavier was barely on screen, but you could see the bottom half of his face. The smirk. You felt that it was unfair seeing as your chest softly bounced, fully nude and bare. Whilst Xavier still had his white button-up still on. Barely but still on. 

“Careful with where your hands are, baby. One wrong move and Lumiere’s face reveal might get my whole channel banned…you wouldn’t want that would you?” He slowed down his thrusts, watching you intently and moving your hair out of your face with his other hand that wasn’t in your mouth still. “Or maybe you do? You talked a lot about me being so jealous…but I’ve seen you react to other thirst tweets about Lumiere.” He leaned closer to your ear, licking at your tongue as he looked at you through the screen. “You’re just as jealous as me, aren’t you?”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you nodded weakly, pushing your ass back onto him, silently begging him to keep going. 

Xavier removed his fingers from your mouth, taking advantage of how wet they were to bring them down to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles just to tease you as he completely stopped fucking you. “Tell me who you like…say my name.”

Your knees were trembling even more. “X-Xavi…-er, p-please?” You turned back to look at him, the real him, trying to meet his blue eyes. You searched for the satisfaction, the pleasure that was contorting his face. “Xavier…I like-angh…you. S-so much.” You felt drool on the corner of your mouth and you knew you looked like a mess. You already saw it. 

He pulled out of you completely, making you whimper from the loss. And then he grabbed the chair that he pushed aside to sit you down in it, settling himself in between your legs. His cock radiated heat and looked slick in the dim light of the desk lamp. “Say it again.” He teased the tip at your entrance, hooking your legs onto his forearms as he gripped the armrests of the gaming chair. “Please, starlight?”

You wiggled in the seat, trying to get more comfortable. Your sweat made you slip easier around the leather chair. “Don’t…” You gasped as he moved his tip against your clit. “D-don’t call me that,” you whined. 

“Why not, starlight? Isn’t that the name you made for me?” He chuckled. 

You were breathing heavily as you glared at him. “Oh, so now you wanna be Lumiere…when it-” He slapped his cock against your tip this time, as if he hated the way you said a different name. 

“Say my name,” he nearly growled. His blue eyes turned darker than ever. “You don’t want me to stop, right?”

You shook your head.

“Yet…it seems like you don’t want me to continue either.” He cocked his head to the side. 

“X-Xavier…” You gave up, desperate for him. 

“Hmm? What… Your voice is trembling. I can’t hear you…” He teased, pulling back.

“Xavier! Please!” He chuckled, positioning himself at your entrance. “Good girl,” he said before fully entering you again. “Fuck…you’re so good.”

Only a little bit of you was worried about the neighbors. You wondered if Xavier was enjoying that other people could hear you. Especially one person downstairs. You were moaning loudly as he grunted while he fucked you.

You could feel every inch and hear every inch entering you. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were, but you could see him staring intently at the place the two of you connected. You laid your head back on the chair and shut your eyes, taking in every movement as you got closer and closer over the edge.

But then he dropped one of your legs and grabbed your face again, gripping it tightly. “Keep your eyes open and look at me.” 

And you don’t know what came over you as he said those words to you, but one look at him being rough made you instantly cum. Your head was thrown back again as your entire body shook and your walls pulsed around his cock. Your hands gripped and scratched at his arms, losing control of every limb.

“Holy fuck…you’re beautiful.” He gasped. “So…perfect.” He muttered as he leaned down to capture your open mouth with his, tangling your tongues together as he tasted everything. “I’ll never…get enough of this…” He said in between kisses. “Fuck…I’m gonna cum, starlight.” He kissed your cheek and moved to your ear. “Where do you want me…?” He whispered seductively in your ear. 

“Holy shit…p-please Xavier. Insi-inside me…” You nearly screamed, afraid he’d pull out.

“D-don’t say things like that so suddenly…I c-can’t hol-ngh…” And then you felt him speed up, making you cum again as you heard him grunt and moan by your ear. Up until you felt him spill into you. He kissed you again as he came inside of you, and you couldn’t tell if it was him or you leaking onto the chair. Neither of you cared as you kissed your way through every shockwave of your orgasms. “We’re not done yet, starlight…I said we had to make up for lost time, didn’t I?”

[qierxing]

I know it may ne too late since the last one was in 2023 but I just wanted to say I love your Bury me gently and Twst Yandere stuff!! Oh! And the Poly Heartslabyul was SO AMAZiNG!!

WAUGH tyty I feel so bad bc I have the last part of bury me gently but ROUGHGHGHG i have not had any time or motivation to write

[qierxing]

I'd be so embarrassed posting my writing/art if I were you. Being unabashedly mediocre in both creative hobbies? Just pick a struggle already.

normally i dont even bother with this kind of thing but this is the funniest copypasta hatemail I've gotten. dude who doesnt even remember who i am

[crazykinkrottenkiwi]

Prankster | Twisted Oneshots

Pairing: Yandere!Toge Inumaki × F!Reader

Genre: Dark fiction, Psychological horror, Yandere, Psychological manipulation, Captivity

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings:

Dark content, captivity, psychological/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, drug use (medication/sedatives), power imbalance, obsessive behavior, mental breakdown, trauma, control dynamics, forced compliance, unhealthy relationship, restraint, implied coercion, isolation, and overall horror/psychological distress themes.

Please DO NOT read if you are sensitive to these topics.

A/N: This story delves into very dark psychological and emotional themes. It focuses on obsession, control, and manipulation within a yandere framework. If you are uncomfortable with depictions of captivity, manipulation, or emotional abuse, please skip this piece. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Masterlist

The air at Jujutsu High was always sharp in the mornings - the kind that made your lungs feel too small, like the world was trying to remind you of your limits before the day even began.

And you... you had limits.

Your hand slipped into the pocket of your uniform, fingers brushing over the familiar rattle of the pill bottle you carried everywhere. The doctors called it a mild heart condition. You called it the reason you had to sit out of gym class half your life. Stress, fear, running too much - any of it could send your chest tightening, your breath growing thin until it felt like the world was caving in. A few tiny pills and time were usually enough to set things right again.

But still, you had been stubborn enough - stupid enough, maybe - to join Jujutsu High a few months ago. Because cursed spirits didn't care about weak hearts or anxious lungs, and you refused to live your life hiding behind excuses.

And for the most part... It was going well.

Until he happened.

"Toge," Panda had introduced him on your very first day, when you were still wide-eyed and gripping your bag like a lifeline. "Don't mind him. He doesn't talk much."

He really didn't. At least, not with normal words.

"Salmon," he said back then, eyes crinkling at you in what might have been a smile.

You hadn't known it yet, but that single word would become the start of the most frustrating routine of your life.

Because Toge Inumaki? He was a menace.

Not in the loud, obnoxious way some guys were - the ones who needed to talk over everyone to get noticed. No, Toge was... quieter than that.

He didn't talk much. He couldn't, not the way everyone else did. That was the first thing you learned about him. The second thing?

He was everywhere.

It took you a few days to notice it.

At first, you thought you were just running into him by coincidence - in the hall on your way to class, near the training grounds when you were practicing late, outside the cafeteria when you were carrying lunch back to your room.

But then you realized it wasn't a coincidence at all.

He was always there.

Always within a few steps whenever you left your dorm. Always leaning against a wall, shoulders relaxed, eyes half-lidded like he had nothing better to do but hover just close enough to catch your attention.

And then came the pranks.

One morning, the bag of chips you'd left on your desk mysteriously vanished, only for you to find a sticky note in its place with the word "Salmon" scrawled across it. The next time, it was your drink from the vending machine-gone without a trace until you spotted him across the hall, sipping something suspiciously familiar and refusing to look guilty.

He didn't just steal snacks. He used that cursed speech of his too, though never for anything serious. Once, as you were standing up from your chair, he muttered "Sit," and you dropped back down so suddenly you nearly bruised your tailbone. Another time, you were mid-sentence when he said "Sleep" and your eyelids fluttered shut for three terrifying seconds before you jerked awake to find him staring at you, lips twitching like he wanted to laugh.

You'd find slips of paper tucked into your notebook or slipped under your door-single words like "Tuna mayo" or "Kelp," sometimes little doodles of cats or rice balls. At first you thought someone was messing with you, maybe even that the dorm was haunted, but the way his gaze lingered every time you opened one told you exactly who was responsible.

And sometimes, he didn't even bother with subtlety. You'd turn a corner and nearly collide with him, his face inches from yours as he blinked and whispered, "Bonito flakes." Other times you'd sense a presence behind you only to whirl around and find him standing there silently, head tilted, as though he'd been waiting for you to notice.

But no matter how much chaos he caused, his pranks were never actually harmful. In fact, they were almost absurdly careful. Even when he "stole" your food, you'd always find it later on your desk, untouched, like he just wanted to tease you. You couldn't even stay mad. It made you chuckle inside, because this guy... God knows what he's thinking all the time. He was a walking contradiction-mischievous, infuriating, and somehow considerate, all rolled into one.

-

Late night-

"Move over, Y/N!" Yuji complained dramatically, flopping onto the floor beside you with a bowl of popcorn like he owned the place.

"You invited yourself!" you shot back, shoving him half-heartedly while trying not to spill the cards spread out on the carpet.

Panda was on your other side, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. "I told you she was gonna kick you out, Yuji. Give her five more minutes."

"Please, I'm the guest of honor here," Yuji argued, mouth full. "Without me, this game night is nothing but awkward silence."

"Oh, excuse you," Maki said from where she leaned against your desk, smirking. "We had plenty of fun before you barged in."

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor in your dorm, surrounded by bowls of snacks and a half-finished game of cards Panda had brought. Yuji and Panda were both loud enough to scare off the entire cursed spirit population within ten miles, which was probably why Toge - sitting on the corner of your bed with his hood up - hadn't said a single word yet.

But that was normal.

Every time the room erupted into chaos because Yuji lost another round or Panda cheated blatantly, you found yourself giggling before you even realized it.

"Look, look, it's not cheating if I win fairly," Panda said, snatching up more cards.

"You literally looked at my hand!" Yuji accused, nearly spilling his popcorn.

"Bonito flakes," Toge murmured from the bed, sounding suspiciously like he was agreeing with Panda.

You laughed under your breath. Even if he barely talked, Toge always knew when to drop a single phrase that made the room crack up.

For a while, it was easy to forget about everything else.

Until your chest tightened.

It was so sudden - like the air had been sucked out of the room. One second you were laughing at Yuji trying to argue with a panda about card rules, the next you were pressing a hand to your sternum, realizing with a jolt what you'd forgotten.

The pills.

You hadn't taken them today.

Your fingers twitched nervously in your lap as you tried to keep your breathing even. Nobody seemed to notice yet - Yuji was too busy yelling about the unfairness of the game, Panda was howling with laughter, and Maki was filming it on her phone for blackmail purposes.

"I-uh," you said quickly, forcing a smile as you rose to your feet. "Be right back, guys. Don't... don't steal my cards."

"Steal them? Nooo, never," Panda said with a grin so wide you knew your cards would not survive the next thirty seconds.

You slipped out before anyone could ask questions, moving fast down the hall to where your bag was. Your hands shook just a little as you dug out the familiar little box, fumbling with the cap before popping one pill into your mouth.

The relief was almost instant, like your lungs had been given permission to work again.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your back to the wall for a second to steady yourself.

And that's when you saw him.

Toge.

Standing a few feet away, half in shadow like he'd just... followed you out here. Watching quietly, his expression unreadable.

You froze, the pill box still in your hand.

"Oh-uh." You shoved it deep into your pocket and forced a laugh, cheeks hot. "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in there with the rest of them."

He tilted his head, silent.

You scowled to cover the way your pulse stumbled. "Don't just stand there like some kind of stalker, dummy. Geez. Hurry up and go back!"

Still no answer.

So, before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his wrist, tugging him back toward the noise and light like nothing had happened. "Come on. Before Panda eats all the popcorn again!"

For a moment, you felt him hesitate. Just a second.

Then he followed.

Later, when you finally sat back down on the floor, you caught yourself muttering under your breath, "Why does he always follow me... geez..." Your face felt a little too warm as you ducked your head, pretending it was just the heat of the crowded room.

"Okay, guys!" Maki finally said, pushing herself off your desk and stretching her arms overhead, "it's too late now. We should head back to our rooms and let Y/N rest as well."

Yuji immediately groaned, flopping backward onto the carpet. "Nooo, come on, just one more round! I was finally winning!"

"You lost every single round, Give up heh" Panda pointed out, gathering up the cards with a grin.

"No! I'm the guest and due for a win!" Yuji whined.

"Guest of honor my ass..." Maki muttered, but there was amusement in her tone.

You smiled faintly, trying to hide how relieved you were. Your chest still felt tight from earlier, even though the pill had worked. It wasn't the kind of night where you wanted too many eyes on you.

"Alright, alright, get out before Y/N throws us out herself," Panda teased, dragging Yuji toward the door.

Yuji kept up his protests, but he didn't fight too hard. He knew better than to push when Maki gave that look.

Toge stood last, hood slipping a little lower as he moved quietly to follow the others. But just before stepping out, he glanced back at you.

It wasn't long - barely a second - but your eyes met, and something sharp and unspoken seemed to pass between you.

Heat bloomed in your face again. You quickly looked away, pretending to fuss with the popcorn bowl in your lap. Maybe you were just too tired. Yeah. That had to be it.

When the door finally closed and silence settled over your room, you let out a slow breath. The quiet felt heavier than usual.

"...First I'll put these clothes in the laundry," you muttered to yourself, standing and gathering the small pile of dirty uniforms you'd meant to take out earlier. "Then straight to bed."

You carried the bundle to the corner where you always kept your laundry bag and crouched down to shove everything in. But the moment your hand brushed over the pile, you froze.

Your skirt wasn't there.

You frowned, digging through the clothes again, even shaking out a couple of shirts just to be sure. Nothing.

"That's weird..." you whispered, straightening up with a frown. You remembered putting it there. You were sure of it. Before everyone came over, you'd changed out of your uniform and tossed it on top of the pile like always. So where-

You bit your lip, checking under your bed, under the desk, even behind the laundry bag itself. But it was gone.

A long sigh left your mouth as you leaned back against the wall, rubbing your temple. "Ugh. Whatever. I'll look again tomorrow."

Too tired to think about it, you shoved the rest of your clothes into the bag and turned out the light.

-

The next morning after class, you caught Nobara just as she was fixing her hair in the mirror of the girls' bathroom.

"Hey, uh-Nobara?" You lingered by the doorway, shifting awkwardly. "About the skirt I borrowed from you... I'll wash it tonight and give it back, I promise!!"

Nobara turned, raising an eyebrow. "The skirt? Oh, don't worry about it. After class I'll help you look for yours. You still haven't found it, right?"

You hesitated, then shook your head. "No. It's... weird. I thought I put it in the laundry pile, but it's just... gone."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't stress. You can use mine until we find yours. I've got a spare."

Relief warmed your chest, and you smiled gratefully. "Thanks so much, Nobara. Really."

She grinned, flipping her hair back. "Please, it's just a skirt. You owe me coffee though."

You laughed softly and nodded, but as you walked back toward class, your smile faded.

Even though it sounded dumb... the thought kept circling in your head like a stubborn echo.

It's not a prank, right?

Well... That's what you thought...

Until you noticed.

Things weren't where you left them anymore.

At first it was small. Your hair tie - gone from the nightstand. You told yourself you must've misplaced it. Then your favorite socks vanished from the drawer. A week later, you opened your closet and realized a shirt was missing. Not just any shirt. Your underwear too.

You stood in front of the drawer, staring down at the empty space where they should've been, your stomach turning cold.

"...No way." You whispered it out loud, even though nobody was there to hear.

By the end of the week, you'd lost track of how many things had disappeared. You counted once, then twice, then gave up. It wasn't just snacks or drinks anymore - not the harmless little "pranks" Toge used to pull, moving your soda or scribbling notes on your papers. This was different.

This was personal.

You sat with Maki and Nobara one afternoon after training, both of them toweling off sweat. You'd tried to sound casual.

"I think I've been... losing stuff," you said, twisting the hem of your sleeve. "Like, hair ties, socks, some of my... clothes. I don't know. Maybe I'm just tired."

Maki raised an eyebrow, leaning back on her hands. "Hm again? You probably just left them somewhere. Laundry room, maybe? Or the dorm showers?"

"Yeah," Nobara added, shrugging. "I lose socks all the time. They eat them in the dryers or something."

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Right. Probably."

But inside, the words didn't stick. You knew you hadn't left your underwear lying around. You knew you'd folded that skirt and placed it in the laundry bag. And yet, every day the pile seemed a little smaller.

By the third week, you were jumpy, glancing over your shoulder in the hall, clutching your bag a little tighter. Even your sleep started to feel shallow. Every creak of the dorm building at night made your heart kick.

And then there was that feeling.

Being watched.

Sometimes you'd look up during training and see someone at the edge of the grounds. A hood pulled low. A familiar slouch against the wall. By the time you blinked, he'd be gone.

You tried telling yourself it wasn't Toge. That he wasn't that type of guy. That he wouldn't take something so personal and call it a prank. No way. But the thought still wormed its way in, leaving your stomach tight and your throat dry.

By the time the next free night rolled around, you were too tired to even join the others. You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling, your fingers curled into fists.

"I can't..." you whispered to yourself. "I can't keep feeling like this."

It was almost midnight when you finally stood up, grabbed a jacket, and slipped out of your room. The halls of Jujutsu High were silent, dimly lit by strips of yellow light. Your footsteps echoed too loudly in your own ears.

You found Satoru's office door cracked open, a wedge of light spilling into the hall. He was there as always, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, bent over paperwork he probably wasn't actually reading.

You knocked softly. "Sensei?"

He glanced up immediately, grin already forming. "Oh? Y/N. Out late? What's up?"

You hesitated in the doorway, clutching your jacket tighter. "Can I... talk to you? About something weird?"

Gojo straightened, expression flickering at the tone of your voice. "Sure. Come in."

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. The room smelled faintly of coffee and paper.

"I don't even know where to start," you admitted, sitting on the edge of the chair he gestured to. "Um... Things keep... disappearing. My stuff. Not just small things-clothes. Personal stuff. And..." You swallowed hard. "And I keep feeling like someone's watching me..."

Gojo tilted his head, his usual playful smile gone. "Watching you?"

"Yeah." Your hands twisted in your lap. "I thought at first it was just me being forgetful, or tired, or-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head. "But it's not stopping. It's getting worse. And I don't know who else to tell."

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the light overhead. Gojo's gaze sharpened behind his dark lashes.

"Alright," he said finally, voice soft but serious. "Slow down. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything."

"......."

When you finally finished telling everything, you sat there with your shoulders hunched, wringing your hands nervously in your lap. For a while, Gojo didn't say a word, his eyes unreadable behind the lenses of his glasses. Then he leaned back in his chair, the casualness gone from his tone.

"Don't worry," he said, firm, steady. "None of my students would ever stoop to something like that. But-" his expression hardened, "-if someone is messing with you in that way, they'll face the consequences. I'll make sure of it."

The assurance in his voice should have calmed you, and yet your chest still felt tight. Still, you nodded, whispering, "Thank you, sensei," before getting up to leave.

The hall outside was dim, silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears. You were halfway back to your dorm when a shadow moved across the wall.

Your heart jumped into your throat. You spun around, breath catching-

Only to see him.

"Toge-?!" You clutched your chest, nearly stumbling back. "God, you scared me!"

He stood there like he always did, calm, hands in his pockets, violet eyes watching you from beneath his white hair. The faintest tilt of his head, as if asking what you were doing out so late.

"Oi," you muttered, still trying to slow your heartbeat, "what are you even doing here? It's late..."

Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a can. An energy drink. He held it out to you without a word.

You blinked, caught off guard. "...Do I really look that tired?" Your voice wavered between embarrassment and confusion. He didn't answer, of course, but the way he kept his hand extended was enough.

Your cheeks burned. So he noticed?

"I-it's fine, I don't really need-" you started, trying to wave it away, but he pressed it gently into your hand anyway. With no choice, you popped the tab and took a sip. The sweet bitterness stung your tongue.

He didn't move. He just stood there, arms folded now, eyes quietly on you as you drank. Like he was waiting.

"...What?" you mumbled, puzzled under his gaze. But then you realized-he wasn't going anywhere until you finished. He was going to walk you.

When you finally started down the hall, he fell into step beside you. Silent, steady, always half a pace close enough that you felt his presence. It made your thoughts messier with each step. Why is he caring so much?

The question tangled inside your chest until you stopped walking altogether.

"I... I don't want to go to my room..."

Your voice was small, almost swallowed by the quiet corridor. Ofcourse, You were scared. And, He noticed, looking at you with his usual unreadable expression. The two of you stood there in the pale silver glow filtering through the windows.

The moonlight painted everything soft-the floor, the walls, his profile. He tilted his head back slightly, eyes on the sky. For a long time, neither of you spoke.

And strangely, you didn't feel watched anymore. You felt... safe.

But there was something else too. Something building under your skin. The warmth in your chest spread higher, flushing your cheeks. You pressed your palms to your face. What the hell-? Is this because of him? Is it really him making me feel like this?

You dared a glance at him. He was still staring up at the moon, hair glowing faintly in the silver light, calm as ever. The sight of him made your stomach twist, made your heart clench painfully.

Does he feel the same? Does he feel anything like this?

The thought pressed against your ribs until it slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it.

"...I like you..."

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but in the empty hall, it sounded loud. Too loud.

His eyes snapped to you instantly. Wide, surprised. The collar of his uniform still hid his mouth, but... his eyes. They softened, almost curved, as if there was a smile hidden underneath.

The weight of his gaze made you stumble a step back-only to flinch as a sharp pain cut through your skull. Vivid. So vivid it made you gasp.

You swayed, knees nearly buckling, but before you could hit the floor, his arms caught you.

"...!" He didn't speak, but the urgency in the way he lifted you, the tight grip against your back, was enough. He carried you quickly to your dorm, pushed the door open with his shoulder, and laid you gently on your bed.

Your head spun. Your body felt heavy, but not enough to stop you from reaching out, fingers curling into his uniform sleeve. You pulled, desperate, clinging.

"T-Toge..."

Before you could even think, your lips pressed against his. Messy, hot, trembling. You didn't know what came over you-fear, relief, heat, all tangled-but you kissed him anyway.

And he... didn't push you away.

His hands steadied you, holding you close. Then, slowly, he leaned down, his body looming over yours, his lips pressing back against yours with unspoken intensity. No words. Just warmth. Just him.

You didn't even realize when you were naked... but more than that, he was between your legs. His tongue lapping your wetness, exploring every intimate fold. It was all hazy, a blur of intense sensation. His rough stubble brushed against your sensitive thighs as he tasted you thoroughly, sending shivers up your spine.

"Mmh..." Toge purred, his voice vibrating against your most private area. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he continued his oral onslaught.

You whimpered and writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair. He was relentless, his skilled tongue circling your clit before delving inside your aching core. You couldn't hold back the desperate moans spilling from your lips. His hands slid up your body, cupping and kneading your breasts as he feasted on your pussy like a starving man.

Your nipples hardened under his touch, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. You were so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Toge seemed to sense it, doubling his efforts. He sucked hard on your clit while sliding two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right.

With a cry of his name, you came undone. Your inner walls clenched around his fingers as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you. Toge lapped it all up greedily, prolonging your orgasm until you were boneless and sated beneath him.

As you floated down from your high, Toge slowly kissed his way up your body, savoring your taste on his lips. When he reached your mouth, he claimed it in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hard length pressed against your thigh, hot and insistent.

"Toge...-" you whimpered, reaching down to stroke his thick shaft. Toge groaned, thrusting into your hand. He positioned himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging your slick folds.

But then, it all goes blank.

-

When you finally woke up, the light spilling through the curtains was sharp, golden. Your eyes blinked open sluggishly, and when you turned your head to check the clock-your breath caught.

Almost past noon.

You sat up fast, head swimming. What the hell? I never sleep this long...

And then-last night hit you.

Your hand shot up to your lips. Heat surged into your cheeks, into your ears, until you had to cover your face completely. Flashes of memory spilled through your head: his arms catching you, the way you clung to him, the feel of his body pressing against yours, hot and clumsy and real. Did you two.. do it all the way...? You don't remember. But you were back in your clothes and cleaned up, as if he cared...

You squeezed your eyes shut, curling forward. What the hell did I do...

But beneath the embarrassment there was something else. Unease.

He wasn't here. He had left. You hadn't even noticed when. Not a word, not a note.

The thought stung. Why? Was he... mad?

But he couldn't be, right? He hadn't pushed you away. He held you, kissed you back. Did all those things. If he hated it, hated you, he wouldn't have stayed, wouldn't have-

Your chest twisted tighter. You had no answers, only a restless thrum inside your ribs.

You freshened up quickly, barely paying attention to your reflection. There was only one thought in your head: I need to see him. I need to talk to him. Sort this out. Maybe... maybe even ask him out properly this time.

The idea made your stomach flip, but you couldn't back out. Not now.

You hurried out of the dorm, heart hammering, scanning the courtyards until you finally caught sight of him.

There he was.

Toge stood with a few students near the training grounds, his usual relaxed stance, hands in pockets. The sight of him-just him, standing there like nothing was different-made your heart stutter.

But before you could call out, voices floated to your ears.

High-pitched, teasing, lilting with laughter.

"Hey, hey-I heard Y/N confessed to you, Inumaki-kun."

You froze.

The girls giggled, nudging each other. "Seriously? That's hilarious."

Your stomach dropped.

"I mean, come on-he'd never like someone like her."

"Right? Their personalities are like, complete opposites! Pfft-"

"Imagine him actually dating her, though. That's a joke in itself!!"

They laughed louder, and your hands curled into fists.

The words dug into you like thorns. You wanted to shout that they were wrong-that last night had happened, that you weren't imagining things-but your throat was locked tight.

Another girl tilted her head, glancing at Toge with a grin. "Really, Inumaki-kun? You don't like her, right?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. Please. Please, just... say something. Say anything. Defend me. Tell them they're wrong.

He blinked, tilted his head slightly. His mouth moved.

"Fish Flakes."

The girls burst into laughter.

That was it. That was enough.

Your vision blurred as the laughter rang in your ears, sharper than steel. Something in you cracked, splintered. Last night-your confession, the kiss, the warmth of his hands-all of it shattered in an instant.

Why did he stay? Why did he let me cling to him, kiss him, And...and..those... if he didn't feel the same? Was it just a game to him? Another prank?

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think past the sharp pain gnawing at your chest.

Before anyone could see the tears prickling in your eyes, you turned on your heel and ran.

The voices followed you down the corridor, their laughter echoing in your skull until it hurt.

And all you could think was-

He used me.

All this time, he used me...!

-

You left Jujutsu High that very day.

You didn't say goodbye to anyone-not Yuji, not Maki, not Panda. Not him. You couldn't. The only one you faced was Satoru, and even then it felt like your voice wasn't your own when you told him your decision.

"I... I can't do this anymore," you murmured, sitting stiffly across from his desk. "I don't feel safe here. And my health-it's getting worse. Staying here, it might just be a burden... to you. To the school. To everyone."

He'd watched you silently through those tinted glasses, his face unreadable in the heavy quiet.

Finally, he sighed and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "If that's your choice... I won't stop you."

Relief prickled at your chest, though it stung all the same.

"You're on your own now," he added.

It should've sounded like acceptance, but the words felt like a warning. Like a lock snapping shut behind you.

But you didn't want to think about it. You refused to.

And so you left.

-

Time passed. Not years, but long enough. Long enough for the bruises in your chest to fade, long enough for your nights not to be haunted by him, by what he made you feel and then ripped apart.

You were doing well now. Actually... very well.

You had someone.

He wasn't a sorcerer, just a normal guy, someone who couldn't even see curses. Which was why you were always careful around him, always hiding that world away from his eyes. But he was kind. He was warm. He never made you feel small or foolish. He looked out for you, protective in the simplest, most human ways-reminding you to eat, checking that you'd taken your pills, walking you home when it got late.

That was what you loved about him most. That he stayed.

And now it was New Year's Eve. The streets were alive with people, lights glowing warm and bright against the cold. Couples and families rushed past you, arms full of gifts and bags, the buzz of laughter and chatter filling the air.

You pulled your coat tighter around you, phone buzzing in your hand.

Which cake should I get? you typed quickly, ducking into a bakery. Chocolate or strawberry?

The reply came almost instantly. Get both. One for me, one for you. But I'll eat yours too.

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. Idiot.

The chuckle lingered as you stepped back out onto the crowded street, scrolling as you walked, eyes glued to the little glowing screen.

Until-

That feeling.

The sharp, unmistakable prickle along your spine. Like eyes, heavy and unblinking, dragging over your skin.

You slowed, the crowd flowing past you, noise blurring into static.

When you finally lifted your head-

You froze.

No. No, it couldn't be.

But it was.

Toge.

Standing across the street, half-hidden among the throngs of strangers. His hair was longer now, his clothes different, his presence heavier. Older. Changed.

But it wasn't the change that made your stomach twist. It was the fact that he was here. That he was looking at you.

Your breath hitched. No. No, don't do this. Don't look. Keep walking. There's nothing for you here anymore. You don't want to see him, not again. Not ever.

You clenched your jaw and forced yourself to turn, to step forward. Past him. Away.

And then-

"Stop."

Just one word.

The syllable fell from his lips like a command. Like chains snapping around your ankles.

Your legs locked instantly. Your body froze mid-step, every muscle rigid, breath caught halfway in your throat.

You weren't the only one. People around you stumbled to halts too-shoppers with bags, children tugging parents' hands, a man carrying a bouquet. Dozens of strangers suddenly still, as if the whole world had been pinned in place.

Except him.

Toge moved slowly through the frozen crowd, eyes locked on you. Step by step, unhurried.

When he was close enough, you could see it-his smile.

Not the faint, quiet curve you used to glimpse from the corner of your eye when Panda said something stupid. Not the tired half-smile that felt like a secret between the two of you.

No. This was different.

Sharp. Twisted. Creeping up his face like it had been waiting all along.

Your chest constricted. Cold. Terrified.

And you realized-he knew.

He had learned exactly what his voice could do.

And he wasn't afraid to use it.

On you.

[Extra Chapter]

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FACKAAASSSS IM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS RE-UPLOADING SHISSSSS LESSSGOOO🦅🦅🦅

[medicli]

𐔌 . ˚ ALWAYS, FOREVER ┆LOVE & DEEPSPACE ֹ ₊ ꒱

obsessive, possessive & violent—they love you. they’d do anything for you. everything they do is for you because you’re all they need. you can’t leave them, you’re meant to be together always & forever. — wc. 5.8k

STARRING ♱ xavier ⌇zayne ⌇rafayel ⌇sylus ⌇caleb

WARNINGS ♱ HEAVY YANDERE THEMES, DARK CONTENT, possessiveness, obsession, manipulation — (zayne) bsf!zayne, dacryphilia, love bombing, extreme jealousy, mentions of m*rder, cervix fking, rough!zayne — (sylus) needy, pssy drunk!sylus, lots of m*rder lol, cervix fking — (rafayel) STALKER!RAF, mean dom!raf, allusions to unaliving reader’s dates, overstimulation, fear play/kink, creamp¡e — (caleb) lovesick!caleb, established relationship, mentions of caleb unaliving people, secret cameras, MANIPULATIVE!CALEB, isolation, fear kink, use of good girl — (xavier) clingy!xavier, hoovering, established (enmeshed) relationship, baby trapping, false security, backshots — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

KIT’S NOTE ♱ HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BEAUTIFUL LOVES. i hope u all enjoy my first attempt at writing yandere themes (i know some of it isn’t very yandere but whatever). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONSUMING. if you see something that isn’t in the warnings and should be, please let me know :,). also special shoutout to @xinghuisknight for reading xavie’s part and making me continue writing this hc. i love u n happy birthday ior <3 — COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE SOOO APPRECIATED!!

#ZAYNE — MEANT TO BE YOURS

you love your best friend. he’s there for you through thick and thin, steady and unwavering—yet you’re completely oblivious. zayne has loved you for years, ever since the moment he met you. he was never meant to be just your best friend—no, he was meant to be yours. and you were always supposed to be his.

it took everything in him not to break when you got your first boyfriend. he’d fall asleep thinking of you being touched by another man and then he’d dream of all the ways he’d murder him with his bare hands. it drove him mad to share you with someone else, but he wouldn’t lose you. he could never lose you without completely losing himself. 

but then you break up.

you show up at his place with swollen, red lips and tear tracks dried into your skin, eyes dull in a way that makes his chest cave in. he takes one look at you and understands everything without a word.

you don’t have to say a damn thing because he knows you and your boyfriend have been having issues lately—all his fault, of course—so he sets his jaw and lets you in and you tell him everything. you tell him all the mean things he called you, how he hated that you were friends with zayne, how he accused you of cheating.

and zayne’s never killed before, never even seriously imagined it beyond his dreams—but right now, it feels inevitable. that son of a bitch thought he could call you names? accuse you, the sweetest girl to walk the earth, of something so nasty, so despicable… the man that made his pretty girl look like this… he’s already sealed his fate. he’ll be dealt with, but for now… now he has to take care of you.

you’re weeping into his chest, hiccuping while he rubs your back. your broken sobs pull at his heart strings, “h-he said i-i was awful—that–ugh, that he deserved s-someone better.” your hands fist at his shirt in anger and hurt and confusion. “he-he told me to pick b-between you ‘n him.”

zayne freezes, throat running dry. he’d been quiet this whole time, letting you cry it out while he thinks of all the ways he could kill the man, but now, he can’t bite his tongue. “and what did you say?” his heart runs wild as he impatiently waits for the words to slip out of your meek little mouth. 

you look up at him, staring into his jade eyes, noting the way his pupils nearly swallow the pretty color whole. unbeknownst to you, it’s the look of love. pure, unadulterated love. 

“i-i chose you.”

his heart bursts, and he knows it’s wrong—knows he shouldn’t—but he can’t ignore it. years and years of yearning, of aching for even the smallest piece of your love, have made him greedy. he leans in, presses his lips to yours. you tense in shock at first, but he’s so gentle, so careful, that you almost immediately melt into him.

and the longer your lips linger against his, the needier zayne becomes. your mouth parts in a soft gasp, and he takes it as his chance, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

it’s so wrong to take advantage of you like this—that thought rattles endlessly in his mind. but then he hears your moan. then he feels the way you melt against him, comfortable, familiar, almost as if you’ve been imagining this moment for just as long as he has. and after that, he can’t bring himself to stop.

he can’t stop the way he flips you on to your back, or the way he hungrily devours your mouth or the sharp exhales through his nose as he tries to catch his breath without pulling off of you. he needs you. he’s needed you for years.

and now… now he finally has you, and he plans on making you his forever. 

your clothes are off, tears still slipping out of your eyes as your heart aches for him. not your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—but for zayne. for the friend that’s always been so close, yet so out of reach. 

he’s lining his thick, hard cock to your dripping entrance before he stops and looks at you. “i-is this okay?” he asks, voice gruff and heavy. his dark eyes burn into your bloodshot ones and they soften—just the slightest bit. “i know you’re sad, but i-i can make it better. i can fix it. i can make you feel better than he ever has, but you need to tell me it’s okay, sweetheart… please.”

he’s not sure if the beg is for you to say yes, or if it’s a plea for him to finally be let in. maybe it’s both. regardless, when you nod and whisper, “yes, please. make it better, zaynie. please,” everything flies out the window.

all his inhibitions. all the restraint. all the times he bit his tongue and swallowed his wants—gone. along with his ability to be as gentle as you deserve.

“you’re mine.” he pants, cock thrusting into you with vigor. “you’ve always fucking been m-mine.” his hands push at the back of your thighs, pushing them back till your knees knock against your chest. “i’ve loved you—all these years, i’ve loved you.”

your arms wrap around his neck and you sob for a completely different reason now. because you feel so good—he’s so deep and he’s hitting every spot the way it was meant to be hit and he’s saying all these things you’ve wanted to hear for as long as you’ve known him. 

“z-zayne—” you start but it’s cut off by a sharp cry when his cock rams against your cervix. “oh my god!”

“i don’t want to hear you say anything until i’m done—let me finish.” he warns, voice dripping with a newfound resentment. “you were always supposed to be mine, sweet girl. and that… that pathetic excuse of a man took you from me.” he rambles, pounding harder and harder. 

“i took care of you… i-i—fuck, sweetheart, i just love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

and you can’t help yourself. his words make your stomach toss and turn and on his last syllable, you just break. like a dam that’s been filled to the brim, you fall apart right then and there, creaming his cock. 

he groans and it only excites him further. he fucks you through your orgasm, repeatedly hitting the sensitive spongey part with his tip as he leans in close and murmurs. “you were meant for me… made for me.” he says. 

“you were made to be mine.”

#SYLUS — IN MY ROOM

there’s no love purer than sylus’s. he’s said it before—multiple times at that. you were endeared by it. sylus’s gentle touches and soft words despite his frigid exterior. 

but sylus isn’t always gentle touches and soft words. he can be mean, rough… nasty. especially when he finds someone to be a threat. you don’t see it, but he seethes when another person touches you. his heart aches when you’re away. his brain is infested with the thought of you. 

mephisto is so special to him. yes, he loves the mechanical bird, but he loves you more. he’d die without the crow because without him, he can’t keep tabs on you and without his bird’s eyes on you, he spirals out of control. 

your missions are especially hard for sylus. he always makes mephisto go with you because at least then he can tend to business in the n-109 zone while concurrently keeping an eye on you, but this time you refused. words along the lines of “i’ll be back soon–a week max. mephie doesn’t need to come with me.”

and sylus prides himself in being a man that gives his partner the autonomy of choice. he’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to—but he wishes he could. he wishes he could keep you at the base within arms reach. he wishes he could make you leave the association and move out of your tiny, shitty apartment so that you gave him all your attention. he wishes to never be apart from you. 

he never says these things, though. he never wants to be too much—too suffocating, too overbearing. but moments like this make him unravel. when you’re away on missions in distant regions, not answering his calls or texts, and mephisto isn’t there to keep an eye on you, something in him snaps just a little. and sylus gets… a bit unhinged.

or maybe very unhinged. 

sylus is level headed in every sense until it comes to you. he’s even tempered until you’ve gone two weeks without contact. then things get messy. 

every one of his “business” meetings over the two weeks you’re gone ends in bloodshed. sylus kills everyone who looks at him wrong. everyone that tries to lowball him. everyone in his fucking way. 

he’s disheveled when you arrive back at the base. you’re not much better—stress and fatigue etched into your features. you trudge inside, dropping your bags by the door, and when you blink, sylus is suddenly right in front of you.

and you see it. the fear in his eyes.

everything he refuses to say is written there—in his gaze, in the tension of his body, in the way his breaths come uneven, almost staggering, like he’s been holding himself together by sheer will alone.

“where were you, sweetheart?” he whispers, hands cradling your face as he tilts it up to meet his gaze. “when you said a few days, i didn’t think you meant sixteen.” it’s meant to be a joke—but it doesn’t sound like one. not even close.

“the mission ran longer than we anticipated, and there was no cell signal, so i couldn’t get back to you. but i’m okay…” you smile, teasing despite the way the usual light in your eyes has dulled just a bit. “don’t tell me you were worried about me. did the big, bad leader of onychinus really not have anything to keep him busy while i was gone?”

you probably shouldn’t have poked fun. not when he’s this raw. not when he was worried half to death, haunted by the thought that he might never see you again.

it’s exactly how you end up folded in half, knees touching your ears while he fucks into you. it’s not too fast, not too slow, but it’s at the perfect speed. his fat cock fills you to the brim and stuffs your hallowed out stomach. you’ve missed this stretch, this undeniable full feeling and he’s certainly missed you. you can tell in his expression… his words. 

sylus is finally being honest. 

“you can’t just leave me like that, sweetie,” he pants, hands on both sides of your head. “you don’t even know what i’ve been through these past two weeks.”

you feel every ridge of his cock, every inch of him and it drives you up a wall. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. 

“i can’t be good without you… i won’t feel whole without you,” his breathy whispers fan across your face as his red eyes bore into yours. his right eye burns brighter than the darkened left, and you can’t help but stare. “i am nothing without you, my love.”

you inhale sharply—partly from the way his thrusts grow deeper, rougher, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. and partly from his words. from the rawness of them. the desperation. you’ve never heard anything like it before—never from him.

“sylus…” you whimper. 

“i need you.” he says, repeating it like a mantra. he needs you to understand it. “i need you… i need you. if i could keep you in this bed forever, i would. i never want you to leave again.”

that’s when he loses it. the pace of his thrusts pick up and he’s ramming against your cervix, eliciting a sharp sob of pained pleasure from you. he’s completely out of his mind, fucking you sensless like you’re some type of rag doll. 

“you’re not allowed to do that anymore.” he grunts, eyes struggling to stay open as they keep rolling back in the delicious pleasure. he could just fucking die in this pussy and he’d be so content. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t care what happens. “you can’t leave, i won’t allow it.”

your garbled words lace in your words, “i won’t—i-i, i won’t leave—fuh, fuck, sylus—” you promise, your nails digging into his back, leaving red crescents in their wake. “please, s-slow down.”

“shhh, baby, you can take it—you take it every time. so pretty and perfect, all for me.” he presses his forehead against yours and stares at your screwed shut eyes. “my perfect girl.”

you tighten around him, and the sound that tears from both of you is raw and guttural. it’s almost too much—so intense and so good— you can’t help but melt beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful enough to leave you shaking. sylus keeps whispering about how much he needs you, voice breaking in your ear while you convulse and whimper under him.

he presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as your legs wrap tight around his slender waist. he comes deep inside you with broken groans of “i love you” against your mouth, hips stuttering as ribbon after ribbon spills into you.

afterward, he collapses on top of you, cock still hard, but exhaustion has claimed you both. so you just lie there—bodies pressed together, breath slowly evening out, your mixed cum leaking from between your thighs as the moment settles around you.

“i’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

#RAFAYEL — SHE

you’re not usually like this on first dates. you don’t let them take you back to their place and eat you out till you’re in tears. you don’t usually let them fuck you till you pass out. you prefer to take things slow, steady. really get to know someone inside and out before you even let them kiss you. you’re the opposite of easy—you’re hard to get, practically unattainable, but tonight is different.

you’re first date with rafayel makes you feel away you’ve never felt before. it’s like he’s known you for years. he’s already aware of all your ticks, your mannerisms and the things that piss other men off? he welcomes them. he calls it cute. he finishes your sentences like he’s reading your mind. he guesses what your order is at the restaurant you brought him to—your favorite ever—and he guesses correctly. you call it a coincidence, saying he’s perceptive. observant. he’s just into you.

if you were a little less oblivious, you’d know it’s more than a coincidence. you’d know that rafayel has been watching you since long before you met on the stupid dating app. the first time you met wasn’t on bumble. no, you met a year prior—well, he met you.

you’d spilled your coffee outside a cafe next to the art gallery that housed his paintings. you were beautiful. more than that—you were perfect. the way you cursed under your breath. the way you apologized to the asshole who bumped into you in the first place. he was captivated. it was almost like he’d known you in another life.

that’s what had him following you. it was innocent at first—just watching you from afar. you happened to be a regular at the cafe and he took note of that. he’d watch you for hours type away at your laptop, drank in the way you’d gnaw at your lip and the pinch of your eyebrows every time you got frustrated, or every time your lips would twitch when you would find something amusing. 

innocent. 

then it turned to something more than that. rafayel found himself following you home. watching you change in your window, blinds wide open like you want someone to catch you. 

and then he got addicted to it—watching you. following you. memorizing your schedule and routine. it made him hard to watch you. to think about what you smell like… what you taste like… how pretty you’d look crying on his dick. every night he’d go home to his place, wrap a hand around his leaky, aching cock and stroke himself to the mental image of you he’s burned into his brain. 

he barely slept. he’d stay up late into the night and paint you. he’s memorized you. every curve. every strand of hair on your head. every feature—they’re all filed away in his brain. 

his last straw comes when he watches you go on date after date, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides. thanks to him, you’ve never gone on more than one date with the same man. they’re nobodies. wastes of space. he’s looked into every single one of them, and not one is worthy of you—so they don’t deserve a place in your life.

he knows you’re meant to be with him. he’s always known. and that’s when he finally takes matters into his own hands and downloads the dating app.

that’s essentially how you end up in your current position, throat hoarse from all your screams of pleasure. you’re overstimulated, pussy sore, but he keeps going. fucking you into oblivion. after all, he’s waited for this for a whole year.

your ankles rest on his shoulders while your hands cover your sweaty, heated face, his cock fucking you fast and deep the same way it has been for the past hour and a half. 

“raf—hgnh, rafayel! p-please, oh my god,” you cry, your voice breaking as you beg for mercy. “i can’t take it—please, please.”

he groans, length twitching inside of your sensitive pussy at the sound of your pleads. “but you feel so good, cutie,” he responds breathlessly, a teasing lilt in his voice before it drops—lower, darker. “do you know how long i’ve waited for this?”

you whimper, panting out a confused, “wh-what? you waited all night for this?”

he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it sounds strained. almost pained. he shakes his head and leans in to whisper, “no, silly girl. i’ve waited months for this.”

your eyes shoot open and you look into his. the twinkle that was there when he’d introduced himself to you earlier this evening is replaced with thunderstorms. newfound darkness. it makes your body lock up in fear, pussy tightening around him. this brings a wicked smile to his face. 

“don’t be scared, pretty. i’ll take good care of you.” he swears, wrapping his hands around your ankles, fingers so gentle on your skin. “i’m the only one who can take care of you… the only one who deserves you.”

you’re not sure why your fight or flight never kicks in. it should—everything about this is fucked beyond belief. your date—the one you’ve only just met—knows you. has known you for months. maybe longer.

but your stomach still flutters. maybe you like it. like whatever… this is. maybe you’re drunk on the feeling, but his words only sink deeper, winding tight and turning you on even more. your back arches, a sharp, helpless moan tearing from your throat, loud enough to mix with the wet sounds of his hips snapping against yours.

“you like that, huh?” he taunts. “‘m gonna make you fall for me. take such good care of you that you’ll never be able to think of anyone but me ever again.”

“oh, fuck,” you sob. “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. raf, fuck!”

“yeah, go ahead and cream my cock again, princess. it’s yours. i’m yours.” the pace of his thrusts quickens, each snap more frantic than the last, and his words hitch on a breathy whimper—an unmistakable sign that he’s close too. “i’m all yours—and you’re mine now. i-i won’t let you get away that easy.”

the knot in your stomach snaps, exploding all at once as you drench his cock in syrupy arousal. your body jerks uncontrollably for the nth time, thrashing beneath him, and he’s the only thing keeping you steady—anchoring you as it rips through you.

“i’m gonna cum inside—i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum and make you mine,” he doesn’t ask—it’s a statement. he’s just telling you, and you don’t protest. not even a little.

you take it. you let him fill you all the way up, feel his cock throb and twitch wildly and take every drop of cum, giving it a home in your cunt. he groans so prettily and you whimper at the warmth blooming inside of you. 

“you’ve always been my girl and now i have proof.”

#CALEB — STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

caleb is sick. so lovesick it’s twisted him into someone almost unrecognizable. he’s no longer the sweet boy from your childhood—no. now that caleb is yours and you are caleb’s, you’ve seen what lives beneath the cracks in his carefully kept exterior. he hides cameras in your apartment. he tracks you constantly. he’s planted a fear so deep in you that if you’re ever caught with someone else—friend or not—while ignoring his texts or calls, something very bad will happen.

in short, caleb would kill for you. you’re pretty sure he already has.

you love him—you love your caleb more than anything. he’s your sun. he treats you like a princess. he makes you feel whole. and yet, his actions terrify you. you can’t leave him, even though you know, deep down, you probably should. you should run. people have told you to run. simone, especially. but leaving would break both of you.

you make it a rule not to talk about caleb in your home when friends are over, because you know he’s listening. but when simone comes by, she can’t help herself.

“you need to leave him,” she says out of the blue and your blood goes cold. “[name], he’s basically holding you hostage—you only ever talk to caleb, i haven’t seen you outside of the association in weeks.”

“he’s not holding me hostage, simone,” you sigh, praying she drops it. you know she wants the best for you, but you don’t want to have this conversation right now. “can we not talk about him?”

“i’m just saying, [name], he’s sick. i think there’s something wrong with him and i just want you to be careful.” she says before grabbing her bag to leave. 

—

caleb’s eyes are red when you see him at your doorstep two hours later. you pull him in and you know what’s wrong… you know he heard your chat with simone. you know he’s in his head, spiraling out of control. 

“baby,” you murmur, pulling him by the wrist inside your place. “come on, come inside.”

he doesn’t even let you explain—the second he’s inside and the door is shut, he’s on you. his big, strong arms hoop around your body and pull you against him. your inhaling his natural musk and he’s buried in the crook of your neck apologizing profusely. 

“i’m sorry i can’t be what you need,” he says, shakily. the words breaking your heart as you run a soothing hand up and down his broad back. “i don’t deserve you, pips, but please… please don’t leave me. i need you.”

you embrace him tightly, “oh caleb,” your sad voice just barely above a whisper. “caleb, ‘m not—i won’t leave you.”

he pulls away from your neck, violet eyes turned dark purple when you see them for the second time. “promise?”

you nod wearily, but still, with no hesitation, reply with, “promise.”

and then he’s kissing you. soft at first, then it’s rough. so rough that it almost gives you whiplash. he’s kissing you, tongue roaming your mouth while he guides you to your bedroom, whimpering into your mouth. 

you’re thrown off when he gently shoves you against the bed. you stumble with a gasp and take in the shift in his demeanor. caleb looks mean. the boyfriend that was crying into your neck, begging you not to leave him looks nothing like the man that towers over you. 

he’s slow when he unbuttons his pants and when he pulls off his shirt. he stares at you, clocking every movement of your body— the increasing rate of which your chest rises and falls, the way there’s a sense of fear paired with excitement swimming in your pretty eyes—his eyes never leave yours.. 

“you understand that you can’t leave me, right?” he says, voice low. “that you can never leave me?” he says, stalking towards you slowly.

you nod and he shakes his head. “say it.” his sweet voice drips with dominance. “fucking tell me you understand.”

your breath hitches as his hands begin to strip your clothes off. “i-i understand. i won’t leave you.” 

“good girl,” he murmurs, continuing to work your clothes off till you’re in nothing but cotton panties. “you wanna know why you can’t leave?” he joins you on the bed, spreading your legs open and occupying the space between them.

you nod and he simply slips your panties to the side, gathers your arousal on the tip of his cock—effectively leaving you breathless in anticipation—before he presses into you, the fat tip of his length stretching you open. 

“because you need me.” he grunts, shoving himself inside of you and watching you crumble so pathetically. “your heart needs me, your body needs me… and this pretty pussy, baby? yeahhh, she needs me the most.” 

“caleb!” you gasp, feeling his cock deep in your stomach. “oh, fuck, caleb, w-wait— ‘s too deep.”

“it isn’t,” he growls, thumb catching your swollen clit. “nah, just fuckin’ take it, pretty girl. take this dick ‘n tell me you need it.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a guttural moan. his cock pulls all the way out till his tip is the only inch that peeks inside your tight cunt, before he slams back into you, getting you addicted to him all over again. 

“oh my god, please!” you beg when he does it again and again at a monotonous pace. “please, please, caleb, i need it—i need, hah! i need it—need you, caleb.”

the sound that erupts in his chest is practically animalistic. his hand wraps loosely around your throat before his lips press against yours again. is sloppy, uncoordinated—a string of spit connects your lips when he pulls a few centimeters away. 

caleb leans in close, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moves against you, each word timed with a rough, unrelenting thrust. “you. need. me.” his grip around your throat tightens, certainty ringing through him as he repeats it like a promise—or maybe… maybe it’s a warning. “you need me. you’ll always need me, no one else.”

tears prick in your eyes at the pained pleasure shooting through your body. he squeezes your throat tighter, watching your eyes roll in ecstasy. so pretty and so fucked out and so his. you’re perfect. he can never let you go. he won’t. 

how could he when you were meant to be together forever?

#XAVIER — ALWAYS BE MY BABY

you knew xavier was a little… toxic, to put it lightly, when you agreed to be his girlfriend. you knew he was possessive by nature—clingy, territorial, cruel to every man who so much as looked at you for a second too long. and you told yourself you were okay with it. you thought you were okay with it.

but lately, it’s gotten worse. suffocating. you feel like you’re shrinking inside your own life, like there’s no space left that belongs solely to you. every choice, every breath, every step forward is taken with xavier beside you—and it’s too much. it’s all too much.

so when you finally sigh, the words slipping out before you can stop them—“we need to take a break”—he cocks his head, confused.

it’s like a predator’s curiosity.

because… what does that mean? a break from what, exactly? from work? from the hunter’s association?

“what do you mean?” he asks, all wide-eyed and innocent—and that’s what upsets you the most about xavier. he doesn’t realize there’s something wrong with him. he can’t see that the way he feels about you, the way he claims you, has long since crossed the line from devotion into something deeply almost frighteningly abnormal.

you let out a shaky exhale and avert your eyes, sight landing on your feet. “i mean… i think i need to take a break from… you. and you need a break from me…” when you look up, his confused face is gone, replaced with a hardened glare. “we just need space to be our own—“

“no,” he cuts you off, voice nearly robotic when he responds. “no, i don’t need space—i need you. i don’t need a break… i just want to be with you.”

you knew this was coming. you knew he’d try to convince you that you were inevitable—meant and written into each other’s bones. so you sigh and choose honesty, even though it hurts him.

“i love you, xavie. i do. i want to be with you, but…” your voice wavers despite yourself. “…you’re scaring me.”

and something in his eyes goes dark. the familiar starlight you’re used to seeing there fades, thinning until it’s almost gone. “i…” he swallows, disbelief softening his voice in a way that unsettles you. “i scare you?”

“w-well, no—you don’t scare me, scare me,” you rush out, already trying to soften the blow. “you just… you worry me. i’m scared you’re too dependent on me. you chase off every man that looks my way, you’re everywhere i am—” your breath stutters. “it’s just too much for me.”

he stalks towards you and every step he takes forward, you take one back till your back hits his kitchen island. you gasp as he cages you in, arms on both sides of your body. he leans in, cobalt blue eyes swallowed by his dilated, black pupils. 

you try to hold your breath, but it’s useless—your senses are flooded with him. he’s all you can see, all you can smell. his scent rattles your brain in a way nothing else ever has, too much of it sinking into you like a drug. and no matter how hard you try to keep your thoughts clear, your resolve unravels when you feel arousal pool low in your belly, heat blooming as it glues your panties to your core.

“you’re all i need… and i should be all you need,” he says, voice dark as it drops octaves lower than its usual range. his eyes bore into yours, lips tugging up ever so slightly. “don’t be scared, angel. you know i’d never hurt you, right? you know all i want is to love you. i’d do anything to keep you all to myself.” 

it feels like he’s putting you under some kind of spell. you dig your heels in mentally, forcing yourself to remember why you came here—to stand your ground, to leave, to not fold.

you try to break eye contact, but he won’t let you. his fingers close around your chin, firm and unyielding, pulling your attention right back where he wants it. “no, look at me, honey.” he says, voice low. “answer me: you know i’d never hurt you, right?”

he makes you nod with the grip on your chin. “i-i know.” you reply, voice cracking and stomach jostling. 

“you’re safe with me. you’ll always be safe with me.” he says, a smile touching his lips. he leans it, nose brushing against yours as he says, “we’re going to be together forever and ever. i’ll show you.”

—

xavier wastes no time flipping you over and bending you over the island, your face smooshed against the cool marble. your leggings are pulled down and his cock is inside you, exploring every single inch of your cunt with no barrier. you can’t find it in you to protest for him to wear a condom when you feel fuller… when he somehow feels even bigger. 

drool seeps from your lips, pooling on the smooth surface as he fucks you senseless almost as if he has something to prove in his thrusts. 

he pushes deep into you, grinding his tip against your sweetest spot. “you feel me, honey? feel how i’m fucking you raw?” he grunts the words out, one hand on your waist as the other splays between your shoulder blades. “this is how we’re gonna do it from now on, got it?”

your eyes roll, pussy clamping tight around him. the veins of his cock brand themselves into your walls. he’s ruining you for everyone else. marking his territory. 

you can’t even respond—the only noises that can be pulled from you are garbled moans of his name and choked sobs. you’re a complete and utter mess, reduced to nothing but tears, drool and arousal. 

he resumes his thrusts, pulling out and ramming back into you. “fuck you raw, fill you with my cum and get you pregnant.” he whispers and it has your eyes shooting open, your stomach hallowing out and your cunt gripping him like never before.

“w-what?” your broken voice rings in his ears and it elicits a little moan from him. his cock twitches wildly inside of you, balls drawing up by the lilt of panic in your voice. “wait—wait, xavie, ‘m, hah! shit, ‘m not on the pill. y-you can’t cum i-inside!”

he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle. “don’t worry, honey,” he says, voice steady. “i’ll take care of you—of us. you just take it. be good and take it because it’s what you’re made for.”

and you do. you give in just like he tells you to, fingers digging into the edge of the countertop as your body betrays you. each movement pulls a sharp, helpless sound from your throat, clipped moans spilling out of you as easily as the warmth gathering between your thighs.

“i promise, this–this… will make us closer,” he pants, thrusts getting quicker as he gets closer and closer to letting go. he’s on the precipice of an orgasm, length throbbing, tummy knotting up. “just hold still.”

then you feel the sudden warmth flooding your pussy. he’s shooting into you, ribbon after ribbon of warm cum while he groans prettily in your ear. it triggers your orgasm, your body convulses as your walls spasm and drench his cock in your slick. 

“now we’ll be together forever.” 

© all works belong to MEDICLI 2026. do not copy or repost.

[pearlescenthoney]

spring’s blessing

synopsis. what starts as a curious night encounter quickly darkens into a sinister seduction. rafayel, an ambiguous being of pale beauty and a toxic, possessive longing, uses his charm, his nectar-laced touch, and his otherworldly powers over water to strip away his visitor's will. he is of the spring and so will you.

pairing. nymph! rafayel qi x mercenary! reader

content/mdni. fantasy/medieval era. non-canon. DUB-CON (coercion/aphrodisiac). fem!reader, mercenary!reader, strong!reader, nymph!rafayel, YANDERE!RAFAYEL, possessive!rafayel, pervert!rafayel, obsessed!rafayel, not-right-in-the-head!rafayel, aphrodisiac-like saliva, a lot of solo masturbation (m receiving), fingering, clit stimulation, tit stimulation, MONSTER-FUCKING (long tongue, webbed hands, ton of cum, big cock), pussy eating, tongue-fucking, teasing, dirty talk, praise, pet name (human, my female human), tummy bulging, water manipulation, kind of public sex (the nymphs might be watching!!), MATING PRESS, raw sex, creampie, a lot of cum, CHOKING, kissing, A TON OF PLOT (sorry i had fun).

word count. 7.4k

a/n. this idea bloomed thanks to @yuunileb and our nasty talks about supernatural beings. rafayel is kind of spoiled and doesn’t understand humans that well here. also, it’s not an accurate portrayal of nymphs, so don’t read too much into it! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

the first thing rafayel knew was the water of the spring — a womb of liquid sunlight and silver bubbles, hugging him tightly and motherly. his small infant body formed from the very essence of the water. his skin, the pale hue of moonlit lilies, was brushed by the hum of the spring, carefully parting around him to reveal his birth.

he burst forth from the spring’s embrace one afternoon, in a high-pitched giggle.

“a new nymph!”

rafayel’s first memory was of his sisters’ hands — dozens of them — cradling his tiny form, their voices whispering like rushing water.

“ah, gods, is that–?”

“male? male.”

rafayel became the only male nymph the spring had ever produced, a curiosity in a world of females. despite his… uniqueness, he wasn’t shunned or marginalized.

the loving nymphs welcomed him with open arms.

his sisters swarmed him instantly, their hands soft and curious as they touched his blushy face, his chubby arms and legs, plucking him from the birthing waters of the spring and twirling him up in the air.

“he is so beautiful.” one whispered, her voice like the haste of rivers over stones. “his hair is like wild irises.” another chimed in, caressing his short strands of hair with admiration.

the nymphs raised him in a world of unrestrained adoration.

when he was just a toddler, stumbling on plump legs, his sisters would clap and cheer, their laughter like tinkling stream stones. they’d place wildflowers in his silken purple hair, kissing at his round cheeks with joy each time he took a step unattended.

“raffy, our cutie nymph!”

his sisters cherished him. they would sit him by the water’s edge, their laps full of flowers picked from the banks. the oldest nymph would take a wood-carved comb and gently untangle his long hair, her fingers gentle yet sure against his amethyst locks.

“you are special, rafayel.” she whisper-sung, her breath cool against his temple. “the spring has never made a male before.”

another sister would adorn his hair with a flower crown — he could wear it comfortably now that he was older — weaving white water lilies and blue bells into it. “you are our precious little brother.” she said, her eyes shining with love.

“the prince of the spring.”

as a child, he would actively participate in his sisters’ activities. rafayel’s slender fingers, tipped with a faint pearlescence, would move with a mesmerizing grace. he’d weave stems together, his touch causing the buds to unfurl obediently, their colours deepening.

“a crown for you, my dear sister.” he would sing-song, his voice the sound of water slipping over smooth pebbles, still soft and delicate. he’d place a circlet of dove-grey hellebores upon one head.

“and for you too, tara.” this one of violets so deep they were nearly black.

he saved the most vibrant for last, crowning his own twilight hair with a riot of primrose and celandine, mirroring the sun he truly loved and adored.

in his adolescence, the spring was his canvas.

with a laugh that rippled the surface, he’d splash at his sisters, the droplets hanging in the air like scattered diamonds before falling. he would press his palm flat against the water and draw it upwards in a shimmering, impossible arc, a liquid sculpture that held its shape for a breathless moment before collapsing with a sigh.

he’d trace spirals and lazy, intertwining patterns on the surface, symbols that glowed with a faint bioluminescence before fading, as if the water itself was fainting at his command.

life itself came to him.

ducklings, a fuzzy, cheeping convoy, would paddle fearlessly between his legs, quacking at him to join the waters. he’d submerge himself until only his strange pink eyes were visible, watching them round around the spring with their tiny, webbed feet, following behind in low strides.

swans, those haughty monarchs, would bend their necks for him to stroke. sometimes he’d even challenge them, disturbing their peace with one of his games. he’d surge from the water, scattering light, and race them across the water-meadow, his feet leaving no imprint on the tender grass, his laughter mingling with their harsh, musical cries.

he was faster, a streak of lilac and pearl blooming in his wake, but he always let them believe they could win.

just so they would return to play with him.

•••

as he grew, so did his beauty. his hair fell like a waterfall of mauve down to his torso, shimmering in the dappled sunlight. his eyes, the color of blushing roses, contrasted strangely against his now piercing masculine features.

as he grew, so did his manly body.

he had no longer a soft and squishy flesh, like his sisters, but a hardness and sharpness unfit for the gentleness of the spring. his height tripled, his shoulders broaden; his chest and hips never widened, but something else beneath his loins disrupted the order.

he loved his sisters and the spring, the welcoming flowers and the occasional animal companions stumbling into their part of the forest.

but sometimes, in the quiet of evening, loneliness crept in like mist.

why did the spring birth a male nymph like himself?

why did his reflection look less and less like his sisters’ as the seasons passed?

why did he feel… unfit for the world he adored?

the water did not answer. it only held him, shimmering, silent.

•••

his body began to change drastically at around the same time the first blood-blossoms of a cherry tree burst from its bark. rafayel, now what the forest would have called an adult, felt a strange tightness in his lower belly, a throbbing heaviness beneath the leaves and water lilies that covered his hips.

he had worn them since birth, as all nymphs did — not as clothing, but as a part of themselves, a living crown of foliage that wrapped around his body on its own accord.

one afternoon, while basking on a sun-warmed rock at the spring’s edge, he ran his hands over his stomach and pressed.

“a-ah.”

the tightness in his tummy was worse: it felt like a knot of rope, hard and hot. he pushed the leaves around his crotch aside, curious about his uneasiness.

beneath, his body had transformed. where there had been only soft, flaccid flesh before, now there was a rigid, swollen length of pale flesh, stiff and unyielding. it was heavy. it was wet at the tip, a gleaming pearl of slick moisture beading there and drooping along the underside veins.

he touched it, and a jolt — electric, painful and pleasurable — shot through him. he jerked his hand away, breath hitching.

“what is this?” he whispered to the empty air.

he touched it again, more lightly this time, and the jolt returned, a warm feeling spreading up his spine. he decided to stroke it, up and down, up and down, trying to get out the strange sticky substance.

perhaps he has been poisoned.

but the warmth in his belly intensified. his thighs, too, tensed the more his hand moved on it, jutting the shaft up into his fist with vigour.

“oh-ooh–”

he felt his heart beating in his ears, as more and more creamy liquid seeped out of his mushroomy tip. the painful pull in his groin became a pressure, a craving he had no name for.

he needed to investigate further.

•••

that night, he slipped away from his slumbering sisters, drifting to a hidden nook of the spring, shielded by willow trees. the moon was a sliver of pearl overhead, mirroring the beads of precum still pumping out of his slit.

as he sat in the shallows, water lapping at his thighs, he took his swollen, throbbing flesh in his hand once more.

“ah…”

he tugged, tentative at first. then harder. the pleasure-pain flared, and his breath hitched.

he pumped his hand, fisting the hard, aching length in a rhythm he instinctively craved. his whole body bunched tight, muscles flexing. the tightness in his groin built to a peak, a torrent of heat and need. he felt on the brink of something — some release — so he kept fisting, harder, faster, until his knuckles ached and the skin of his cock turned raw.

he panted, eyes squeezed shut, as ropes of that sticky substance finally splashed away into the rushing waters.

“w-why?” he groaned, letting go abruptly, his softening member dropping heavily against his thigh. “what is wrong with me?”

his question was to receive an answer sooner than he’d have expected.

•••

it was his sister tara, the one who twisted lily crowns for his hair. she was taken by a man — a human hunter who stumbled upon the spring one rainy twilight.

“she has been… enchanted.” his oldest sister said, her voice careful as she recounted the incident. “the man loved her beauty, so she has gone with him.”

“enchanted?” rafayel asked, the word strange on his tongue.

humans possessed such magical abilities?

“a tie that binds. a wanting that is not adoration, but… lust.” her eyes filled with sadness and shame, as if the topic itself make something inside her twist in pain; she knew she’d never see tara again. that’s how it usually goes.

“he wants her to be his alone.”

a hole tore itself open in rafayel’s chest at his sister’s sorrow, understanding the heaviness of the situation as she hugged her own stomach unconsciously. that enchantment she was speaking of must have a connection with the weird coil his own body was fostering in his belly.

poor sister tara.

but beneath the grief, something else sprouted inside rafayel — a hunger, thick and hot.

that night, in his hidden spot, his hand on his cock, he didn’t jerk off to relieve the pain. he pumped his fist, his eyes closed, and imagined.

he imagined a human woman. he had never seen one, but his mind built her after the few men he’s observed, focusing on the soft, warm flesh. you would stumble into his spring, your skin pearled with sweat and sunlight, seeking fresh water for your journey.

then you would see him and not look away.

you too would be enchanted.

he pictured your blown-out eyes gazing at him, hand reaching out, touching his hair, his face. “take me!” you would plea so beautifully, your human voice contrasting with the sound of the spring.

“you are mine.” he whispered back to the fantasy, his hand flying along his dripping length with hurried moves as he pictured himself dragging you down into the waters. “you came here for me.”

the pleasure that night was intense, primal. he groaned, his head thrown back against the willow’s trunk as he thought of you more. he imagined you arched beneath him, his body between your thighs, your heartbeat matching his.

rafayel imagined you begging him to release the ache in your own tummy. he imagined filling you, overflowing you, marking you with his seed.

“inside.” he hissed, hips jerking into his fist faster, biting his lips at the delicious image in his head. “inside you.”

his release burst in a white, hot stream that spattered on his stomach and the surface of the humming water.

once more, his cum was wasted.

but now, with an actual goal in mind… that was to change.

•••

after that epiphany, his whispers to the spring were no longer for flowers or playful ducks. he passed the meadow where his sisters would sit, and he would ask the sunlit water about you.

“when? when will she come?”

he watched the tree line, where the world of the spring met the mortal pathway.

he saw more and more humans — always men. soldiers in battered mail, their boots heavy with mud. hunters with bows, their eyes hard and scanning the trees for game. merchants, their voices gruff and filled with practicality. they traveled in groups, singly, or in pairs.

but never, not once, did he see a woman.

“why?” he asked his sister one evening, his voice thin with a longing he laid bare. “i see them. the men. but the women — they do not come.”

was his wish just–

“are there no human women?”

fingers paused in his hair, where his sister was weaving sprigs of crocus.

“there are.” she said, her tone gentle but unyielding. “but they do not travel the land like men, rafayel. their fate is different. they are kept, in their homes, in their villages. the world outside is for male feet.”

he recoiled at that, eyes full of bewilderment. “kept? like caged birds?”

“they call it protection.” she sighed, her eyes gloomy with disdain. “it is their way.”

the words should have cured him of this nonsensical desire. but instead, they fed the hunger bubbling deep down. if human women were so closely guarded, so rarely seen… then any woman who did stray near his spring would be more than rare.

you would be unique. just like him. the spring’s special offering.

he grew more... persistent. his jerk-off sessions, always in that same hidden spot, became rituals. he would close his eyes, take his aching cock in hand, and pray to the spring.

let her be lost.

let her fall in.

let her come to me.

his hand moved faster and faster, his release rippling through him like a peak of thunder. he spilled his cum into the spring every night, watching it spread like a perfect, ephemeral lily.

“come to me.” he breathed, his fantasy a painting bright in his mind. “stay with me. be enchanted by me. forever. be mine, and mine alone.”

the spring offered no answer, as usual. but the water seemed to hold his seed, to swallow it into its depths as if making a promise. rafayel smiled at that, his heart pounding with excitement — the spring did miracles like himself, so it will not ignore his pleas for a woman.

he would wait. he had all the time in the world. and when you do finally come, he would never let you go.

“come, my stunning human.”

his sisters would never understand. but you would. you would be his first, his only, his true treasure.

and the spring, and rafayel, would keep you for eternity.

•••

a few nights passed and something finally happened.

“go clean yourself!”

when the men’s voices carried over the hills, spiky with laughter and the smell of campfire, all the nymphs but one fled. they burst into a storm of echoing splashes and flashes of pale body, dissolving into the springs and trees, leaving no trace behind.

afraid to follow tara’s footsteps.

only rafayel remained embodied. he sank deeper into the spring, his purple hair floating above him like a weed beneath the surface, his pink eyes peering through the rippling curtain of water.

“go, the nymphs won’t mind a woman.”

woman?

rafayel first heard your footsteps as you approached, sensed your fatigue, your tension, the coppery tang of blood still drying on your skin.

and then you stripped right at the edge of the spring.

your loose shirt, bespoke with the smell of sweat and dust, slipped off your shoulders. your dagger, placed on a nearby rock. your hands — strong, scarred, yet undeniably feminine — moved to undo the bonds of your trousers, to let them fall to the damp moss. then your underthings, flimsy and functional, followed.

woman.

he watched, his eyes unblinking. he saw your bare back, the curve of your spine, the shadowy nipples and the soft curve of your breasts as you turned, scanning the tree line. he saw your legs, strong and cut with human muscles, and a new scar crackled across your thigh, a fresh red line of violence.

his woman.

your body was not like his sisters’. it was not a dream of pale silk and woven flowers. it was real. real and warm, flesh and sweat, dust and blood. your skin bore the stories of a life lived on the road — wind-chapped knuckles, a bruise blooming like a rose on your ribcage.

you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

he sank lower still as you stepped into the spring, water lapping at your ankles, then your calves, then your knees. you gasped, a sharp, brief sound that was picked up by his pointy ears.

the water was cold, and it made your nipples perk and your skin prickle with bumps.

so beautiful.

“oh, so relaxing.”

you sighed, letting the chill wash over you, and slunk deeper, until the water cleansed the dried blood from your ribcage, leaving it clean and smooth in the moonlight.

your arms moved over your skin, scrubbing away the dirt and grime of a week on the road. your eyes closed, a pleasured smile touching your lips as the water’s coolness began to soothe your aches. then you washed your hair, tilting your head back, your throat bare, your breasts breaking the surface of the spring.

offering him the image of a goddess.

so fucking beautiful.

rafayel watched, and his cock, hidden beneath the foliage at his loins, stirred. it swelled, hardened, became heavy and aching in the cold water. the tightness in his stomach returned; that hot, throbbing need called for you.

you were here.

you were real.

and he would have you.

he swayed in the water, his hair floating like a mantle of living vines. he began to move forth, sliding soundlessly through the deeper channels, gliding toward you. the water parted the flora for him, its undulation responding to his will.

his pinkish eyes were fixated on your captivating form.

you were standing waist-deep in the spring, your arms stretched towards your back, scrubbing at a stubborn spot, when a shiver ran down your spine. you stilled, your sharp eyes opening to scan your surroundings.

you stared at the water around you, then down, into the darkness.

you saw nothing but your own reflection, the sky above, the dark bottom.

“hello?” your voice came out soft, uncertain, testing for danger.  

it was probably a curious nymph, nothing too alarming… yet you turned, slowly, your hands raising to your sides, prepared to equip your dagger. it was probably a curious nymph, but you didn’t know their intentions towards you.

he ruptured through the surface a few feet away, his hair pouring down his back like a waterfall of purple and silver. the moonlight glinted off his skin, off the foliage around his hips, off the slender plane of his chest.

you stumbled back at his appearance, sloshing the water, your dagger clumsily slipping from the rock straight into the waters. your eyes wide, your mouth opening to let out a breathy curse.

“fuck.”

there goes your protection.

you were bracing for impact, hands drawn to your chest, fighting stance ready. but then you saw his hair, his face — a strange, exquisite beauty, soft and yet sharp.

oh, what a fascinating nymph.

…you thought he was a woman. so your fear melted slowly, replaced by innocent interest, even a touch of awe. you’ve never encountered nymphs, especially not this up close.

“so mesmerizing.”

he smiled at your compliment, a small, gentle quirk of his rosy lips. he tilted his head, showing you the expanse of his neck, the fine bones of his collarbones. making himself look harmless and naïve by showing you his vital points.

he floated closer, the water moving with him, swirling in lazy, hypnotic circles.

“hello…” he said, his voice the melodious sound of a stream cascading over smooth stones. it was a sound that captivated, that soothed, that wrapped around your mind.

it did wrap around yours.

you did not run, you did not fight. you stayed, your heart beating fast with uneasiness, but your body deciding to trust. your hands dropped without a second thought, letting your arms hang at your sides, combat long forgotten.

“who… who are you?”

he was close now, so close you could see the fine droplets of water on his eyelashes, the pale pink of his lips. the way sharper teeth poked from beneath.

he reached out, his webbed hand trembling slightly.

not in fear, but in excitement.

he touched your cheek, his webbed fingertips as cool as the spring water, yet underneath them you felt a hidden heat. you shuddered, not because of the cold, but from something else. your skin prickled, your nipples tightening again. even your breath hitched at the contact of his soft skin with your warm face.

why was your body reacting like that?

“i am rafayel.” he cooed, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i am of the spring. and you are mine.”

your eyes widened at the last part, the threat-like affirmation making your pulse spike. you tried to step back, but the water beneath you suddenly felt thick, like molasses. it held you in place, sweetly, cruelly.

“w-what?” your voice was but a gasp, trembling as you tried to free yourself from the clutches of the spring.

nuh huh, he won’t allow that.

he moved closer, his body gliding against yours underwater. the proximity made you suddenly hyperaware of this strange nymph… he was taller than you, his shoulders broader. you felt his chest against your nipples, noting the contrast of his flat, sturdy muscles against your soft, swelling flesh.

your nipples rubbed against him, and a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through you.

wait, flat? could she– he…?

rafayel smirked, his mischievous pink eyes gleaming in the moonlight. he slid his hand down your arm, then up again, over your shoulder, to the nape of your neck. he tilted your head back, exposing your throat.

“do not be afraid.” he murmured, his breath a cool mist against your pulse point. “i will not hurt you. i have been waiting for you.”

“waiting?” your voice came out as a whisper, terror washing your expression with every word of his. “how?”

“the spring knows.” he said, his lips brushing your jaw now. “the spring wanted you here. with me.”

and with that, he kissed you.

it was not a gentle, tentative kiss. it was deep, possessive, wet with the taste of the waters and something sweeter. your mouth opened under his ministration, and he took advantage, his long tongue exploring you, tasting you.

feeding you his saccharin saliva and making you dizzy with want.

you felt yourself melting into the kiss, your knees growing weak against his rigid body as your tongue was wrapped in his longer wet muscle.

as more of his saliva was pushed down your throat.

mine, mine, mine.

your hands raised from your sides at last, but not to push him away, but to grasp his neck, your fingers digging into his bare skin and pulling him in.

“you’re mine.”

rafayel moaned against your nectar-coated lips, the sound low and rough. that fragile voice from before was replaced by a deeper tune, reverberating masculine and powerful. he pulled back just a smidge, his eyes half-lidded, studying your enchanted state. you were slowly but surely losing yourself, succumbing to pleasure and his otherworldly charm.

“…mine?”

you repeated, the word feeble and distant in your own ears. your mind was beginning to fog, the edges of reason blurring like a stream’s bank under rising water. his voice filled that space, sweet and irresistible — drawing you in and drowning you.

“you came to my waters.” he tutted, his mouth inches from your ear. “you stripped for me. you are mine now.”

he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his body. the allure in his voice became a physical thing, a heaviness in your limbs, a surrender in your soul. you didn’t resist as his other hand came up to cup your right breast.

“ahh.” your sharp intake of breath fanned across his own exposed skin, making it flush with arousal.

“just like that.”

he hummed, a low, vibrating sound that made your skin break out in another wave of bumpy awareness. his thumb swirled over your nipple, rolling the taut, hardened bud between his fingertips.

a jarring, familiar pleasure shot directly to your core, forcing that well-known coil of arousal to tighten just a bit.

“so sensitive.” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to watch his own touch. “so real. your heart is pounding like a flock of frightened birds.”

he dipped his head, and his mouth swiftly replaced his thumb. the wet, hot swirl of his monstruous tongue over your nipple made you cry out, a short, sharp sound that echoed in the silent grove. your hands, of their own accord, ran into his wet hair, the mauve strands coiling around your fingers.

“r-raf–”

he sucked, gently at first, then with increasing pressure, the scratch of his pointy teeth pinching at your skin and making you arch beautifully into him. your knees weakened with every tug of his lips on your chest, legs turning to putty beneath the spring.

the water suddenly moved, a slick current wrapping around your legs, holding you up when your own strength failed.

“that’s it.” he cooed, his mouth leaving your nipple with a soft pop, choosing to lay wet, open-mouthed kisses along your sternum. “let me support you. let me take care of you.”

his hand left your waist and dipped below the spring’s surface. the water beneath his palm calmed down, creating a perfect, clear medium that allowed you to see his webbed hand sliding flat across your lower belly.

“a-ahh.” you gasped, your abdomen clenching already in anticipation.

he hushed you with a shushing sound, then spread his palm, pressing down against your heated skin — right where he himself felt that knotty desire bubble.

“hush… you are so tense, my human. so filled with violence and vigil.” his hand slid down further, the water again obeying him, creating no waves or crease in his wake.

his fingertips skimmed the soft, puffy lips of your cunt, tracing from your swollen clit down to your gaping hole. you shook as if struck by lightning, the feeling of his touch too intense beneath the waters.

you wished to say something, but another sharp gasp emerged, this one cut short as he pressed two fingers inside you.

“so warm…” he breathed, his pupils dilating with something hungry and primal as the digits got swallowed so easily by your ravenous pussy. knuckles deep, he curled his fingers, the pads rubbing against a spot that sent another jolt of delirious fire through you. “and so tight.”

“f-fuckk…” your head rolled back at his intrusion, your mouth open in a silent scream.

the hum of the spring became louder, a roar in your ears that wasn’t just sound but sensation. your pulse thundered everywhere, singing together with the waters.

singing together with rafayel.

“look at me.” he commanded, his voice losing its sing-song quality for a moment. it was darker, deeper, imposing. your eyes snapped to his, glazed over with that honey-like colour of his nectar. and he smiled, a blessed, innocent twist of his lips that denied the predatory desire in his gaze.

“good, keep it like that.”

he stilled his hand abruptly, and then withdrew his fingers completely from your pussy. with a gentle pull, he dragged you closer, until your soft belly flushed against his own. you felt it then — the hard, hot length of his cock, partially hidden by the foliage, pressing steadily against your navel.

“you’re… a male nymph…” you whispered through the haze, the shocking statement slipping out more like a fact. you might have tried to flee the spring had you know from the start such a creature haunted it, but now it was too late.

your eyes, which should’ve been filled with terror, were chambers to carnal lust.

“i am.” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “i am the only one. just as you are the only one.” he nudged the tip of his cock against you, pushing against your belly button, the beady precum staining your skin. “we are special.”

“mhm...”

“and i will have you.” he said, not a promise, but a fact. “in my waters. on my land.”

he dropped under the water without further notice, a smooth disappearance that left you panting for more of his touch. you stood alone in the spring for what felt like ages; the curse fully upon you, your body trembling with want you never allowed yourself before.

then, fingertips — cool, wet, slightly rough — spread you apart.

“wha–” you started, looking down at your parted thighs. he was kneeling in the water, his long hair spread around him like a shimmering mantle. his pink eyes looked up at you, unwavering in their focus.

and, with a cheeky smirk, his mouth closed the gap with your cunt.

his long tongue first laid over your swollen clit, lazily, like he was tasting a rare fruit. your hands flew back to his hair, tangling themselves at the roots, holding on to keep him between your thighs.

“oh god.” you whimpered, the words strangled, mixing with the cascading water.

he hummed against your bundle of nerves, the vibration against your flesh driving you insane. then he prodded deeper, the tip of his tongue sliding inside you. you bucked, your thighs quivering shut, but the water wrapped around them — a slippery restraint that kept you open.

he kissed, licked, and sucked, building the pressure inside you with ruthless efficiency, as he was thrusting his tongue inside your gummy walls.

he was taking you apart, piece by piece, with his mouth alone.

your vision spotted. your breathing turned to ragged sobs. the tightness in your lower stomach stretched, coiled, wound too tight; your fingers mirrored it all, tugging at his hair harshly, pushing his mouth deeper into you.

and then…

“ra-af, noo–”

he pulled away.

you cried out in protest, a cruel, whimpering noise that sounded like music to his ears. he shook his head lightly, water spraying, and began to rise from beneath the spring. but he didn’t leave you hanging for long.

instead, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and lifted your body from the spring. the water helped him, pushing you up and forward, laying you down nicely for him. you were now out of the pool, sprawled on your back on the cool, damp grass bank.

the moonlight filled your vision.

“better.” he murmured, his body now towering over you, pinning your thighs apart with his strong arms. “i can feel you better now. all of you.”

he lowered his mouth back to your cunt, and this time, there was no water barrier. he sank his tongue inside you with a teasing thrust, pushing as much of his monstruous muscle in, then moved back to sucking hard on your clit. flicking his tongue, laying it flat, rolling it into strange patters only known to him.

his fingers returned his ministration against your tight walls, now scissoring your weeping hole and making your arousal drip down your thighs and onto the meadow.

“ah-aa-hh.”

it was too much.

the pleasure, foreign and brutal, pounded through you, like a horse galloping relentlessly on a beaten path. you began to toss your head, the grass and flowers crushing beneath your pleasure and pain.

“st-stop… please…”

he didn’t.

he sped up, the movements of his mouth and hands losing all pretense of rhythm, becoming a raw, predatory feast. your hands grabbed the plants from the earth, uprooting them in your violent climax. your legs, pathetically dangling from rafayel’s shoulder, dug into his body, clamping around his head and burying him deeper into your cunt.

“i’m gonna–” you sobbed, the warning unheard by the nymph.

he only grunted, the sound vibrating against your sickly convulsing flesh, as he replaced his mouth with his thumb. pressing down on your clit as he’d rather bit down, just softly, on your inner thigh.

“ff-uuck.”

that was it.

the coil snapped.

the orgasm ripped through you, stopping your heart and your breath in the same instant. you stared up at the moon, mouth agape, no sound escaping. it was relentless, a tornado of sensation that stripped you of every thought, every memory, every time you had ever been anything but a bundle of nerves being milked by a nymph.

he waited, his mouth nuzzling into your pussy, slowly lapping at the spasms that wrenched you. he only pulled back when you slumped, when the fire had consumed your fuel.

when tears, damp and hot, tracked down your temples, mixing with the spring and the sweat. your sobs began in earnest, wrenching, shaky things that come only after an unbearable pain.

he waited until they subsided into a still, drained silence. then he crawled up next to your body, like a light being raised from beneath the water, and gathered you into his arms. he held you, his face nestled in the wet spot where your neck met your shoulder.

trying to prepare you with sweet words for what was about to come.

“shh.” he said, his voice pure and sweet again. “we’re almost done, my human. you’re almost mine.”

the calm did not last.

the nectar in his spit, that potent aphrodisiac, began to fade from your veins like a receding tide. the haze of pleasure and compulsion lifted, revealing the raw, horrified clarity beneath. you lay in his arms on the damp grass, and your body began to tremble.

not with afterglow, but with a primal, rising dread.

he felt it. he felt your heart begin to race with a different rhythm — fear, not desire. he stirred, his chin lifting from your shoulder. his pink eyes, a moment ago soft and lidded, sharpened.

“ugh–”

you made your move.

a jerking, desperate twist of your hips, and you rolled away from him. the cool moss slammed against your back. you crawled. your legs, jelly-like and trembling, dragged underneath you. the memory of your dagger, lost in the pool, was a phantom pain in your palm.

“h-he–” your voice was a ruined thing, rasped from screams. only one word escaped it. “–lp!”

you got to your knees, your nakedness exposed under the moon. the camp. you needed to get to the camp. to your peers. to your fellow mercenaries, their blades and practical decencies.

“he–”

you stumbled forward, chaotic, one hand grasping at the air as if for a weapon.

behind you, there was no sound.

then, a low, inhuman sigh. it wasn’t anger. it was immense and scalpel-sharp disappointment.

“you are leaving?”

his voice was a cloud of mist from the spring, chill and dense. the charm was gone from it. it was pure, leftover power. you froze, but only for a second. you didn’t look back. you began to crawl faster, your bare feet slapping against the cold earth. the tree line, the campfire coals — it was only a few yards.

“you are leaving me.”

this time, the words were closer. right behind you. a rush of air, and then a hand — cool, wet, iron-strong — clamped around your ankle.

you screamed. a short, guttural sound of pure panic. you kicked back, your heel connecting with his mythical flesh.

…it felt like kicking a boulder.

he didn’t let go. he yanked. the ground felt away from your knees, and you fell, your chin plowing a short channel in the mud, your jaw locking forcefully. and before you could gather another breath, he was on you.

his weight pinned you, his body long and lithe but immovably heavy. his hands — one wrapped around your wrists, pinning them above your head — felt like water-smoothed rock.

the other hand went to your throat.

not to strangle. not yet.

“you would run from me?” he hissed, his face inches from yours, long hair falling around you like curtains. the exquisite, androgynous beauty was gone, erased by a snarl that bared his teeth. a bit too long, a bit too sharp. “you would leave the only thing in this forest that cares for you?”

“get off!” you spat, trying to buck, to knee him. the grass and moss were slippery with dew and your previous sweat. “you’re a monster! you touched me! you–”

he clamped his hand harder on your throat, not cutting off your air. but… silencing you. his thumb pressed into the dipping hollow at the base of your throat, making your eyes bulge.

“i cared for you.” he bit back, his breath fanning the tip of your nose. “i cleansed your wounds. i gave you pleasure you could never fantasize. i welcomed you.”

“you–”

he brought his mouth down suddenly, forcefully. it wasn’t a kiss. it was a seal. an act of ownership so violent it tilted towards punishment.

his lips were cold and unyielding as he forced them against yours, prizing your jaw open with his own. you resisted, clenching your teeth, shaking your head. he growled, a deep, dark sound that made your gut clench, and then bit down on your lower lip.

“ah!”

the pain was sharp, a perforation of coppery blood flooding your mouth. you gasped, and he took advantage of it.

his tongue shoved inside, not teasing, not tasting, but conquering. it was larger than a human tongue, slightly rough as it passed your teeth and scraped the roof of your mouth. he spat within you, a flood of that same sweet, spiced nectar. it was hot this time, burning a little as it sluiced down your throat.

you coughed, choking, but he swallowed it for you, his throat moving against yours, forcing you to process the liquid.

the effect was near instantaneous: a drunken, heavy warmth spread from your stomach outwards. your limbs, tense with panic, began to go limp in his hands. your jaw slackened, allowing him deeper access down your throat.

and oh, he knew. he relished this new state of yours.

he drank your surrender from your mouth with vigour.

when he finally pulled back to admire you, a silver string of his nectar and your saliva connected your lips for a moment before breaking. your eyes were glazed, your breathing hitched and shallow, barely registering the man straddling you.

“there.” he whispered, his rage cooling into a scary, triumphant calm.

he released your wrists, but your arms didn’t move. they lay back in the grass as he had placed them, obeying his will. he trailed his fingertips down your arm, across your collarbone, over your marked breasts.

your nipple peaked under his touch, not with chill nor pleasure, but with a drugged, involuntary arousal. he leaned down and lavished a hot, wet kiss on the tip, earning a whine from your docile lips.

“so pliant again.” he murmured. “so perfect for me.”

he adjusted his position, his knees pressing your thighs further apart. you felt his erection — heavy, throbbing, the tip brushing against your clit. then down to the entrance of your sopping, trembling cunt.

the foliage that was previously there dispersed completely, choosing to tangle along his torso and legs.

“i would fuck you right here.” he breathed, his voice rich with possessive lust and restlessness. “in the grass. where any of the forest could see. and i would. but…”

he looked down at you, at your half-lidded eyes, the tears tracking through the dirt on your cheeks and chin. “you might make a sound. your peers… they might come.”

he frowned, a childish, sulky dip on his brow. “i don’t want to share.”

with that, he shifted. he kept his weight on you, but pushed away with his arms. he propped himself between your thighs, his cock pressed against your sticky folds.

using one hand to guide himself, while freeing the other to clamp over your mouth.

“don’t.” he ordered, his eyes narrowing. “not a sound.”

then he pushed in.

there was no further preparation, no care for your tenderness. the nectar had relaxed you, made you slippery, but the sheer size of his inhuman cock made you choke — it was like being rammed open by a tree root.

you arched your back, a silent scream slashing your soul. your nails scraped at the earth, digging tiny graves in the soil.

he sank in one swift motion, up to the hilt, then paused. his eyes were closed, his breathing uneven. he was savoring the feel of you, the tight, hot clench of your warm human body around his.

finally…

“mine.” he breathed, and then began to move.

his thrusts were not the graceful glides of a lover. they were possessive ruts, deep and measured, each one aimed to mark you from the inside. he used his whole body, leveraging his weight to drive himself as deep as possible.

the sound was a wet, slapping cadence that tore through the night.

“see?” he hissed, leaning down to nip at your ear. “see how we fit? you were made for me.”

you couldn’t answer — from pain and pleasure. your eyes rolled back, washed over by tears, fixed on the branches above. the world tilted more and more towards an otherworldly reality.

“f-fuck.”

he grabbed your twitching legs, his hands slippery against your skin, and hoisted them up. he folded you as he pleased, pushing your knees up towards your chest. your ass lifted from the grass, and this angle — deep, made for breeding — made his penetration feel even more profound, more punishing.

he lost his rhythm completely, his thrusts becoming a series of brutal, tumbling drives as your hungry pussy devoured every inch of his cock.

“you’re mine.” he growled with each push, a mantra of irrational possessiveness spoken into your flesh. “mine. mine. forever. i will keep you here. in my spring. in my embrace. you will never leave.”

his pace became punishingly fast, a piston-drive of carnal lust. the pleasure, relentless and bred from pain, began to coil again inside you, thumping into your lower tummy. your body, soaked in his nectar-like saliva, started to clench around him harsher, drawing him deeper.

milking him of everything he got.

he moaned, a high, sorrowful sound. “i’m close… i’m… no, not yet…”

but his body overruled him. he drove into you one last, teeth-clattering thrust, his chest collapsing against your folded legs.

spilling inside you.

it wasn’t a climax as mortals knew it. it was an overflow. a river of him, hot and copious, flooding your insides. it kept coming and coming, each pulse laying another claim on your hot mortal flesh. you felt it filling you, washing against your cervix, pressure building inside your abdomen.

“ah-ah…”

when he finally stilled, his body heavy and limp on yours, your lower belly was swollen, bloated outwards in a soft, impossible way. he slid a hand down between your bodies, parting your pliant legs, and pressed a palm down on your stomach.

you moaned, a low, guttural sound of satiation. of fullness.

“yes.” he whispered, rubbing his webbed hand over the slight bulge. “yes. imprinted. filled with me.”

he slowly, carefully withdrew from you, and the only thing keeping his cum from cascading out of you was the plump, heavy weight of it in your belly.

he lay next to you, propped on an elbow, and watched you.

he watched as his cum leaked out of your ravaged hole, a pale, pearlescent stream on the grass. he watched as the plants of the forest, drawn by his own essence, began to grow. tendrils of ivy, fragrant jasmine, and delicate, creeping black roses sprouted from the earth beneath your body. they coiled around your limbs, fine vines wrapping your ankles, blossoms blooming in the hollow of your collarbone.

they too were marking you, blending you with the forest, making you part of his territory.

“you see?” he said, his voice soft and enchanting once more. he plucked a blossom of moonflower and twirled it between his fingers. “the forest already claims you. in one week, you will forget them. in a month, you will forget there is anywhere else. your world will be this grove. your skin will smell of my moss, your hair of my rain. your womb…”

he trailed his hand down to your belly again. “your womb will always keep a trace of me.”

he leaned down and kissed your bloodied lips, tongue prodding at your heavy-lidded eyes to gather the salty tears of your demise. it was gentle, almost apologetic — at least on the surface.

“sleep now, my mortal love.” he murmured. “your life has yet to start.”

he gathered you in his arms, cradling you like a precious trinket, and he disappeared with you into the darkened shadows of the grove. the only sign that remained of the encounter was a patch of crushed, blooming grass, the pearlescent pool of his essence seeping into the soil.

oh, and the distant, growing light of a mercenary campfire — a light that would never guide you home again.

©pearlescenthoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @yuunileb

[eynbwn]

SUMMER IN WINTER

— yandere!caleb x reader

— series masterlist

summary: life in the snowy white mountains is harsh but peaceful. one particularly cold night, a little stranger arrives at your door, shivering and starving. granny josephine, pitying the poor thing, takes him in. from then on, the days once spent quietly at her side are shared with a new presence — caleb. your world should have stayed that way, but when the aches in your chest cause you to become bedridden, the cracks in the ice start to show. some things are closest when they intend to keep you.

genre: horror?, angst, fluff, yandere! caleb, ancient china au, slightly suggestive (but not really)

notes: based on the grateful crane folk story, they refer to each other as gege/meimei, banner made by me on canva!

one + two

[greelin]

if you’ve been following me for 4+ years i’m certain you could make a chart of every character i’ve gotten attached to and it would tell you more about me than any therapist’s notes ever could. but we don’t have the time for that. there are other things at hand. do not even worry about it. next exhibit. we’re moving along. we’re walking

[greelin]

“i’m noticing.. a pattern—” well stop noticing. close the book. Put it away. step outside and have a cigarette or something. close your eyes. it’s not worth it

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Verified Rumor

Summary: When you visit the DAA and pretend to be Caleb’s girlfriend, he gets a taste of what he has wanted all his life and he won’t stop with just a taste.  warnings: pseudo incest HEAVY, noncon, sickfic, dead dove do not eat, caleb is crazy and manipulative, mc thinks it’s all her fault, cries a lot, dom!caleb, titty sucking, cunnilingus, PIV sex, creampie, allusions to babytrapping, inappropriate use of evol

When Caleb asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend so he can fend off his horde of admirers at the DAA, you didn’t bat an eye. Caleb always had admirers and now that his college peers don’t know you’re his sister, you can successfully take on the role of girlfriend and fool them into giving Caleb the peaceful semester he wants. After all, a clingy and jealous girlfriend was a much better deterrent than a clingy and jealous younger sister. 

But the amount of people vying for Caleb’s attention has increased ten-fold since you were in middle school. After all, Caleb was a talented pilot, a star athlete, an intelligent student, and a very attractive guy—he was the whole package as everyone at the DAA was so eager to tell you. 

So in order to really sell the lie, you had to go the extra mile, at least according to Caleb. That’s why for the whole day, you were pressed to his side, his arm around you, your fingers intertwined. 

“We have to pretend to be in love for this to work, pipsqueak.” He had whispered in your ear when you had tensed up the first time he did it. But his usual playful voice put you at ease. 

Yeah, he was just trying to sell the ruse. It would be pointless if people weren't convinced, right? So you loosened up and leaned into him the same way you had done countless times before, only this time it was in front of an audience. 

What you hadn't done before, though, was kiss. But that was needed to sell the lie too, wasn't it? After all, what kind of boyfriend doesn't kiss his girlfriend when he wins the big game?

And that’s exactly what happened. You were at Caleb’s basketball game, playing the role of the cheerleader girlfriend, perched courtside in his jersey, shouting praises for him over the crowd. 

Caleb was amazing as always, the undisputed star of the game, his movements were quick and graceful as he dribbled, jumped, and sank shot after shot, bringing the win home for his team with such ease it had the crowd erupting with cheers for him. When the buzzer signaled the end of the game, his teammates swarmed him on the court, congratulating him with slaps on the back and hearty hugs, once again singing their praises for him.

He returned a few handshakes and quick embraces, but Caleb’s eyes quickly found you, and that was the one thing that never changed, whether you were his sister or his girlfriend. He broke out into a huge smile as your gazes met, and he jogged towards you, chest heaving and skin glistening. 

To everyone at the stadium, he must’ve looked like a demigod—a powerful young man filled with vigor and talent. But to you he was just your Caleb, your older brother, rushing to share his triumphs with you because otherwise it would have been joyless. 

You had smiled brightly at him, holding out the towel and water bottle as you always did, a ritual you’d become familiar with from years of sibling support. But the words that came out of his mouth weren't the ones you were used to—not exactly. 

"That was for you, baby." He had said loudly, his voice carrying over the cheers, and he ignored your offerings entirely, his hands instead cupping your face and bringing it towards him, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss. 

A kiss. Caleb had kissed you. Your brother had kissed you in front of a stadium full of people, and you could do nothing but stand still and let him do it. You didn't want to ruin the ruse so publicly, not with the crowd watching, their cheers turning to whistles and catcalls.

The kiss wasn’t scandalous by any means, but it wasn’t chaste either. Not what you imagined your first kiss to be. It wasn’t slow and hesitant like you imagined. No, it was eager, firm, inescapable—probably exactly how a triumphant boyfriend high off his impressive win would kiss his loving girlfriend… but not how a brother should ever celebrate with his sister.  

That kiss had tilted your world sideways, leaving you confused and disoriented, but when Caleb finally pulled away, having stolen all the air in your lungs, he just laughed, his eyes gleaming and his face joyous, as if he had actually forgotten what you were for a moment and believed you were really his girlfriend. 

His teammates had yanked him away before you could muster a single word, not that your scrambled brain could’ve formed any coherent ones. You stood there, frozen courtside, lips tingling and swollen, staring after your brother as he was swallowed by the celebratory huddle. Despite your ears ringing, it still couldn't drown out the mutters rising from the crowd behind you. 

"Is that his girlfriend?"

"They look cute together."

"Aw, they must be in love."

“How did she snag him?”

"Lucky bitch."

Caleb was right. It worked. That’s why he did it. It was all for the ruse. That’s it. No need to overthink it. 

____________________________

You didn’t feel up to going out for drinks with Caleb’s teammates later that day, the idea of more pretense, more touching, more kissing, made your stomach churn. But all his teammates' girlfriends were going to be there and if you ditch him so soon then people might get suspicious. After all, you were only in Skyhaven to visit him and support him so why would you let him go alone to the afterparty? 

The booth you were all seated in was cramped, a dozen bodies squeezed together in a tangle of laughter and booze… and it was normal, perfectly normal, that you ended up seated in Caleb's lap. 

You'd done it countless times before so it wasn’t the intimacy that was making you uneasy this time or sending prickles of anxiety across your skin. No, it was Caleb's lips brushing the curve of your neck, warm and incessant, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, "Loosen up, pipsqueak. You're making it look like you're my hostage instead of my girlfriend." He gave you that easy chuckle you knew so well, but underneath it lurked a darker note that put you on edge. 

It scared you a little because you didn’t understand where it was coming from, but you couldn’t run from it or even question it, not without ruining everything for Caleb, and you wouldn’t do that to him. 

And so you had settled more fully in his lap, your back pressed to his chest, the heat of his body burning through you. His hands, large and calloused, roamed up and down your sides, fingers splaying over your ribs, dipping dangerously close to the swell of your breasts before retreating. Each stroke pulled at your sanity, making you unravel. 

It’s okay. This is all for show. You just have to stay still and let him do what he needs to do. He has done so much for you growing up, he has given you everything you ever asked for, spoiled you to no end, the least you could do is trust him. Your brother would never hurt you. 

His friends teased him relentlessly, their voices slurred with alcohol and friendly banter. "Look at you two, all lovey-dovey. Can't keep your hands off her, huh, Caleb?" One laughed, raising his glass in a mock toast. 

Another chimed in, "Now I get why Caleb was never interested in any of the girls here. Man, you're whipped. She's got you wrapped around her finger." 

Caleb chuckled against your skin, his lips pressing a feather-light kiss to your pulse point, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh. "What can I say? She's irresistible." He murmured, turning your head towards him and kissed you in front of everyone once again. 

This kiss was deeper, more hungry, more reckless. His tongue pressed into your mouth, and you could taste the beer on him. That must be why he’s being like this. He’s drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s okay. You won’t embarrass him. 

"Get a room, you two." One of his teammates groaned teasingly, and the others joined in with their own laughter. It was all so normal to them. You and Caleb were a couple in love, of course you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other.

They didn’t know he was your brother. They didn’t know how wrong this was. And they can’t know. It would ruin Caleb’s future. You had to be a good sister and protect his secret in his moment of weakness. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll feel terrible about all of this. He would cry and beg for your forgiveness and you’d call him silly and say it’s all forgotten. 

You repeat that mantra in your head over and over again, trying to keep yourself calm, trying not to burst into tears in front of his friends… but when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, when you felt the hardness in his pants against your core, you suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

"Caleb!" You shouted, pushing him back and breaking the kiss. 

The outburst startled everyone at the table, including Caleb. He looks at you warily, as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll expose the whole thing. You throw a furtive glance around, and see that everyone is looking at you, waiting for an explanation for your sudden outburst. 

You could stop it all now. But you couldn’t do this to Caleb. 

Forcing a smile, you reach out to stroke his chest clumsily, acting like you’re drunker than you were. "I want to dance."You whined cutely, batting your lashes in exaggerated playfulness, your fingers playing with the dogtag you had gifted him when he was accepted into the DAA. "Can we dance? Please?"

He relaxed then, his face breaking out into that devastating smile of his, the smile that could lead you to ruin. He pulled you up from his lap effortlessly. "Anything for you, baby." 

He leads you to the dance floor, where you had thought you might get a bit of reprieve from the acting that was way more intense and methodical than you ever imagined it would be. But on the dancefloor, Caleb is even closer to you, pressing his body against yours, the song playing at the moment giving him the perfect opportunity to keep you close. 

His hands guide your hips as he moves you both to the sultry song blaring from the speakers. His head dips down, lips brushing your ear before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just enough to leave a mark. 

"They're watching, pipsqueak." He admonishes sliding his hands down to cup your ass, moving you more sensually against him, and you’re sure to everyone else you look like a horny couple dry humping on the dancefloor. "You have to sell them on your performance of the smitten girlfriend." 

And again you let him dictate your actions. You try not to think of what you’re doing too much. You’ve danced with Caleb before. You’ve only really danced with Caleb. No other boys dared approach you when they knew he was your big brother. 

See, even though Caleb had many public admirers, your own admirers stayed secret, none of them daring to cross your protective older brother. 

But like everything today, this dance was a twisted version of something you had been so used to. He has never danced like this with you before, and you certainly never felt this part of him pressed against your hip when he had danced with you at prom.

You try to keep calm. This would all be over soon, you tell yourself, clinging to the thought like a lifeline. After tonight’s performance, no one would question your identity as Caleb’s girlfriend. No one would dare bother him anymore and Caleb could finally go back to being your older brother. Just your brother. 

_______________________________

You were both drunk by the end of the night, the world a hazy blur of sights and sounds, Caleb more so than you with his flushed cheeks and loosened inhibitions. He would never do this to you if he wasn’t drunk. He just wasn’t aware of what he was doing.

Still his protectiveness shines through and he refuses to let you go home like this, drunk and vulnerable. Anyone could take advantage of you, he had said. Of course. Caleb is right. You’re safest with him. And you don’t have to worry about keeping on an act anymore. His friends are all gone now. 

Well, except for Gideon—his best friend and dormmate. And you grow anxious at the thought that the ruse could continue. But when you step foot into the small dorm room, Gideon is nowhere to be seen. 

"Where is Gideon?" You ask, looking around the room as if you would find him hidden in the closet or under the bed, unable to let your guard down just yet.

"He left for the night so I can spend more time with my girlfriend." Caleb laughed, kicking the door shut behind him and locking it with a soft click. 

He goes to sit down on what you assumed was his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, his long legs spread wide as he leans back on his arms, muscles flexing under his shirt. His gaze rakes over you slowly, from head to toe, eyes hooded, the strange darkness in them making you squirm. "Said he saw how much we missed each other and wanted to give us a night together to… catch up." 

"Haha… very funny, Gege." You rolled your eyes, trying to play off your nervousness as sarcasm, but your heart was hammering in your chest and you were almost certain he could hear it even from over there.

Why was he still going with this? The audience is gone, the ruse is no longer necessary. Yet here he was, staring at you like he wanted to eat you up. "You've had your fun already."

But before you can step far away from him, his arm reaches forward with lightning speed, snatching your wrist and yanking you on top of him. You land on his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the heat of his body searing through your clothes as his hands settle on your waist, holding you in place. 

"Have I?" He murmurs, his voice dropping, his face inches from yours, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I think the fun is just starting." 

His hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. The other hand dips lower, gripping your ass and pulling you down harder against him, letting you feel the full, throbbing length of his erection straining against his jeans—there was no denying it, what he wants. 

“Caleb, stop messing around. Let me go so I can change and we can sleep.” You protest still, your voice full of exasperation and dread as you squirm in his lap. 

“I don’t want to sleep.” He counters, his dark gaze dropping to your dress. “But I can help you take this off.” 

Without waiting for permission, his fingers find the zipper at the back of your dress, the cool metal teeth parting as he tugs it down, exposing the bare skin of your back to the cold air, his touch burning you like a brand as he tries to peel the fabric away. Instinctively, your hands fly up to press the dress against your chest, desperately holding it in place. It’s flimsy and weak but it’s all you got. 

“Caleb! What are you doing?” Your voice cracks with fear and shock.

“Helping my girlfriend out of her pretty little dress.” He replies easily, his breath hot against your collarbone as he leans in closer. “Did you wear a dress this short to make me happy… or angry?” 

His hands slide to your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh where the hem rode up too high, exposing more skin than you'd intended. “When I said I wanted all eyes on us, I didn’t mean it like that.” There was a jealous edge to his words, one that shouldn’t be there but you can’t deny you were familiar with. Caleb was never shy about his possessiveness over you. All your life you had thought it was because of his protectiveness, but now you’re starting to think differently.

“Come on.” He continues, his voice dropping to a growl that makes goosebumps cover your skin. “Gideon left so I can have some alone time with my girlfriend. Don’t let his sacrifice go to waste.” His grin is playful, but his eyes hold no humor, only a hunger that is waiting to devour you.

“Caleb, you’re not funny.” You shoot back, still trying desperately to remain in denial, but even your words come out breathless, weakened by the way his hips shift under you, pressing his cock more insistently against your pussy through the thin layers of fabric.

“Do I look like I’m laughing, pipsqueak?” He asks, and you suck in a sharp breath as you meet his gaze—the intense, dark look in his eyes like a storm swallowing every hint of playfulness you’ve come to expect to see there. Something is wrong with Caleb. Your brother is not well. It’s the alcohol. It’s making him delirious. 

“Caleb—” You try to speak some reason into him, but he doesn’t even let you finish your thought, his hands roaming higher up your body, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the dress.

He silences you with a kiss, fierce and demanding, his lips crashing against yours as his tongue forces itself into your mouth. And in that distracting moment, he seizes the opportunity, yanking your dress down your chest with a harsh tug, the fabric pooling at your waist and baring your breasts to the cool air—to him. You whimper, pulling back from the kiss, your nipples hardening instantly under his heated stare. Panic swells within you, and you try to scramble away, to put distance between you, but he holds you in place with a sudden surge of his Evol, pinning your hips to his, and your body arches against him involuntarily as his cock rubs against your clothed pussy..

“Don’t run away now, pips.” He growls, voice rough with need and eyes devouring the sight of you half-exposed and vulnerable in his lap. “You’re not going to leave your boyfriend all hard and needy, are you? That’s cruel.” 

He dips his head down, trailing a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses across the swell of your chest. Each kiss is harsh and possessive—his lips suckling at your skin while his teeth leave stinging red parks across your sensitive flesh, burning you up despite your mind begging your body not to react. 

How could you not? When his lips close around your nipple, drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue rolling in slow, swirling motions around the hardening bud in a way that makes your back arch involuntarily, pushing more of your breast into his eager mouth. 

His free hand claims your other breast, kneading it with firm strokes, his fingers splaying wide to cover the entire thing, his thumb circling the sensitive bud in lazy, maddening loops before pinching it sharply between his thumb and forefinger. The contrast of pain and pleasure rip a gasp from your throat, your body betraying you as a fresh wave of heat flooded between your thighs, your panties growing slick with arousal despite the whirlwind of shame and denial screaming at you in your mind.

Then he switches sides, his mouth latching onto the neglected nipple with equal hunger, sucking it deeply into his mouth while his now-wet fingers roll the other, slick with his saliva, amplifying every nerve ending until your breasts throb under his touch and you squirm restlessly in his lap. 

The Caleb you'd known—the protective, older brother—fades further into darkness, devoured by this feral imitation of him that bears his eyes but possesses none of his warmth, its dark gaze flicking up to meet yours as he works you over, watching your reactions with a predatory delight. You whimper his name in vain, your hands tangling in his messed up hair.

But he doesn’t listen. And your body, your traitorous body, grinds against his hard cock, an unwelcome ache building unbearably in your belly.

“Caleb, please, please. You’re drunk.” You beg, your voice trembling with desperation, pathetic tears welling in your eyes as you clutch his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. “Stop this now, and we can forget this whole thing happened—please, Caleb, just... I’ll pretend it was all the alcohol.”

You expect him to pull back at any moment now, to burst out laughing at your teary face and tease you about how much of a crybaby you still are. To reveal that this had all been a test to remind you that you still need your older brother to protect you and that none of this meant anything. 

But instead he glares at you with a clarity you hadn’t expected from the drunk man. “No. I’m finally in my right mind.” His hands roam along your bare skin with possessiveness, tracing the curves he'd only ever touched in innocence before. “I got a taste of what I’ve wanted all my life, and I won’t let go again.” 

In the blink of an eye, he has you pushed back onto the bed, this figure looming over you and blocking out whatever little light is in the room. Before you can argue with him or question him about what the hell he means, he grabs your dress from around your waist and yanks it down, pulling it along with your panties down your legs and off your body, leaving you bare. 

Caleb's gaze rakes over you hungrily, wildly—from the swell of your breasts that are marked from his earlier kisses, to the quiver of your belly, down to the glistening folds between your legs. 

You press your thighs together, trying to hide away from him but he doesn’t appreciate that. Grunting, he grabs your thighs, his calloused palms pushing them apart roughly, spreading you wide open for him before you feel the weight of his Evol taking over to keep you splayed apart while his hands start to roam. 

“Fuck, pips.” He groans darkly, licking his lips as one of his fingers traces the slick seam of your entrance, gathering the evidence of your body's betrayal. “Look how wet you are for me. Dirty girl.”

“It’s not my fault.” You whimper, tears spilling over now, their hot tracks burning down your cheeks as shame makes your stomach churn, and yet your hips twitch involuntarily under his uninvited touch. “You were touching me all night... can’t help it.”

“Shhh, dumb baby.” He soothes, but his words reek of condescension as he leans down to hover just above your core, his breath fanning hotly against your sensitive pussy. “This is exactly why I need to protect you. Can't have you opening your legs for just anyone.” 

His tongue darts out then, lapping at you with slow strokes that make stars burst behind your eyelids, the taste of you seeming to his satisfaction, if his deep groan of approval is any indication.

He doesn’t maintain his restraint for long however, quickly devolving into a wild animal as he eats you up. His lips suck greedily at your clit, his tongue flicking and swirling in messy patterns, slurping up your arousal like he was starving for it, the wet, obscene sounds echoing in the small dorm room. His saliva mixes with your juices, dripping down his chin as he eats you out sloppily, nipping every now and then at the junction of your thighs as if he’s letting out a bit of the aggression he feels towards you before soothing the skin with broad, flat laps of his tongue that have your hips bucking involuntarily to push your pussy back against his face.

But through your lust-induced haze, you register the feeling of his fingers pressing against your entrance, thick and firm, teasing you before easing just one inside you, the single digit stretching your tightness with a sharp burn that makes you gasp and clench instinctively. 

You've never had anything inside you before, not even your own curious touches going this far, and now it's your brother's finger invading you, curling around to explore your once untouched walls, pumping in shallow thrusts that build a nauseating, aching pressure that makes you want to rip your skin off.  

"So fucking tight, pips." He murmurs against your pussy, and you can hear the roughness of his lust even with his voice muffled against you. You try to squirm under him to no avail, your body resisting the unfamiliar intrusion even as it slicks him further with arousal, your strength no match to his Evol. 

Only when you finally start to adjust, your whimpers turning breathier, your pussy yielding to him, does he add the second finger, pushing it in alongside the first with the same methodical movements, so unlike how he ate you out before. It seems that even through whatever evil has taken over his body, he was careful not to hurt you. At least not in this way. 

Still, no matter how careful he is, the stretch still hurts, and Caleb sees it on your face. 

"Shh, you have to loosen up for me, baby. " He coos, diving back in with his tongue flicking wildly over your clit to distract you from the pain as his fingers now fuck you open in tandem—thrusting deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you that suddenly has you keening, a high-pitched whine escaping your throat as your back arches clean off the bed but your thighs stay pinned down with his Evol.

But when he adds a third finger, even that isn’t enough to distract you, and you cry out in pain. “Caleb, please, please.” 

But your pleas fall on deaf ears, Caleb much too preoccupied with the sight before him to stop now, his dark gaze fixed on where his fingers disappear into your slick heat, pumping relentlessly as your body struggles to accommodate him. 

“Fuck, pipsqueak.” He breathes out heavily, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as he fucks you open a few more times before he pulls his fingers completely out. He holds them up in the air between you, your arousal a glistening mess all over them, tinged with a redness that seems to enrapture him.

“You’re a virgin….” He groans, the words dripping with raw lust and a twisted sense of triumph, his hooded eyes falling onto your trembling body, raking over you like you're a prize all wrapped up just for him. And you know at that moment that you’re going to be ruined—to be marked by your brother in ways that can never be undone. “You kept yourself for me.”

You want to argue with him, to snap back that you didn't stay a virgin for him. You stayed one because of him, because of his overprotectiveness that scared every boy who dared glance your way, his inappropriate jealousy that you stupidly made excuses for countless times before leaving no room for anyone else. 

But now is not the time, not when he quickly discards his clothes, his shirt flung across the room, his belt weighing his pants down as they clink against the floor, leaving him as bare as you are. But his body isn’t like yours, it’s toned, sculpted from the military training and the countless sports he likes to partake in. He could overpower you even without his Evol.

But it’s not his muscles that scare you… it’s his cock, thick and veined, throbbing between his legs as he crawls up your body. It nudges insistently at your entrance, slick with precum as it pressing against your swollen pussy. 

You know you’re ruined and yet you still beg for mercy, hoping you could somehow get through to him before it’s too late. 

“Caleb, you don’t want to do this.” You plead as if you can’t feel just how much he wants it, your voice breaking as fresh tears spill down your cheeks, your hands reaching for him in a futile effort to push him away, palms flat against his chest where you feel his heart thundering wildly. “You’re my brother. I love you. I trust you. Please don’t ruin that.”

“That was your first mistake, baby.” He growled, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you. “Thinking I’d be satisfied with just being your good, obedient older brother.”  He pushed inside you then, inch by merciless inch, the stretch burning like wildfire as he takes your virginity, stealing what should have never been his. “That I wouldn’t want more—fuck, you’re so tight.”

“No. I hate you. I hate you.” You cry out, the words spilling out of you as hot as your tears, scalding your mouth with proclamations you never thought you would utter at your brother, your Caleb. 

“No you don’t.” He grabbed your face roughly, hips rocking forward until he was fully inside you, buried to the hilt in your heat, filling you so completely there was no room for breath. “Don't lie to me. Don't say such cruel things to your Gege.”

His face is dark with a fury you’ve never seen directed at you before, his hips pushing into you harshly, as if he means to punish you for your misbehaviour. Long ago, he had made you promise not to say those exact words to him, even in jest, and it seems he hasn’t forgotten about that, even if he has forgotten about his promise to protect you from everyone… but maybe he never included himself in that promise.

“Caleb—Gege, please, s-stop… please, j-just slow down.” Your hands scramble for grip on his muscular arms, your nails scraping the skin as his ruthless thrusts make stars of pleasure and nebulas of pain burst behind your eyelids, both warring feelings so intense you feel you’re going to pass out.  

But he doesn’t falter, his cock filling you up over and over again, so big, so hard, forcing your pussy to take him. “Say it. Say you're lying.” He insists, eyes wild as his thrusts punctuate each word, driving himself deeper and deeper into you. 

“I'm lying. I'm lying!” You sob, hoping your submission would placate him. But it’s not a lie. You don’t hate him. You can’t hate him. Even if he does something so despicable to you. 

But Caleb wasn’t satisfied with just that, and his merciless treatment of your pliant body continued as he leaned closer, his sweat-slicked forehead pressing to yours, his breath mingling with your gasps. “Say you love me. Say you love this.”

You pause, the gasp your battered lungs muster barely making it past your lips. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be demanding that of you. He knows that. At least he knew that once, but something broke inside of him today and you feel an unbearable sense of guilt gnawing at you as you think that you must’ve had a hand in it. 

You should have never pretended to be his girlfriend. You should have never let him kiss you. You should have never let him touch you that way. You did this to him. You ruined him and now he’s ruining you.

“I-I… I love you, Gege… I love this.” You choke out, hoping to atone for what you’ve done to him. 

Caleb’s face perks up, gazing into your eyes eagerly, swallowing up the lie he gave you to feed him. “Yeah?” He kisses you then, still overbearing but softer now, his lips molding to yours before he releases your face, his hands sliding to your hips for better leverage. “Like Gege's cock inside your virgin pussy?” He asks for more and more, and you are helpless to do anything but give into his greed. 

“Yes... love it so much, Gege.” You shiver, trying to mask the hesitation lingering in your tone so he wouldn’t be rough with you again. You don’t know if you sound convincing or if he’s so far gone he would believe anything he wants to hear from your lips but it becomes easier and easier to lie as the pain gripping your body gives way to a pleasure that is almost as disturbing, his gentler approach forcing your body to yield to him in a wholly different way, but you force yourself not to fight it.

You’ll let him have this tonight. It’s better to think you’ve given it willingly than to face the reality that your brother did this to you. 

“Good girl.” He moans out, and although he was fucking you more carefully now, his big cock still burns every time he buries it inside of you, splitting you open from the core. “My good girl. Did you want this? Did you tease me so I'd break and take what is mine?”

Caleb’s face swims through the tears stinging your eyes, making you see two of him—a Caleb who is so overtaken he just wants to pretend that you’d wanted this all along, that he’s not a monster for what he’s doing to you, and a Caleb who is cruel and calculative, who wants you to implicate yourself for his actions so you wouldn’t blame him for this outcome later. 

Wherever the truth lies, it doesn’t matter. You’ll do it anyway. You'll do anything to not lose the one person who actually loves you—and he knows that too well. 

“I did, Gege. I wanted you to take me. I'm sorry.” You weep, your words a balm to his insanity.

“You hurt Gege so bad, pips.” He admonishes, one hand cupping your cheek as he kisses away your tears, his body moving with yours in a slow, intimate pace. “But it's okay. I forgive you.”

“Thank you... “ You cry out, relieved you’ve finally managed to calm him down. You always do. After all, you’re his beloved little sister. 

“Does it hurt, baby?” He coos as if he was tending to a bruised knee and not talking about his cock splitting you open. 

You nod pitifully, leaning into his touch even as he makes no effort to stop. 

“That’s because you’re tensing up, pipsqueak. Relax and open up for me and it’ll feel good.” He coaxes you, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in a steady rhythm. “Your body will learn to recognize this part of me, and soon enough, you’ll be wet at just the sight of me. I’ll make sure of it—train you until you crave your brother’s cock like he needs your pussy.” 

His words make you want to recoil. Does he want this to happen again? It won’t be over after tonight?

“Shit, baby, loosen up.” Caleb groans as your body tenses around him at the thought, working him up further. 

You grab him by the necklace you’d gifted him when he first started at the DAA—the charm that symbolised your unbreakable connection—and use it to pull him towards you, crashing your lips with his and opening your mouth, knowing he’d take the chance to devour you and you willingly let him, anything so you won’t have to think about this harrowing future he’s fantasizing about. 

Caleb groans into your mouth, taking your kiss for consent. His thrusts deepen, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency as he buries himself inside you over and over, the repetitive motions yanking you by the hair and dragging you towards an orgasm you’re not prepared for. You didn’t even know that a human could be in so much pain and yet still be able to cum. 

"That's it, pips." He coaxes, his breath hot against your lips, his large body looming over yours, sweaty and flexing, the friction of his pelvis on your clit sending sparks of pleasure shooting along your every nerve. "I can feel your pussy trying to milk my cock. You really want this, huh? You were made for this—for Gege to fuck you senseless."

You whimper, tears streaking in unending torrents down your cheeks but he heeds them no mind. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing in firm, insistent circles that match the rhythm of his cock plunging into your slick pussy. The sensation rapidly becomes overwhelming, your walls clamping around him like a vice as your orgasm hurls towards you. "Caleb... I can't... it's too much." You gasp nails raking down his back, leaving red trails that only spur him on.

"Yes, you can." He insists, thrusting harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the dorm room. "Cum for me, baby—cum on for your Gege." 

And your body gives it to him, as if it recognizes that this is your brother who spent all your life giving into your every whim and desire, would you really deny him the first thing he ever asked for? 

Your body arches into him, so close you feel you’d get stuck together forever, so close Caleb can’t thrust into you anymore, instead settling for swivelling his hips around, rubbing his cock all along your walls as they grip and contract around him. 

"Fuck, pips— so tight, so perfect." His mouth hangs open, his eyes completely glazed over as he bullies his cock so deeply inside you, you swear you can feel the hot cum spilling from it flooding your womb.

Oh god, oh god, you haven’t used any protection. 

“Caleb!” You gasp, staring up at him with an icy panic that grips your heart and almost causes it to cease beating.

But Caleb just smiles down at you, knowingly, and kisses your lips—shutting you up every time you try to speak, his cock staying buried inside you, plugging your hole and sealing his seed inside. 

Finally, you stop fighting, all the anger, horror and shame draining from your body like blood from a mortal wound, leaving you weak and pliant in his embrace. It’s only then that he pulls away from your bruised lips, his thumb brushing them gently as he speaks his promises to you. “It’s okay, pipsqueak. I’ll take care of you. Every bit of you. No one's ever going to come between us now.” 

A/N: I am being driven mad by all the lads fics i wanna write, mostly yandere caleb lol i got two based on chasing summer (one where caleb is a mean, unhinged yandere similar to this one and another where he is a manipulate softer yandere), three not based on a memory (two versions of the same yandere caleb story where he takes all your first times so you don’t give them to someone else, one soft and one mean, and a 3rd one where you’re the yandere who won’t share him with others), one based of xavier’s celestial yearn, one based on raf’s fires of devotion and probably many more ahhhh

[qierxing]

me: new year new me

also me: (draws this)

[qierxing]

Hi just wanted to say that I love your writing ! I’ve just got into twisted wonderland and the way you wrote the characters is amazing!! And your art ahh beautiful! Love the details !!

I was wondering do you accept requests? If not no worries!! Love your work!

Hi! Congrats on being the first ask of 2026! (And to the others who sent asks.......i am so so sorry)

Thank you so much for the compliments, it's amazing that my TWST works still get notes to this day! It's a little embarrassing cuz it's old to me now, but I do want to come back to it at some point.......

I do accept requests, but it is not guaranteed I will respond- sometimes I get too wrapped up or it's something I have trouble coming with the imagery for it （；´д｀）ゞ sorrgy

[leggerefiore]

breeding king, baby-trapper corbeau?

Malignant Chain

cw: 18+ content, smut, breeding kink, baby trapping, yandere, possessive behaviour, AFAB reader,

pairing: Corbeau/Reader

Minors DNI

Your warmth was a desire in so many ways.

For that gentle light that your smile brought onto his being; for the embrace of your body against his own – the heat consuming and present. His loneliness would fade away forever. The bitter feelings of unfulfilled youth and forgotten days burning away into ash. You were an idealised being in his eyes. A passionate spirit who brought genuineness to Lumiose; whose desires were uncorrupted and pure against the darkness that could surround you.

He needed to protect you.

Desperation could bloom for any piece of him. All kinds of means were at his disposal to keep you with him. Kidnapping was an obvious one, but his heart broke at the thought of you not being with him willingly. Blackmail was another – but he had long used that card.

One idea had been prickling at his head for quite a while.

The final heat he so adored.

Your hand was clutched in his own as you laid against the silken sheets. He watched as your mouth opened to suck in air and cry out his name. Corbeau groaned at the feeling of your wet heat clenching around his cock. The warmth was like no other. A reminder that you were all his. No other person would see you splayed out as you were. Your legs wrapped around his waist while he thrusted at a steady pace.

He felt smug at the memory of your shock at how endowed he was. You wrapped a hand around his cock in distress and spoke concern that it would not fit. But, it would. He would be careful that you were under the carefully monitored influence of a poison that relaxed one's muscles. You hardly had a chance to resist the full length that pieced you open. Your cries had echoed in his ears.

He rutted harshly into your cervix, enjoying the cry that left you. Oh, his plans. His free hand shifting to rub at your clit. Your walls fluttering around his length made another groan come from him. This innocence you held – he moulded it dutifully with his poison. You would shift into what he needed most. He adored you so much. Fear that you might leave him had become a paranoid thought.

He was a man of control, and you were something that remain just out of his reach. The expression on your face enthralled him through is fogging glasses. Your eyes were filled with bliss. There was hardly a thought in your head. Only the pleasure of his dick inside you was on your mind. His lips found yours for a passionate kiss. Corbeau sucked your tongue into his mouth.

A coil inside him began to tighten, reminding him of what he desired most. You needed a tether. Something that kept you to Lumiose more than any ring or document could – Something that showed what he was to you. The kiss broke, and he rested his forehead to your own. Something permanent. He watched your face contort in pleasure. A sneering grin fell across his face.

Such a beautiful sight… He wanted it framed. Yet, no one else would bare witness to something he adored so much.

You were close, though. He could tell that much. His actions would bare fruit as he hit your cervix particularly hard and pressed your clit in just the right way. The feeling of your walls clamping down around his dick was maddening. Inviting – pleading for a biological imperative. Something so irresistible. He only made a few more thrusts himself.

The coil snapped. You cried out from the feeling spreading inside you. He clutched your hand tighter.

His treasure. His most precious treasure. Something so wonderful.

“You know,” he spoke, remaining buried inside you. This was far from the only time he would fill you tonight. “I expect you to get pregnant tonight.” The words made your eyes go wide despite the haze of lustful pleasure. “You got that?” he asked like he had when gave a job for you to do. Before you could even begin to start asking too many questions, he reached for a remote to turn on a diffuser.

A sickeningly sweet scent permeated in the room. Aphrodisiacs… You both would be too lost to think straight soon enough.

He kissed you again.

“I'll make sure you do.”