synopsis: as much as you show how much the whole incident doesn't make you awkward, it does, and it's killing you that he's sitting beside you like you didn't just get off thinking of him fucking you like some kind of freak. maybe you'll consider changing to a different complex before he even gets to figure it out. you'll take it with you to the grave if it means necessary. you shudder at the thought of the consequences, and yet it dawns on you once more that you'll be living with this man for a long while before one of you moves out. [read on ao3.]
pairing: shen xinghui (xavier) x afab!reader
length: 3.8k words
tags: alternate universe, roommates au, roommates to lovers, no evol abilities, 18+ MDNI, smut, explicit sexual content, plot what plot/porn without plot, porn with feelings, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, grinding, kissing, rough sex, vaginal sex, penis in vagina sex, spanking, dirty talk, creampie, the sex is all in reader's head, reader is self-indulgent, eventual smut
[part 2. (coming soon)]
this containts 18+ content, minors do not interact.
xavier.
sure, he's totally handsome. from his soft, youthful face that gives the vibes of a prince from a fantasy game you once played during your teens, and his athletic build with broad shoulders, defined chest, and narrow waistline—he's the depiction of every woman's ideal man. even with the way he speaks, it was almost able to make your legs quiver from the mere low and gentle register of his voice.
the way he behaves inside your shared apartment. in the first few weeks, you find his innocence, cuteness, sometimes playfulness with subtle friskiness or a combination of all so attractive that you slowly and surely develop a teeny-tiny crush on him.
your heart trembles for him in every big or small gesture that you deeply adore about him. the more he's willing to help you with whatever chores and errands around the apartment, the more he smiles or laughs as he leans towards your frame during deep conversations at night on the terrace—you can't handle the somersaults and sparks that your heart keeps doing.
and maybe you realize, it isn't just a teeny-tiny crush anymore.
then work came.
the inevitable idea of not seeing each other anymore 24/7. every morning you wake up and go to work, and go back home with exhaustion and pass out on your bed. sometimes you can't even remember making your way to your bedroom whenever you pass out in the living room, only to find out xavier is the one carrying you to your bedroom when he brought the topic up during lunch on a weekend.
xavier happens to have a more flexible working schedule than you. when you come back from your workplace, he's already there before you. either you arrive at the apartment to dinner waiting on the table, or you arrive to find him making dinner. on some occasions, rarely, when you're earlier than him, you make sure to do the same, so it doesn't get too one-sided.
until one night came, work was hectic that night that you had to shut your phone so you don't get any distractions from anyone messaging you, unaware of the messages coming from xavier you didn't see on that same night, telling you to eat dinner outside since he couldn't prepare at the apartment. after finishing up paperwork around nine in the evening, you didn't even bother opening your phone again. and because you're too tired to reach your phone from your bag, you accidentally walk into something you shouldn't have witnessed.
the apartment is dark, except for the lights coming from xavier's room that seep through the crack under the door. your face burns in shock when the groans from the other side of the room register in your ears. the sound of his short breaths as he is at the point of falling over.
you don't remember how long you were standing at the main entrance before dragging yourself to your bedroom quietly, having no idea what just happened.
maybe he had a stressful day at work? or something had kept him up that whatever he did was a way to give him relief?
what the hell are you saying?
the more you try to sleep it off, the more your mind wanders to the sounds that escaped his lips. the way he'll lean back on the foot of the bed with one hand gripping the white sheets beside him while the other pumps his cock, desperately catching up to his release with pre-cum already slipping out and spilling from the slit of the head. it drips down around his length and hand, an electric shockwave taking over his body before going still.
you mentally punch yourself in the face. that's not the right thought process that should have gone through.
you try shaking the thought off, but it's already too late when you happen to feel the ache blooming below your stomach. your skin burns at the thought of your roommate carefully slipping between your wet folds. your face flushes and your forehead stains with your sweat as you visualize yourself under that man.
his innocent demeanor completely absent. he looks down at you with no light in his eyes as his large hands fly to your bare skin, touching you everywhere, and his lips pressing sloppy wet kisses on yours.
"fuck." you whimper, imagining his cock burying inside you while setting a brutal and passionate pace of his hips rolling against yours. you imagine wantonly crying out from every thrust of his hips, digging your nails into his back until the scratches burn his skin. you can't help but slowly move your hand down to push your pants down to your ankles before it slips into your underwear.
the soundproofing of the complex is great, and it's what your grandmother recommended before you moved to live here. however, the walls are not that thick inside the apartment, meaning that if one listens carefully, they'd definitely hear whatever is happening on the other side.
remembering that you're just a room away from him, you silence yourself with a palm over your mouth to conceal the noise eliciting from you. you push your underwear farther to the side, feeling the cool air inside your bedroom blowing your exposed skin. the coldness of your fingers meets with your folds that glisten with your wetness, before you push the pads of your fingers as you drag them in a steady circular motion.
within moments, you sink into your indulgence. your breath hitches, biting back a moan as silently as possible while pushing two fingers in and out of you. you close your eyes, the squelches of your digits make you wish how it was xavier's dick thrusting in you with fervor. it's not enough, and you wish the real thing were inside you, taking you. the thought turns you on even more.
"xavier—" you imagine him wanting you to lie on your back as he pounds on you hard, hard that it makes you gasp and leaves you breathless. you want him to spit at you, telling you that you're a naughty girl who touches herself at the thought of him jerking off. you want him to smack your ass so that you moan his name to do it again. you wish that he's murmuring all the nastiest things to your ears, telling you that you feel so good around him, that you're his, and that only he gets to fuck you this good.
something builds up inside you, like a tidal wave is about to crash at any moment. you curl them deeper inside, and you arch your back, losing yourself in your own filthy pleasure that is evident from the way your chest heaves faster erratically, your legs spreading wider, your toes curling, and your hips bucking upwards.
you return to the fantasy of him fucking you with absolute zeal. the way his hips accelerate at a much faster pace than before, and his hot breath fanning your neck, makes you feel dizzy. the way you want to feel his hips stutter as his cum releases inside you until you pass out together. your vision blurs, tears pooling in your eyes in ecstasy.
the incoherent and shaking noises coming out of your lips become a manifestation that the torrent is almost about to arrive, and you frantically quicken the pace of your fingers until something crashes within you. time slows down in a matter of seconds, and trails of unending shockwaves send down your limbs and nerves.
you take a few moments to catch your breath as you stare at the ceiling. you cover your fingers with your wetness as you pull them up to look at it. you dirty the sheets with your orgasm, and now your senses begin to be hyper-aware of your surroundings.
it dawns on you what you've done. you pull yourself up from the mattress to cover your face and utter a muffled scream. you got off to him getting off, and the mere fact that your dirty thoughts pushed past your ego is enough to make you feel absolutely embarrassed.
the apartment has also gone suspiciously quiet after a while. did he hear you? maybe you breathed too loudly? or the bed creaked too much?
your feet have gone ten times lighter when you tiptoe your way to your bedroom door to take a peek outside, the noise coming from his room has died down, and the light that seeps through has dimmed.
you retreat to lie on your bed, tossing and turning for the next few hours. not an ounce of deep slumber has taken over you. from the dark of night, it slowly turns into a shade of blue-orange. the sun shines through your curtains and paints the walls and floor with a hue of brightness. as for you, dark eye bags appear below your eyes, hoping for your boss to maybe give you a day off for only this day, just so you get a good rest.
there's no doubt that she won't give you one, so you sigh, having no choice but to attend another boring work day with all the paperwork you'll have to deal with later.
you drag your body to rinse your face at your connected bathroom before coming out to find xavier making coffee in the kitchen.
okay, calm down. leave whatever happened last night and stay composed.
"good morning. i didn't hear you coming back last night." xavier greets, pouring the hot water into two mugs as he mixes it with a teaspoon. your heart drops in an instant. his eyes fall on you when he turns around, waiting for you to respond.
the sound of the background music of the kahoot plays in your head while you envision two options floating above his head of whether to just confess your sins and crimes before this man or run away from him this second.
confess, you freak! your internal demon voice yells in your ear. no, don't! your internal wailing voice yells in your other ear.
"oh, good morning." with a wave of your hand, you yawn as you move towards the table and take a seat at the far end. "i saw your messages and ate outside. i also walked for a while at the park near the complex before coming back. i think it was around 11? i can't even remember anymore."
no. you masturbated to him masturbating last night. but you're not gonna tell him that. you're never gonna tell a single soul of it. that's the last thing you want to say to him or anyone.
smooth liar, you also thought to yourself. you notice xavier's lips curving before turning back to the counter, still preparing the coffees. as he does, you stare at his back. broad back covered in a black tee, and strong legs wrapped in gray sweatpants.
an imagination flashes in your head of him bending you over that counter, taking you from behind.
you swear you're gonna die right here, right now.
the thought bubble pops when xavier places the mug down on the table before handing it to you. the coffee's steam ascends to your face, and you inhale the scent of the coffee beans mixed with milk and sugar. "thanks, but i didn't get any sleep last night."
"no wonder your eyes are all red. should i get you water instead?" he's about to walk over to the fridge when you stop him. "no, it's okay, actually. i have work today after all. my boss will kill me if she sees me sleeping at work." the response makes xavier chuckle, moving the chair to sit down beside you. the proximity holds you in a chokehold, and you feel your heart's about to drop to your ass at any moment.
as much as you show how much the whole incident doesn't make you awkward, it does, and it's killing you that he's sitting beside you like you didn't just get off thinking of him fucking you like some kind of freak.
maybe you'll consider changing to a different complex before he even gets to figure it out. you'll take it with you to the grave if it means necessary. you shudder at the thought of the consequences, and yet it dawns on you once more that you'll be living with this man for a long while before one of you moves out.
"when do you clock in?" you hear him ask. you turn your head to the clock above the television and see that you still have two hours and thirty minutes to prepare. "before 9, since i still need to get a taxi to get there."
"then i won't take any of your time. i'll be in my room if you need anything." xavier gets up with the mug in his grip and waves his hand in the air, returning to his room and leaving you alone. a big sigh leaves your lips, staring at your coffee that's about to get cold.
another few weeks have passed since the incident, and said incident hasn't left your mind. a guilty pleasure that keeps haunting you when you close your eyes every time the sky darkens. your mind keeps wandering back to that night, and you wish you had opened that door to blow him off, and he takes you there on his bed.
maybe it's your horny thoughts speaking, but you can't stop thinking about it.
you can't stop thinking about xavier.
his presence inside the apartment taunts you. you begin to interpret every move of his actions as something else, something more than what you are to each other. it's not healthy. every time you think of him like this, you feel the aching pressure below, and it's embarrassing that you're feeling this kind of sexual attraction towards a roommate who doesn't even see you in that way.
but you can't help it. you can't help the way your hand dives into your underwear. you can't help the way you push them deep inside that you think of his dick. you can't help the way you feel your orgasm trickling out of you to reach another satisfaction that soon leaves you asking if this is right.
you want him so bad, your desires of wanting him to fuck you rough and hard, your longing for him to hold you in his arms and kiss you.
you're aware that you're the only person in the apartment for the meantime, as xavier had told you beforehand that he'll be out with his colleagues for dinner. that means you can do whatever you want without anyone stopping you, and that includes having to relieve the dampness that you feel between your legs.
it sticks to your underwear as you look to your right to stare at your body pillow. the one that always gives you comfort when sleeping? well, it's about to give you another kind of comfort this time when you ride on it.
you're so lucky you're all alone tonight.
you grab a fistful of the fabric as you swing your leg over it, putting your weight on the soft cushion. give an experimental grind, and you let out a soft moan, falling forward with your elbows steadying on the mattress.
god, how you wish he's looking up under you right now. you wish that every grind of your hips is a low, gentle angelic groan coming out of his mouth. you wish that every grind is his hips bucking up against you to match your energy with his hands gripping tightly on your waist. it makes you throb against the pillow.
this dirty fantasizing turns into a habit you didn't expect to become hooked on. all the wishes of him doing and saying the filthiest things to you is something you didn't expect to become addicted to. you feel so guilty, but in the end, it makes you the most satisfied person in the world.
just as your climax is about to climb up to its peak, there's a knock on your door outside.
shit.
your heart's at your throat, and you immediately pull yourself away from the pillow with an almost silent huff. is he already home? how? how come you didn't hear the door open? maybe that's karma for you, but fuck. there's no way you're opening that door. there's no way you're gonna face him and look him in the eye without acting like everything's normal.
xavier's voice emerges from the other side, calling for your name. it's almost as if he's concerned, as if something happened with you.
yeah, he denied your orgasm, that's what happened! but you don't want to complain to his face about that.
you scurry over to the door to open it ajar while you hold onto the handle tightly. you find him standing there wearing a black blouse and slacks, his expression clearly a face of worry. "xavier? i-i thought you'd be out for a while."
there comes a stutter in your voice. you can't give yourself away now. a lump leaves your throat as you wait for him this time to respond to you.
"sorry if i came back early. i brought take-out since i found out my colleagues planned to go to a nightclub." xavier explains with a hand on his nape, then gestures towards the table where he had already set and prepared the food. "i… didn't want to come along, so i dipped and grabbed take-out instead."
this only proves that he's been here quite some time while you were in your bedroom humping on your pillow like some rabbit on heat. why didn't you hear him from outside? you're so lost in your pleasure that you didn't hear the door open nor him preparing the table. "a-ah… really? color me surprised, then, it's a relief you didn't go. but you're gonna have to wait a bit, i just need to go to the bathroom to freshen up."
"yeah," he breathes out. "no problem."
he looms over your figure, looking down on you with an expression you're sure you saw flicker for a second. since you already excused yourself, you try to close the door to give some privacy to compose and groom yourself before a hand—his hand stops the door from fully closing, and you swallow. hard. you're done for, and there's nothing to get out of this alive. his eyes find yours in the darkness of your room as you both stare at each other for a few seconds.
then his mouth opens, "were you doing something earlier? i heard a lot of…breathing inside."
an arrow shoots down at you. sadly, it's not enough to kill you on the spot, and you wish it did.
also, for a man who respects boundaries, this is the first time he has shown curiosity about what you do in your room. "n-no—i mean yes, i was…i was just exercising." you ramble. with the way you're under pressure, it’s flustering you, rambling to say the first thing that comes to your mind. you know too well he won't believe you, especially that you're in your pajamas.
"…in your pajamas?" it raises his suspicion that something isn't right. the uncertainty in his eyes lingers under the tense atmosphere between you. he already caught you in your lie. "you weren't exercising, were you?" he sees right into the plot hole, and you curse yourself internally.
may the heavens above take you here and now.
playing pretend won't help you, no matter how hard you try to look reasonable in front of him. it's obvious with the way you can't hold your gaze straight, the way your voice falters, and the way your sweat flushes your skin. you've been caught, and you need to tell him the truth. confess, you freak! your demon voice returns to yell in your ears once more before it disappears again, leaving you all alone to handle what's next to come.
"i-if i said yes, will you stop bugging me about it? of course, i was doing something else. you…you just caught me in the middle of something, so if you'll excuse me—"
you try to move his hand away, and the sudden push of the door towards you startles you, stumbling backward.
"i didn't say you can close the door on me."
you watch something switch in him. his voice is still gentle, yet the way he moves is someone else. and not gonna lie, it was slightly turning you on. xavier takes a step towards you, one at a time, towering over your figure until you feel the back of your knees hitting the bed and fall behind, your butt landing on the soft mattress.
"x-xavier, what's going on with you—"
"tell me what you were doing." he cages you in between his legs as he looks down at you with an intent to divulge your secrets. it's the first time you're watching him becoming into another man in real time. it's neither playful nor tender. that innocent demeanor shifts into something darker, and you cannot seem to gather your words in front of him.
"x-xavier, for…for a man like you, you shouldn't be i-insistent on knowing what i do behind…closed doors."
"and you think i don't know what you do behind closed doors? you think i didn't hear you touching yourself, thinking about me that night? the following nights? you tried so hard to keep quiet, but the second that mouth of yours betrays you, i—i tried to be the good man here, but the way you say my name that you want me…it's driving me insane. you drive me insane. now you can't look at me because i already knew from the very beginning."
how his words silence you in a matter of seconds that you can't even look at him anymore. your face is red with embarrassment and humiliation, yet the adrenaline creeps up in your nerves with the anticipation and idea that fantasy and reality are finally merging together. the xavier you’re fantasizing slowly mirrors the xavier in front of you. his fingers capture your chin, lifting it up to lock your eyes in his.
the light in his eyes is gone.
it's undressing you bare, and you feel fire igniting straight to your core.
never mind moving out if he finds out.
you want him so bad.
"show me how you did it."
"w-what—"
"touch yourself for me."
he pulls his hand away from you, moving away to walk to your vanity table. he grabs the chair away from the table and places it in front of your bed before taking a seat on it. his arms cross against his chest as he stares at you with hunger in his eyes.
"come on, you don't want your audience to wait, am i right?"
Rafayel x Fem Reader. 18 plus content MDNI. Rafayel is mean. Manhandling. Rough sex. Edging. Reader and Rafayel are manipulative and possessive. Potentially ooc.
I wrote for this for @thewrldx playlist event. Please check out J’s blog she is amazing! Thank you to @txtworlddom for proofreading :D
You knew you had no right to be as upset as you are now. You were the one who broke up with Rafayel, but you couldn't help the jealousy overtaking you as you read the latest tabloid article.
Famous Artist Rafayel Qi Seen Walking into Hotel with Opera's Newest Darling Singer.
Of course it made sense he would date someone like her: artistic, talented, and beautiful. But it had only been two months since the breakup, you didn't expect him to have moved on so fast.
It was painful looking at the paparazzi shot of them laughing, arms linked so close together. You can no longer stand to torture yourself, so you toss your phone and mindlessly watched TV.
Rafayel's love was all-consuming. He was right when he said that Lemurians lived for love, but his love felt suffocating to you. His constant need for attention. His desire to always be near you. It was too much for you. You needed your space, so you left.
Even though you had been the one to initiate the break up, you couldn't help but miss him. You were starting to regret your decision.
You missed the way he smiled every time you entered the room. You missed the way he sensed your bad moods and always knew how to make you feel better. You missed the playful banter between you two. You missed the way he touched you.
Rafayel knew your body better than you did. Sex with him was addicting, and nobody could ever fuck you the way he did. Was he fucking his new girl like he fucked you? Did she scream out his name as he pounded his cock into her? Did he litter her with love bites claiming her as his? You were getting yourself angry. It wasn't fair, you were the one bonded to him. He was yours.
You noticed his checkered cardigan on the couch next to you. He had left it at your apartment before the breakup. Sometimes you wore it when you missed him because it still smelled like him.
In a moment of jealousy and pent-up lust, you texted him.
You left some clothes at my place. Can you come over?
You expected him to ignore you, but a few minutes later he texted you back.
Sure. I'll be there in a hour.
Was this a bad idea? You thought to yourself. Rafayel would arrive soon. You waited on the couch wearing only a pink satin robe. The one that Rafayel gifted you to comfortably lounge around in. You did your hair and makeup and you even wore the perfume that was irresistible to him.
Your plan at least was to make him jealous. You'd be lucky if you got him to sleep with you. You be potentially making him cheat on his girlfriend. It’s not cheating if he’s still yours, the devil on your shoulder whispered.
The doorbell to your apartment rang. When you opened the door, you were surprised by what you saw. Rafayel looked haggard. His usually nicely styled hair barely looked like it had been brushed. He had dark circles under eyes. He seemed thinner than the last time you saw him. Instead of his nice fashionable clothes, he was wearing a simple black tee and dark jeans. A pang of guilt hit you. Rafayel was taking this breakup really hard.
"Hey how have you been?" You awkwardly ask.
"I'm fine" he replied coldly "I just want to pick up my things and then go." Of course he's still mad; he has the right after all. That's doesn't do anything to quell your hurt from his attitude though.
You motioned him to follow you into your bedroom. The cardigan was on your bed neatly folded. You handed it him. "I washed it for you already."
"Thanks." You noticed the way he kept glancing at you and your body that was barely covered by the robe. "Are you going somewhere?" His curiosity got the better of him.
"Oh I'm going on a date."
"With who?" He asked nonchalantly. You noticed him step closer to you, caging you in between his body and the bed. He was falling for your trap. You did your best to give a neutral expression and hold back a smile.
"I met him at a dinner party my friend hosted. We hit it off. He seems so nice and he's pretty cute."
"You don't waste anytime do you." He venomously spat out.
"I could say the same about you. Why do you even care anyway? It's not like we're together anymore," you move closer to provoke him. "If you can fuck opera singers, I can fuck whoever I want."
"You're right." He responded nonchalantly again but you knew him well enough to know he was getting jealous. He clutched the cardigan tightly in his hand, as if it was holding his emotions in.
You move closer to him and gently grab his forearm. "I understand you still being upset but I wanna remain friends at least. I can cancel my date and we can hang out instead."
"What would we even do?"
You grab both his shoulders and looked up at him sweetly. You let your perfume envelop him. Your lips were only centimeters apart. "What ever you want us to do."
His eyes darken. "I see what you're doing." He pushes you on the bed and forcefully grabs your chin. "You tell me I'm suffocating to be with but I'm still good enough to fuck." His words stung you but you couldn't back down now.
"It's clear you still want me though, don't you?" You press your knee on his crotch, causing him to let out a whimper.
He pushes your knee down, "You're mine, you belong with me. I won't let you leave me."
"Then take me."
He scoffs. "I'm not going to give you what you want that easily. Take your punishment like a good girl."
Rafayel's hand ran slowly up your leg, slipping underneath the robe. "Fuck." He touched your bare cunt. "When'd you become such a slut? You're not even wearing any underwear." He slid his finger between your folds."You're so wet already. You knew what you were doing huh? Barely wearing anything. Wearing that perfume that smells so good on you." He let go of your chin and untied your robe. Your bare body was exposed to him like you were defenseless prey.
"Open your legs. Don't move." You obey him and spread your legs apart. You gasp when he suddenly pushes in two fingers into you. He thrusts them in and out while his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. You had forgotten how good his fingers felt inside you. They were so much longer than yours and could reach deeper then your own could.
"Yes Raf…like that…fuck." You moved your hips, wanting more friction. Rafayel forcefully held them down with one hand. "I told you you're not allowed to move. Do it again and I'll stop." You nod and kept yourself still.
Rafayel pushed his fingers further in, instinctively finding your g spot. The pleasure made you see stars. Your moans grew louder.
"You're so needy. Looks like you haven't gotten off in while. Have you let another guy fuck you?" You shake your head. "No only you."
"Good. I would have had to kill him for touching what's mine."
The familiar tension within you was ready to snap. "I'm gonna cum." Rafayel suddenly pulled his fingers out. Your poor pussy throbbed around nothing. "No why" you whine.
"Silly girl. You don't get to cum until I tell you to." He pushed his fingers into you again. So began a torturous pattern where just as you where about to climax, Rafayel stopped.
"Raf please" you beg "I wanna cum."
"Alright since you been behaving for me so nicely." He unbuckled his belt and pull out his cock already leaking with precum.
“Did you miss my cock? Tell me you missed it."
"I missed your cock so fucking much." You were delirious at this point.
Rafayel folded your legs and pushed himself completely in. Your warm walls sucking him easily. He pounded roughly into your cunt.
"Fuck… your body missed me. You're taking me so well." His movements were getting sloppy and needy. "Did you miss how good I fuck you?" A yes barely slips out from your lips.
His pounding was merciless. Each thrust of his cock made you cry out in euphoric pleasure. You knew weren't gonna last much longer not after being edged so much.
"I'm gonna cum."
"Me too… cum with me." Rafayel kissed you with passionate desire. His lips tasted so divine you never when want to part from him again. Your climax hit you hard. The sensation of you squeezing him made him cum inside you.
"Do you miss me at all? Because I miss you so much cutie." You were brought back down to reality from your blissful state. Your heart tugged at the old nickname. "Did you ever love me as much as I did?" He looked you with so much yearning and heartache.
Another pang of guilt hit you. You grabbed his face between your hands. "I did love you a lot. I still do." You admit to him.
"Then why did you leave?"
You did your best to hold back your tears. "Because I'm an idiot who gets overwhelmed about her feelings. I was insecure that I couldn't reciprocate the way you love me. I'm sorry I should have told how I felt instead of running away." You reach up, hugging him tightly.
"I forgive you cutie. I knew you would come back to me. Did you really think I let you leave my side? All you needed was a little push." He wiped your teary eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"That actress is my aunt's prodigy. She got a little too drunk at an after party. I took her back to her hotel so she wouldn't have to go alone. I also knew paparazzi was hiding near by and I thought it would be good opportunity to get your attention."
"So you used her to make me jealous." You huff.
"Weren't you using the same tactic on me just now."
You turn face away from him. "At least he wasn't real." He chuckles. His laugh made you feel lighter, you had missed it so much. He sweetly kissed your forehead. "Promise me you won't leave me anymore because if you do I'll have to lock you away."
You giggle. “As if I would be crazy enough to do that again."
xavier is not aggressive or angry when he holds you. he’s quiet and unyielding. he’s like a star that slowly pulls you into its core until you can’t move.
right now, he has you pinned flat on your back beneath him. he has been teasing you for over an hour with his fingers, leaving your cunt feeling completely raw, swollen and dripping. your thighs are shaking hard. your whole body is overstimulated from the wait and the feeling is almost too much to bear.
“xavier, stop being mean,” you whine, your voice shaking as you try to nudge him. “i-i can’t just lie here anymore. my legs are shaking. put it in, please?”
xavier does not rush. he looks down at you with those heavy, dazed blue eyes. his soft hair falls over his eyes, making him look all sleepy and gentle. but no. your xavier isn’t always so innocent. and right now he’s tormenting you.
but his hands are clamped tightly around your wrists. he holds them to the bed above your head with effortless strength. you try to pull your hands away, but you can’t move against him.
“you’re too impatient, star,” he murmurs, a small lazy smile touching his lips. “i’m going to ravish you all night. slow down.”
“i don’t want to slow down,” you huff, arching your hips to try to force the issue. “just...just fuck me!”
xavier lets out a soft breathless chuckle, followed by a sigh. he shifts his weight slightly, rubbing the thick wet head of his cock right against your sensitive clit. you let out aa sharp gasp, body jumping from the feeling. but he uses his thighs to lock you completely down.
“look at me,” he commands softly.
“i am looking,” you whimper, tears of frustration blurring your eyes. “i’m l-looking right at you. xav, please...don’t make me wait any longer..”
his eyes glow with a faint, warm light in the dark room. xavier stares down at you with a quiet, deep possessiveness that makes your heart race.
“good girl,” he whispers, gaze softening just a bit. “hold onto me.”
slowly, he sinks his hard cock into your wet warmth. xavier dosen’t slam into you, not like most other nights. instead, tonight, he slides in, inch by inch, letting you feel every part of him. and god, does it feel good. his cock is buried of so perfectly inside you, like he’s meant to be there forever.
“ah! oh...mm,” you gasp, your head hitting the pillow as your eyes go wide. “x-xavier....s-so deep..”
he lets you feel every single bit of him stretching your poor walls to the absolute limit. he goes deeper and deeper, until he’s bottoming out right against your core. his tip hits your cervix and you let out a loud broken main, clamping around his shaft like a vice.
xavier lets out a low groan, heavy and breathless at the tight squeeze of your pussy around him. he buries his face in the side of your neck, inhaling your scent, pressing sloppy kisses. then, he begins to move with a lazy yet hard rhythm.
thrust. thrust. thrust.
his cock starts pounding into your wet folds, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. your toes curl into the sheets as his tip abuses your cervix, the pleasure almost blinding. every time you try to twist or speed up the pace, his grip on your wrists turn to iron. he forces you take his heavy thrusts.
“xavier....nghh—! wait...t-too much!” you sob, pulling weakly at his shoulders. “i’m going to come, c-can’t hold back.”
“then don’t,” xavier pants against your skin. his thumb moves to trace your jawline, holding your face up so you look into his hazy eyes. “you’re so warm. let me feel it. i want you.”
your thighs are shaking, your eyes are rolling back and all you can focus on his the way his cock is hammering against your g spot, threatening to snap the right coil growing in your lower stomach.
“i-i’m coming..!” you scream out against his lips, your fingers digging into his back.
the overwhelming closeness and the steady, slow rubbing drive you completely over the edge. the coil break, and you shatter around his cock.
xavier’s finally breaks. he lets out a low, breathless groan, driving his hips down hard three times to bury his full length. he holds himself deep inside you, a soft golden light radiating from his skin to warm you both as he releases a thick, hot rush of seed deep into your pulsing cunt.
as the waves of pleasure slowly fade, xavier doesn’t pull away. he collapses softly on top of you, careful to shift most of his heavy weight onto his elbows so he doesn’t crush you.
“are you okay?” he asks, his voice incredibly tender as he tucks a damp strand of hair behind your ear. you nod.
he presses a long sweet kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips, tasting himself on you.
he wraps his strong arms securely around your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest as his body finally relaxes. he rolls onto his side, taking you with him so you are completely nestled into his embrace, head resting on his chest.
the studio is always quiet in the evenings. aside from the sound of waves hitting the shore and the occasional seagull call, it was completely quiet.
you hadn’t expected to be back so soon. the mission was supposed to stretch out for another three days, but the lack of wanderers had driven you back home ahead of schedule. you dropped your gear by the door as you wandered into rafayel’s home, looking for any trace of him.
he wasn’t home. but there was an open leather-bound sketchbook on couch.
you didn’t mean to pry (lying), but a stray charcoal edge caught your eye. when you turned the page, your breath caught. it was you.
there were dozens of them. peaceful sketches of you asleep. sharp, dynamic lines of you during training. soft moments of you laughing. rough, playful doodles of you angry. he had catalouged every single emotion, every micro-expression, studying your features as if he were afraid the universe might try to erase you from his mind.
a familiar smell of fresh ocean water and citrus wafted behind you.
“cutie?” his voice cut through the silence.
you turned, the sketchbook still in your hands. rafayel froze, his gaze darting from your face to the pages. he crossed the room in a few fluid strides, closing the distance between you two.
“snooping through my collection, aren’t ya?” he teased, booping your nose.
your face immediately warms. even with his playful front, you can still see the slight tension in his shoulders, the quiet vulnerability of an artist who had just been exposed.
“it was just laying here, practically calling me to come look,” you counter, your voice softened, affected by the weight of what you just saw. you look back down at the sketchbook, your thumb tracing the page where he captured you smiling. “how long have you been drawing these?”
he lets out a dramatic, theatrical sigh, tilting his head as he feigned being deep in thought. “how long? probably since I first saw you,” he said casually. “it’s a medical condition at this point. my hands just move on their own.”
“so this is from the past year?” you ask.
“since I first saw you, cutie. not met you,” he smirked.
he steps closer, his chest brushing against your shoulder as he leans over to look at the book with you. he turned towards the beginning pages. “look at this one,” he murmured, his tone shifting from playful to entirely fascinated.
he stops on the sharp, ink filled page of you in your combat gear. your expression was fierce and unyielding. you recall it being the first time you and rafayel fought a wanderer together.
“you always look so serious when you’re focused. I think that lemon guy was intimidated,” he said. “although, you make that same face when you’re trying to build legos.”
he turns to the next page. sure enough, you’re making the same face. but this time, your hands held small plastic blocks rather than a weapon. you giggled at the sight.
“is there one you haven’t drawn? you practically have everything in here,” you said, flipping through the pages.
rafayel’s gaze darkened, his hands coming up to find your waist as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“there is one…” he said softly. “one I haven’t been able to get right.”
a shiver went down your spine as he pressed his front against your back, letting you feel the growing bulge in his pants. “what is it?” you asked, breathless.
“I haven’t been able to capture your face when you’re in pure bliss,” he murmured. “I always get…carried away.”
the implications that hung in the air caused your panties to dampen.
“maybe you just need a live model,” you offered.
that’s how you found yourself spread out on the couch, naked, while rafayel sat in front of you, sketchbook on his lap.
“you gonna draw me like one of your french girls?” you teased.
rafayel chuckled, his hand brushing against your inner thigh. “you’re my only girl,” he said softly.
his fingers brushed between your folds, pressing gently against your clit. you sucked in a breath, face contorting in pleasure. the sound of charcoal against paper began to fill your ears.
“you’re a beautiful model, cutie,” he whispered, his finger dipping into your cunt. he thrusted in and out slowly, curving just right to brush against your spongey walls.
you moaned, your legs spreading wider for him, hips thrusting against his hand. your eyes were glazed over and hazy, drunk with pleasure. “m-more,” you whined, reaching out to tightly hold his wrist.
he didn’t pull back. instead, he slid another finger in as his thumb rubbed your clit. Rafayel’s gaze remained locked onto your face, tracking every twitch of your lips and every flutter of your eyelids. he barely looked down as his other hand moved with masterful precision against the sketchbook, perfectly capturing the exact moment you unraveled for him.
“g-gonna..!” your voice cracked as your body spasmed. a gush of cum drenched rafayel’s hand as he stroked you through your high.
your body slumped against the cushions as he signed his sketch.
“I think I’m gonna need one more,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “you make a different face when it’s my cock.”
After another assassin interfered in your mission, you’re tasked with eliminating him. But what do you do when he turns out to be none other than your husband?
(Heavily inspired by the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005), but you don’t have to have watched it to read it.)
✧ Xavier x fem!reader
✧ Word count: 17.3k
✧ Content: mdni 18+, violence, no Evol, Alternate Universe, cameos of other LIs, fluff, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, oral f receiving, vaginal fingering, softdom!xavier, jealousy
✧ read on ao3 ✧
Up on the roof, the wind blew relentlessly. Despite the cloudless sky, the glare of the midday sun was no match for the biting late autumn air, raising goosebumps on your exposed arms.
You heed it no mind as you remained motionless with your gaze fixed on the opposite building through the scope, the brim of your cap shielding your eyes from the blinding rays of sunshine. In a couple of minutes, the target should be brought to the 28th floor, right where your sniper rifle was pointing at.
“Status?” Tara’s voice sounded through the comms channel.
With a quick press on your earpiece, you responded, “Took up designated post. Awaiting target. What’s the ETA?”
“Three minutes. Target is brought to the elevator,” she said. You checked your watch. “Once you’re done, proceed to the rendezvous point.”
“Copy.”
Your focus shifted back to the building across the street. Steadying your breathing, your fingertip hovered over the trigger as you waited for the target to step out of the elevator and into your line of sight.
Sudden movement caught your eye, prompting you to look up from the scope. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
A window cleaner ascended on his lifting platform, climbing steadily up the building’s facade. To your annoyance, it stopped directly in front of the window for your intended shot, blocking your view of the elevator.
There shouldn’t have been any cleaners scheduled for today—you had made sure of it—and instinct told you this wasn’t a coincidence.
After checking your watch again, you stretched your neck and tightened your hold on the handle. You spun the rifle, locking onto the cleaner and tracking his movements.
Male, athletic physique, clad in black clothing, face obscured by a cap and sunglasses. So most certainly not a civilian, and he wasn’t even hiding it. Something metallic reflected the sunlight, drawing your attention to his hands. Your eyes narrowed to slits. Was that an MP7 he was loading?
He would ruin your shot, leaving you no choice but to take him out first. The guards inside would be alerted, your cover blown, but there was still a chance for a second shot at the target, if you reloaded fast enough.
“T-minus ten seconds,” Tara announced.
You cursed under your breath. It was a gamble, but there was no time to think of a better plan.
Forehead furrowed in concentration, you took aim and pulled the trigger, the silencer swallowing the shot. The bullet missed him by a hair—as if he had anticipated it, he had dodged to the left. Surprised, your eyes widened. It was a clean shot. How could you have missed him?
His head whipped in your direction, but you were already moving your rifle to the window behind him. Without a pause, you swiftly reloaded, scanning the inside of the building for the target.
Your missed shot had found its mark somewhere beyond the window, sending the guards inside to scramble into action. As soon as the target emerged from the elevator, hands tied and surrounded by four heavily armed escorts, he was tackled to the ground to shield him from incoming bullets.
They hadn’t spotted you. Instead, they aimed their guns at the window cleaner, but he was already shooting at them, shattering the glass in the process.
Heart pounding in your chest, you tried to remain calm as you searched for an opening to the target—but to no avail. Too many people covered him. The window cleaner guy was also unsuccessful, as his element of surprise had been ruined by your failed attempt to eliminate him. The two of you couldn’t get a clean shot.
The last thing you saw of the target was a flash of purple hair before he was crowded by more guards and dragged away to another room.
Shit.
With the target gone and the guards firing at him, the window cleaner guy held onto a rope attached to his belt you hadn’t noticed before, pressed a button, and gracefully let himself be pulled upwards toward the roof.
On his way up, you locked him in your viewfinder, inhaling deeply, and on your exhale, you fired. The bullet managed to graze his leg, but he didn’t seem particularly impressed. While one hand was gripping the rope, the other held up his submachine gun and aimed in your direction.
The hail of bullets missed you—only because you had dropped to the ground, pressed flatly against the concrete. One of them struck your phone that was propped on the border, sending it flying across the roof. Fortunately, it was only a work phone for missions.
You remained pressed to the floor as you frantically packed your gear, then you sprinted to the exit.
“Status?”
“Target got away,” you panted as you ran down the flight of stairs, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Unidentified individual interfered. Mission aborted.”
“Copy. Extraction point was moved. There’s a car waiting.”
When you reached the ground floor, you dashed outside and straight into the black van waiting at the curb. With a frustrated exhale, you took off your cap and ran a hand through your hair. As you drove by, you looked out the tinted window to the building, but he was already gone.
Your head hit the backrest as you slumped against it. Andrew glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards at your disgruntled state. “It went excellent, I take it?”
At your answering glare, he held up his free hand in surrender, but the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.
You two had been locked in a constant battle of snarky comments and competitive bickering since the day you had begun working for the Hunter Agency. Despite being a team and all that, you both tried to one-up each other every chance you got. And you failing an important mission such as this one, was like a heaven-sent opportunity for Andrew to tease you. Especially considering you had recently been declared the agency’s best operative and appointed to this task because of it.
When you arrived at Headquarters, everyone was staring, their eyes following you as you made your way toward Simone. Her frantic hammering of keys on her keyboard told you she was just as tense as you were. You dropped your bag with the rifle onto her desk, prompting her to look up. A startled pause before her eyes widened.
“She already called,” was all she said, and it was all she needed to say.
Simone nodded toward Tara who was on a call. When Tara spotted you, a barely perceptible wince crossed her face. She walked over and handed you the phone. With one last unconvincingly reassuring smile, she hurried to her own desk.
In the car, you had mentally prepared for the inevitable reprimand of your superior in her familiar cold tone laced with disappointment. At the mission briefing, she had stressed how critical the success of this mission was, and now that you fumbled it, you would have to live with the consequences.
There was no exchange of greetings as you placed the phone to your ear. “You have 48 hours to eliminate the other agent, otherwise your compromised identity leaves us no choice but to relieve you of your duties,” Jenna declared, and a shiver went through your body.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’ll make sure to leave no trace.”
With that, the call ended.
Staring at the opposite wall and slightly confused how Jenna had reached the conclusion that your identity was compromised, your thoughts were racing. You didn’t think he saw you well enough to recognise you, but that didn’t matter as long as your boss believed he did. In order to get out of this mess, you had to find out who he was, who he worked for, and then take him out.
Your hand tightened around the small device as you turned to your team. “Find him.”
Simone was already reviewing the footage of all the security cameras in the proximity while Tara and Nero checked for any digital footprint.
Without meeting your eyes, Nero requested your work phone for the analytics, and, with a surge of added frustration, you realised that, in your haste, you had left it behind after it got destroyed.
Sinking into your chair, you buried your face behind your hands. You had been careless, made one mistake after another like an amateur. Dealing with this required efficiency and error-free execution, so whatever happened today, couldn’t repeat itself.
You just had to find him first.
-
Your drive home was spent in frustrated silence. You parked your car in the garage next to your husband’s silver Aston Martin and navigated your way through the familiar path of your yard to your front door, your rose bushes that won you the neighbourhood garden award two years in a row lining the way.
“Hey Mrs. Shen!” a young boyish voice called out from the sidewalk. For a heartbeat, you looked accusingly heavenward, as if some kind of higher power had deliberately decided that today would be your worst day.
Hand lifted in the air in greeting, the browned-haired son of your neighbours jogged towards his house.
“Evening Caleb,” you greeted back, already turning to your door.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. He was a little charmer, always complimenting you and asking if you needed help whenever he caught you in your garden shed, thinking you were about to do some gardening. In reality, that was just where you had your weapons reserve.
However, you couldn’t shake the feeling he had an infatuation with you as his compliments seemed to walk that fine line between flattering and inappropriate, each time becoming more shameless. Besides, he was the reason you didn’t hang your clothing outside to dry anymore, since some of your underwear kept mysteriously disappearing. Considering both his fathers weren’t interested in women, and with no other neighbours around, it only left him as the culprit. Or a postman, but that was unlikely.
Of course, you never mentioned any of that to your husband. Even though Caleb was just a teenage boy—despite him constantly insisting he was “mature for his age” accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows—you didn’t believe that would necessarily keep your husband from trying to strangle him. He was, after all, a jealous man.
Not that you particularly cared, but you suspected one of Caleb’s fathers to be an arms dealer, and you simply didn’t want to start a fight with the local gang. As long as your neighbour didn’t interfere with your business, you wouldn’t interfere with his.
“Your new curtains in the living room look great!” Caleb shouted over to you, his face split by a wide grin.
“Thanks!” you shouted back and unlocked your door with your fingerprint.
Wait. But before you could have asked how he knew you had new curtains—not even your husband had noticed them—Caleb was already gone, swallowed by the shadows behind the driveway to his house.
Shaking your head, you took a deep breath. You had more pressing problems.
“I’m home,” you announced once you were inside. The smell of your husband’s cooking wafted over to you from the kitchen as you shed your coat. He was making hot pot again. He usually reserved it for days when one of you was feeling down since it had always been your shared comfort food. The spicy broth and tender meat reminded you two of the day you first met, a memory steeped in warmth and laughter.
-
It was at an old hot pot place in Chansia City. A seemingly innocuous location, but in the backroom, nestled right next to the illegal gambling room, was where one of the city’s crime lords conducted their money laundering. The local police wanted to get rid of them in one go, a simple breach and clear operation. However, your agency favoured a more subtle approach. So they sent you to discreetly eliminate him.
The ‘discreet’ part had proven to be more difficult than expected, and due to unforeseen problems, you were forced to make a rapid escape before one of his henchmen could spot you standing over their boss, who was bleeding out on the floor, wide, empty eyes staring into space. Unfortunately, they had heard noises and began investigating.
When you re-entered the restaurant through the ‘staff only’ door, you saw him. In a booth alone, bathed in the last rays of sunlight shining through the window, he sat calmly eating his hot pot while absorbed in a comic book—a stark contrast to the gruesome scene just moments before. The way the light was caught by his silver hair cast him in an almost ethereal glow and held your gaze captive.
Something drew you to him and from one moment to the next, you found yourself sitting across from him in his booth. At your sudden appearance, he looked up from the page he was reading, blue eyes blinking twice as if he was verifying your existence before they assessed you with open curiosity.
“Is this seat taken?” you blurted out like a fool, as if you hadn’t already sat down.
“It’s now,” the silver-haired stranger responded, tilting his head. A simple statement delivered with a matter-of-fact tone and no hint of sarcasm.
Under the weight of his full attention, you became hyperaware of your own words and movements, causing you to feel uncharacteristically nervous. Just a minute ago, you most certainly hadn’t felt nervous when you punctured the heart of that dude in the backroom.
As if on cue, the door to said backroom was thrown open, and three of the henchmen stepped out, handguns barely concealed by their suit jackets. As they scanned the restaurant, searching for the culprit who killed their boss, they appeared to be looking for people who were alone.
He followed your gaze to the visibly agitated men questioning customers and stalking through the place with concentrated purpose. Leaving the restaurant right now would raise unnecessary suspicion, so the best course of action was to stay and convincingly pretend you belonged there with the handsome stranger in front of you.
“I’m Y/N.” Why you revealed your real name to him, you couldn’t say.
To your surprise, he silently pushed the bowls brimming with an array of vegetables, meat, and other ingredients closer to the middle around the steaming pot, and offered you a pair of chopsticks. “Do you want to join me, Y/N?”
Your mouth curved into a smile, but it faltered once you noticed the amount of food on the table. “I’m sorry, were you waiting for someone?”
“No,” he replied, and already resumed eating. Something soft gleamed in his eyes when he glanced at you and added, “But I don’t mind company.”
Wow, it seems he has quite the appetite. It could easily be assumed he had ordered for two, considering the mountainous pile of food between you. That made your little act in front of the henchman all the more convincing. When they arrived at your table, you were pretending to be very engrossed in enjoying your meal.
“Hey, did you come here together?” one of them asked, coming dangerously close to scrutinise you two. Trying your best to maintain your composure, you shot an anxious look over to the man across from you, but his eyes were solely fixed on the meat simmering in the pot, his chopsticks moving with elegant precision.
“Yes,” he simply said, not minding them at all.
To an outside observer, you likely looked just like any other ordinary couple on a date. That was probably why they left without another word.
You released the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and allowed yourself to relax in your seat. Now that the situation was taken care of, there was an amused smile on your face as you regarded him more closely. “You haven’t told me your name.”
He paused to meet your eyes, offering a smile in return. “I’m Xavier.”
You sat there for hours, finishing your meal and talking until the sun had disappeared behind the buildings. Outside the restaurant, he hadn’t hesitated to say, “I want to see you again.”
Enjoying his directness that belied his unassuming appearance, you accepted without having to think about it. Your attraction was undeniable. He wasn’t just handsome, he was beautiful. Soft silver-blonde strands, striking blue eyes, and a lean, firm body sculpted by years of training as he was working for the police.
Beneath his stoic, calm demeanour, he possessed a remarkable boldness and effortless confidence that left you wondering what else he was hiding behind his feigned innocence.
You found out rather fast. Usually, you would wait until you got to know someone better, but Xavier managed to get you on your back—among other positions—already after the first date. That something that had initially drawn you to him kept pulling you in, like a moth you were drawn to his light.
Falling in love had never been an option in your line of work, not to mention maintaining a long-term romantic relationship, but you found yourself willing to try.
Seven months later, you got married.
Every one of your friends thought you were crazy, that you were rushing things, but you knew, with a certainty that couldn’t be put into words, that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.
And that remained true, on your end at least. Xavier, however, seemed to have changed his mind a year into your marriage.
At the beginning, it was like a dream. Lingering touches, stolen kisses, the comfort of his presence, and morning sex before sleep had barely released you from its clutches.
But then, a shift.
You didn’t know what caused the change, but suddenly he withdrew. He became like a distant star. No matter how many times you tried to reach for him, you could never bridge the widening space between you.
So eventually, you stopped trying. Instead of living together, you began to simply exist in the same house, leading two separate lives and drifting apart day by day.
-
And here you were. Two years later.
“How was your day?” you asked as you entered the kitchen and greeted Xavier with a kiss on his cheek—a gesture that was more routine than a show of affection.
He had changed out of his police uniform, now wearing a white hoodie, and his hair was still slightly damp from a quick shower he must have had before you arrived home.
His “Uneventful,” was delivered without taking his eyes off the chopping board, only pausing the cutting of the beef into slim slices to lean down and receive your kiss.
That was his standard response. Your conversations had settled into a predictable pattern of disinterested questions, hollow answers, and polite small talk. You never probed, nor did he. Sharing stories of your day while cuddling on the sofa belonged to the past. Sometimes, though, you caught yourself reminiscing, wishing back the Xavier, who had let you be part of his life and who wanted to be part of yours.
“How was work?”
“Ah, you know,” you waved off, already distracted by your phone, checking for updates on the agent you were searching for. He shouldn’t be too hard to locate since you had CCTV footage of him, and considering you had wounded his leg with a graze shot, maybe your team could find some drops of blood as well.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Xavier’s left leg seemed to tighten with tension with each step he took as he began to set the table. “Are you hurt?”
“I bumped into the counter edge before you got here,” he explained, but you weren’t listening as a notification redirected your attention back to your phone. You had received an email from Simone. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find any trace of him on the roof of the opposite building. Nada, not even signs of the rope he had used to pull himself up. Your work phone was nowhere to be found as well.
You let out a frustrated sigh, slamming your phone face down onto the countertop with more force than necessary. Time was of the essence. Tomorrow, you needed to find him, or you would have trouble eliminating him in the given time frame.
After a silent dinner, the both of you retreated to your separate routines. While he would usually settle himself on the sofa, playing videogames or reading a book, you would go upstairs, step into a hot bath, and enjoy your evening downtime on your own.
Once you had gotten ready to sleep, part of your bedtime ritual involved going downstairs and waking Xavier, who, without fail, managed to fall asleep every day in the most interesting of gaming or reading positions imaginable.
A short while later, he would join you in your shared bed, plopping down on his side and drifting off to sleep almost before his head hit the pillow. No talking, no cuddling, and most certainly no shared intimate moments.
Prior to his sudden withdrawal, he had been something close to insatiable. Once he got his hands on your skin, it was hard to detach him from you. Not that you ever complained. That was why you found yourself missing being close to him every so often, a quiet ache of wanting pulling you to him, and wondering if he ever missed you in that way too.
Your mornings were spent similarly. As if to maintain the illusion of a happy marriage, you left the house at the same time and exchanged perfunctory greetings with your neighbour Dr. Li, who had to leave for work as early as you—the complete opposite to his husband, who usually didn’t leave the house until late in the evening.
In front of the garage, Xavier kissed your cheek and wished you a good day before getting into his car. “Dinner’s at seven,” he said like every morning. You hummed in acknowledgement and got into your own car. It always was.
And this was your everyday life with your husband.
Watching him drive away, the last glimpse of his car disappearing around the next corner, you asked yourself: would he always stay the distant star you couldn’t reach?
-
Tara brought you a cup of coffee when she noticed you slumped over your keyboard. Despite already having had a cup at home not that long ago, you accepted it and took a sip, the hot liquid doing nothing to soothe the anxious knot in your stomach. You hadn’t slept that night, too busy thinking about ways to find the other agent and about your time running out.
To get to your current position, you had poured everything into this job. Years of relentless effort and countless sacrifices later, you were finally where you wanted to be, and you were unwilling to give all that up just because of a single failed mission.
A shadow suddenly fell over you, and a glance upwards revealed a tired looking Simone, stifling a yawn. She must have spent the night reviewing all the CCTV footage.
“This is all I could find,” she said, and after handing you a tablet, she returned to her desk. Leaning back in your chair, you propped your legs up on the desk and checked the video files she had neatly prepared.
Whoever he was, he had been careful. Barely any security camera had managed to capture him. And then later, it was as if he simply vanished into thin air.
The building’s security footage showed him as he climbed onto the lifting platform. Something in the way he moved seemed familiar, yet you couldn’t articulate why. Frame by frame, you examined him carefully. The quality left something to be desired, and the cap and sunglasses he wore made it hard to see any distinguishing features besides a flash of blonde hair peeking out from beneath the cap.
The last frames revealed his lower body as the lifting platform ascended. You paused. Sitting up in your chair, feet hitting the ground with a thud, you zoomed in as close as the grainy quality allowed and stared at your discovery.
There was something poking out of his pants pocket. The shape resembled the star tassel keychain you had made for Xavier’s birthday last year, since he insisted on having a physical key for your house even though he could open the door with his fingerprint.
This was just a couple of pixels, surely your brain was simply recognising patterns and matching them with something familiar.
Yet, your heart began to race as you rewind the footage and checked everything about him a second time.
The way his body moved, the muscles straining under the black compression shirt, was like seeing a movie you had watched a thousand times, and his hair wasn’t just any shade of blonde, but one you encountered regularly in your house, on pillows, in the shower, and sometimes on your own clothing.
You weren’t able to rationalise the unsettling truth right in front of your eyes. Especially when you spotted a ring. It was impossible to discern any pattern on the silver band, but you felt a terrifying certainty that it had a star in its center, just like your own.
There was no doubt as to who the other agent was. You stared at the screen frozen in disbelief, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs.
It was your husband.
-
Dinner was at seven.
In the garage, you remained sitting in your car for a while, contemplating your next move. Xavier’s car was parked next to yours. That meant he was already cooking dinner. Or preparing an ambush.
Did he know that you were the sniper on the roof? Was he also assigned to take you out like you were him? You had been given 48 hours to get the job done, to clean up your mess. Otherwise, you would become their next target. That left you with no other choice than to end it today.
Without realising it, you had started to fidget with your wedding ring. Looking down on it now gave rise to a cocktail of mixed feelings. You had been married to this man for three years now, and it was hard to believe that everything between you had been a lie.
Even though you hadn’t been honest with him either, you had genuinely fallen in love with him. Xavier was gentle and kind, possessing a quiet dominance that made you feel some type of way. He knew how to set a trap, how to lure you in with his eyes and soft voice, and before you knew it, he had you right where he wanted.
Perhaps your marriage was some kind of elaborate trap of his as well, exploiting you for cover and playing house to raise no suspicion. Considering how distant he had become over the last two years, it was highly likely that he had no feelings for you to begin with and simply portrayed the infatuated husband until he was sure you wouldn’t leave him.
If that was true, then he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. However, it was still a gamble. You couldn’t be sure that he knew of your actual job and involvement in yesterday’s mission.
But did it matter? There was only one unchangeable fact: you had to eliminate him, or you would get killed yourself.
You exhaled, rubbing a hand across your face. Then, you opened your glove compartment and pocketed the gun you had stored there, tugging it in your waistband. That should be enough for now.
As you unlocked the front door, you peered through the glass but couldn’t see anything suspicious. After hanging your coat, you followed the sounds of sizzling oil to the kitchen where Xavier was standing at the stove, pan-frying steaks. Ironically, he was wearing his ‘number one husband’ apron you had bought him for Christmas two years ago.
“I’m home.”
“You’re just in time,” he said after you gave him the obligatory peck on the cheek to greet him. Since he seemed to be acting normally, you had to keep up the act too.
He handed you a glass filled with colourful liquid. An orange slice was draped over the rim, and the ice cubes inside cooled your clammy palm. “I made your favourite cocktail.”
You eyed him carefully as he turned back to the stove, flipping the steak in the pan. Would he poison you? There was no change in his behaviour—he was as calm and composed as ever. Still, you wouldn’t drink from it just yet. Instead, you asked, “Is there something to celebrate?”
“Does there have to be a special occasion to drink cocktails?”
“I guess not.” Discreetly, you scanned your surroundings. Pretending to be busy stirring the ice cubes around, you added casually, “Did you not make one for yourself?”
“It’s already on the table,” Xavier responded, and motioned with his head to the doorway leading to the dining room. He told you to sit down, dinner would be ready soon.
On your way to the adjacent room, you emptied the contents of your glass into the next flower pot. When you sat down at the already set table, you placed the steak knife slightly closer within reach. Shortly after, Xavier joined you and put one of the steaks on your plate.
The clinking of cutlery against porcelain was unnervingly loud in the otherwise quiet room as silence settled over the two of you, the air thick with tension. While you piled the vegetables on your plate, your mind raced. How could you find out if he wanted to poison you or not? Maybe you could feign an illness in order to get out of having to eat anything altogether.
Just as you were about to open your mouth, Xavier broke the silence. “How was your day?” Usually, you kept your small talk to a minimum and ate without talking, but today he even sought eye contact with you from across the table.
“Uneventful,” you replied, deliberately using his own words.
One corner of his mouth briefly quirked up before settling into a neutral line again. “I read the Linkon Central Bank had cut interest rates by 0.5%. That must have been a stressful day for you.” He kept his voice in a conversational tone, but you didn’t miss his scrutinising gaze as he studied your facial expression.
In all that excitement, you hadn’t kept up with the news or checked the latest figures. Xavier believed you to be a broker, representing a large trading company and overseeing their investments. A cut in interest rates would mean the investments were likely to suffer losses as stock value decreased, putting you between a rock and a hard place.
Was he…testing you? If so, his question could be a bluff, a trap. At this moment, you couldn’t possibly check if the LCB truly had announced an interest rate cut. If what he said was true, today would have been a stressful day indeed.
You had no choice but to go along with it for now. “Yeah, that did cause some problems. But nothing I couldn’t handle.”
The last part you had said while meeting his analysing stare head on, an unspoken challenge. If he was actually testing you, you wanted him to know you were ready. His face remained unnervingly stoic. He was a closed book, offering no hint of his intentions.
“Do you want some music?” he asked, stirring the conversation in a different direction. Xavier was already out of his chair and standing in front of the shelf filled with his extensive CD collection before you could have answered. You never quite understood why he insisted on buying physical copies, even though you had a streaming service subscription.
His sudden movement made you tense, and your hand reflexively shot out to grab the handle of the steak knife, hiding it in your lap. When a gentle melody began to play from the speakers—a tune you knew intimately—your grip loosened, confusion and surprise momentarily flashing across your face.
Clearing your throat, you quickly composed yourself. “Cocktails, our wedding song… Are you sure I haven’t forgotten our anniversary or something?”
“If it were our anniversary, I would have brought you flowers.” He tilted his head to observe you with a small, playful smile.
That was true. He always gifted you the biggest, most beautiful bouquets you had ever seen, each year’s arrangement more vibrant and extravagant than the last. The way he meticulously chose the flower types and colours rekindled a flicker of hope that he was about to transform back into the loving husband from the beginning of your marriage. However, his usual distant behaviour returned the very next day.
The bouquets came from his best friend Jeremiah’s flower shop, who had been his best man at your wedding. You hadn’t seen him much since then.
Xavier looked at you expectantly, one hand extended toward you. You hesitated, assessing him then his outstretched hand cautiously. It could be another trap.
“I’m really tired and—”
“Just hold on to me,” he interrupted, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’ll do the rest.”
Despite every instinct screaming at you, you rose from your seat, concealing the steak knife swiftly under the napkin, and accepted his hand. Once you were in front of him, he pulled you close, his other hand finding its place on your waist. His blue eyes didn’t leave your face, and you were unable to look away too. The soft sway of the music accompanied you as he guided you elegantly through your dining room. You hadn’t been this close to him for a while and the smell of his cologne enveloped your senses.
It was difficult to understand what his plan might be, because at this point, you were convinced he had one. You had to stay vigilant and resist the magnetic pull of his gaze, the expanse of his eyes threatening to drag you into their depth. But it wasn’t easy. The whole situation plunged you back into the past, triggering a flood of memories of your wedding day. Come to think of it, back then he had looked at you the same way he did now.
Lifting his arm, he twirled you around, and when you faced him again, he pressed you even closer to him than before, the sudden closeness of his face making your breath hitch and your heart skip a beat.
His eyes travelled down to your lips and then back up, as if asking for permission. But you had stopped breathing, and all you did was stare at him, eyes wide and lost in anticipation. You hadn’t even realised that he had paused your waltz.
Slowly, he leaned closer, and your eyes fluttered shut instinctively, waiting for the pressure of his lips. Instead of on your mouth, you felt them brush against your jaw, a fleeting touch that then traced down the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Your grip on his biceps tightened as your heart picked up its pace, still waiting for him to finally kiss your lips while his hand on your back slid along your spine.
With a jolt, you shot your eyes open and tried to shove him away. But it was too late. Xavier had felt the outline of the handgun tucked in your waistband through your clothes and tightened his hold on you.
In a quick series of motions, he pulled it out from under your blouse and carelessly dropped it to the floor before spinning around and pushing you against the shelf, caging you in with his broad frame. His CDs rattled from the impact.
How could you have fallen for the most common trick in the book? Like a love-struck idiot, you had let him toy with you like that, and he didn’t even kiss you.
Damn him and his stupid, innocent-looking face.
“Do you want to explain to me, honey, why you’re carrying a gun in our house?” His voice was deeper than usual and there was a threatening gleam in his eyes.
“I could ask you the same thing, honey.” It was a bluff, but from the way his eyes narrowed, you knew you had guessed right.
You didn’t wait for him to make the first move. Raising an arm, you reached it across to push his arms down, creating an opening to knock your elbow against his head and forcing him to release his grip. As he was slightly bent over, you held onto his back, followed with a kick to his stomach, and then slammed him into the shelves next to you, causing CDs to clatter onto the ground.
Xavier recovered faster than you had anticipated, blocking the path to your gun that was lying on the ground behind him. “So it’s true,” he said to himself rather than to you, and rubbed the spot where your elbow had made contact. What confused you was that he didn’t look angry, or particularly surprised. But there was a proud little smile playing on his lips.
Not giving him the time to collect himself, you charged forward and delivered one punch after another. However, he manoeuvred his body gracefully out of the way each time you tried to kick or strike him—a fluent dance you weren’t sure who was leading.
The fact that he wasn’t attacking you back, instead dodging effortlessly your every move, ignited a white-hot fury and simmering frustration within you. If he truly had a weapon hidden on his person too, then why wasn’t he drawing it?
Once you were close enough, you grabbed the steak knife from the table and flung it at him with practised precision, but he simply stepped to the side, the knife getting stuck in one of the paintings adorning the walls.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Your aim certainly has room for improvement.”
You huffed in response. You had a feeling he didn’t just mean the throw, but also your missed shot during your double-assigned mission.
His teasing, competitive side was coming out. It reminded you of your dating phase when you had visited a fair with a shooting booth. You had pretended to be bad at it, but after he shot each target perfectly, saying he “got lucky” with his feigned innocence, you had insisted on having a go again, fuelled by a stubborn need to wipe the smirk off his face. The giant bunny plushie in your bedroom was a memento from that day. The owner of the booth probably gave it out to finally get rid of the two of you.
Doubling your efforts, you advanced on him and unleashed a series of blows and kicks. He pivoted on his heel, a blur of motion as he bowed under one of your swings. With a swift grab, he caught your wrist and pulled you aside, causing you to stagger past him.
Despite not being able to hit him, you managed to make him back up and get closer to your gun. Xavier seemed to read your intention as he cocked his head after effortlessly dodging one of your attempted attacks yet again. “Go on, pick up the gun.”
You froze in place, irritation flashing in your eyes as you met his gaze. The confidence behind his words was unsettling. What game was he playing?
Not letting him out of your sight, you slowly retrieved the gun from the floor. He didn’t stir, but his eyes tracked your every movement as you raised your arm, aiming for his head. Still, no reaction. As if he was waiting for an answer to a question, he wouldn’t voice out loud.
Taking a step closer, he remained rooted to the spot, a silent challenge in the quirk of his raised eyebrow. Frustrated by his lack of response, you closed the distance between you. Your hand was trembling as it held the gun under his chin, forcing his head to tilt slightly backward.
However, you didn’t pull the trigger.
Xavier looked down at you through his silver strands of hair, his eyes holding your gaze. “You can’t do it.” It wasn’t a question. He had immediately clocked your hesitation, probably way earlier than you would like to admit. In a last attempt, you narrowed your eyes and pressed the muzzle harder against his chin.
“Fight back!” you demanded, frustration raw in your voice. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
“Because I can’t do it either,” Xavier responded calmly.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. You studied his face for any signs of deception, but were only met by an open honesty in his unwavering gaze.
He was right. You couldn’t do it. Despite his distance in the last two years, you cared for him and found yourself unable to shoot the love of your life, even if it meant disregarding your own.
“I assume you were also giving a time frame to get rid of me,” he began and snapped you out of your thoughts. He didn’t wait for your answer. With his low, soft tone, he continued, “I’m not planning to kill you.”
At last, you dropped the gun with an exhale, your chests rapidly rising and falling in sync. For a moment you regarded one another. The longing in his eyes took you by surprise even though it was a reflection of your own. “They will come for us.”
“Let them try.”
With the adrenaline still high in your systems, you crashed your lips together. There was nothing gentle about the way you devoured each other, both desperate for the taste of the other, familiar and intoxicating. It had been a long time since you had been intimate. Like a spark, your sudden need was ignited. Your hands were roaming, the need to touch every single part of him overwhelming.
Feeling his shoulders relax, Xavier sighed into your mouth, as if he had been hoping this would happen. Your back hit the nearest wall as he pressed you against it. As he kissed down your neck, your hand found purchase in his silver strands, holding on tightly, causing a groan to escape his lips.
His hands explored the skin beneath your blouse before they glided down your body and then hoisted you up, your legs reflexively wrapping around him. He made his way through your house, stopping only to restlessly place you on a sideboard or a table and remove one piece of clothing at a time while not breaking away from your lips or your neck.
When he pulled your blouse over your head, he immediately made it his mission to litter the newly exposed skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses, making you gasp and arch into him. You tugged at his hoodie in a silent plea, one he complied with in a rapid, impatient motion.
Before you could get lost in his touch, he was moving you again, carrying you up the stairs while your mouth didn’t leave his neck. Occasionally, he would pause to chase your lips, as if he couldn’t be apart from them for too long.
Once you had reached the bedroom, he dropped you onto the mattress, and after removing his shirt, he followed closely behind. The only clothing left on you were your panties. Your head was already foggy, unable to recall when he had taken off your bra. One of his many skills was stripping you naked with such swiftness that you barely realised he had started before you were already bare underneath him.
Your hands reached down to free him from his pants, but he stopped you, simply getting a hold of your wrists and pinning them above your head.
“Not yet.”
There it was. His quiet dominance, his careful control.
After kissing and exploring your mouth with his tongue, igniting a fire in your core, he let go of your wrists and planted kisses along his descent. Each searing kiss was more heated than the last as his lips left small red marks behind. Sucking, licking and claiming each part he had claimed before once again, making sure you remembered who you belonged to. He wasn’t just mapping you anew with his mouth but retracing his path from a time long past.
Your nails scraped across his naked back and arms, scratching his bare skin whenever he sucked on a particular sensitive spot. You could feel how he got more impatient with each scratch and tug at his hair.
One of his hands trailed down from your throat to between your breasts to your stomach while he looked at you reverently, having missed this view and the feel of your skin. Like a predator watching his prey squirm before they devour it.
When Xavier reached your thighs, you felt his hot breath against the wet patch on your underwear, making you unconsciously shift closer. His amused chuckle prompted you to open your eyes. “Someone’s eager.”
Just as you were about to quip back that he was just as eager as you were, he bit your thigh—an unexpected, piercing sting. You inhaled sharply, the pain short-lived and replaced by a rush of pleasure as he soothed the skin with a languid lick, your legs already shaking from his attention.
“I love it when you’re trembling because of me,” he rasped with his half-lidded eyes looking up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed some kind of friction. “Xavie, please,” you whined. In your desperate state you hadn’t realised that you had said his nickname you hadn’t used in the last two years.
His eyes darkened with lust, glinting with something dangerous, before he impatiently tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them carelessly away. His mouth was on you a second later. A moan slipped past your lips at the sudden pressure against your clit.
Groaning at the taste, he nuzzled the lower half of his face deeper between your legs. His hands tightened around your thighs, holding them in place, as he draped them over his shoulders. “God, I’ve missed this.”
First, he broadly dragged his tongue up and down, lapping up your taste, and then flicked it against your clit. Your back arched, legs twitching, as you squirmed from the overwhelming pleasure.
“So responsive,“ he chuckled, opening his eyes a fraction to shoot you a smug look. “Your body is telling me it missed me too.”
You weren’t able to reply as he dove back in and swirled his tongue around your clit, shortly followed by a finger slowly pumping in and out of your hole. When he added a second finger and curled them in the exact angle he knew by heart, he picked up his pace, making you see stars as he managed to hit that one spot inside you over and over again.
Every time you glanced down, you were greeted by the subtle flex of his shoulder blades and the contentment in his expression. Despite the hungry way he ate you out, he looked serene, radiating an angelic calm.
Already lightheaded, your hips bucked to chase your release, you felt was close, your fingers fisting his silver-blonde hair. But he abruptly stopped his movements, prompting you to whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.
“Stay still,” he commanded, his voice remaining soft, but there was a darker undercurrent that made you clench around his fingers. “Or do I need to restrain you?”
Without waiting for an answer, he pushed your knees towards your chest and resumed devouring you. One hand kept your legs up and the other returned to their relentless mission of fucking you open. It took you a considerable amount of effort to remain still, not wanting to provoke him to stop yet again.
“I need to properly prepare you for what I want to do with you.” Xavier seemed to have noticed your struggle. “So be good for me, baby, okay?”
You nodded hastily, not fully registering his words.
He reduced you to a moaning mess, clawing at the sheets and legs shaking uncontrollably. Even when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he continued and coaxed another orgasm out of you. At one point, you had stopped counting.
Xavier had left you dazed, breathless, and still wanting more.
With one last, almost tender kiss to your pussy, he finally straightened, the lower half of his face glistening from your many releases. His hand reached up, his thumb caressing your cheek before parting your lips. Watching you closely as you blinked up at him blearily, he put two of his fingers in your mouth. Instinctively, you eagerly sucked on them, hollowing your cheeks and tasting yourself on his skin.
Xavier’s eyes were fixed on you, the blue of his irises eclipsed by his dilated pupils, and resembled a dark, hungry void threatening to consume you.
“Do you want to continue?” There was a hesitation to his tone, as if he wasn’t sure if he took it too far.
His question roused you from your daze, a smile spreading across your lips. “Yes, I do.”
His mouth was on you before you saw his relieved expression. His fervent kisses had you melting and desperate to finally feel him inside you. Your hands travelled down to his pants, fumbling with his belt. “Condom, Xavier,” you were able to press out and unzipped his fly.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from your lips to reach for his drawer and retrieved a condom. When he didn’t move and simply stared at the packaging, you asked if everything was alright.
“They’re expired.”
Oh. So that meant you hadn’t had sex for…a while.
He rummaged through the drawer but each one he found had the same expiration date. You might regret this later, but after years of nothing and the thrill of your fight still in your veins, you grabbed him by his neck and pulled him down to you again, kissing him urgently.
“Let’s do it without one,” you breathed, and he stilled, searching your eyes for any kind of hesitation.
“Are you sure?”
You nodded, and his ravenous eyes glazed with lust in response. The way he captured your mouth now was different from before as his tongue glided against yours in a sinful claim, shooting an electric tingle down your spine.
You and his hands moved with a shared urgency, making short work of his trousers and boxershorts. Fingers tangled in a frantic dance, both yearning to finally feel the other in a way you haven’t for so long.
Then, finally, he was bare hovering above you, pumping his cock a few times before settling between your legs. Your foreheads met, and you both sighed in pleasure as he slid inside. As if your bodies hadn’t forgotten, you moved in sync, the heat radiating from him overwhelming. His lips left yours in favour of kissing and sucking at your neck before travelling even lower to your breasts, teeth nibbling and biting the soft skin around your nipples.
Your gaze drifted to the window as a noise outside made your ears perk up. Xavier grabbed your face, forcing your attention back to him. His cheeks were flushed a rosy shade, and his eyes stared down at you with a stern intensity that bordered on a warning. “I guess I have to double my efforts if you’re this easily distracted.”
Your surprised yelp got stuck in your throat as you were suddenly flipped around and found yourself on all fours, his cock already sliding back in without giving you time to catch up.
“Wait,” you gasped, trying to stop him from going deeper. The stretch was too much. Even with his extensive preparation, you still needed time to adjust to his size.
“You’ll get used to it,” Xavier said from behind you, his tone carrying a finality, a command that left no room for disobedience. Taking a shaky breath, you tried your best to relax while he grinded against you, pushing in inch by inch. “See?”
He started slow, his hands holding your hips or trailing appreciatively down your back. “Look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed, planting a kiss on your cheek. You hummed, already lost in the sensation of his cock gliding in and out of your pussy in an agonising rhythm.
Then with his hand on your back, he pressed you down so that your face was smushed in the pillows and turned his unhurried movements to punishing thrusts. You cried out, your moans muffled by the soft fabric rubbing against your face with each slap of his hips.
His grip on you tightened, probably leaving you with bruises in the morning, as you held on to the sheets for dear life. Drunk on pleasure, your moans and sighs echoed through the room unrestrained. When one of his hands began to rub circles on your clit, the double stimulation quickly tumbled you over the edge. As you clenched around him, muscles tensing and spasming, you came with a strangled gasp and buried your face deeper into the pillows.
“That’s it, baby,” Xavier praised and squeezed your hips approvingly. Since your thighs were shaking, and you were barely able to hold yourself up, he took a pillow and placed it underneath you. “Lie down.” His command, firm but gentle, had you clench around him once more, causing a groan to escape his lips.
Now lying flat on your stomach, your ass elevated by the pillow, he hovered over you, your bodies almost pressed against each other. Showering you with kisses to the side of your face, his thrusts turned messy and even harsher as he chased his own release. Xavier observed your face with half-lidded eyes, mesmerised by the view of you mewling and shivering in response to every thrust. His heat and scent enveloped you completely and clouded your senses.
“Tell me you missed me,” he rasped, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
Your voice was swallowed by the mattress as you choked, “I–ah–I missed y-you.”
“I can’t hear you. Say it louder.” His hips slammed harder against you, rendering you unable to speak at all. His arm snaked around you in a sudden, possessive embrace, his hand settling on your throat before lifting your head and pressing you against his chest. “I know you can do it.”
Xavier was breathing heavily from the exertion, his hot breath raising goosebumps down your arms and spine. The pressure from his hand around your throat wasn’t enough to restrict airflow, but the dominating gesture sent a dizzying wave through you.
“I missed you,” you whimpered. “I missed you so much.”
A badly suppressed moan, followed by a stutter in his relentless pace announced his orgasm crashing over him. As he rode out his high, you felt the way he filled you up. Shortly after, he collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both steadied your breathing and calmed your racing hearts.
After giving you a kiss to your temple, he gently rolled you onto your back and took in your fucked-out state with a predatory smirk.
“I’m sorry, starlight. We’re far from done.”
-
Dawn just broke and a sliver of soft light found its way through a crack in the curtains and shone down onto Xavier’s collarbone. You couldn’t help yourself and bend down, kissing the soft skin all the way up to his face. He stirred a bit, but his eyes remained closed. The hitch in his breath betrayed him. Smiling to yourself, you smothered him with kisses until he finally opened his eyes a fraction, a smile curving his lips.
“Is it my turn now?” The rasp in his voice, deep from sleep, made heat spread in your core. In one swift motion, he had you flipped on your back, his weight pressing you down as he lazily trailed warm kisses down your neck. Your breathing came in shallow as your heartbeat quickened. He knew exactly where to apply pressure, where to nib gently, and where to suck harshly, to make you restless underneath him.
The sound of cars driving onto your driveway brought you back to the present. You and Xavier exchanged a glance before jumping out of bed. A peek out the window presented you with three SUVs, each with a couple of heavily armed men swarming your yard.
Your mouth set in a hard line. “They didn’t even wait until 48 hours were up.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Xavier said, his tone serious, while his eyes assessed the situation below.
Well, it surprised you a little. After all, you had been working for your agency for years now. You always completed your work with diligence. Fast and efficient, you were their best agent. But, of course, you were replaceable; everyone was. And you had a feeling Andrew was already jumping at the opportunity to take your place at number one.
The both of you quickly grabbed clothes out of your closet since fighting naked was not something you were keen to do. Xavier threw on a black compression shirt, the same one he wore back on your mission. Now up close, you could watch how the fabric clung tightly to his biceps and revealed just the right amount of sculpted abs. When he fastened a shoulder holster around his back, you forced yourself to look away, struggling to control your drifting thoughts.
You focused your attention back on getting dressed yourself, opting for an all-black outfit, mirroring his choice. “We need a car,” you mused out loud while putting on pants, an escape plan already forming in your head. Using one of your own cars would be too easily trackable since they were registered under your names.
“We’ll take one from the Li’s. They keep the keys in their garage,” Xavier replied. Once he was dressed and noticed your matching attire, his serious expression softened into an endearing smile.
Then, he reached underneath his bedside table, retrieved a handgun which had been attached to the underside, and tugged it in his shoulder holster. The leather straps accentuated his shoulders and chest, prompting you to glance over to him more than once.
In a secret compartment inside the closet, you got out a rifle. This was far from enough to face several armed agents with the sole purpose of ending your life. However, there wasn’t enough time to get to your weapon reserves, so you quickly made your way through the top floor of your house, collecting the few weapons you had stashed upstairs. In the end, you had a couple of throwing knives on your person, two handguns each, and your rifle.
The sound of breaking glass and the frantic pounding of several footsteps on your expensive red oak flooring made you press your backs against the wall near the stairs.
“We could climb out the window, escape over the garage,” you suggested, holding your rifle at the ready.
Xavier shook his head, one handgun in his hands. “They’re already waiting for us there. Besides, we would need to round the back of the house to get to our neighbour’s yard.”
You would be lying if you didn’t at least enjoy it a little bit seeing your husband like this. Serious, competent, with that tiny furrow between his eyebrows as he meticulously thought about how to escape out of your own home. “Sounds like you already have a plan.”
“First, we need more weapons. There’s a shotgun in the living room, behind the sideboard.”
Your position at the top of the stairs would have been ideal, but considering you wouldn’t have enough bullets to take them all down as they climbed the stairs, some likely attempting to gain entry through a window, it simply wasn’t a smart strategy to remain there.
“I hid another rifle in the dining room,” you added. “Now what? We just breach downstairs?”
Xavier held up a flashbang, one side of his mouth quirking up. “Yes.”
He raised his hand, counting slowly, and on three, he tossed it down the stairs. A loud bang echoed through your house, followed by a burst of light, and a chorus of groans and yelps of surprise. Straightaway, you slid down the wooden railing of the stairs and started to fire.
Their momentary confusion wasn’t enough to stop the other agents from shooting the instant they spotted you. Once you hopped down onto the floor, you took cover behind the living room wall, reloading as bullets whizzed past.
A glance at the bottom of the stairs revealed your bra, dangling forgotten and discarded between the beams of the railing. Ah, so that’s where it went.
With the hallway mirror, you assessed their position and gauged their movement. To cover for Xavier, you crouched down and sent a hail of shots in their direction, forcing them to run for cover. Shortly after, Xavier joined you behind the wall, taking over your position and your rifle while you quickly got the shotgun from where he had told you earlier.
Heavy footsteps came rushing closer. You shot the first person to appear in the doorway in the chest, the recoil slamming the handle against your shoulder and causing you to wince. A shotgun wasn’t usually your weapon of choice as you preferred stealth over brute firepower.
“Nice shot,” Xavier complimented and swiftly took out the next one. At his praise, you couldn’t suppress your smile.
This time, they came in as a group. You immediately switched between shots and close combat. You were just choking one of them, your arm pressing against the sides of their neck while your legs tightly wrapped around their chest, when a loud crash made you look up. As if they weighed nothing, Xavier hauled one agent over him, sending him sprawling onto your coffee table, shattering it in half.
Damn. From your vantage point on the floor, you were able to watch him fight three opponents at the same time. Just as he did during the fight with you, he effortlessly moved his body out of their range and neutralised them with unsettling velocity.
When, finally, the squirming in your arms stopped, you focused back on the task at hand.
As the first wave was taken care of, you rolled onto the couch, ducking behind the backrest. On all fours, you propped yourself up on the armrest and peeked at the doorway.
“Does this remind you of something?”
You felt Xavier’s hand glide down your back, a caress that stood in contrast to what that hand just did to those agents on the ground. “It reminds me of our wedding night.”
Surprised and slightly confused by his answer, you looked over your shoulder, finding Xavier kneeling behind you with a contemplative expression.
It dawned on you what was going through his mind, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. “Oh god, Xavier!”
“Ah, so you remember too?”
You quickly turned around again to hide your flustered expression, your cheeks burning from the memories of your first night as a married couple. Xavier had made a point to consecrate every room and every surface to your new status, turning it into a never ending night you wouldn’t soon forget. It ended with trembling muscles and a sore throat from all the noises he had coaxed out of you. The following days, you weren’t able to walk probably.
“I meant– You know what, nevermind.”
You were going to say it reminded you of that one time you and Xavier had thrown a garden party for the neighbourhood’s annual get-together, and got so tired and overwhelmed by everyone that you hid inside, using the sofa as a shield—just like right now.
After you had checked your inventory of weapons and ammunition, you proceeded to navigate through the house and dove back into the fray. It became clear that together, you were unstoppable. As if you had been fighting side-by-side for years, your teamwork was like a well-oiled machine. What one started, the other finished, making your way forward with a relentless, efficient rhythm until you reached the back door.
Once outside, you made a run for your neighbour’s garage, unleashing a barrage of shots at the approaching agents who had been waiting in your garden.
“Get the car. I’ll hold them off,” you told him and reloaded the shotgun. Xavier vanished almost instantly, leaving you amazed at how fast he was moving.
Several agents were closing in, so you jumped behind a bush for cover. You paused. From here, you had a clean view of your living room and your new curtains. “So that’s how he knew…”
Your neighbour’s Bordeaux-coloured pick-up truck screeched to a halt in front of you, and you quickly scrambled into the back seat behind the driver while Xavier shot out of the open window. The moment the car door slammed shut, he stepped on the gas pedal, accelerating around the corner onto the road at such terrifying speed that it threw you to the other side of the car with a sharp groan of pain.
“Sorry,” Xavier smiled sheepishly and gave you an apologetic look through the rearview mirror.
You climbed to the passenger seat and checked your magazine. “What’s next?”
“I know a place we can go.” His gaze flickered between the road and the mirrors. “We just need to get rid of them first.”
With his head, he motioned to the back and a glance confirmed the three SUVs closing in, a parade of black metal tailing behind you. He pushed the accelerator further, the increasing speed pressing you into the seat. As Xavier maneuvered the truck through the busy traffic, narrowly avoiding collisions and trying his best to lose your pursuers in the maze of the city streets, you seized the opportunity to get something off your chest. What better time than now?
“Why didn’t you fight back yesterday?”
Xavier glanced in your direction before focusing back onto the road. “I could never hurt you, even if you were out to get me.” A small smile curved his lips. “And I wanted to see how far you would go.”
Your head whipped in his direction, but his gaze remained fixed ahead. “I wasn’t sure if our marriage was just one big cover for you,” you confessed, your fingers fidgeting with the barrel of your shotgun.
As soon as Xavier hit the highway, the three SUVs blocked all three lanes and opened fire. “How could you think that?” he asked, genuinely confused. He yanked the wheel, swerving the truck to dodge the incoming bullets from the left side.
“You were the one who suddenly got distant after one year of marriage,” you reminded him while rolling down your window. “Are you aware of how you acted the last two years? How was I supposed to know you still have feelings for me!”
There was a beat of silence as he thought about your answer, and you leaned out of the window, releasing a volley of shots at your attackers. “You’re right,” he began once you were back in your seat. “I felt guilty, like I’d been selfish marrying you, because I was putting you in danger thanks to my job. I didn’t want to drag you into this world.” Mimicking you, he rolled down his window and sent a couple of precise shots behind him, effectively puncturing the front tires of one of their cars. “But as it turns out, I didn’t need to worry,” he added, smiling contently.
Returning his smile, you huffed playfully. “I wasn’t really careful during our first meeting. Didn’t you question me suddenly sitting down with you, trying to act innocent while the thugs were clearly looking for someone?”
“The second you sat in front of me I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”
Heat crept up your neck, but your private moment was disrupted when one of their SUVs pulled up closer and shot straight at you, shattering the back window and forcing you to turn away, shielding your faces from the flying glass shards.
In order to hide your face and the emotions that welled up, you announced to take care of them. Climbing to the back of the truck, you took cover behind the backseats, switched to the rifle, and shot at your attackers through the broken window. For a while no one spoke as you continued your assault, occasionally gripping the seat and bracing yourself against Xavier’s violent swerves.
“Since we’re honest with each other now,” you eventually shouted, your voice barely audible over the noise of the wind rushing in, the relentless gunfire of the other agents, and the strained roar of the truck pushing its engine to the limit. “You know the flowers that are sent for my birthday every year?”
“The ones from your parents?”
“They’re actually from my ex from university.”
When they were first delivered and Xavier asked who they were from, you had to improvise on the spot, claiming they were from your parents. After that, to hold up your lie, you didn’t tell your ex to ‘fuck off’ but instead let them continue sending the bouquets each year in order to not raise suspicion. It would have been odd if your parents suddenly stopped buying you flowers for your birthday.
Xavier’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “What’s their name and social security number?”
“No, you’re not going to kill them,” you chided with an exhale and turned your attention back to your pursuers.
Deciding to go on the offensive, you used the handle of your weapon to hack away at the shards framing the window before climbing onto the truck bed. When you stumbled across something and discovered two weapons under a blanket, among them a machine gun, you raised one of your eyebrows.
So Dr. Li’s husband really is an arms dealer. Might have been a bad idea to steal his car, but that was a future-you problem.
Quickly, you checked whether it was loaded and then positioned it in front of you on the tailgate of the truck. The incessant rattling of the machine gun reverberated through your body as you aimed at heads and chests, eliminating them, one by one.
One of the SUVs sped up and reached the side of your car. At the next moment, two agents jumped onto the truck bed and immediately engaged you in a fight. You knocked the weapon from the first agent’s hand with a precise kick before drawing one of your knives and lunging at him. After blocking the right hook of the second one, you slammed the blade into her throat and hurled her off the truck.
Xavier suddenly jerked the truck sharply to the side, ramming its flank against the other car and causing you and the remaining agent to stumble onto the ground, your bodies connecting with the metal underneath with a loud thud. Your knife flew across the air and landed onto the road.
Swiftly, you climbed on top of him and delivered one brutal punch after another. A spray of blood streamed from his nose, the crack of breaking bone barely audible above the chaos. With an angry roar, he threw his head forwards and smashed it against yours, the impact blurring your vision. Seizing the opportunity by your momentary incapacitated state, he reversed your position, and returned the favour by slamming his fists into your face.
Before you could have retaliated, a shot to his temple sent him crumbling to the side. Xavier had already turned back to face the road by the time you had realised what happened.
Scrambling to your feet, you continued your fight with the next agent who jumped onto the truck bed and quickly disposed of him by kicking him over the tailgate. When another SUV appeared on your other side, you yelled, “Xavier!”
“On it.” With a sudden jolt, he hit the brakes, causing you to fall forwards and hit your head on the roof. Xavier made a sharp turn off the highway that left the SUVs in front of you unable to turn around fast enough.
You rubbed your forehead while grumbling to yourself and climbed back into the passenger seat.
“I also have a confession.” He picked up your conversation where you had left off, as if nothing had interrupted you, and handed you a handkerchief which you used to wipe the blood from your face. “I never cooked a day in my life. But I want to though.”
Xavier explained that his agency prepared the food, and he only needed to cut the vegetables and reheat everything else.
At this very moment, you had no idea that letting him cook would turn out to be a horrible idea. You would remain blissfully unaware for at least another week before a fire in your kitchen confronts you with the reality that one of you would have to learn how to cook and it better not be him.
“I never even so much as touched the rose bushes,” you shared. “In fact, I hate gardening.”
Xavier’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Then how come you keep winning the gardening award each year?”
“You should ask our gardener,” you shrugged and attempted to turn on the radio. However, it was riddled with bullet holes and, unsurprisingly, no longer played any sound.
“We have a gardener?” His voice easily carried over the loud noises of traffic without him having to raise it much. “What other men did you invite into our house that I don’t know about?”
Rolling your eyes, you didn’t deign to answer him, and you didn’t need to. One of the SUVs suddenly appeared beside you and shot through the driver’s window. Xavier ducked, but the bullet grazed his arm. Leaning over him, you drew your handgun and shot at the front and rear tires, rendering them incapable of pursuing you further.
Once you were certain you got rid of them for good, Xavier slowed the truck to a more civil pace. “Your arm!” He let you examine it, smiling down at you as you carefully assessed the injury.
“It’s fine, it barely hit me.”
Meeting his blue eyes, radiating a calming stillness, convinced you he was telling the truth. You let yourself relax in your seat and asked, “Where’s this place you said we could go to?”
As one of his hands remained on the steering wheel, his other sought out yours and intertwined your fingers together. “You’ll see,” he responded and gave your knuckles a tender kiss.
-
At the sight of the flower shop of his best friend, you glanced at Xavier questioningly, but he was already pushing open the door. You were greeted by an explosion of colours and shapes in every size imaginable, the lush, fresh fragrance of the flowers around you filling the air. The bell announced your arrival as you walked in and a head of brown curls emerged from under the counter.
“I was hoping you would show up!” Relief was clearly written all over Jeremiah’s face. His smile faded when he took in the state you and Xavier were in. Your clothes were torn, stained with blood and dirt as well as the rest of your bodies, but it was your tightly clasped hands that drew his attention.
“We have a problem,” Xavier said. “I was hoping you could help us.”
With a sigh, Jeremiah motioned with his head to the back of his shop. He sat down in his office chair and offered you the couch, but you and Xavier remained standing. A look behind him at his desk revealed the remnants of your destroyed work phone. So that was how Xavier figured out that it was you. Jeremiah must be exceptionally good at what he did since he managed to find you with it, despite Nero’s meticulous efforts to keep your identity untraceable.
“There’s no easy way out of this,” Jeremiah began, his gaze darting back and forth between you. “You don’t just ‘have a problem’. Both the Hunter Agency and Philo Agency are out to get you.”
A quick acknowledgement passed between you and Xavier. So he was working for the competing agency. It wasn’t surprising since you had seen his abilities with your own eyes, and working for any other agency that wasn’t one of the top three would have been a waste of his skills.
“Your best chance of survival is to split up.” At Jeremiah’s words, Xavier levelled him with a withering glare. Throwing his hands up in surrender, he quickly added, “Or you bring them something they want more than you.”
You and Xavier exchanged a glance, a silent understanding. There might be a target both your agencies wanted more than you; the one you two had been tasked with eliminating a couple of days ago. Getting the job done might be enough to redeem you. Even if it did not, it was worth a try and better than staying idle.
The door opened, revealing a man you had never seen before, yet instantly recognised similarities to your husband. Beyond their shared silver-blonde hair, there were certain details in his facial features and overall demeanour betraying his connection to Xavier. However, while the stranger’s regal posture was laced with arrogance, Xavier’s possessed a self-assured elegance.
“You’re here.”
“Isaiah,” was all Xavier returned. He didn’t appear to be particularly happy to see this man.
Next, Isaiah turned to you and a look of disgruntled distaste washed over his face, but instead of addressing you directly, he addressed Xavier again. “You should have gotten rid of her right away, then we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
Now you had a pretty good idea why he hadn’t been invited to your wedding, despite them undoubtedly being related.
Xavier’s eyes darkened and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.” His threatening tone gave you a shiver. You never heard him speak like that before and your heartbeat quickened at him calling you his wife.
Jeremiah defused the tension in the room, even though he also looked like he wanted to kick Isaiah in the knee. “You can stay here as long as you need and sleep in my guestroom upstairs.” With a glance to Xavier’s arm, he added, “There’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom.”
Xavier gave a curt, thankful nod, and you offered Jeremiah a smile. On your way up, you heard a loud yelp.
“What was that for?!” Isaiah yelled.
“For being a jerk!” Jeremiah countered. Their bickering voices grew quieter with each step up the stairs and faded completely once you closed the door behind you.
The sudden silence was like a balm. It was the first quiet moment since this morning and your body finally released the knot of tension it had been holding.
When Xavier sat down onto the edge of the bed, the sleeve of his shirt soaked with blood, you eyed him concerned. “How’s your arm?”
“It hurts really bad,” he said in a feigned pitiful tone and patted the space next to him. “I think you need to come closer and have a look.”
You shot him an amused sidelong glance, not buying his act. Still, you couldn’t help but to smile at that and quickly retrieved the first-aid kit from the bathroom. Xavier watched you rummage through it before joining him on the bed. Although he clearly wasn’t in any pain, you humoured him and began to carefully clean the wound. It wasn’t deep, just a minor graze.
As you tightly wrapped the bandage around his biceps, he pretended to wince. “Shouldn’t you handle a wounded person more gentle?”
“I don’t think you particularly want gentle,” you remarked with a sly smirk, and tied the bandage together. “Here, all done.”
“Thank you.” Xavier looked at his arm and then at you, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “How can I possibly show you my gratitude?”
Heat crept up your neck at the way he was observing you. Tilting your head, you challenged with a low voice, “I’m sure you can think of something.”
Returning your smile, Xavier leaned closer, and meeting him halfway, your lips touched in a soft kiss. His hand came up to cup your cheek as he sighed into your mouth and pulled you even closer. The unhurried movements of his lips against yours made you melt into his arms, surrendering to his warmth and comforting familiarity. His other hand travelled from your waist down to your thigh with deliberate intent, and his tongue boldly demanded entrance into your mouth.
Even though you didn’t want this to stop, a sudden desire to mess with him ignited within you. You gently pushed him away, a knowing grin on your face as you watched his reaction. “You should rest since your wound hurts ‘really bad’.”
Noticing his mistake, Xavier put on an innocent face, his lower lip jutting out in a disarmingly cute pout. “I’m feeling much better already. Probably because you took so good care of me,” he murmured and leaned down again, but your hand on his chest kept him from coming closer, a gentle barrier that held him at arms length.
“Nice try,” you chuckled. Tonight, you wouldn’t fall into one of his traps, no matter how alluring and irresistible they might be. Both of your agencies were hot on your heels. You must act before they find you.
“We should make a plan.”
-
Xavier had parked the car near the venue. The moon was out, providing you a little light through the windshield as you sat in darkness. You stayed seated, double-checking if each of your weapons was loaded and secured in your holsters.
“Sooo, how many?” you asked conversationally. Xavier briefly glanced at you while he attached the silencer to his handgun. The suit he was wearing created sharp angles which accentuated his lean, muscular form. “Alright, I’ll start. Somewhere around 80, maybe 90 if you count non-targets.”
You didn’t miss the small smile that tugged at a corner of his mouth. Alright, so he had more kills under his belt. He probably had been working longer than you in this type of job. It was natural that he would—
“214,” he answered without looking up. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Eyes wide, you almost dropped the throwing knife you were about to attach to your thigh beneath your dress. “237 if you count non-targets.”
You blinked, then cleared your throat. “Oh.”
“Are you impressed or concerned?” Xavier asked after noticing your astonishment.
I think I’m aroused. “Just surprised.”
At last, you slipped on the masks you had bought for the event, matching your black formal attire. Then, Xavier drove up to the gate and showed the guard your invitation. When the gate was opened, you followed the winding driveway, and parked besides an alignment of similar sports cars.
As Xavier offered you his arm with a smile and guided you to the entrance, your eyes scanned the other guests, and located the patrolling guards and the security cameras along the perimeter.
According to Jeremiah, the target was being held hostage on the highest floor of the villa, an area off-limits to the public. Security was tight. However, the masquerade ball provided the perfect cover, allowing you to blend in with the crowd as you made your way through the halls. Disguised as a charity event, it was intended to be the best location for striking nefarious business deals and networking with your fellow local gang leaders.
When you entered the main ballroom, you were greeted by classical music played by a live band in one corner, accompanied by dancing and chatting guests adorned with an assortment of different kinds of masks. As your gaze swept across the crowd, a flash of white caught your attention.
Was that…your neighbour? His unmistakable white hair and crimson eyes would have been enough to recognise him, but he didn’t bother with a mask, clearly unconcerned over his own safety.
You tapped Xavier’s arm, but his eyes were fixed elsewhere. The host had entered the room and on his person he had the key to the upper floors. It was time for phase one of your plan.
After reaching for a glass of champagne from the tray carried by a waiter passing by, you freed your arm from under Xavier’s, and with slow, confident steps, moved towards the host, the sound of your heels echoing languidly over the wooden flooring.
Even as other guests as well as guards encircled him, you had no problem joining the group and sliding into their conversation with ease.
As you spoke, deliberately sending glances through your eyelashes, and exchanged one or two carefully chosen flirtatious words, you felt the heat of Xavier’s burning stare at the back of your head. You knew he disapproved of this part of the plan, yet you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy his jealousy a little bit. For two years, you’d believed him to have mentally moved on from you, convinced he no longer found you attractive. It was satisfying to watch him so clearly affected by another man’s proximity to you.
During your chat, you stopped mid-sentence, pretending to catch your mask. “Oh, I’m afraid my mask is slipping,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. “Could you hold my glass for a moment, please?”
“Of course.” The host politely accepted your glass, his eyes travelling down your form in open interest. It made you slightly uncomfortable, but as long as he was distracted, it didn’t matter.
You fiddled with the strings of your mask before you took it back, mindful of touching only the slender stem, and flashed him a grateful smile.
“May I have this dance?” The sudden, familiar soft-spoken voice beside you startled you. Xavier wasn’t supposed to approach. He had positioned himself between you and the host, his eyes fixed firmly on you, as if the other man didn’t exist.
“What are you doing?” you whispered once you were out of earshot. Xavier discreetly scanned the fingerprint on the glass with his watch and then placed it on one of the sidetables. He guided you to the dance floor before settling into a gentle sway to the music.
“Am I not allowed to dance with my wife?” There was an intensity behind his words, his grip on your waist and hand tight, betraying his feigned nonchalance.
Shaking your head, you couldn’t suppress your smile. Yes, you enjoyed his jealousy immensely. “You’re ridiculous.”
As you two danced, you couldn’t help but stare into his blue, twinkling eyes framed by his winged mask. They regarded you with matching longing and an unspoken need that had your heartbeat pick up its pace.
“You’re mine,” Xavier breathed, holding up his hand with the wedding ring. “Not just tonight, but every single day you belong to me.” His face was close enough that his warm breath fanned across your already heated cheeks. “And I want everyone here to know that.”
His hand reached up to spin you in an elegant twist before pressing you flush against him. Trying to keep a clear head, you focused back on your plan. “We have the biometric key. It’s time we go up.”
“All in due time.” One corner of his mouth lifted and as if on cue, the music switched its rhythm. Xavier glanced at the band, then to you. Without saying a word, he changed your stance to fit the new dance. A tango.
Despite him enjoying showing off with you and your obvious close relationship as he let his lips brush against your neck or his hand glide down lower than appropriate, he guided you closer to the other end of the ballroom, near the hallway leading to the stairwell.
“There’s a guard,” he informed you, dipping you low with one of his hands securely on your back while the other held up your leg. Looking backwards, you spotted one armed man in front of the stairs. With an abrupt movement, he lifted you back up, foreheads touching, and your leg suspended as his hand was still on your thigh.
“I have a knife,” you told him, and observed how his smirk grew wider. Without breaking eye contact, his hand trailed higher and beneath the slit of your dress. Your breath hitched as his touch ignited a sudden desire and caused your thoughts to drift to the other night. He removed the knife from its sheath, then, in one fluid movement, twirled you while using the momentum to flick his wrist and send the blade toward the guard. It found its mark in his throat, his gurgle drowned out by the music and loud chatter of the crowd.
“Nice throw,” you praised, and he flashed you a smile in response. After quickly hiding the guard beneath the staircase, you made your way to the upper floor. Avoiding the patrolling guards, you reached the top of the stairs without being detected.
“The room he’s in is the last one down the third hallway to the right.” Jeremiah’s voice crackled through the comms channel.
“I’m still convinced you should just shoot her and get it over with,” Isaiah chimed in. “That would save us a great deal of trouble.”
You chuckled, unfazed by Isaiah’s obvious dislike towards you. “Do you value his opinion?” you asked Xavier amused, already knowing the answer.
“No,” Xavier shrugged, poking his head around the corner and keeping an eye out for security.
“I heard that!”
“Good.”
Two guards suddenly appeared up ahead and, before you knew what happened, Xavier had pulled you into what appeared to be a guest bedroom and hid both of you inside a closet. Their footsteps outside stopped for a moment and then retreated. You let out a relieved breath.
“We should wait here until the guards change shifts,” Xavier said and checked his watch. Jeremiah had managed to discover the layout of the villa’s security precautions, including blind spots of their security cameras and when the guard’s shift changes took place.
The two of you were pressed against each other due to the cramped space inside the closet. You enjoyed being this close to him, especially after your rather charged dance mere moments ago. But what you liked even more was feeling just how much he seemed to like it.
You shot him a teasing look, watching how his expression changed as one of your hands lazily trailed up his thigh. Xavier’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gazed into your eyes with a sharp focus.
He checked his watch again. “We have ten minutes.”
“I know you’re fast, but I doubt you’re that fast,” you chuckled and immediately regretted saying that.
His eyes flashed with something dangerous as he cocked his head. You shouldn’t have doubted him. Xavier would always accept a challenge.
His nose trailed up your neck to the shell of your ear, the slight touch already making you shiver in anticipation. As one hand steadied you on your hip, the other parted the fabric of your dress. Once you felt his calloused fingers on the bare skin of your thigh, you drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut.
“Eight minutes,” you murmured, not able to hide the grin.
Xavier huffed, leaning back to sternly look down at you with half-lidded eyes. “Where’s that attitude coming from?”
Your hips involuntarily chased his hand as you desperately needed him to touch you, but he held you in place.
“I see.” A smug expression came onto his face, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. “Don’t worry, my star. I’ll take good care of you.”
Then, with a fluid motion, he slid his hands between your legs and pushed your underwear to the side. When he began to circle your clit with just the right amount of pressure and pace he knew made you weak, a moan got stuck in your throat.
“And I’ll fix your attitude while I’m at it,” he rasped and one finger pushed inside your heat, followed by a groan when he felt how wet you already were. He added the second finger right away and set a slow, agonising rhythm while his thumb kept circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You clawed at his shoulders, trying to hold yourself up as your legs trembled. You wanted more, your hips meeting his fingers, searching for a faster rhythm.
“Xavie,” you mewled, but he only chuckled.
“I haven’t heard you beg for it yet.”
You thought you would struggle with submitting yourself to him after such a long intimate pause between you, but the pleas came naturally over your lips. “Please, please, please, Xavie, do it harder.”
Satisfied with your request, he pumped his fingers in and out of you faster and harder, his other arm supporting your weight as you buried your face into his neck, biting down to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure.
Your orgasm was embarrassingly fast approaching. For a moment, your mind cleared enough to consider trying to delay your release in order to make him lose your little challenge. However, you wanted to come so badly that you immediately dismissed the thought.
When he reached that sensitive spot inside repeatedly, it finally snapped. Your body surged forward from the force of your orgasm as you gripped Xavier’s suit jacket tightly and bit the soft skin of his neck even harder, silencing your gasp as best as you could.
While you came down from your high, catching your breath and trembling from the aftershocks, he locked eyes with you and licked his fingers clean in an unhurried manner, making you clench around nothing at the sight.
“Thirty seconds,” Jeremiah’s voice brought you both back to reality.
You rolled your eyes at Xavier’s obvious self-satisfied smirk and straightened your clothes. He had a bite mark on his neck from your attempts to stay quiet, and you were a little proud that you managed to leave a mark on him this time too.
Outside in the hallway, Xavier entered the host’s biometric key into the control panel using his watch, allowing you access to the restricted part of the villa. Another corridor opened before you.
Two guards emerged from the corner and once they spotted you, raised their weapons. Instead of slowing down, you rushed forward, kicked the weapon from the left guard’s hand and delivered two precise punches to his jaw. Grabbing his head, you smashed it against the wall. He collapsed to the ground next to his colleague, who was already unconscious after Xavier had knocked him out.
After you took care of the third pair of patrolling guards, you followed Jeremiah’s instructions from earlier and found the room where the target was being held. From inside, you heard voices as you pressed your ears against the wood.
“Do you mind switching the channel? If I have to watch the same cartoon one more time, I hurl myself out the window,” a voice complained. No one answered him, so it was hard to say how many people were inside.
A quick nod passed between you and Xavier before you pushed open the door and charged into the room, guns drawn. At the far end, a man with purple hair was bound to a chair, limbs leisurely sprawled out. Completely unfazed by your arrival, two men wearing identical masks sat seemingly bored in front of the TV, watching cartoons. They didn’t even stand up.
“Take him,” one of them said and motioned with his head behind him. Confused, you blinked a couple of times. Then you spotted them, the actual guards, tied up and gagged in a corner.
“Yes, please do. He’s been complaining about everything for the past hour,” the other one added, their gazes trained on the TV.
Seeing that Xavier shared your irritation, you both raised an eyebrow. With a mutual shrug, you approached the target, whose face lit up with eagerness at the prospect of being rescued. “Fiiinally, you know how long I’ve been waiting for someone to show up? Jelly fishes are walking naked, sea turtles climb trees, sharks are eating grass for free and—hmmpf!”
Xavier had put his hand over his mouth to shut him up and looked at you questioningly. “That was easier than expected.”
“What now?”
Your gazes switched to the purpled-haired man who was struggling against Xavier’s unyielding grip. The moment Xavier withdrew his hand, he was talking again, but you quickly interrupted him. “Why are our agencies after you?”
“Long story, I suggest you wait for the movie,” he quipped. The slap came out of nowhere, not just for him but for Xavier too. Surprised, both blinked at you.
You shrugged. “We don’t have all day.”
“I admire your initiative,” Xavier smiled.
You giggled and the man in front of you rolled his eyes. With cheeks heating up, you cleared your throat. “Where were we?”
“The part where you let me go.” His eyes suddenly widened at the blade in Xavier’s hands. “Woah! Alright! Wait, I’ll tell you everything!”
Now, it was your turn to look startled. You didn’t expect Xavier to torture someone. But then he did kill over 230 people…
“My name’s Rafayel. I actually work for the Philo Agency. They found out you guys were married, and since they didn’t particularly like two assassins from different agencies possibly sharing confidential intel, they planned to get rid of you. You were supposed to kill each other during your mission. I was just bait.”
Xavier looked down at his knife, then back at Rafayel. “I actually just wanted to untie you.”
Rafayel looked like he was close to complaining some more, so you grabbed Xavier’s arm and stepped a few meters away. “What now? When they planned to get rid of us right from the start, there’s nothing we can do.”
“We’ll figure it out once we get out of here.” Xavier took your hand in his, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand in a calming gesture that eased your nerves.
“Jeremiah might be right.” Your voice was laced with sadness. “We should part ways, so we have a higher chance at survival.” You didn’t want to leave him, but if that was the only way he could escape and find safety, then you would.
“Once we run, we’ll run for the rest of our lives. Besides,” Xavier responded and held up your joint hands with the wedding rings. “I made a vow. I’m not going back on my word.”
“But—”
“Right now I have you,” he cut you off, squeezing your hand for emphasis. The intensity in his eyes made your heart swell. “And I’ll never let go.”
You swallowed the emotions bubbling up, and nodded.
“If he’s really just bait, then agents from both our agencies will be here soon,” Xavier continued, and as if on cue, several heavy footsteps came rushing closer.
Glancing at the hallway, you exhaled. “You really had to jinx it…”
As you readied your guns and sought cover, you noticed the identically masked guys switching off the TV and rising from the sofa. They had shown no interest in involving themselves in your business the entire time you had questioned Rafayel, but now, with armed agents storming the room, they joined the fray. At that point, you didn’t question it and accepted their assistance in eliminating the waves of attackers.
With a quick roll behind the purple-haired man’s chair, you swiftly reloaded as bullets flew past and, while using his body for cover, shot at the chest of someone attempting to sneak up on Xavier.
Rafayel snorted indignantly. “I’m not a meat shield!”
Ignoring him, you moved on to the next one. You underestimate the speed of your opponent and when your gun was knocked out of your hand, you reached for the man’s arm and flung him over your shoulder onto the floor. A fist connected with your face as another agent materialised beside you. Your lip split open, a thin stream of blood trickling down to your chin.
Just as you prepared to strike back, a dagger pierced the agent’s throat. He collapsed and revealed one of the masked men lurking behind him. He offered a playful salute, which you answered with a grin.
Your unknown accomplices turned out to be great at close combat. With their help, you were able to quickly take care of the incoming agents. After the last wave was reduced to a pile of limbs on the ground, you caught your breath. Xavier was by your side in an instant, cradling your cheek and checking your injuries.
One of the masked men waved you over to him and pointed to a hidden door at the back of the room. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Xavier’s hand reassuringly laid on your lower back, and together you followed the two out of the building.
“Heeey! Are you just gonna leave me here?!” Rafayel shouted after you, but no one from your group heeded him any mind and ignored his incessant shoutings until his voice was nothing but a faint echo in the background.
As you navigated the labyrinth of hallways, you quickly reached the backdoor. Outside, the chilly nightly breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress, but since you were still running hot from the fight, the heat fuelled by adrenalin pumping through your veins, you welcomed the cooling air.
Surprised to find yourself facing none other than your neighbour, you came to a stop. “Mr. Li,” you blurted out.
“Mr. and Mrs. Shen, good to see you in good health and with all your limbs still attached,” Mr. Li greeted, a casual smirk on his lips. He leaned against the railing of the terrace, clearly waiting for your arrival. His white hair was slightly tousled by the wind, but other than that, he looked like he fit right into this place with his tailored suit and dangerous ruby eyes.
“Here.” With one hand, Xavier caught whatever he tossed into the air with ease. Opening his palm, you were presented with a key. “There’s a car at the other end of the property. It’s fuelled and should be enough to get you out of town.”
When the masked men positioned themselves next to Mr. Li, everything clicked into place. “Why are you helping us?” you asked. Your neighbourly relationship never went beyond polite greetings and the occasional package exchange when one of you had accepted one on behalf of the other.
“Take it as a thank you for keeping my…occupation a secret.” A sly smile curved his lips as he looked each of you in the eyes. “And as an apology for my son’s behaviour,” he added, his smile fading. Ah, so he must have found Caleb’s secret stash of your underwear. Xavier threw you a questioning look, but you waved him off.
“However, I still expect a check for my stolen car.” With that, Mr. Li turned on his heel, waved goodbye, and returned to the party as if nothing had happened. His two henchmen snickered and vanished into the darkness of the surrounding garden.
Processing what just happened, you stared at the spot your neighbour had been standing a moment ago. Huh, what a night.
“Do you want to go get hot pot?” Xavier’s blue eyes twinkled brightly, mirroring the stars above as he gazed down at you and intertwined your fingers together.
You chuckled, wiping the blood off your lip with the back of your other hand. “Sure.”
Glancing at your joint palms, a warm feeling spread through you. From now on, whenever you extended a hand, your distant star would always be within reach.
✧ A/N: I wanted to write something for my favourite genre of Xavier. A little fun fact: My first fanfics that I ever posted online were back in 2013, and one of them was a crossover between the movie Salt and a YouTuber I was watching at the time. So you could consider this one shot, a crossover with yet another Angelina Jolie action movie, as going back to my roots.
Thank you so much for reading! And thanks to my beta readers EuphoriaIsArt and @lynny-moony ✨
Ooooh if your slots aren’t all taken, hear me out: rival!roommate!Rafayel x reader, topped with mutual masturbation.
rival! roommate! rafayel x reader with mutual masturbation
a/n. a bit over 1k cause i was talking a lot of shit to set the scene! this is written for an athletic rivalry. thank you for requesting this! hope you enjoy ❤️
event page | event masterlist
you heard the bathroom door slam open before you could even process the footsteps approaching.
“really? in the bathroom? you couldn’t be more obvious about it?” rafayel’s voice dripped with disdain, coming in sharp and cold through the air.
“doping before a competition? that’s your strategy?”
your heart was slamming against your ribs– shit, shit, shit.
your legs were spread wide atop the toilet seat, your pink dildo buried halfway inside your slick cunt, the wet sounds of your own arousal still echoing off the tiles. you scrambled to cover yourself, yanking at the bathrobe hanging on the hook.
but your fingers fumbled, clumsy with panic.
“i’m not– rafayel, get out!” your voice came out breathy, cracked at the edges, affected by the toy inside you.
he didn’t move. of course he didn’t.
your rival, your insufferable roommate, the man who made it his personal mission to beat you at every single track event… he just stood there before you, arms crossed, eyes boring into you with fury.
“show me.” his jaw tightened, anger visible in his tone. “show me what you’re hiding, or i’m reporting you. you think i didn’t notice your times improving? you think i’m stupid?”
“i said get out!”
“show me.” he took a step forwards, then another, until he towered over where you sat. “you don’t get to cheat. not with me here.”
your face burned, arousal and anger convoluting inside you. your thighs pressed together instinctively, pushing the toy deeper, and the movement sent a jolt of pleasure straight up your spine.
you bit your lip to stifle the moan.
“last chance.” his voice lowered. “show me the syringe. or the pills. whatever you’re using.”
“rafayel, please–”
he grabbed your wrist, the one clutching the robe, and yanked it away from your body.
“ah–”
for one second, he just stared.
you watched it happen in real time — the shift from accusation to confusion to raw acknowledgement. his gaze traveled down your exposed torso, past your heaving chest, to where your other hand still gripped the base of that obscene pink dildo, glossy with your juices, swallowed by your cunt.
“you’re...” he blinked, almost inexpressive. “not doping.”
“no, you asshole.” you hissed, palms spreading over your intimate parts. “i was trying to get off. in private. alone.”
“you left the door unlocked.” he said finally, as if explaining himself.
“that’s not an invitation.”
“i had to make sure everything is in order.”
“and it is, so just–”
“no.”
•••
“you’re dripping down the toilet seat.”
“s–shut up–”
“you started this.”
he reminded you as he wrapped his hand around his dick tighter, his fingers not quite closing all the way around. his raspy voice, so accusatory and taunting, as well as the sight of his hard cock, made something throb deep in your belly.
“’did not.”
his tip, flushed dark and glistening, peeked every now and then as it passed through his fist, catching your hungry eyes and acting as incentive for your own pleasure.
“liar.”
you couldn’t continue the banter, not with the way your hand was pushing the toy against your pulsing walls so deliciously. the dildo was swallowed deeper, letting the silicone balls behind, only to be pulled almost all the way out.
just to repeat the motion and feel the stretch again.
“that’s it.” his voice had gone rough, raw, and you weren’t sure if he was encouraging you or himself. “that’s fucking it.”
he started stroking his cock more attentively, matching the pace you set: slow at first, then faster, mirroring the way your hips began to rock against the dildo. his eyes never left you, watching every inch of that pink toy disappear inside you, watching your face twist with pleasure, watching your thighs quiver from pleasure.
fuck, he could do so much better than that fake dick.
“you look so pathetic.” he breathed out, and the insult landed straight onto your sensitive flesh. “legs spread open. toy stuffed in your cunt. and you can’t even finish yourself off, can you? needed an audience.”
“’don’t need any– ugh– thing from you.”
“no?” he sped up his hand, and you watched his cock disappear into his fist faster, heard the wet sounds fill the room alongside your own. “then why are you still fucking yourself? why haven’t you told me to leave?”
because you didn’t want him to.
because something about his scrutinizing eyes on you, about his voice degrading you, his hand pumping his cock in time with your thrusts — something about all of it really did it for you.
“you like this.” he said it like a revelation, like it wasn’t obvious from the start both of you enjoyed it. “you like me watching. you like me calling you out. you dirty fucking cheater.”
“i’m not ah– cheater.” you fight between whines, rotating the toy inside you, now making the base hit your swollen clit with every thrust.
“no.” he choked out, thumb joining his ministration to press down on the leaking tip. “you’re worse. you’re a desperate little slut who got caught masturbating by her asshole rival.”
the tip of the dildo hit something softer exactly as he voice out the truth, and a loud moan tore out of your throat before you could stop it. as if agreeing with rafayel.
“ngh– yeah.” his voice was dripping with smugness. “there’s the sound i love to hear. you being a slutty loser, losing to pleasure.”
“ah, ah, ah…”
“pleasure inflicted by me.”
by the way his rhythm stuttered, by the way his abs clenched with every stroke, veins popping more and more… he was close to release.
“look at me, look at me when you cum.”
“f–fuck off, i’m not–”
“yes, you are. your fucking thighs are shaking.”
he was right — you were close. your wrist ached from the angle, but you couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, you needed–
“cum, slut. come on, let me see you fall apart.”
as if on cue, your back arched off the toilet seat, and the orgasm crashed through you harsh. through your hazy state, you heard rafayel groan, heard the wet slap of his hand speeding up, heard his loud panting turn into something low.
“fucking hell.”
stripes of creamy cum painted his knuckles and dripped onto his pulled-down sweatpants; and you got to watch every second of it through half-lidded eyes. you observed his jaw go slack, observed the tension drain from his shoulders as he emptied himself in his own hand.
the bathroom fell silent, only echoing your breathing.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @gardenialily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @remnantsofgildedcages, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @remnantsofgildedcages, @maplewood-valley, @massivebanananut, @livanavier. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
a/n: hihi!! as decided by my poll here is the Xavier comfort I promised #democracy, this started as a very self indulgent thought bc I had a horrible month last month but we are #up now !!! okay enough yap I hope u all enjoy and I hope this comforts at least one of u and makes u feel better <33 any thoughts and comments are v appreciated :3
warnings/tags: xavier x reader, lots of fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of spiraling and general sadness, not eating/taking care of self, xavier being a good bf, kind of early relationship, I think that's everything !
wc: 2.0k
masterlist
It was one of those months. The ones where your late night thoughts slowly get too comfortable in the daylight, pestering you while the sun shines on your skin, even when you’re trying to ignore them as you talk to a coworker. The kind of month where you tell yourself ‘I just have to get through this week’ every single week. The kind of month that tears you down until you feel like there’s no end in sight.
Xavier had noticed the bags under your eyes, he noticed how forced your smile was when talking to the others in the office. Most of all he noticed the way you barely spoke to him, where usual rambles and rabbit holes would be, he was met with short sentences, tight smiles and early goodbyes.
He didn’t push, he never did. He waited patiently, gave you gentle reminders of him always being available when it came to you. He listened as you gently rejected his third attempt at getting you out of your apartment to go somewhere that wasn't work.
“I have some vegetables that are about to go bad, maybe next time?” you smiled at him gently, it didn't reach your eyes. Xavier felt his heart tug, giving you a small smile and nodding as the elevator doors opened to your floor.
“You know where I'll be if you change your mind,” he replies quickly, you give him another tired smile before exiting the elevator. Xavier lets out a sigh as the doors close behind you, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back against the cool metal until the small ‘ding’ pulls him out of his mind.
The second your apartment door closes behind you there's tears welling in your eyes, a deep emptiness that seems to only grow the harder you try to ignore it. You ignore the hot tears that make their way down your cheeks, tuning out the pathetic hiccups that leave your lips as you take your shoes off with shaky hands and place your keys on the countertop.
Through blurry eyes you make it to your kitchen, taking a sip of water and before walking past your empty fridge and straight to your bedroom. You barely have it in you to peel your uniform off you, and if it weren’t for the grime on it you wouldn’t have bothered.
You pick out the first shirt you find, pulling it over your head and immediately curling under your covers, broken sobs leaving your body as your arms curl around yourself tighter.
I just have to get through this week
For a second your mind blanks, when will it ever end?
Your thoughts make you feel worse, eyes screwing shut tighter than before as you whimper. You let yourself spiral, mind running rampant, you don’t have it in you to try and calm yourself down.
Xavier notices the slight puffiness of your eyes the next day at work, he notices the prominent dark circles under them when you turn to face him. You give him a small smile, no glimmer in your eyes whatsoever. It makes him worry.
“Hey starboy,” you mumble softly, you sounded exhausted.
“Hi starlight,” he replies, stepping closer to you, enough for you to tear your gaze from your computer screen. “Are you feeling alright?” Xavier almost regrets his words when he sees your bottom lip tremble for a second, watching as you suck in a shaky breath before giving him a curt nod.
“Just tired,” you reply, trying to reassure your lover before you turn your attention back to the screen.
Xavier hums and lingers for a second before he finally turns to leave your desk, b-lining to find Tara in the break room.
“Tara, have you spoken to Y/N lately?” she jumps at his words, quickly turning around and almost spilling her coffee in the process.
“Xavier! You scared me! You really shouldn’t sneak up on people making hot coffee,” she laughs nervously, “I talked to her the other day, she seemed upset but didn’t want to talk about it.” Tara looks down at the liquid in her cup, “I didn’t push, I figured she wants to be left alone, y’know since she’s independent and all that,” she shrugs her shoulders.
“Has she mentioned anything else to you?” Xavier asks, head cocked slightly to the side.
Tara shakes her head, “nothing, I’ve been messaging her to join me on errands or lunch and stuff and she doesn’t even reply,” she sighs, “I even tried baiting her into joining me grocery shopping so she can get something in her fridge but she just flat out silenced my notifications.”
Xavier furrows his brows at her words, you had an empty fridge? The cogs in Xavier’s head slowly click into place, excusing himself and thanking Tara for her help before he heads to the store.
You follow your same routine, barely closing your door before the hollow feeling in your chest consumes you. Hot tears in your eyes as you take your shoes off, sitting on your couch with your head in your hands as you cry. You’re not sure how much more you can take.
I wanna go home, the thought flickers in your mind, making another sob leave your lips as you wipe your tears. The footsteps of your upstairs neighbor make you go quiet.
Home.
Your shaky fingers find Xavier’s contact in no time, quickly dialing it and pressing your phone up to your ear, sniffling.
Xavier answers before the first ring could finish, basket in hand and closing the front door of his apartment. “Hi starlight,” he says softly, locking the door and walking down the hallway. He hears your sniffling before he hears your voice, he wills himself to take the elevator instead of teleporting to your living room.
“Can you- Do you think you can come over?” your voice breaks on the last word, and Xavier is grateful there’s no one else on the elevator to see the lights flicker as soon as he steps into it.
“I’ll be there in a second, my star,” his gentle words make you want to cry harder.
You let yourself sob as the call ends, curling in on yourself and letting your thoughts run wild. You couldn’t even deal with this yourself, how embarrassing. Your chest aches, the pit in your stomach growing as the knot in your throat shows no signs of leaving you soon.
There’s three gentle knocks on your door before it’s unlocked, followed by your favorite sound in the world, “starlight? I’m coming in okay?” The door opens slowly, Xavier immediately sees you curled on the couch, face buried in a pillow as your body shakes. He feels his stomach churn at the sight.
He’s at your side in a second, placing the basket by his feet and wrapping his arms around you. The comfort makes you cry even harder, twisting your body to bury your face in his chest, gripping the fabric of his black hoodie like it was your lifeline.
Xavier holds your tightly, rubbing your back and gently comforting you, soft, ‘I know, I’m right here’s and ‘let it out, I’m sorry’s make your chest grow tighter. Xavier always smelt like clean laundry and warm musk, you feel your heart get a little lighter the longer you’re in his arms.
“Deep breaths, I’m right here,” he whispers, never rushing you, never asking what happened. Slowly, your tears stop flowing, your sobs are reduced to scattered sniffles, but your grip never loosens. Your eyes open slowly, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed when you see the giant wet patch on your boyfriend's hoodie.
Xavier’s eyes never leave you, watching as you slowly pull away from him, finally looking at him for the first time since he’d arrived. He offers a small smile, “better?”
You nod in response. Your breath hitches slightly when his thumb wipes away your stray tears, sapphire eyes still staring at you like the most beautiful thing in the universe.
“‘m sorry,” you mutter out, still sniffling as you rub your eyes to get any last stray tears. Xavier frowns, brows downturned as his eyes somehow soften even more, one finger under your chin and he gently lifts your face.
“Why are you apologizing?”
You shrug your shoulders, “getting like this, crying and getting boogers on your hoodie,” you let a small sigh, “I know I should be able to deal with this on my own, and I really tried to but- I don’t know, I’m sorry,” your bottom lip trembles again. Xavier’s frown only deepens at your words, watching as you avert your gaze from his own.
He opts to move his hand from your chin to your cheek, brushing the hot skin with his thumb, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“You never have to deal with anything on your own.” His words make your heart stutter, eyes welling with tears for a completely different reason this time. You let yourself rest your face in the crook of his neck, melting into him as he wraps his arms around you, one hand covering the back of your head. “No matter what it is, however big or small I will always be there to help you in any way that I can.”
“What if you can’t help me?” Your words are muffled against his skin.
“Then I’ll do everything in my power to find someone who can. I’ll stand by your side no matter what, you can use me as a punching bag or a shoulder to cry on or anything you might need. Whatever you want me to be, whatever you need me to be, I’ll be that.”
Another sob escapes your lips, grip tightening on your boyfriend. “Did I say something wrong?” concern laced in Xavier’s words as his brows furrow slightly, eyes wide. His body is tense, only relaxing when he feels you shake your head ‘no’ against him.
“How do you always know what to say?” you ask, moving your head from his neck and staring at him through your tears. “You’re too good for me,” the pout on your lips makes you look even more adorable, it makes Xavier want to kiss you silly.
He smiles at you, eyes crinkling slightly before reaching down and picking up the wicker basket he’d left at his feet. “For you, my star.”
A bouquet of your favorite flowers, snacks, a coloring book, a puzzle, and an envelope. Your mouth falls open slightly as you gasp, eyes watering again.
“Xav,” you whisper, looking at the silver haired man beside you. He only giggles, motioning for you to open the envelope.
It’s a card with a corny joke and a silly cat drawing on it, inside is his beautiful handwriting. Your heart pounds as you read his words, warmth filling the emptiness you’d felt previously. And then at the bottom of the letter:
Remember this is temporary, and when you feel like it’s not, I’ll remind you of the good, I’ll make you a sun to find the light
With all the love in the cosmos, your xavier
You smile at the words, finally looking up again and finding golden specs of light floating around the two of you. They light up your once dim apartment, converging slowly to make one large orb, flickering slightly and taking on an all too familiar shape.
“Any time you call for me, I’ll always run to you, my star,” Xavier whispers, his eyes haven’t left you for a second, taking in the way you seem to slowly get back your spark he loves so much.
You don't realize you're smiling as you stare at the makeshift sun in your living room. Even after isolating yourself, after trying to do it alone, after pushing him away for a month you'll never get back, Xavier is there. He will always be there, no matter how long he has to wait, no matter what he has to do, he always finds his way to your side.
You always find your way to him, you always let him in. Because maybe you can't get through this week, maybe tomorrow will be worse. But you rest assured, knowing there will always be a light waiting for you, knowing the sun will find you on the darkest days.
Xavier makes sure of it.
taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @luvyizhou send an ask to be added :3!
⁀➴☕︎ | one night stand with Rafayel who can't take a hint
Somewhere between too many sangrias, a lot of dirty dancing and groping, you'd ended up in the back of a cab with Rafayel, eating each other's faces off and barely toeing the line between propriety and public indecency.
Rafayel is so lost in the softness of your lips, the heavenly moans that escape you and only beckon him closer that he doesn't even realize he's handed the driver a hundred instead of a twenty, asking him to keep the change as he carries you into your building.
"What's your name?" You manage between kisses as the railing of the staircase digs into your back while he bends you over it, teething at your throat while his thigh rubs between your legs.
You can feel his smile against your skin as he hikes you up higher on his thigh, licking the skin he'd just broken in "Didn't your parents warn you about strangers?"
"Didn't your parents warn you about serial killers?" You shoot back and it's gratifying to make a man as beautiful as he was to laugh as pretty as he did.
"Let's just say-" He's whispering right above your lips as his luminescent eyes search yours "I have no self preservation. Especially not against a woman as beautiful as you"
You both stumble through the door, hands tearing at his jacket and your coat as he drives you up the wood, holding your weight against the surface as his tongue plunges into your mouth again.
The bedroom is preferable but the couch is closer and you both try to make a fair attempt to reach it except Rafayel's already got two fingers breaching the waistband of your panties, teasing your soaking folds as you pant into his mouth "Right there?"
You nod, a whimper lodged in the back of your throat as he plunges the fingers into your waiting warmth, groaning when he feels just how wet you are for him. Curving his fingers, he's pumping them against that sweet spot that makes you moan, your head banging into the door behind you.
When he's made you cum so hard that you're still recovering from the aftermath, he's leaving kisses against your skin, rubbing his thigh between your legs again, breaking a whine out of you from how sensitive you were "Uh oh" He whispers, pulling your dress low enough to free your breasts, covering one with his mouth "Stranger danger"
Despite yourself, you laugh but it dies a short death when he pulls at your nipple making you moan, wrapping your legs tighter around his trim waist and lining yourself directly with his very prominent erection. He groans, biting down on your areola making you squeal as he pulls you away from the door and carries you to the couch.
For a man who looked so pretty and delicate, he was surprisingly strong and freakishly well-endowed if what you felt between your legs as you grind against him was any indication. And when Rafayel pushes your skirt up, lining himself behind you, you're suddenly apprehensive about how he'll make it fit.
"You're here to kill me after all" He groans as your walls flutter around his length to accommodate his size, screaming into the pillow as you arch your back to take him even better.
One moment you remember him thrusting into you so hard the couch is moving and screeching against the wood, the next you're in your bed with your knees folded till your chest as he moves above you, cooing at you as tears escape your eyes at the overstimulation. He's licking the tearstreaks, grunting right next to your ear as your walls squeeze and tighten around him with every drawn out thrust.
"I've got you" He's nodding, forehead pressed to yours as your mouth hangs agape while you chase that peak, tears free flowing while he brushes against that spongey spot with every thrust, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way "I've got you, pretty. Why don't you let go for me, hm?"
You're nodding too, broken whimpers escaping as your legs quake uncontrollably before you're gushing around him. Rafayel's right behind you, growling into your skin as his thrusts grow more desperate, fucking relentlessly into your swollen pussy and pumping you full of his cum.
Last thing you remember is kissing this gorgeous stranger who had eyes that sparkled so beautiful in the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"You're even more beautiful in daylight"
Nodding, you're picking up the clothes strewn on the floor, tossing the ones that belonged to him at his relaxed figure still lounging in your bed.
You'd woken up and made love to this man in bed before the sun had come up and then again in the shower just now but while you looked like anymore action would require you to get an IV drip, not only did this man have the stamina of a God, his skin glowed like it too? What the hell was his skincare routine?
"I'm Rafayel" He goes on and you shoot him a non-plussed look over your shoulder because of course a man who looked like that and fucked like he did couldn't be named something regular like Bob or Peter. Rafayel. He was such a Rafayel.
You know he's waiting for your name but you have no interest in giving it to him. Yesterday had been a celebration and while you were brazen enough to sleep with strangers and not truly commit, you weren't in the business of hoarding the strangers for long-term relationships.
Instead, you disappear into your closet to pick out your work clothes. You had to swing by the office before an important work lunch in the afternoon and if you successfully closed the deal, last night's celebration would not be in vain.
When you step out, Rafayel has thankfully taken the hint and gotten dressed too. He follows your cue and exits the bedroom behind you, still doing his best to get you to acknowledge his existence. Or help him be privy to yours.
Picking up his jacket that was still lying by the door, you hand it to him and open the door. Your declaration despite not using any words is crystal clear. Rafayel would love nothing more than take you out for breakfast, bring you home and do a full repeat of last night but you want to set clear boundaries of remaining strangers and he wants to respect that.
Or atleast try to.
He steps out but he's still in the doorway, preventing you from closing the door completely as he stares at you for a moment too long, gaze dropping to your lips before he's looking at you again "I don't even know your name"
"It's not worth remembering" You step back, hoping he will too but he's still got that kicked puppy look in his eyes that almost- almost melts your resolve.
"I'll remember it" He promises "Want to make you forget it next time we do this. Probably have you scream mine"
He's gonna wear you down at this rate and you know it. So you put that final nail in the coffin "Goodbye, Rafayel"
When you close the door behind you, you wonder if you should've at least told him you'd had a good time. Great time, even. Okay, you weren't kidding anyone. He'd shown you the most spectacular time and you'd wanted nothing more than to do it again too.
As you checked your day's to-do, you realized you didn't really have the time to.
Rafayel sent flowers to your apartment before you even left that morning. How he managed to do that in the span of the twenty minutes it had taken between you throwing him out and leaving for work, you didn't know. Still, he was an observant man too, if he had managed to deduce from the incense burning in your apartment that your favorite flowers were orchids.
As an art curator, you'd had your fair share of bizarre interactions. This definitely ranked in the top 3.
The flowers are still on your mind when you reach the restaurant where you're having your lunch meeting. Your friend's husband, Thomas, had wanted to introduce you to someone he'd described as simply phenomenal. For someone always looking for new talent, you'd easily agreed.
Your brows furrowed and lips lifted in a sardonic smile when you noticed the name on the card he'd given you. Rafayel. It was as if you simply couldn't escape that name today.
Or him, when the waitress showed you to the table where he was already seated next to Thomas, looking refined in his three piece suit and smiling at what you're sure he found to be a pleasant turn of events.
xavier didn’t like jerking off. it wasn’t that he hated it, he just never really saw the point when he had you. in elevators, parked cars, half asleep after long shifts—loving you had become second nature to him, desire a steady flame that never dimmed between the two of you.
distance, unfortunately, made everything harder. most assignments only kept one of you away from linkon for a few days at a time, but there was always the possibility of longer deployments. weeks apart led to missed calls and rushed conversations at ungodly hours of the night.
still, the two of you handled it better than most people would’ve. there was trust there—an understanding that work had to come first sometimes.
even so, the longer xavier went without seeing you, the worse his messages became.
a single complaint about your day would earn you a voice message so filthy it left you staring at the ceiling afterward, heat creeping up your neck as his sleepy voice promised exactly what he’d do to you once he got home.
the videos were somehow worse because xavier didn’t even have to try to ruin you. he’d send careless little clips filmed from dim hotel rooms, silver hair still damp from the shower, exhaustion softening his features while he spoke to you in that low, honey-smooth voice like you were sitting right in front of him.
sometimes he wasn’t even doing anything explicit, just looking into the camera was enough to make your stomach twist. it should’ve been illegal for someone to look that beautiful while asking if you missed him.
those thoughts circled your head tonight as you reread the messages he’d sent throughout the day.
7:03am
miss u starlight.
7:05am.
two blurry selfies, his face streaked with dust and exhaustion.
and finally, hours later:
couldn’t get u off my mind.
attached was a video, thumbnail of his abdomen catching your breath before you even pressed play.
the clip opened shakily, xavier fumbling with his phone before setting it down somewhere next to the bed. once satisfied, he leaned back into frame, pale skin glowing softly beneath the muted hotel lighting.
his cheeks were flushed faintly pink. “my star…” he sighed, voice rough with exhaustion. the sound alone sent heat rushing through you.
he dragged a hand slowly down his chest, head tipping back against the pillows as though even speaking took effort.
“can’t sleep properly without you here.”
his hand dipped lower, moving beneath the band of his pants to palm his growing bulge.
something about his confession felt more intimate than anything else he could’ve said. you watched with burning cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut, soft breaths filling the quiet room while he whispered your name under his breath like a prayer.
“so hard for you angel, miss that pretty mouth”. you lowered your own hand beneath your panties, fingers dipping into your wetness as you watched him stroke his cock.
your clit throbbed when he whined your name, the hand on his cock speeding up while the other one roamed his torso.
he pursed his lips in a failed attempt to calm his breathing, a moan spilling from his throat as spurts of cum shot from his cock. you continued to circle your sensitive nub, reaching your own climax as you watched his face contort with pleasure.
by the time the video ended, your heart was pounding hard enough to hurt.
your phone buzzed again with another message.
wish I was there to see Ur pretty face.
your cheeks burned instantly.
before you could even think of a response, three little dots appeared on the screen.
gonna fuck U so good when i’m back my star.
you stared at the message for several long seconds before burying your face into your pillow with a groan.
please heed all of the authors' content warnings & check out their other amazing works too! show them some love; be kind!
⋆˙⟡𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗/ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥ᯓ☆
11:53pm by @aethercoreheart
Asleep on My Shoulder Again by @aprilshowersbringmayflowerz
What your eyes say by @atzeroo
dad!Xavier puts on a light show for your daughter by @lunarify
xavier is the best boyfriend an asmr creator could have! by @luvinbloom
Meals & Mayhem by @rika-mmendmethings
Precious Lumiere. by @purpleconch
a light that never goes out by @starryeyed-knight (series ongoing)
man of indulgence. by @venusblooms
⋆˙⟡ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜ᯓ☆
xavier is a... dancing hot pot panda?! by @luvinbloom
random xavier headcanons by @xaviersbunny
⋆˙⟡𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥ᯓ☆
choose me by @shaiyasstuff
seasonal feathers by @shaiyasstuff (you prob will cry)
⋆˙⟡𝕄𝔻ℕ𝕀 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕥ᯓ☆
pornstar xavier by @applecaviar (mdni)
stuck bunnies by @glubglubgurgle (mdni)
moonbound by @lowkeylaufeysons (mdni)
sleepover by @lunarify (mdni; xavierxreaderxcaleb)
mean xavier by @medicli (mdni)
Bad Bunny by @miaisleepy (mdni)
jelly xavier by @mwphisto (mdni)
2111 - Xavier by @nottellingofname (mdni)
so sweet, knowing that you love me by @starryeyed-knight (mdni)
slutty xavi by @xaviever (mdni)
⋆˙⟡𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕔ᯓ☆
Scared of the dark? by @bbnosylus
Forged in Silence by @colonelkaboom (mdni; xavierxreaderxsylus; series ongoing)
Thrice Stricken by @lowkeylaufeysons (mdni)
wonderstruck and your silhouette by @starryeyed-knight
+1 Clause by @touchdowntides
In plain sight by @zaynessbeloved (series; mdni)
ginny's note: tried to give a good range of awesome fics i love and/or was recommended to include, but pls lemme know of any fics you think i should add!! this list is meant to grow hehe @rmstitanics for the moon divider!
Congrats on milestone Rei 🫶🫶🫶!!!! Can I requessssst [LI of YOUR choice] + secret relationship 🫶!
@lowkeylaufeysons
An open secret - Xavier X MC
Five times, you have barely managed to hide your relationship with Xavier from the people around you, and the one time it didn't matter anymore.
─ .✦ established relationship, secret relationship, making out, Fluff
─ .✦ word count: 3.6k
꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ For @lowkeylaufeysons - Thank you for the request vii!
One: Wrong size
The first time it happens, people barely bat an eye at you, nor him.
It's a comment spoken into the room so lightly and naturally, nobody but Tara turns to you, looking a bit amused but not alarmed about it the slightest. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself with your heart almost beating out of your chest, hoping that nobody will follow up on it or make a comment that will have you react to it.
You were in the middle of a work meeting, discussing plans for the upcoming undercover mission Xavier and you were supposed to be a part of when he had silently pointed at the screen and mumbled a small correction about the information written down for the clothes you were meant to wear.
Five simple words that fill the room and manage to echo in your head as your stomach flips upside down a million times, over and over again.
"That's not the right size"
It's almost childish, really; how these simple words manage to have you lose your cool when you were supposed to be sitting in on a serious meeting. Kind of silly if you think about it, but it's these little moments that make you realize that you are head over heels for this man sitting right across from you who looks completely unfazed by the words he had just muttered under his breath.
Except that nobody but you two know. Nobody knows that Xavier and you have been dating for almost three years now as it has slowly turned into an open secret you two have been keeping for no reason whatsoever. It wasn't meant to be a secret, after all. Well, at the beginning maybe, but only because things developed so fast between you two that you had gotten a tiny bit worried if things could turn sour before you know it.
But it didn't, and you doubt it will ever with how perfect it has been. Xavier is caring and kind; always puts you and your feelings first no matter what, and you two have basically moved in together already with how often you stay at his place that sleeping at your own apartment feels like a solo-sleepover at this point.
So why didn't you just let them know later when things were a little bit more 'stable'?
It's just that the conversation never came up, alright? And it would seem weird to tell them now given by how much time has passed already, especially because nobody ever really asked you about it. At this rate, you aren't even sure what kind of reaction you would get: dating the famous Xavier who seems to leave people with more questions than answers no matter where he goes.
Just like how some people sitting in on this meeting must be thinking 'how does Xavier know that the size was wrong?' but nobody actually asks that question out loud. Especially given how absolutely unbothered Xavier looked mere seconds after saying something like that; it's probably because you two have worked together for so long already. Or maybe he had picked it up in all of the years of knowing you.
As warmth makes it way up your neck, you can't help but let your eyes wander to the familiar person sitting across from you. There's a glimmer in Xavier's blue eyes as they meet yours; something in his gaze, that looks proud and happy and for a moment you are sure you can see the little ray of light as it engulfs him, before it vanishes into nothing.
And so the meeting goes on as if nothing happened.
When you two get home later, Xavier listens intently as you tell him about how you felt. Yet instead of learning his lesson, he looks more enamored than before.
Two: background picture
There is something that has always bothered Tara.
It's not that she is the prying or overly noisy type. Curious? on the occasion, yes — but say, who isn't? It's not like being a little bit curious has ever caused any harm, right? Right.
She has known you for as long as you two have been hunters; you two go out for lunch dates or dinner at least twice a week and spend time at each other's apartments every other weekend to catch up on life if you feel up for it.
There's nothing Tara would say she doesn't know about you. Or well, at least that's what she thought before realizing a.. slightly weird 'habit' of yours.
In all the time you two have been friends, she has never once seen your phone's background picture — let alone, hold your phone in her hands. It's not that she ever explicitly wanted to, but there have been countless occasions where she would ask you to look something up for her on her phone because her hands are full. Yet it never happened the other way around.
Actually, now that she thinks about it, Tara is pretty sure you sometimes even turn your phone away when noticing she could take a look; it never bothered her, but it's indeed a little bit strange.
That is, until one day, she accidentally manages to catch a glimpse of your phone when walking up to you; a passing peek over your shoulder because you happened to arrive early to your regular lunch spot and didn't hear her coming.
It's a blurry picture she can't quite recognize, but from the momentary glance she got of it, Tara notices a person in a big white hoodie who she's sure isn't you.
Now, the first thought running through her mind is: who?
And a couple of seconds later, the second thought she can't quite put a reason behind is: why? Why doesn't she know it yet? With how private you are being about it, it's obviously the person you are seeing right now, but in all the years you two have been friends, not once have you mentioned it to her nor made it something that she should know even without you telling her directly.
Her mind is racing, trying to put two and two together, but you don't seem ready to have that conversation with her yet, so Tara would rather delay it to another time when you actually feel like it rather than try to force it out of you. That would be for the best, she thinks.
A couple of weeks later, Xavier arrives to work wearing a very familiar looking white hoodie, but in the stress of work and upcoming reports, Tara doesn't seem to notice nor make the right conclusion yet.
Three: Insect bite
It has been getting a lot warmer recently, and with the arrival of long, humid summer nights and increased temperatures in your (and Xavier's) apartment, so did the days of suffering start to increase that you have to endure battling annoying mosquito bites — or well, at least the aftermath of them.
"It's impossible, I swear-" you groan out loud, squeezing your arm repeatedly in an attempt to stop yourself from itching it, "how am I supposed to fight wanderers when my body feels like it's on fire all the time?"
"I've been putting on insect repellent every single morning but there always happens to be a bite on me when I check in the mirror" Tara whines in response, shuddering, "I'm even scared to wear short sleeves at home!"
"Right?" you sigh, patting at your skin lightly, "At least with the uniform I'm not tempted to itch it all the time, but it seems to not get better at all, I really can't take this-"
"..Would this help?" you two look up and to your surprise (and delight) you take in the sight of Xavier standing in front of you; blue eyes, bright and curious, holding out two ice packs for both of you to take as he tilts his head in the typical Xavier-way, blinking softly while he observes quietly.
You press the cold compress against your shirt and let out a sigh of relief as the irritated skin underneath starts cooling down, and with it the urge to constantly itch it. There is a small smile forming on your lips you simply cannot hide; just last night you had complained to him about those stupid bites all over your arm and now here he was with some easy remedies at hand like he just happened to carry them around.
"You're a lifesaver!" Tara exclaims and you nod in agreement, trying hard not to let the loving excitement on your face show, "It feels so much better now!"
"I'm glad," Xavier hums as he casually rearranges the collar of his shirt, making Tara silently wonder how he's still capable of wearing two layers in this scorching heat and not break into a sweat at all. It's her momentary innocence that manages to draw a fluster out of you, because for a split second, you two spot a little pink mark just right underneath Xavier's nape that looks awfully similar to the same insect bites you two were just talking about.
"Oh, they got you too?"
Your face fills with warmth as you recall the actual reason for that obvious red spot, flashing memories of nights prior spent at his place making their way into your head and the way he had gently asked you for a favor with that beautiful blush drawn across his face. It something you don't do usually; afraid they get in the way with his every day activities, but the way he had proudly looked at the little mark left by you in front of the mirror that night — the smile on his lips never fading until you two fell asleep — made you feel weirdly happy about it.
Xavier reaches his hand out to gently tap at his neck, and the moment he realizes the misunderstanding rooted in that simple question, you watch as his ears start picking up on color: a beautiful shade of pink that never fails to make your stomach twist and turn.
He's absolutely adorable when he gets all flustered like that.
"That's not..-" Xavier mutters, covering the mark with his hand as he turns away quickly, pulling up his collar as if it wasn't already too late yet, "I.. I'm heading out now"
And without waiting for a response from either of you, Xavier rushes off and is out of the door in just mere seconds, the only trace left of him being the now slightly lukewarm cold compress in your hand.
"What was that about..?" Tara mumbles, tilting her head in confusion.
Your face feels on fire, your heart beating faster than ever before; yeah, there's no way you can tell her.
Four: Body wash
Maybe he's just overthinking this, or maybe it's just a mere coincidence.
But the longer that thought exists in his head, the more he starts to take notice of it, wondering if he's the only one in this room who has noticed or if it's actually nothing serious to consider at all.
It's not like he can just straight up ask you about it; pretty sure that's some kind of HR complaint just waiting to happen if word goes out that a member of the data analysis team is questioning why two of the best hunters of the Alpha Team are coincidentally smelling the same way. And trying to ask Xavier about it sounds just like a death wish waiting to happen.
Yeah, the longer he thinks about it, the weirder it sounds.
But it's kind of.. intriguing, is it not?
What is the reason that Xavier, who always looks so nonchalant about work and barely lifts an eyebrow when given information about dangerous wanderers, smells like a mixture of vanilla and flowers, which is the very same scent that Nero distinctively remembers coming from you just a couple of weeks ago?
If memory serves him right, it had been in the middle of a chat with Tara and you when the topic of recently bought goods came up and you excitedly told both of them about how you struck a great deal at the department store recently and bought a set of floral body washes. And that exact same scent that he had barely picked up that day, and continues to get a whiff of when you pass by each other in the office sometimes, Nero is almost 100% sure he is getting from Xavier as well.
Now, there are a few things to consider here that his over-thinking brain has tried to put together when coming up with a possible solution for this discovery he has made without jumping the gun too early.
One of them being the fact that he knows you two are neighbors who frequently leave work together, so maybe you happened to have another bottle left that you gifted him from that set of yours. It's common knowledge in the association that you two are close partners, so maybe it's just a 'friends-thing' and it's nothing that someone like him should even worry about.
Or maybe, with very little probability, Xavier just happens to have the same bottle at his place and it's all just an accident and a simple misunderstanding - nothing more than that.
At least that's one of the few conclusions he had come up with without making it seem like he's prying too far. And if he happens to be wrong about it, it wouldn't be as embarrassing later on: what kind of co-worker just goes ahead and thinks about whether or not his colleagues are dating each other just because they smell the same?
That would be… ridiculous, right?
Five: Rings
"I never thought you would be the type to like wearing rings"
It's a passing comment made as you three were stood in line, but the sudden reminder of it — and the realization that you were indeed still wearing your ring instead of having it sit in your drawer like usual —, draws an immediate fluster to your face.
With all the attention now drawn to that beautiful silver band sitting on your finger, you feel your hands starting to sweat. Does it look like jewelry simply worn because it looks pretty? Or could Tara and Simone both immediately tell that this was definitely more than that?
You usually make sure to keep your ring at home, mostly because you are scared of it getting damaged during a mission one day, but there have been a couple of instances where you've caught Xavier pitifully looking at your bare fingers, looking for it, when he definitely knows how you'd rather have it be safely stored at home than get lost one day.
"H-huh? Oh yeah, I don't like wearing it to work usually," you explain as warmth surrounds your face and makes it almost impossible to keep a cool face, "Don't want it to get in the way when fighting wanderers, you know?"
"Oh, I get it! I've been keeping my bracelets in a drawer at the office because of how loud they are when I'm working.." Tara sighs, shaking her head, "But at least I can wear them today when I'm out with you two!"
The line starts picking up and you three go and order your food at the counter before sitting down at a nearby table where you chat about work, recent happenings at home and new hobbies you picked up in your free time. It's in the middle of having coffee over some delicious pastries when out of the corner of her eye, Tara spots a familiar head of white hair as it passes by and makes it way to the counter.
"Wait, isn't that Xavier over there?"
You just barely manage not to choke on your drink. Wasn't he supposed to be helping out at Jeremiah's flower shop today? You remember telling him about your plans with Simone and Tara last night and he had told you how he was going to be out until late as well, yet now here he is, acting like you aren't just sitting mere meters away from him.
Your eyes land on him and at the very same time, Xavier turns his head to stare right back, making you jump a little. He smiles at you, and your stomach can't help but do a little flip as you respond with a little wave and watch as he does the same.
"Can't believe we're seeing him out here" Simone thinks out loud, taking a sip of her coffee, "It's so unusual"
Tara hums, "I've never seen him grab coffee at work either. What a pleasant surprise!"
You nod quietly.
Your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest, your hands sweating for a whole different reason right now. Right there, on Xavier's hand, you can spot the very same ring which you are currently wearing. It's the very same silver band which he usually wears on a necklace during work and refuses to take off when you two are back at home, no matter what chore he is doing.
Hesitantly, you glance over at Tara and Simone, thinking that right now is probably the moment you have to come clean about it, but neither of them look like they have something to bring up right now.
And just mere minutes later, Xavier is out of the door, holding a bag of drinks that you assume he is going to bring back to the shop.
As you feel your heart calm down, a weird feeling of guilt overcomes you. It's not like you were doing anything 'wrong' by dating him, so why did you need to keep it a secret for this long?
Maybe it's time to come clean about it. Finally.
—
"Xavier-"
"The door is locked. Nobody is supposed to be coming this way for another hour or so, don't worry"
His voice is calm but something about his tone seems strained and rushed. Every touch of his as it brushes your face and neck feels hot on your skin, every kiss placed on your face making your stomach turn; Xavier's eyes are half-lidded, his cheeks blushing beautifully and you don't think telling him to stop would be an option right now.
Not that you'd want him to.
It's been too long after all; too long since you've last seen him and had him in front of you and all to yourself because he has been away on a mission that took way longer than it was supposed to.
And the moment he had stepped into your sight, his eyes were saying it all. They were looking at you with a gaze full of desire and longing; like nothing mattered to him anymore except to have you right back in his arms again.
It was the first mission in a long time that you have spent away from each other for such a long while and maybe it was the anxiety of not knowing how much longer he would be gone for or if he's fine and safe, but the moment your eyes met his, suddenly all that worry about people possibly finding out didn't matter anymore. Suddenly, all you wanted is for him to be by your side and not leave again.
Xavier had asked you to meet him in one of the empty meeting rooms afterwards where his lips immediately found their way to yours the moment you had stepped inside and just barely managed to close the door. His hands were holding onto your face as if they were holding his most precious treasure, his soft voice repeating over and over again how much he missed you and missed having you in his arms again.
Your stomach was fluttering with every kiss he pressed against your neck and every bite he left in places you weren't sure you could hide anymore. And as your fingers wrapped around his neck, gently brushing strands of hair of his along the back of his neck, every groan and sigh quietly coming out of his mouth felt like music to you, nails digging into your sides as if wanting to leave yet another mark.
"H-How much time left?" you ask, gasping for air as he nuzzles his face into your neck and his fingers slowly sneak up your shirt.
"Don't think about that," Xavier responds, eyes blown as he presses his body closer onto yours, "Just focus on me right now-"
A sharp knock startles you out of your temporary haze, your eyes immediately setting on the meeting room door that has been slightly opened for a voice to call out to you two.
"I'd rather not interrupt you two in the middle of your.. fervent reunion, but we are about to have a meeting in ten and Xavier is supposed to be reporting on his findings," Jenna explains, a fluster apparent in her voice, "We are delaying it for another fifteen minutes if needed, but please make haste and let me know whenever you are ready to start"
It takes another second after the door closes for you to finally realize what had just happened, your whole face on fire as you scramble to straighten out your clothes and look at Xavier, absolutely mortified.
"I thought you said the door was closed..!" you squeal, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.
"Well, I thought it was" he mumbles, ears glowing, "But I was going to make sure nobody would be able to see you anyways"
"That's not-"
Xavier grins, and there something about this smile that makes you think he might just have lied to you, "But we don't have to hide it anymore now, though, do we?"
Fucking with Xavier in the dark of your apartment, going rounds upon rounds of making each other cum, sweat and slick connecting your bodies... your lips to his as he chases your mouth to kiss you... your pussy to his cock as he pounds into you relentlessly, a ring of whiteness forming around his shaft, a mix of your own cum and his.
And the one thing that makes your vision swim as he hits another deep spot inside you is how sweetly he talks into your ear, giving you the chance to choose where to spill yet another impending release.
“O-On me, baby...” you moan, scratching down his back.
He groans into your neck, snapping his hips even faster. You're on the tip of an orgasm yourself, and all you need to cum is feel his teeth catch the juncture of your neck in a bite that is sure to bruise.
Your eyes cross as pain and pleasure shoots through you like lightening, body dragging up and down the mattress as Xavier continues to fuck into your spasming cunt while you milk him greedily.
He waits until the last second to pull out, splashing ropes of his translucent, slowing cum over your pussy and lower belly, rubbing the tip of his cock over your sensitive clit and smearing his cum between your folds.
You love to be covered like this, love the feeling of stickiness, the way his load covers your skin like shooting stars. Because, as you learned early in your sexual relationship, not only does Xavier glow from happiness or excitement, but his cock glows too... and with it, his cum as well.
The first time it happened, it had you so excited and horny that you begged for him to face-fuck you and stroke himself as he came all over your face. Then the next time it was your tits, then your ass cheeks and back, and in the end, there was no inch he hasn't covered.
He smears it over your entrance, having you moan as he dips inside briefly, shooting just a little bit in there too. Meanwhile his fingers gathered some from your belly and smear it around your nipple and then over your lips.
The smirk on his face is one of pure lust and possessiveness, but above that, one of pride when you easily part your lips, tongue peeking out, eager for a taste.
You just give him a dazed smile, tongue circling his two fingers clean, body glowing in the darkness of the bedroom where his cum dries slowly on your skin...
...and then his cock slips inside your warmth again, because there is one more place needed to be marked tonight.
The sunlight streaming through your window makes you wince. Your head is pounding something awful. It aches from the alcohol you drank last night, and your empty stomach feels like it’s eating itself.
Goodness, you think, What time is it? You can barely crack your eyes open to check the clock. The only reprieve is it’s Saturday and you have the whole weekend to recover before work on Monday. You want to close the blinds for some peace and darkness to get started on that recovery, but you can’t imagine getting up. Instead, you aggressively tug the duvet over your head, only to find it catching on something. It prevents you from fully putting it over your head. Then you hear it: the quiet breathing of another body beside you. Curious and a little concerned, you open your eyes a sliver and gasp. Soft, ash blond hair, a tall nose, squishy cheeks that taper down into a point. Xavier.
Why was Xavier in your bed?
Then you glance down and see his bare collarbones. He’s not wearing a shirt, you realize, and apparently, neither are you. You’re not wearing anything, in fact. It’s not a stretch to assume Xavier isn’t either. Your cheeks heat up. What happened last night?
You close your eyes and your sluggish mind manages to piece together the night before. Tara had organized a casual after work event. She invited all of the young coworkers who could reasonably be considered a friend, and even managed to get Nero and Xavier to join. It was everyone on your team besides Jenna, who refused to cross work boundaries, and then more. You all pregamed at Tara’s apartment after work and then left for the club before the alcohol could catch up with you. At the nightclub, you downed another drink because Tara said she’d pay for a round. Since you technically hadn’t bought anything yet, you paid for another drink for yourself. You reasoned it was like a two-for-one deal. The cocktails didn’t even taste like alcohol, as sweet as they were.
You remember meandering through the dance floor, the thrum of the music pulsating deep into your bones. You hadn’t gone out in months and you missed dressing up and losing yourself, away from the stress and struggles of everyday life. You remember dancing in your heels and someone else’s hands on your hips. The other person pressed close against you. You couldn’t even hear him over the sound of the DJ.
The next memory was you struggling to unlock your front door with the fingerprint ID. You can recall this because you were getting frustrated, wiping your finger on your dress and your dress on the lock a few times. As you did so, arms were wrapped around your waist as you both giggled deliriously at the incredulity of it. The world tilted under your feet from the influence of alcohol as you both scrambled into the apartment. You stumbled out of your heels and your back hit the wall. The kiss was hot and messy. You couldn’t wait to lead him to your bedroom.
You straddled him on the bed. He pulled your strapless dress down just enough to pinch and then finally suck at your nipples. At some point, you remember your face in the sheets, panting and gasping, your ass high in the air, his cock plowing through you. You thought to yourself how your makeup was going to get ruined, how your sheets were going to be caked with foundation and mascara, but then he spanked your ass and your mind went blank.
You rub at your face. Oh god, what was I thinking?! Xavier is your best friend, your neighbor, and your work partner. What had transpired between the two of you could mess everything up. Xavier is so entangled into every part of your life now. Without him, your whole world would darken. This is not to mention the crush you’ve been harboring for him the past few months. If Xavier wakes up and thinks this whole thing was a mistake, it would count as a romantic rejection for you too.
You shift in bed, trying to get out and get dressed. Maybe if you make some breakfast and act normal, you can pretend this whole thing never happened. But you must be making too much noise or moving too fast, because you suddenly feel the arms around your waist tighten.
“Where are you going?” Xavier mutters, eyes still close.
“Y-you’re awake?” you whisper. “I’ve been awake for a while now. I’m just resting my eyes.” He pulls you closer to him. His face fits right between your chin and shoulder. Your heart aches at how tender this is, at how many times you’ve imagined being in this position with him. If only it hadn’t happened like this. You’re no longer sure how to proceed, but it seems like Xavier isn’t concerned. You’re tempted to analyze this further but ultimately decide you can confront it later, when your head throbs a little less.
When you wake up for the second time, you’re alone in bed. A pang of sadness goes through you. You didn’t expect Xavier to just leave you like that, but you also couldn’t blame him. He’s never made any moves on you despite the closeness you share. You’re under the impression he’s only ever seen you as a platonic friend, and that’s what deters you from confessing your feelings for him. If he left you while you were sleeping, maybe he does consider this whole fiasco a mistake. It will be so awkward facing him now, won’t it? What if he asks for a new work partner or doesn’t even say hi to you in the hallway?
A clanging sound in your kitchen draws you out of your depressive spiral. Did Xavier not leave after all? You feel better after the second round of sleep, though your stomach grumbles for food, so you get up and rifle through the pile of clothes on your chair for an old, baggy sweatshirt. You put on clean underwear and lift the sweatshirt off just enough to clip on a bra. You finger comb your hair as you go into the bathroom attached to your room to brush your teeth and relieve yourself. Afterwards, you pour way too much makeup remover onto a cotton pad and wipe away any trace amounts of makeup before washing your face in the sink. You hurry, because you’re afraid Xavier will leave. Done with quickly freshening up, you leave your bedroom and peer around the corner to see what Xavier is doing. He’s ladling congee from a takeout container into two bowls, which he then places onto a tray with long strips of deep fried dough. He must’ve gone out to get it while you were asleep, and he also must’ve stopped by his own apartment to change clothes because he’s now wearing his usual white hoodie and gray sweatpants. You watch as he tops the bowls with ginger, green onions, and pork floss. This must be a good sign if he got you both breakfast, right? You take tentative steps out of your hiding spot.
Xavier looks up at your approach. “You’re awake. I got us breakfast.”
“It looks delicious. Thank you, Xavier.”
He brings the tray to your couch and as the two of you eat, he doesn’t bring up what happened last night. As a matter of fact, he’s as he’s always been. He even puts up old, hand-drawn cartoons that often play on the kid’s channel on weekend mornings. Once the two of you finish eating, you go to wash the dishes. Xavier stays on the couch, watching the cartoons, and chuckling once in a while as the cartoon mouse evades his archnemesis, the housecat. It’s not until you’re almost finished with the dishes that you find him approaching you. He stands right behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, just like when you were laying in bed earlier. This time, his hands slide under your sweatshirt and splay against your skin. His head rests on your shoulder.
Your breath hitches as his fingertips fidget and smooth along the planes of your stomach and sides, where you’re most ticklish. You fight the urge to flinch away, scared of what his continuing touch means but also craving for more of it nonetheless.
“That bowl is clean of soap,” he says. You pull your attention back to the sink.
“That it is,” you murmur. You turn off the faucet and place the clean bowl on the drying rack. Xavier doesn’t move and neither do you. Your hips dig into the counter as you let his hands explore you.
“You put on a bra.” He’s cupping your breasts over the fabric. You practically hear the pout in his voice. He circles each of your nipples over the thin material and you sharply inhale. The feeling goes straight to your groin, but it seems you’re not the only one. You feel his hardness pressing against your back, obvious under the thin material of his sweatpants.
“Your weakness,” he whispers before kissing your neck. He means your nipples, which have always been overly sensitive. His lips rise higher to ghost the thin skin just under your ear, and you let out a full body shudder. You feel him smile before he kisses you there and nibbles at the lobe of your ear. Without realizing it, you press your hips back against him, your legs rubbing together to put pressure between your core. His hands glide under the underwire.
“Xavier!” you gasp.
He kisses the area under your ear again. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me the past few months?” He mumbles against you. His teeth graze your neck before giving it an apologetic lick and kiss. His right hand slides down to reach into your underwear. He parts the folds and dips his middle finger inside for only a second, enough to lubricate his finger with your gathering wetness, before rubbing at your bundle of nerves. You feel shaky on your legs. You can’t believe what’s happening right now. “I danced with you last night. And then you were grinding on me. Do you remember? You pushed your hips against mine, just like how you’re doing right now. I even had to move us away from where our coworkers were sitting. Then, because we were at the corner of the club, you turned around and pushed me against the wall to kiss me. You even had a finger in my waistband. I was afraid you’d try to take my pants off right there.”
You flush. You did that? You’ve never known yourself to be so bold.
“You’re lying,” you say weakly.
“I never lie to you.”
“Xavier,” you gasp. “Th-that feels good.”
He hums and moves his left hand away from your breast to the back of your underwear. He reaches lower and lower until he has a finger inserted into your folds, pistoning in and out, before a second one joins. His right hand still rubs furiously at your clit. With the dual sensations, you feel like you’re on the edge, the pleasure too much. The juxtaposition of his usual gentleness with this new side revealed to you excites you. You hold your breath and still. One final rub against your sweet spot and you’re tipping over. The orgasm rips a whimper out of you.
“I got you,” he says soothingly. The hand that’s inside you wraps around your waist but the one on your clit doesn’t let go. Rather, he moves slower, sometimes even tapping the nub, as he works his way through your release. Your breath is heavy, eyes falling shut. You grab his wrist but his touch is so addicting, you can’t bring yourself to yank him away.
“Xavier, that feels good. You’re making me feel so good.” You rock against him until you’re finally down from your high. He removes his hand, but the ghost of his touch is still there. Your body is buzzing. Before you can return to reality and let mortification set in, Xavier is grinding himself against your backside.
“I want to be inside you,” his voice, when he speaks, is so quiet. “Will you let me in?” His blue eyes are pleading. You’re always shocked by the color of them. You can never say no to them. You lick your lips and nod, and it’s all the permission he needs before he’s sliding your underwear down to your knees. He bunches up your sweatshirt and bends you over the sink. His cock splits you open, until he’s in to the hilt. You gasp and reach for his hand on your hip.
“Hold on, wait. I need to get used to you. Just–don’t move yet.”
“I didn't think you'd need to, after last night." Another kiss on your neck makes you clench around him. He groans but continues speaking. "I wish you could see what I see right now. You’re completely stretched around me.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You’ve imagined Xavier like this before, in the dim of the night when you’re by yourself pining for him. It’s another thing to hear it outside of your thoughts. Your breath wavers.
Once you feel adjusted, you push back against him slowly. He takes this opportunity to pull out of you almost completely before pushing back in. He sets a languid, rhythmic pace. You reach a hand down to play with yourself and Xavier makes a noise of encouragement. You moan, melting with the stimulation. Behind you, Xavier grunts but he's unrelenting.
All of a sudden, he pulls out and turns you around. He lifts one thigh up so your knee is bent at his elbow, your foot dangling. He pushes into you again, and at this angle, he reaches deeper inside. You’re lightheaded from the way your breath hitches with each movement. He keeps pulling out almost to the tip before slamming in forcefully, ripping moan after moan out of you. You’re pleased to realize that you have an effect on him, too. Small beads of sweat gather at his temples, his eyes half-lidded, mouth parted. You can’t stop looking at his lips. You want him to kiss you.
He groans, pale brows furrowing. “I’m gonna cum,” he manages, voice raspy.
You nod vigorously, begging. “Yes, do it. Cum inside me. Please!”
With a few more rapid thrusts, he buries himself deep inside you. His cock pulses, painting your walls. Your forehead lays on his shoulder. His breath is rough in your ear, groaning as he spurts inside. After a few moments, he softens and slips out of you. He grabs some paper towels and wets them to clean himself and then you. You lean against the sink, coming down from your high. You take birth control, but to tell him to cum inside was a whole new level of infatuation. You press your face into your hands.
“What’s wrong?” He presses his fingertips to your arm. You can’t look at him right now, but you picture his brows furrowed in concern, a small frown on his lips. It’s the same expression as when he can’t win a stuffed animal at the arcade claw machine.
“Um.” You position your body in his direction at least. Your underwear is on the ground and you just orgasmed from your best friend who you also accidentally hooked up with last night. How does one react in this situation? There isn’t a manual for this.
“Did you…not want that?” he asks sadly.
You pull your hands away from your face. “No! I mean…not ‘no’ as in I didn’t want it. I did want it. It felt really good.” You bite your lower lip. “I’m just afraid of how this will affect our friendship.”
“It doesn’t have to affect anything,” replies Xavier. He says it like it's simple. “We can keep doing what we’ve always done. That is, if you agree and want to continue our friendship. What do people call that? Friends with benefits?”
Friends with benefits. Your heart drops but you ignore it. You can live in a fantasy if it means you get to keep your friendship and have a little more.
This is how it all starts. You and Xavier continue trying out new restaurants every weekend, hanging out in each other’s apartments after work, and bantering and bickering and debating every little thing. You even spend New Years together making lanterns and go to the fair when it comes to town. On missions, Xavier continues to defend you with his life, and you have his back when the Wanderers close in. The nights just end a little differently now.
I just finished reading this ao3 fic of rafayel and nonmc (ofc it’s me, all I read are nonmc fics)
I assure y’all that this fic is so incredible and it feels really right to the heart. It feels like it caresses my whole heart and lemurian spirit (in my fantasy ofc)
what I can remember is that it has
- nonmc x raf
- mc is a rlly good person here, yk cuz most fics villainize mc which is rlly not my cup of tea I just want peaceful loving, also it’s not mc centric kind of nonmc fic where the conflict revolves around choosing between mc or nonmc
- inn manager! nonmc who’s loved by everyone in whitesand bay (she also has a bff who’s named caroline which made me feel giddy cuz I love carebear from tvd and I imagine it as her cuz her personality in this fic matches too!!)
- ofc it has smidges of angst, who am I without angst
- so basically, raf and nonmc were friends and shared a night together and created a little fishie
- so it’s like a slice of life and everything
- it amazes me so much, how the author was able to describe love wonderfully and not just by words but they were able to integrate it into every single detail in the story and brought “love” to life
"My cutie walked in here like she had a choice" Rafayel mocks, drinking in the sight of you kneeling in front of him, lips parted, cheeks flushed, chest heaving like you're already fucked, and he hasn't even started.
His fingers work deftly at his belt, unbuckling it with a swift tug. In an instant, he's wrapped the leather strap around your wrists, cinching it tight until the edges dig into your skin. Tight enough to remind you, sharply, that you don't belong to anyone but him.
He hauls you to your feet using the belt until your back slams against the wall, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat in a perfect helpless noise.
His fingers trail down your quivering stomach, tracing the dip of your navel until they reach soaked heat. You flinch at his touch, legs instinctively trying to close, but he grips your throat reminding you who's in control here. Not you.
"Open, Y/N" he whispers hotly against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. The command is clear, even if the words are few. He's not interested in your mouth.
When your thighs part for him, he wastes no time sliding two long fingers knuckle deep inside you. Tight. Hot. Wet.
"You were in the N109 zone for soooo long I thought you'd forgotten about me. Did you have fun with...what was his name? Oh," his fingers curl deeper, striking a bumpy spot that makes you arch. "Sylus, yeah?" the name falls from his lips like a curse.
Your thighs tremble and your eyes flutter closed as you instinctively start to grind against his hand, chasing that perfect friction, that exquisite curl of his fingers. But he denies you that control. With a sharp tug he unties your hands and drags you towards the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up.
He spits and you whimper as the thick, obscene slide of his saliva drips down your already wet pussy. The sound of his zipper lowering is your only warning before he's thrusting inside you, stretching you open around his thick cock. The breath is knocked clean out of your lungs as he hilts inside you, filling you to the brim.
His rhythm feels brutal, each thrust steady and merciless, pounding into you with a force that makes your toes curl. You try to close your legs again, but he keeps them spread wide, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise.
"Raf!" you cry out, voice breaking on a sob. But he just chuckles.
"Say it"
You try to hold back, to deny him the words he wants to hear. But he fucks them out of you anyway.
"Please, s-Sir..." you barely whisper.
He hears it. Owns it. And he uses it, to fuck you even harder, deeper, until your body tightens, so close and desperate.
Without warning or mercy he stops and tears start to stream down your face.
"Oh, my sweet miss bodyguard," his fingers trail up the curve of your spine, a mocking caress that makes you shiver. "Did you really think that was the end? That I was done with you?" His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes "Shhh, don't cry, baby"
The tension is unbearable, like a knife's edge pressed against your skin, your sanity. You're leaking with the need to break but he refuses to let you fall.
"Poor thing," he pouts, voice dripping with false sympathy as he starts to move again. His thrusts now slow, deliberate, each one a precise, measured slide of his perfect cock dragging against your gummy walls.
Before you can even think to arch your hips to meet his thrusts, his hands are on you. Fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, holding you still. A sharp click of his tongue fills the air, a sound of disapproval.
"Was it this good, cutie? Does he fuck you just as good as I do?" His voice is edged with something that sounds like jealousy. But that can't be right. He owns you, body and soul. He has no need for jealousy.
You shake your head and try to form the words to assure him, to tell him that no one could ever make you feel the way he does, but he's moving faster now. Your body spasms, back arching as a loud moan tears from your throat.
He stops again and a curse falls from your lips "Hush now," his fingers sink into your mouth, filling it. "You're not here just for pleasure."
He thrusts again and you clench so tightly around him that it hurts you both. He uses that pain and your desperation until you're sobbing around his fingers. Tears leaking from your eyes, drool leaking from your mouth.
Your cunt flutters desperately, as if trying to steal his permission to cum. He removes his fingers from your mouth and pulls back, admiring the sight of your pussy gripping his cock, strings of your arousal connecting you both. Shamelessly he reaches down and spreads your ass cheeks, putting your needy hole on lewd display.
"You want to cum?" One hand moves to your lower belly, feeling the shape of his cock as it throbs inside your. Demanding. Insistent.
"Y-yesfuckfuckyesplease," you babble, too far gone to form coherent words.
"Then fucking earn it," he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your stomach. "Beg for it"
His hand moves lower, finding your clit to rub the puffy nub in slow, grinding circles, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you scream.
"Please, Sir..."
"Good girl, now cum for me" An order. Hes not looking for your release, but for your obedience.
With one last swipe of his finger against your clit, you shatter. Your body seizes, jerking and locking up, before collapsing into the mattress. Spent. Broken.
He stays buried inside you, hands gripping yours tightly behind your back, holding you in place and using them as reins. Even when your pussy spasms and clenches hard around him, he doesn't stop. He thrusts once again, riding out your climax, using it to drive himself to his own end.
When your bodies are nothing but trembling wrecks, he leans in, lips brushing your temple, breath hot and ragged. Whispering. "Now you know what you are,"
He licks away a fresh tear as it spills down your cheek, tasting salt and surrender. Then, in a voice that leaves no room for doubt, he speaks the truth.
