Game of Thrones Daily
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KIROKAZE
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Fai_Ryy
★
tannertan36
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Noah Kahan
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Love Begins
Claire Keane
almost home
Kiana Khansmith
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Cosimo Galluzzi
seen from Maldives
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@renalunare
A little fishie fluff to calm everyone‘s nerves. 🥰
A sudden gentle gust of Sea breeze tickles your nose, and you open your eyes. Only to be met with the sight of your most important person laying beside you in the big double bed, already watching you with his unique and mesmerizing gaze.
“Good morning, Cutie.” Rafayel whispers tenderly, while his long elegant fingers are playing lazily with your hand, that is tucked between you.
A lazy yawn escapes you, before you are awake enough to form a sentence. “Morning… Have you been watching me sleep? Again?”
The Lemurian breathingly chuckles, an amused glint crosses the ocean of his eyes. “Just a little. You’re snoring woke me.” The teasing in his tone unmistakably.
You pull back your hand from his soft grasp to shove him at his shoulder. “Heey! I do not snore! You are the literal fish on land here!”
But Rafayel is quick to capture your mischievous hand again and pulls you closer to his body, one arm sneaks around yours to embracing you in is his warmth. A tender quick kiss at your temple and you melt helplessly into him.
And with a little giggle “I was lying. It’s already far past morning. Time for breakfast, your sleepy highness.”
At his words you only grumble and scoot even closer, your face ahead into his chest. “Mmmmh… don’t want to get up. It’s my only free day that I get to spend with you.” Your arms have successfully wriggled around the slim waist of the painter, making it impossible for him to escape. Satisfied you sigh into the silken fabric of his sleep shirt.
But just as you want to close your eyes again, your stomach grumbles to betray your plans. That earns you another light chuckle from your boyfriend. “It seems your belly has other plans, cutie. Come on, release me and I’ll make you brunch. Le Chef speciale. How does that sound?”
A kiss is planted at the crown of your hand, and the thought of something to eat alone, already waters your mouth. But you also don’t want to let go of Rafayel.
But he already slips out of your trap, that slippery fish, and gets to stand up to slip into the fluffy pink house slippers you brought together at one of the various markets you visited.
“Then let’s do it together! I’ll help you. This way we don’t miss a single second of our time!”
A wide and gentle smile turns the plush lips into a form you want to kiss immediately. Rafayel walks around the bed with long strides to come to a halt beside you. A large hand reaches out to you, inviting and waiting.
“Then grace me with your presence and be my sous chef, Miss maître!”
With a giggle you take it and are quickly pulled up, only to land against Rafayel’s upper body again.
A warm arm rests around your waist and eyes like the sunset at sea gaze deep into your own. “But I demand compensation for the upcoming mess in my kitchen. A kiss should be enough.“
You can’t even protest at his little mocking about your talent in spreading chaos while cooking. Full and soft lips are meeting yours a second later, and you’re swept away in the passion that comes with it. For a moment you forget what you wanted to do. Rafayel’s taste and the feeling of his mouth on yours the only thing on your mind.
hard launch ˖ᡣ𐭩°⟡.ೃ࿔
— in which you finally disclose your relationship status to the public. spoiler alert: no one is happy
ft: all six LIs x reader (separately) content: fluff notes: notice how the posts have NOT been hearted. hoes mad :p
© f3v3rdr3eam5 — do not repost, copy or translate my works without permission.
You knew Rafayel could be mean. But this? This was making your head spin.
"You're so beautiful like this, cutie." His words are sweet, yet his tone is clearly mocking. You strain against the ropes keeping you pinned to the bed, the gag in your mouth preventing you from voicing your desperation.
Your cruel yet beautiful boyfriend is settled between your spread legs, absentmindedly turning a wand vibrator in his hand. The other rests on your thigh, stroking the heated skin slowly. Probably intended to be a comforting gesture, but it only works you up more.
He'd been at this for hours.
"Focus. Don't start going dumb on me now. Though, that's your natural state, isn't it?" He smacks the sensitive skin of your inner thigh to regain your attention, smiling as you quickly lock onto his form. His smile is so joyous, so charming. At least, you're pretty sure it is. It's hard to see through the tears.
"P-please!" You manage to whine through the gag, though it has the opposite effect. His gaze darkens, leaning over you until he's so close his nose nearly brushes yours.
"I told you to be quiet, didn't I?" His tone is soft, but the underlying threat is clear. You nod quickly, and it passes in a flash. He grins, kissing your forehead and sitting back up.
"You're usually such a good listener cutie! Haven't gone that dumb yet, have you?" He lowers the vibrator back down to your aching clit, relishing in the way you gasp, back arching in a desperate attempt to get away from the stimulation.
"Getting close?" He practically laughs at your pinched expression of desperation, tears soaking the pillow under your head. As if feeling bad for your poor pitiful form, he leans down once more, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb.
"Aw, don't cry! I'll let you cum soon, okay?" He pulls the gag from your mouth, allowing you the reprieve of pleading openly.
"Please! Pl-please Raf I-I can't take anymore please-please let me cum?"
For a moment, everything freezes. Like the calm before a storm, he studies you intensely, as if you're no more than a small fish floating by the open sharks' mouth.
"Alright. Since you were so well behaved today. You can cum. But not yet. I didn't give you permission to speak, remember?"
Come See Me In My Office (Blurb; LADS)
NSFW, 18+ MDNI
Description: You and Rafayel are both professors. Tensions rise and a sexual relationship develops.
WC: 1.4k
BEEN thinking about Prof Raf for a while now, however this idea received a new element bc of my LOVELY MOOTIE @galaconic's idea. BLESS YOU QUEEN. (TW: voyeurism/exhibitionism kinda??? i mean yeah lol)
Wish I could've wrote this using a name "Ms. Last Name" style but alas, for the x reader grind, I just went with "Miss"! Enjoy! I'VE NEVER WRITTEN RAF BEAR WITH ME!!! I KNOW THIS IS SECOND PLACE ON THE POLL BUT SNOWAPPLE IS COOKING TRUST!!!
- Blueberry જ⁀➴ ৻ꪆ (Masterlist)
This was months—and months—in the making. An endless tease…an endless flirtation…
“Miss, when are you going to stop by for a lecture?”
Passing you in the hall, “Can I stop by your class later?”
“So, Miss, when are you gonna let me paint you, hm?”
Leaning in close to you in one of the faculty offices, whispering, “You look cute today, Miss.”
All of which happened, over and over, long before you finally found yourselves stumbling into his office, ripping each other’s clothes off to explore every single inch of one another’s bodies.
Sat on his desk completely bare with your legs spread, “We r-really shouldn’t be doing t-this—ngh—s-shit.”
“Hm, why cutie?” His lips land on your inner thigh, his index and middle finger slowly pushing into your entrance, “It’s not like you’re my student or I’m yours...”
“Y-yeah, but—” you whine when his fingers are inside you completely, a slight curl upward, “oh m-my god…”
“But, what?” He starts to pump his fingers in and out, delicate and smooth, “Shh, you’re so pretty—being so good for me.”
You gasp, your fingers coiling around the edge of his desk for support, “And i-if we—nngh—get caught?”
He brings his mouth straight to your dripping cunt, hovering directly over your clit while his fingers continue to work you, “We won’t. Promise.”
All of those “little” comments—and lingering, burning gazes—built up over months, with the added coffee or pastry brought to you before your class started, left you here.
***
Why you ever agreed to this was absolutely beyond your comprehension. He was persuasive, very persuasive—to say the least. He promised he wouldn’t actually use it. However, even you weren’t naive to that particular glint in his eyes that you let you know he was lying. That lie excited you—so you agreed.
In recent weeks, you spent way too many mornings rushing out from his house to get to work on time. But this morning… This morning, after he made you cum numerous times, he then got down onto his knees, pushing a small oval-shaped vibrator into your already spent and leaking cunt.
“Raf—h-hurry up—I’m gonna be late—I-I—” He slows his pace, leaving teasing kisses along your slit until the toy is buried inside you completely.
“But…you’re just sooo pretty. Gonna be good for me today, hm? Don’t wanna make me use this—” he picks up the small remote by his side, “do you?”
You bite your bottom lip hard, peering down at him and shaking your head no. After using his other hand to spread your slit with his fingers to get a good look, he looks back up at you, “Oh? No, you’re not gonna be good for me? Or no, you wanna make me use this, hm?”
“No—n-no. I’ll be good, I swear. P-please, don’t use i-it.” Holding your slit spread with his fingers, his tongue grazes over your exposed clit and you whine loudly, still so sensitive from before.
He groans, licking you once more, “God, but you’re just so perfect. It’ll be sooo hard not to. I can see it now…”
You moan, a tremble already returning to your thighs, “R-Raf—”
He practically bats his lashes at you, cooing, “What about right now, hm? Before you go…”
“I c-can’t—we already—I’m g-gonna be—” with a simple click from his thumb on the remote, the toy starts vibrating, your walls immediately twitching and clenching around it at the feel of its subtle vibration, “Nngh!”
“So…pretty…” He drops the remote, both of his hands immediately gripping your thighs and holding you apart so he can suck on your clit.
He was sure to make you cum at least once more before you left—that much, came easy…literally.
Whether the toy was on or not, you were soaked all fucking day, your panties sticking and clinging to you as you squeezed your thighs together, which only prompted you to frequently recollect this morning. The fact that is was there, waiting under the threat of being used, made your cunt clench around it, over…and over. All. Day.
***
Toward the tail end of your last lecture for the day, your face falls mid-sentence at the feeling of a low vibration deep inside your cunt. That. Fucking. Asshole.
After struggling your way through your last few reminders, staying as calm as you are able, “Class— …dismissed!” With only a few brow raises around the room, when your students start shuffling out, you immediately sit down, trying to focus all of your attention on your desktop—hoping and praying there are no end-of-class questions. By the grace of all that is good, you receive none.
Once everyone is gone, Rafayel does a slow clap as he walks in, “Bravo, bravo, cutie.”
You snap your head toward the sound of his voice, your hands gripping the edge of your desk, “Y-you—!”
He tsks, walking closer to you, “Ah, ah. I mean what I said. You did a very good job.”
With his left hand in his pocket, the closer he gets the vibration only gets stronger, “Mm—ngh—s-stop—holy s-shit—the d-door is still—”
He raises his brows, the pace of the vibration stabilizing—for now, “Open? Mhm. You should stay quiet, then.”
You whine, trying your very hardest to keep your voice down, “Rafayel—!”
He places his free hand on the edge of your desk, smirking down at you in your chair, “That’s Professor to you, Miss.”
You scowl at him, but your face can’t hold the expression long as your lips part and your burrows furrow, “We’re both—gah—mmmph—you asshole—ngh!”
His voice is a coo, drinking in each twitch of your expression, “So gorgeous…” When you let a quiet moan slip, he cocks a brow at you, “Are you gonna cum at your desk, hm?”
“P-please—h-holy fuck—” You tilt back into your chair, trying to squeeze your legs together to no avail.
Leaning in toward you, his right hand on your desk and his left still in his pocket, his look is beyond devious, “So naughty, what if someone were to walk in, huh?”
“Y-you—”
The vibration gets stronger, again, “Shh, be a good girl and keep your voice down.” He grins when your eyes close as you bite your bottom lip, “That’s it…”
Your eyes snap back open, “Raf!” You lean forward and snatch the end of his tie, drawing his face toward yours in desperation.
He tsks again, shaking his head, “Quiet. You can do it, cutie. You did so well while teaching your class. You can handle it, hm?” While staring down at your lips, “Now, the whole room is empty—just us.”
Quickly losing your ability to fight it for much longer, you gaze back at his own lips—his smirk—visualizing the look of him this morning, “F-fuck—nngh—”
His lips inch toward yours, “Mmhm, good gi—”
At the end of the room by the door, a voice breaks the tension and immediately makes you come back down to earth and silences Rafayel, “Miss? Oh—!” You instantly let go of his tie and he stands up straight, cocking his head back and to the side as you both look over.
“U-um—” thankfully, from his hand in his pocket, the device clicks off, “s-sorry, he was—”
He interrupts you, standing up straighter and using his teacherly tone, “Helping her navigate some documents on her desktop. Did you need something?”
“O-oh, um, I was just going to ask Miss when the study guide would be posted.”
“This weekend! Mhm, probably Fri—” he glances at you, his eyes widening slightly—he is taking you out this Friday, “Saturday. On Saturday.”
The student smiles, “Great, thanks! See you next week!”
“Of course, see you then.” You let out the deepest sigh when they turn around to leave.
As soon as the student steps out completely, you snatch his tie and draw him straight back down to your face. After an initial eyebrow raise, he grins, “Go close. That. Fucking. Door.”
“Yes, Miss,” he pulls his tie out from your grasp with his right hand, turning away and walking toward the door, “whatever you say.” From within his pocket once again, the device turns back on.
“Y-you—!” He closes the door all right, but only with him on the other side of it. You eek out a whine, “Raf!”
“Oh my god—” You know he’s staying at least relatively close by, the connection from device to remote not that strong. “That f-fucking—mmmph—nngh!”
You press your forehead down against the edge of your desk, gasping and squirming in your seat. You nearly shriek when you feel the vibration get just one notch stronger from the place it last left off. “O-oh—fuck—I’m gonna kill—nngh!” You squeeze your thighs together and bite your palm, mewling into your hand as you cum violently.
Just as you’re panting, still a hefty tremble in your thighs, your phone vibrates from a text message.
Rafayel: cum see me in my office cutie
This man was pure—tortuous and sexy—evil.
Summary: Valko explains it takes two to knot. A/n: @reilemon, I wrote it. Lol. MDNI banner by @/ cafekitsune
Your thighs shiver as you struggle to keep them open for Valko's gentle caresses on your clit. Sensitive and swollen, you whimper as it throbs heatedly under his fingers. Small tears trace salty tracks down your cheeks and Valko kisses them away without stopping his maddening touches.
"Val, please…" you beg, nails sinking into his arm, leaving half-moon dents in his thick biceps. "Been ages...No more...just need to cum..."
He licks your ear, followed by a nibble as his free hand cups your breast, tweaking your pebbled nipple in time with his circles on your clit. "You're not ready yet mouse," he purrs, his hot breath tickling your skin.
"Do you know why I need you all hot and drippy and tender before I breed you?" That deep, throaty voice that Valko used when he was explaining biology takes over, pushing you further into sin. "Do you know how knotting works?"
You gasp as he slides a finger into your slick pussy, thrusting gently as his thumb takes over working your engorged bud. "I'm only one half of the knot, sweetheart."
Your walls clench around the invading digit, too eager for the stimulation. "What?" Mind hazy and fractured, you barely form the word.
"Yes little mouse. See, you help form the knot too." He licks the shell of your ear, tugging your nipple to keep you alert. "When I touch you like this, you get a little needier for me every second. And the needier you get, the wetter you get. And the wetter you are, the easier for me to slide right into this poor little hole that's desperate for my cock."
A shivering moan tears from your throat as his finger disappears past his knuckle, and he presses into your clit firmly, continuing those circling motions.
"What do you think happens if you're not as needy as you should be, and I slip in?" He pauses all his actions, giving you a second to gather your wits and reply, but all you could think about was having an orgasm, to fall apart on his fingers like a little pathetic toy.
"You don't know?" He chuckles lowly, but kisses your cheek. "That's ok mouse. If you did, it means I'm not touching you right." And all at once, he resumes everything, your body tight as a bowstring under his wicked ministrations.
"See, if you're not completely ready, these walls here won't swell up when I breed you. And if they aren't swollen, then it means my knot won't last as long. It'll slip out sooner. Do you want that?"
You shake your head no as you gulp in air, hips arching shamelessly against his hand.
"Good girl," Valko growls. "Yeah, you want to be knotted good as I pump you full of cum, huh? Want me all up in there as long as possible, milk me dry with those heavenly walls."
He inserts a second finger and you nearly black out from the pleasure as he scissors, stretching your walls to their limit. You cunt spasms in warning, but before the feeling can build, he pulls them out, and you're left empty and aching.
"Valko!" Tears sting your eyes and he licks them away.
"It's ok mouse. You're not ready yet. I'll knot you so good when you are." He licks and bites down your neck, leaving marks as his middle finger gathers moisture from your leaking hole and rubs it onto your clit.
"You'll hold me nice and snug when I do."
desire
synopsis. spending ebb day together as friends... will you still be friends afterwards?
pairing. rafayel qi x lemurian! non-mc! reader
content/mdni. A TON OF FUCKING. fem!reader, lemurian!reader, non-mc!reader, friends!au, friends-with-benefits!au, more level-headed!reader, dom-then-sub!reader, sub-then-dom!rafayel, needy!rafayel and reader, mean!rafayel, mean!reader, possessive!rafayel, slight dumbification, mention of masturbating (m solo), begging (m and f receiving), cunnilingus with MONSTER TONGUE, cow girl sex, doggy style sex, missionary sex, one cock sex, two cock sex, DOUBLE PENETRATION, OVIPOSITION, MONSTER FUCKING MONSTER, TON OF CUM, CUM PLAY, hair pulling, spanking, protected sex, raw sex, multiple rounds, allusions to anal sex, overstimulation, tummy bulge, teasing, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, partner/mate, good/sweet girl, whore, slut, cockslut, all the good stuff lmaoo), kissing!! SCENT KINK, HAND KINK, TON OF SWEAT, TW: BLOOD, marking, mentions of breeding, mentions of mating.
word count. 8.5k
a/n. prepare your panties! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
the first time it happened, it was an accident.
just two people hanging out, forgetting the current date. just two people, so absorbed by their newly founded human existence that they sidetracked their origins.
just two lemurians, friends since childhood, who, because of circumstances, were pulled together by raw desire to spend the changing of the currents as one.
the first time it happened, it was an accident. the other instances, however, were deliberate.
•••
you were standing in the fluorescent-lit purgatory of the 24/7 convenience store, a basket hanging from your elbow with an xl pack of condoms already inside.
“what else, what else…”
the air conditioning was too cold, raising goosebumps on your arms, brushing over the sprinkle of scales already adorning your skin. the cool air was combatting the warmth from the outside, but there was a deeper heat slowly coiling low in your belly, pulsing harder and harder, overtaking your very being quietly — a heat that couldn’t be tamed by the artificiality of the cooling device.
you’ve been feeling it for hours. the telltale thrum, the hypersensitivity of your skin, the way your gums ache faintly where your fangs wanted to push through.
ebb day is tomorrow. officially.
you still have a few hours to prepare.
your phone unexpectedly buzzed against your skin, a frantic, continuous tremor that has you fumbling for it. rafayel’s name light up the screen, a silly picture of him trembling together with the vibrations.
you swiped to answer, a teasing remark already on your lips.
“if you’re calling to back out–”
“please.” his voice cut you off, and it sounded wrong. it was not the smooth, sultry baritone he usually wielded like a weapon, articulating witty remarks at your expense. it was breathless, strained, cracking at the edges. “please, come over.”
you froze between aisles, your hand tightening on the phone. “rafayel?”
“i need you.” a low, fractured whine escaped him, and the needy sound went straight to your core, igniting the latent heat into a sudden, roaring blaze. “it’s… it’s early. it’s so early. i thought i had more time but it’s… i need you now.”
you could picture him too clearly.
at his seaside manor, in the vast, luxurious bedroom, with the curtains wide open, welcoming the full moon. rafayel, welcoming you, sprawled on his massive bed, his pale skin flushed and beaded with sweat, his hair a disheveled mess of purple.
you imagined him grasping his phone with a trembling hand, spotted with scales, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted in gasps.
fangs peeking through oh so beautifully.
“i’m at the store.” you said, your voice coming out rougher than you intended, your own state suddenly worsening due to rafayel’s intervention. “i’m getting the things. i’ll be there after checkout–”
“no.” he gasped immediately, and the desperation in his voice was loud, a hook that sunk into your chest and pulled you like a fish out of waters. “too long. ugh– i can’t– please. i can’t wait anymore. i feel like i’m burning up. we have everything here, so...”
“i need you. please, please, just ahhhh– come here.”
the plea was a whisper, broken and sweet, and that did it for you. you’ve always been weak for him. in this human form, in your true one, it didn’t matter; he had you wrapped around his pinky finger since you were children, even if he didn’t always know it.
“raf…”
you wanted to say something stubborn, to remind him that you were buying the very supplies he’ll be grateful for later, but another whimper came through the line, and your resolve crumbled to the ground.
“fine.” you heard yourself say, already turning and abandoning your basket on a shelf, condoms and all. “i’m coming right now. stay on the line.”
he let out a soft, relieved sound, and you could’ve sworn a sloshing noise accompanied his tune. “okay. f–fuck– okay.”
you left the store at a near-jog, the warm night air hitting your flushed cheeks.
the moon was almost up, a perfect, luminous circle in the sky, yet too bright, too full. it made your blood sing, your skin prickling with more and more clusters of scales.
you could still hear rafayel’s breathing on the other end of the line, quick and uneven, punctuated by tiny, swallowed sounds that he’s probably trying to hide.
that, and low, wet sounds — most likely his hand moving lazily up and down his stiff cock.
“tell me how you’re feeling.” you said as you slid into your car, your hand steady on the wheel even as everything inside you was starting to shake.
you have to keep your composure for just a little longer.
you also have to keep rafayel in check and make sure he doesn’t tip over.
“hot.” he breathed into the phone. “everything’s s–shit– too hot. my clothes… i took them off already. i’m just in the sheets. i nghnn– keep thinking about your hands.” his voice dropped, becoming that familiar, teasing cadence even through the haze of the heat.
“you have such nice hands. so soft– ngh– i keep thinking about them on ahh– me. groping me, pinning me down. do you think you can do that?”
your fingers tightened on the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening at his request. “rafayel.”
“i want you to.” he continued, his voice a low, needy murmur. the sticky sounds raised in intensity, no longer just background noise. “i need you so bad. i need you on top of me, baby.”
you pushed the accelerator harder, running a stop sign you didn’t even register. the streets blurred under your hazy vision, the city lights smearing into streaks of color. the heat inside you was building up with every word of his, with every little gasp and hitch of his breath.
rafayel was doing a phenomenal job at riling you up.
“what are you thinking about?” he asked all of a sudden, his voice a silken thread that woke you up. “are you thinking about me?”
“yes.” you admitted bluntly, the word torn from you without much effort.
“nhgh… t–tell me, baby.”
“the way you look when you’re between my thighs.” your voice was steady, booming from the speakers of his phone, but your hands were shuddering now. fingernails threatening to elongate into monstrously sharp claws. “the way you eat me out so good.”
he groaned, a breathless, shattered sound, and his hand sped up. the wetness staining his cock was palpable, the sound harsh yet delicate. “f–fuck yeah, i wanna taste your cunt so bad.”
a pause, then his voice murmured a confession once more. “i need to bury my face in you. i need to smell you. ahhhh– bet you’re drenched already, can almost s–sniff it from here.”
he was right. since the beginning of your conversation, the flimsy material of your panties was nothing but sticky. each and every request of his, delving into his nastiest wishes, generated more gooey arousal, effectively coating your panties in a generous amount of slick.
it also did not help that you were a lemurian, normally producing more slick than a mere human.
thankfully, you were pulling through the gates of his estate, the tires of your car crunching on the gravel driveway. you didn’t even bother parking properly — just killed the engine and eft the car where it stopped.
“i’m here.” you said into the phone, your legs carrying you up the front steps without waiting for another invite.
you swung the door open without a second thought.
rafayel was standing at the end of the hallway, and the sight of him made your clit throb.
he was fully naked, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his hair plastered to his temples. his chest was heaving, his pupils so dilated that his irises were reduced to thin rings of purple. but it was the scales that caught your attention — a scattering of iridescent, pearl-white scales along his cheekbones, down his neck, across his shoulders.
painting his skin, lower and lower.
going beyond the base of his aching cock.
the scales shimmered in the moonlight, catching the light like tiny mirrors.
“baby!” his eyes found yours, and he smiled — a beautiful, unhinged grin, all sharp teeth and raw need. “you came.” he breathed, relieved, taking wobbly steps towards you.
he was deeply affected by the rising full moon, hands jumping away from his sides and searching for support onto the walls.
you were soon to be deeply affected as well as your nostrils inhaled the pheromones dominating the entire mansion: the smell was terrifically strong, a pungent odor that lulled you towards primal desires. you almost stumbled backward from the powerful aroma, palm shooting up and covering the bottom half of your face in an attempt to protect your senses.
“f–fuck, the smell…”
you needed to remain levelheaded.
you needed to remain the rational one, since rafayel was clearly indulging fully in the effects of the moon.
but it was hard. you could already feel your fans poking through your gums, could already sense the tremble in your body as rafayel caught up to you.
your entire being was calling for him, just like his own called for you.
his quivering hands clawed at your dress, pulling you fully inside, the door slamming shut behind you two and effectively trapping you in his den. taking advantage of the defensive stance you took, he manhandled you against the closest wall, caging you perfectly, his body a line of burning heat against yours.
“ah, ah, ah, you…” his face instantly found your neck, burying itself in the seductive dip between your throat and shoulder. and, with a loud whiff, rafayel inhaled your own tumbling pheromones. “ahhh– smell so fucking good.”
he did not stop at that, nuzzling further into your skin, dragging the tip of his nose up towards your pulse point, punctuating the spot right behind your ear. with that, he managed to caress a patch of sensitive scales, eliciting a moan out of your hidden lips, forcing your palm to abandon its post to tangle in his messy locks.
“baby, please, pull ugh– my hair, please.” he started to beg as he felt your fingers latch onto the roots of his hair, body curving into yours more and more.
his legs snuck their way between your own, parting your thighs and allowing his knee to dip into the material of your dress and make contact with your clothed pussy. his arms flew away too, finally taking hold of your torso and putting you into a needy embrace.
“raf, i–”
your voice echoed in his ears, blessing him with the delicious shudder of your tone. but something was wrong, he slowly realized between his hazy thoughts — you have yet to make your move, you have yet to show the same neediness he has been carrying for hours.
“i–is something wrong? no, please, baby…”
he removed his face from your neck, abandoning his mission to devour your scent gland in favor of discovering what was holding you back. a strong feeling of anxiety shook his entire body, and memories of abandonment flashed between his obscene fantasies.
changing the atmosphere entirely.
“go on, raf, it’s okay–”
“n–no.”
you couldn’t resist him, especially not now.
he decided to perch his head on your chest, entire body slouched over your own, and look up at you with his lust-filled orbits. the pout on his lips was dangerous, accessorized by his long and sharp fangs. his legs were now practically glued to yours… and you could feel his heavy cock pressing against your thigh.
“do you not want me, baby?”
oh, he was gonna be the death of you.
“raf, someone h–ngh–as to be rational, i can’t give into pleas–”
“we will be careful, like always…” he cut you off enthusiastically, tightening his hold on your midriff to block any kind of escape. worse, he dipped his face lower into your chest, pressing right against your exposed sternum… and sticking his tongue out to taste your sweaty skin.
“rafayel.” you warned through gritted teeth, gripping the base of his scalp and pulling his head back. but he was ready for such an action, simply letting out more length of his monstrous tongue and continuing his perverse ministration across the peaks of your breasts.
“i k–know what will help!” he chirped between licks, and the sensation of his rough, elongated tongue tracing the delicate flesh of your chest made your resolve shake.
you tried to hold firm, to remember the reasons why someone needed to stay level-headed, but he was a master of persuasion: his hands, which had been so needy and clammy, slid down your hips with a slow, teasing pace. and he stopped when he reached the fabric of your short skirt, fingers twitching at the hem.
“just a taste.” he whispered, long tongue retracting from your skin to wet his lips. “i ugh– to taste your pussy, baby. please.”
his voice was a raspy, desperate plea, and the sight of his body — the way he pressed himself against you, precum wetting the ends of your dress — broke something in you. you were supposed to be the rational one, but the pheromones were a thick haze in your lungs, intoxicating your very being.
your own body betrayed you, the ache between your thighs becoming a pulsing, insistent throb. your firm grip on his hair lessened, hand guiding his head unconsciously down your body, moving him in line with your center.
“ah– j–just a bit...” you breathed, your voice shaking now. “but then we m–”
move to the bedroom — he didn’t let you finish.
a submissive, relieved groan escaped him, and he was already sliding down your body. his bare knees hit the floor with a sharp thud, but he didn’t flinch. you tried to steady yourself, but rafayel had other plans — hiking your right leg up his shoulder, spreading you wide open for him. and you were taken by surprise, fingers curling and pushing his head around from the sudden movement.
“f–fuck yeah.”
he let out a sharp, encouraging moan against your exposed thigh, and you felt his lips press a wet kiss on the newly exposed patch of skin of your knee.
his hands shoot up, scattering the hem of your dress. he pushed the material up around your waist, silently prompting you to hold it down and away from him. the cool air of the hallway licked at your exposed thighs, prickling at your scale-scattered skin.
his gaze dropped, and he stared at the sight before him, cock twitching between his bent legs. the wet spot on your panties was dark and obscene, the cotton perfectly clinging to the shape of your pussy. you were absolutely soaked through, arousal escaping the comfort of your underwear in order to stain your inner thighs.
the rims around his blown-out pupils turned a bright blue, and a devouring hunger flashed across his features.
“oh, my baby.” he breathed, the words almost a whimper. “you’re s–so wet for me. i bet it h–hurts so much.”
he didn’t wait for an actual answer as he leaned forward to thoroughly inspect you. his nose pressed into the damp fabric, and he inhaled deeply, a tremble running through his body as he feasted on your scent. he nuzzled against the soaked cotton, his sharp fangs grazing your sensitive flesh through the thin barrier, and your knees nearly buckled.
your hand forced his head deeper instead of pulling it away, a silent surrender to the powers of the moon.
he took the signal with a groan of satisfaction. his tongue snaked out, long and monstrous, and he dragged the wide, flat of it across the dark spot. he licked slowly, savoring you through the fabric, his eyes rolling back from the aroma.
“you ahh– s’ good.” he mumbled against the fabric, his voice muffled by the fabric and his groans.
but he needed more than just soaked panties. so, with a swipe of his tongue, he wrapped the length twice around the gusset of your panties, tugging the material downwards. you felt the wet cotton drag along your sensitive flesh as it was removed, exposing your cunt entirely to his burning gaze.
“r–raf, please.”
he saw everything: your wet, swollen flesh glistened in the dim light, your clit engorged and peeking out from its hood. a fresh glob of your arousal slid down your inner thigh, and his adam’s apple bobbed at the bodily reaction.
“babyyy…” his breathing hitched, and he slowed down, his entire being focused on the sight and scent of you. “look at you.” he muttered, his voice heavy by lust. “so beautiful, so mesmerizing.”
and before you could form a response, he dived in. his lips glued onto you, and his tongue — still a long, monstruous muscle — latched onto your entire cunt. he licked a wide, flat stroke from your oozing entrance to your pulsing clit, and the feeling of his wet mouth against your slick flesh made you whine.
he did it again, and again, building a rhythm that was ruining you from the inside out. he was starved, licking and sucking and slurping you like an intoxicated man who knew no other flavour.
“rafayel, r–fa–yel!”
you threw your head back, the wall cold against your skull, as you fought for composure. but it was a losing battle: his mouth was too skilled, too curious to discover your pussy. he found every sensitive nerve with the tip of his tongue, swirling around your clit until you were seeing stars, then dropping down to probe at your entrance.
licking up the streams of your juices like they were the only source of water in the world.
you made the mistake of looking down at him. he was on his knees before you, his body trembling with the effort of restraint and desire. his eyes were heavy-lidded, focused solely on his task, and his gills —delicate, slit-like openings on his neck — fluttered slightly as he breathed through them, allowing him to remain glued to you without a pause for air.
he was relentless, dedicated.
he needed you to tip over into your animalistic side.
“i– oh, fuck–”
your voice cracked and morphed into a high, unhinged moan as he circled his tongue around your clit, wrapping it tightly with its length while he sucked the bundle of nerves with his lips. the tip of his tongue dipped lower treacherously, pushing against your greedy hole and effectively overflowing your mushy brain with pleasure.
your hips jerked forward of their own accord, and you felt your fingers drag through his hair, pulling him even tighter against you, demanding more even as you were overwhelmed.
“hmhmm– ngh–” he moaned into you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pelvis.
his hands slid up your thighs, thumbs spreading your lips wider, giving him unrestricted access to every inch of your center. he worked on you with a desperate, submissive fervor, eating you out as if his existence depended on your pleasure.
and it was working. the feeling built and built in your tummy, a coil of heat tightened and tightened with every flick of his tongue.
“al’st.” he gasped, pulling away just enough to see the defeat in your eyes. his lips and chin were shining with your wetness, his sharp teeth shimmering as he smiled at you. “cum in my mouth, please.”
your resolve had shattered the moment his mouth had made contact. so you just nodded frantically, a sobbing whine escaping your lips, and he leaped at the signal. his mouth descended again with renewed vigor, long tongue focusing on your engorged bud. he sucked hard, creating a devastating pressure, while he simultaneously probed the back of his tongue against your entrance, massaging the contracting muscles.
“ah, i’m–”
you came with a cry that echoed down the empty hallway, your body arching off the wall as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through you. your hand forced his face deeper into you, and he drank everything, his moans of ecstasy vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he swallowed your release.
and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, easing you through the shaking aftermath, his eyes locked on your trembling form with a satisfied, devouring gleam.
“ah, a–ah, ah.”
when you finally opened your eyes, you had a good look at his needy, disheveled face, still resting between your thighs. his lips and chin were slick with you, his long tongue still lazily licking at your flesh as if he couldn’t bear to lose the taste. his gills fluttered rapidly, and he smiled up at you — temporary satiated by your pussy.
… or so you thought.
“g–go again?” he pleaded, his voice high-pitched and weak. “please, please, please, ple–”
and you knew why he was begging so arduously: gazing downwards at the floor, you soon realized that he also spilled his release, most likely pushed over the edge by your own orgasm. the floorboards were covered in a thick layer of cum, white and sticky substance staining his thigh and your own resting foot.
“please, baby, one more time– i love your pussy, i–”
you were still trembling from your own climax, chest heaving, gills fluttering on the sides of your neck. but something in his desperate, submissive tone made you sit up straighter, an ounce of rationality still guiding you. yeah, you felt the wetness between your thighs, the echo of his tongue still a pulsing memory, but you knew that you were far from satiated.
the moon’s pull was still in your bones, and his pheromones were a thick haze in the air.
you reached down, took a handful of his wet hair, and pulled his face away from your cunt. the slick was thick, mixed with his saliva, and it created a strong, sticky bridge between his lips and your nether ones.
“m–move…” you commanded, your voice coming out fragmented, tainted by your orgasm and the heat. “bedroom, now.”
his eyes flashed with relief, and he nodded so quickly that his locks flipped against his temples. “yes– yes, baby, anything.” with obedient, trembling hands, he pushed himself up from his knees, his muscular thighs quivering as he rose. he was still weeping, his cock stiff and red, the tip glistening with his own release.
but he made no move to wipe it away, fixated on obtaining you.
before you could step forward, he enveloped you in his arms, both hands sliding under your knees and lifting you as if you were made of feathers. your legs latched around his hips on instinct, your dress riding up to your waist, your naked slick pussy pressing against his abs. he took off with long, hurried steps, his legs no longer staggering.
“c’mere.”
his mouth was on yours before you could process his words.
“so ngh– good t’ me.” he mumbled against your lips, his tongue sharing your aroma. “so beautiful, so perfect– i’m ugh– not deserving.” he kissed you with a wide, open mouth, his sharp fangs grazing your lower lip as he pushed your dress higher with each push.
his words were a stream of subservient praises — celebrating your benevolence in assisting him with his heat — as he carried you through the living room and into the wide, disheveled bedroom. and his mouth never stopped; he fully slurped at your lips, devouring your mouth with the same fervor he ate your pussy.
he loved to caress your fangs with his tongue, grunting between lick as you were finally showing signs of turning.
“ah, ah…”
when he reached the giant bed, he turned and sat down on it, his back leaning against the headboard with a soft thud. he kept you on his lap, your knees straddling his hips, your soaked cunt hovering just above his twitching, dripping cock. his hands were instantly on your body tugging away at the dress, removing it from your body and letting your scale-splotched skin to bask in the full moon.
his sharp digits took a hold of your full hips, nails digging into the soft flesh as he tried to lower your body onto his.
“please, baby.” he breathed, his hips rolling upwards on instinct, his bare cock sliding against your wet slit. “i need to feel you around me– please, i fuck–”
you reached around, your hand finding the nightstand and its drawer, your fingers closing around a square packet. as you were retrieving it, his hands worked all over you, groping your waist, your tits, your thighs with a restless, ravenous need. his cock was jumping against your thigh with each squish of your body, impatient to ease into you.
“let m–me help.” he whispered as he saw you struggle. but you shook your head, at last ripping the packet open with your fangs.
the image made him groan — he loved when you used those fangs.
he wished you’d use them on him.
as you rolled the condom down his length with steady hand, your palm gliding over the latex as you smoothed it down the veiny cock, he gasped, his head throwing back against the headboard, his hips pushing up into your fist.
“fuck– baby, your hand, it’s ngh– so good, i’m gonna–” his words devolved into a strangled moan as you gave him a last, twisting stroke at the base, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from cumming right then.
his gills fluttered rapidly, and his hands clawed at the sheets, his white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping him grounded.
you left him hanging on the edge for a sweet moment, your eyes locked on his trembling stomach and the way his scales shimmered harder. then, with a slow movement, you raised yourself up on your knees, aligned the tip of his cock with your soaked entrance, and slowly began to sink down.
the sensation was electric. his length slid inside you in a smooth, velvety thrust, the latex making it easy but no less intense. you felt him stretch you, push past your greedy muscles that spasmed around him, and you gasped at the fullness. he moaned your name, vibrating against your chest as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder.
“so fucking tight– so wet–.”
“ah, raf, that’s mhm–”
you took a moment to adjust, to feel him settle deep inside you, to take in the way his tip was kissing your cervix. then you began to move — slow rolls of your hips, lifting and sinking, pulling him out until only the tip remained, then sliding back down to the hilt. your clit slapped deliciously against his muscles, and so did his heavy balls against your behind.
his hands flew to your hips again, guiding you, but he never tried to take control; he merely held you, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of your hips with reverence.
“yes, that’s ngh– it, use me.” he implored, his voice breaking into high whinse as you picked up the pace. you rolled your hips in a figure eight, harshly grinding against him at the bottom, and his lips parted on a silent scream. “oh, oh fuck, right there, please, baby–”
you leaned forward, lips bitten, your palms braced against his chest, and you rode him with a ferocious need. every stroke was accompanied by his gasps, the sharp, slutty breaths strung together with your own traitorous ones into a rhythmic chant.
“so good, so good, i’m– please, please, let me cum inside, i beg you–”
his words were slurred, mind so thick with lust he forgot he had a condom on. but he was attentive to you, never taking his eyes off your bouncing body. when you sped up, your thighs burning with the effort, your clit brushing against his pubic bone with every downward thrust, his head lolled to the side in pleasure.
the sensation was heaven for you too: the way his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, vein pulsing just the right way against your walls, the way his hands trembled as they held you, the way his moans sounded like prayers…
“cum for me.” you allowed, your voice raspy and commanding, and that was all he needed.
with a broken whine, he threw his head back, his spine arching off the headboard as he spilled into the condom, his hips jerking up into you with ragged, uncontrollable spasms. his mouth opened in a silent shout and his hands clawed so hard into your hips you knew they would leave bruises.
the sight of him cumming, his face stretched in ecstasy, pushed you over the edge. you rode him through it all, your second climax building and building until it broke. your inner muscles clenching around him as you shuddered through your release.
he whimpered into the air like a mantra: “thank you, thank you, thank you–”.
after a few more seconds, you finally slowed down. with your gills working overtime, your body washed in sparkling sweat, you remained motionless, straddled over him. his aching cock was still inside you, spent once more that night.
but ebb day had just commenced, and a mere fuck was not the solution.
you were still trembling, his overstimulated cock still twitching inside you, when he shifted his hips upwards — a lazy, circular rock which sent a sharp spark through your oversensitive flesh. you whimpered, a needy tune that you hadn’t intended to let out; the sudden trust took you by surprise, hitting your walls in a way that made your whole being shiver.
he did it again, this time with a sharper thrust, his strong hands pushing you down into his cock, and your palms flattened against his chest in a vain attempt to put some distance between the two of you.
“raf– wait, slow d–ah–own a bit.” you gasped, your voice cracking, the overstimulation short circuiting your brain. “i need a second–”
his laugh was low and mean, a strong contrast to the high-pitched moans he freely let out a few minutes ago.
“slow down? why? you’re still aching for more.” his hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs with a brutal firmness. his expression was no longer kind and pliant, the barely-there purple of his orbs changing into a blinding sapphire color.
he tutted at your scrunching face, digging his fingers harder into your skin and dragging you forth against his chest. “no, no, baby. i don’t like that.”
“raf?”
“you’re not gonna fight what you are. you’re a lemurian in heat, just like me… giving in is not a choice.”
before you could respond, he twisted out of you with a squelching, wet pop and shoved you forward onto the sheets. you tumbled onto the mattress, hands and knees catching you as he positioned you around like a puppet. his palm pressed the small of your back, forcing your spine into a beautiful arch, your face pressed into the pillows.
it happened in a blink of an eye, your body going pliant and obeying the desires of the man behind you. you could no longer see him, with your head buried in his cushions, but you could hear the shift of his weight as he knelt behind you, the heat of his body washing over your exposed skin.
shit, he was taking a dominant stance now — the predator inside him most likely no longer pleased by your ‘controlled’ approach to ebb day.
but you had to stay strong. you had to stop him from fulfilling the mating ritual since you were not his beloved. you had to–
“look at you.” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension, blue eyes taking in the sight before him: you, face down, ass up, supple flesh drenched and quivering with arousal. “so fucking wet… and you still have the nerve to tell me to slow down. pathetic.”
his fingers traced down your curved spine, pausing at the swell of your ass. then down to your used hole. with delicate fingers, he touched the gaping rim of the condom still lodged inside you, dragging it slightly out of you. you flinched, back arching even more, hips pushing into his touch unconsciously.
“a condom too… ruining all the fun.” he clicked his tongue, low and mean, but chose to abandon the rubber for now. he decided to reach around to find your clit, his skilled thumb pressing against it with just enough pressure to make you tremble into the sheets.
“you think you’re in charge, hm? you’re nothing but a slutty little whore who needs to be reminded of her place.”
he circled his thumb over your swollen bud, slow and torturous, while his other hand kept you pinned down. you whined, your hips pushing back instinctively, seeking more friction, but he was having none of it: he smacked your ass hard, the sharp slap echoing in the room as it landed on your flesh.
“don’t you dare act on your urges now. you’ll get what i give you, when i give it.” he warned as he increased the pressure on your clit, his movements forming teasing figure eights. you writhed against the sheets, tried to push back and speed him up, but his hand on your spine kept you arched and immobile.
“p–please.” you whined, your voice pitching high, now mirroring the state he was previously in— flushed face, dilated pupils, consumed by the urge to be used. “raf, i need–”
“you need to shut up and take what’s given.” he cut you off, his tone cold and superior. he removed his thumb without warning, and you whimpered in loss, eyes bubbling with tears from his cruelness. “see? that’s what you get for being impatient. now be a good girl and wait.”
wait?
for what?
he reached down, fingers curling around the rim of the condom still inside you. with a slow, torturous pull, he removed it. the sensation of the latex sliding out making you shiver, hole gaping in dissatisfaction. your cunt was practically begging for the rubber to return, for something to be inside it once more.
“greedy pussy.”
he pinched the tip of the condom, dangling it above your stinging flesh, and, with his thumb and index finger, he pressed and dragged out... letting the thick, white semen spill all across your ass. throwing the empty rubber away, he then smeared his cum over your cheeks with a rough, possessive stroke, making sure to dip his fingers over your asshole and the perineum.
the warm, sticky sensation made you cry out, and he laughed again.
“you like that, don’t you? being marked with my cum?” he rubbed the cum lower, into your slit, working it into your wet folds until you were dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his seed. “you were so dumb for putting on the condom.”
and with that vitriolic remark, he positioned himself behind you once more, the mushroom head of his engorged cock prodding at your slutty entrance. he rubbed it up and down, teasing the flesh without pushing in, controlling his urge to breed you for the sake of hearing you beg.
and you began to sob, pleas leaving your bitten lips with ease.
“p–please, raf, just fuck me, i need it so bad, please–”
“aww, look at you now — beg harder.” he purred, his tip still tracing slow circles over your hungry hole.
“please! please, rafayel, i beg you, just put it in, i’ll be good, just fuck me–”
“there it is.” he smirked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “but oh, i’m sorry, baby– i think we’re out of condoms. what a shame.” his tone was condescending, and he rolled his hips just enough to press the head inside.
before pulling back. “i can’t–”
“i don’t care.” you babbled, your mind now a blur of heat and hunger. your previous carefulness was entirely wiped by your animalistic desire to be mounted and taken by rafayel. “j–just do it, fuck me raw! i need your ugh– cock inside me, please, raf–”
“finally.”
without other comments, he thrusted in one sharp, brutal motion. you screamed, but not in pain — the overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled without any barrier felt heavenly. his hard cock, littered with scales, plowed into your soaked cunt until his hips smacked against your ass, his balls swaying against your swollen clit.
“yes.” he groaned, his voice now raspy with his own need. “this is where you belong: spread open for me, taking my cock like the cockslut that you are.” he pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, the squelch of your juices and his cum making a loud, obscene sound.
“fuck, you’re so warm, so wet, so fucking good.”
he set a ferocious pace, his hips jutting into you with the starved intensity of an animal in rut. each thrust hit that spot inside you, making your spine curve into him more and more. and you were kept in that deep arch by his strong arms, your voice reduced to a stream of moans and whines as it got drowned out by the pillows.
“ngh– baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” he grunted, his hand snaking forward to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back. “greedy girl, sucking me ah– so hard.”
“tell me you’re mine. tell me this is what you wanted.”
“‘m y’rs.” you gasped, the words tumbling out in stutters as you squeezed around his rugged scales. “gods, yes, fuck me harder, please–”
he released your hair with a satisfied moan and doubled his efforts, his strokes becoming messy and unhinged. he was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock throbbing against your walls, the tip kissing your cervix with every slam. his length seemed to grow inside you, expanding and stretching your sensitive walls in all dimensions.
you were completely affected by ebb day now, your pleasure so strong you could no longer separate where your being ended and his began.
but the night has just begun, and so did rafayel.
you felt it before you saw it: a second pressure, a new sensation against the flesh of your ass. another cock, thicker and more brutal in its proportions, had emerged from the base of his first and sprung upwards, settling directly between the sweaty valley of your cheeks.
it was a monstrous thing, wet with its own pre-cum, rocking against your asshole in tune with his other cock.
“is that– ugh–”
with every slam of his hips into your soaked cunt, this second cock rubbed relentlessly against your tight, untouched asshole. the friction was addicting, a blunt force that glided over the twitching rim of your second hole with every forward push.
you could feel the ridges of it, the scales that dragged across your delicate skin, and it made your eyes roll back from the pleasure.
“you feel that, baby?” he grunted into your ear, his voice a condescending purr. “my other cock, itching to breed that pussy too. you’re so fucking soaked, i am sure it will ngh– slip right in.”
you couldn’t respond. you were beyond speech, your face buried in the sheets, your voice reduced to a high, siren-like whine that filled the room.
the way his second cock humped against your asshole, the way his first cock was still plunging into your cunt — it was a sensory overload that threatened to spill all over. you clenched around him, trying to drag him deeper, and he groaned, leaning over your arched body.
“can’t even fuckin’ answer me.” he snarled, his pace slowing for a moment as he leaned down, lowering his sweaty chest against your back.
his sharp mouth found the juncture of your neck and shoulder, your pulse point, and he opened his jaw wide. his fangs grazed your flesh, a heated, demanding pressure falling over your skin.
he was…
“you want this so badly, don’t you? you want me to claim every hole.”
going to bite. he was going to mark you as his mate.
panic lashed through the fog of your lust. you were not lovers: you had agreed to this arrangement solely to protect his future beloved from the primality of the lemurian heat. so your arm shot up before you could think it over, your forearm wedging itself between his lips and your neck just as his jaws clamped down.
“ah.”
his fangs sink into your flesh with a wet, ripping sound. the pain was sharp and immediate, a burning sensation that made you scream into the pillows. you felt the hot trickle of blood cascade down your arm, and he let out a surprised, muffled groan around your limb.
his cock slid out of you during the chaos, leaving you suddenly empty and weak.
“n–no!” you cried, your voice a shaky mess of pleasure and desperation. “not that! rafayel, we aren’t– we’re not lovers! you can’t mark me like this. you have to save yourself for your chosen one, you know that.”
he froze — he stayed still, his fangs still embedded in your forearm, his breath hot against the wound. then, slowly, he released you. his jaw unclamped, and he licked the blood from his lips with a slow, seductive swipe of his tongue. but his eyes had changed. the lust was still there, but now it was underlaid with something far more dangerous: a cold, rageful possessiveness.
“you dare...” he said, his voice dropping to a level of condescending fury that made you shiver. “you dare tell me who to save myself for? you dare speak of a ‘chosen one’ when you’re the only one who has ever made me feel this?”
before you could respond, he moved with unnatural speed. his hands gripped your hips and with a brutal twist, he flipped you over like you were no more than a rag doll. you landed on your back, the sheets cold and damp against your sweaty skin. he was on top of you in an instant, his legs knocking yours apart as he settled his weight between your thighs.
his first cock pressed against your soaked entrance, and his second one rested heavily against your clit, both of them drenched in bodily fluids.
“you foolish woman.” he snarled, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. his eyes were gleaming blue, his scales catching the light like the facets of a gem. “there is no other chosen one. there is only you. you’re the one i want. you’re the one my body and my soul demands.”
“r–raf?”
“and i will not be denied.”
he thrusted forward, sheathing his bottom cock inside you in one single, devastating move. you were so wet, so inviting; there was no resistance, only a lewd, obscene squelch as your fluids started to froth at the juncture between your bodies.
you whined out a broken approval, and he groaned in triumph above you.
“that’s right.” he confirmed, rolling his hips harder and harder to pick up his previous pace. “your body knows the truth, even if your mouth lies. you’re mine.” he began to pump into you, his strokes sharp and possessive as he, once more, descended closer to your face.
“you can beg all you want for a different fate, but you will never escape this. you will never escape me.”
and with that, he sealed his lips over yours.
your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded you into the mattress. your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper, traitorously consenting to his declaration even as your mind spun with lust. he leaned forward more and more, trapping you under his massive frame, and he kissed you brutally, tangling his long tongue with your and forcing you to taste your own blood.
“say it out loud.” he demanded against your mouth, his pace never faltering, his mouth carefully traversing lower to your pulse point again. “say you’re mine. say it and i will fully take you, my mate.”
“i’m yours!” you wailed, the words torn from your very soul as his fangs scratched your skin in warning. “i’m yours, rafayel! please, just don’t stop, don’t you dare stop–”
a prideful, predatory grin spread across his features. he slowed his pace as his jaw opened once more, trying to time his movements to offer you the most intense pleasure. pulling out almost all the way, his tip snagging onto your hole, he stuck out his tongue to wet your skin as his hand lowered to his cocks… pressing his second length snug to his other and preparing it for penetration.
“ngh– raf– ah–”
as he plunged his fangs into your neck, finally marking you as his mate by drawing blood, he also rutted both cocks into your hungry cunt. the immense quantities of arousal lubed everything, allowing his two dicks to press deep into your without much difficulty.
and his timing was perfect, getting you to orgasm with a perfect o on your lips as he rocked your whole world.
“that’s right.” he purred, moving his head to nuzzle at the bloody bite on your skin, licking the wound with soft strokes of his tongue. “you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”
and as he spoke, he picked up his pace once more, the slap of his balls against your skin filling the room, his resolve renewed. you were cushioned beneath him, a trembling mess, a willing partner to desire, and as he watched you fall apart beneath him — your eyes rolling back, your moans a constant chant — he too was pushed over the edge once more.
unlike last time, his thrusts stumbled into a rhythm that was clumsy but deep, as if he refusing to let go of you. unlike last time, you felt a swelling at your entrance, the way his top cock, the one that had been pressing against your clit moments ago, now grew in thickness.
the sensation was overwhelming. your walls were stretched further, and you could feel his cocks throbbing deep inside, ready to spill.
“breed.” he groaned against your neck, lips bloody, voice raspy. “let me fill you. let me breed your sweet cunt.”
and he did.
his top cock began to inflate at the base, the tissue swelling into a something that locked him deep within you. you whimpered in pleasure as the first shiny, pearl-white ovoid passed through his urethra and into your hole —a smooth, rounded glob that stretched you to the fullest before it settled inside you.
then another, and another, and another. each one leaving a trail of warmth as it popped through his cock and deposited itself in deep inside you. his hands stopped flat against your stomach, to keep you from moving away, and he felt the bulge begin to rise.
the eggs were gathering together with his thick cum.
“yes, yes.” he murmured, his tone a mix of wonder and satisfaction, eyes glassy with lust. “so many eggs already. and there’s more for you.”
he kept pumping, each thrust squeezing another round egg into you, and with it came wave upon wave of thick, pearlescent cum that filled every remaining crevice. your tummy bulged more and more, the skin stretching tight until you could feel the weight of his eggs sinking low inside you. you were so full that you couldn’t tell what was cum and what was ovoid; you only knew that he was still pumping, still depositing, still claiming.
“r–rafayel, i w–will ugh– i can’t hold– nngh!”
your protests were swallowed by another orgasm as he rutted his final drops into you, the bottom cock twitching inside you as it added its own thick semen to the swelling pool. your tummy was now a pronounced curve, the skin taut and shiny, and you could feel each individual egg pressing against the walls of your tummy.
“yes.”
finally, he stilled, his body shaking with the last spasms of release. he remained inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and hot against your sweaty skin. then, with a small whine, he pulled out: first the bottom cock, then the top one, releasing the lock on your pussy. you felt a gush of warm cream follow him, and when you looked down, you saw the mess he had made of you.
your pussy was ruined, swollen, hole gaping as thick, white cum started to drool out in hefty treads, pooling on the sheets beneath you.
he moved down your body, his hands sliding over your blooming skin until they rested on your swollen belly. he pressed gently, and you felt the first egg pop out with an obscene sound. the smooth, pearly ovoid rolled out onto the sheet, shining with your combined juices. then another, and another, each one escaping as he pressed firmer, each one making you whine from overstimulation.
your tummy slowly deflated, but not all the eggs were out yet — you could still feel a few resting high inside, near your cervix.
“shh, i’ve got you.” he said, his voice suddenly soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the brutality from moments ago. he shifted his hand from your belly to your swollen clit, his fingers gliding through the wetness with good intent.
“you’re doing so well, baby. let me help the rest out.”
he began to rub circles around your hyper-sensitive bud, while his other hand pressed firmly on the top part of your pelvis. the overstimulation made you sob out, but his sweet expression (his soft, purple orbs, the blush on his face, the cute smile on his lips) kept you grounded.
“that’s it, sweet girl, let them out. you’re so brave for taking all of that. now just one more– yes, there it is.”
with a particularly deep press of his palm and a swirl of his thumb, the last egg got out with a sultry plop, rolling to join its siblings on the sheet. your body shuddered violently, another spasm of climax racing through you, but he never stopped the gentle ministrations of his hand.
he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your belly, his lips tracing your skin as you orgasm again into his palm.
“such a good girl.” he whispered against your skin, his tone full of adoration and gratitude. “you took everything so perfectly, my partner.” he lifted his head to look into your hazy eyes, and there was nothing but contentment in his gaze. “let’s rest for a bit.”
at last, he removed himself from between your legs, allowing you a moment of respite as he lounged next to you on the bed. cradling your spent form into a delicate side embrace, he guided your head onto his chest, petting your wet hair away from your face.
“my sweet baby.”
©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @gardenialily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @thealunari, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @thealunari, @maplewood-valley, @massivebanananut, @livanavier, @rafayearning4eternity. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
Actionable Ideas for Challenging Infold Over Valko's Release
A lot of LADS fans are really upset over Infold's decision to shelve Valko. This is my attempt at creating action items for fans wanting to do something but are unsure where to start.
Here are some methods for giving Infold feedback:
Sign this petition and this petition
Reply to their posts on X (Twitter)
Comment on their Instagram posts
Comment on their Facebook posts
Comment on their YouTube videos
Join their official Discord Server and voice your dissatisfaction
Leave a 1-star review on the Apple App Store or the Google Play Store
Email Customer Service at [email protected]
Complete the survey in the Love and Deepspace app by selecting the box/pencil icon in the top right corner of the home screen
"Suggest" Valko's release in the Love and Deepspace app by going to Settings > More > Support, then select "Suggestion"
(If you want to be slightly passive-aggressive) On 9 July, go to Settings > More > Support, then select "Bug Report" and fill out the report stating that the promised Valko content is missing
Remember: if we want Infold to listen to us, we MUST remain civil and demonstrate our affection for the game. I highly doubt they will be intimidated by non-CN players, which means we are held to a different standard. What is effective for them will not be effective for us.
With that said, remember these do's and dont's:
Do repeatedly submit/post/send your feedback over the next few weeks. Email them today, in a few days, on 9 July, and in the weeks after. Post on their social media every day. Overwhelm them and show them this isn't going to go away over a few free Wishes.
Do prepare to CONTINUE submitting/posting/sending your feedback over the next few months. Infold needs to see that we won't let this issue go. Schedule emails to be sent to them over the next 3 months. Draft X posts today and copy and paste them to post in a few months time. Draft your long-form in-app feedback in preperation for the update and the upcoming banners. Create reminders to check and comment on their posts weekly. Don't let them get comfortable. Be a dog with a bone (lol).
Do maintain a polite tone in your feedback (even when you are issuing a threat like leaving the game).
Do specify your current disappointments, long-term criticisms, and expectations for the future of the game should you continue to play.
Do clearly isolate your long-term issues with the game from the current issue of Valko's release. Make it clear that those issues are not resolved by delaying or permanently canceling Valko's debut.
Do talk positively about whatever you can (ie. enjoying other LIs, enjoying the content of the Main Story itself, appreciating the worldbuilding, etc). This may feel difficult, but it demonstrates that you are a passionate player. Infold can assume that a player so invested in the game would need something drastic to push them to leave.
Don't use profanity.
Don't reference CN players.
Don't bring up Infold's past mistakes. We need to stay focused on the current issues.
Don't criticize anything about Valko's teased content. This one may be unpopular, I know. If Infold is pulling back Valko's release, I don't think it's likely that they will be willing to invest any more time and money into his development. If they continue to get more and more criticisms about him and don't care to change anything about him, they will never release him. I'm not minimizing any fan's concerns; I'm suggesting we choose a priority.
If you are unsure where to start, here are some talking points:
Express your excitement over Valko (bonus points if you give reasons why). Did you come back from a long hiatus for him?
Express your disappointment over not having Valko in the game. How will it impact your enjoyment of the game?
Describe how you prepared for his anticipated arrival. • In-game (farm for dias, bought packs, etc) • On your devices (created storage space, bought a new device, etc) • Financially (budgeted for buying packs upon his release, etc)
Describe how you engaged in fandom around Valko. Did you create fanart, fanfiction, or other fanworks? How much were you consuming fanworks showcasing him? Demonstrating how beloved he was before any real content of his being released indicates a warm reception if/when he is released.
What are the current issues you experience with the game? Be specific. Describe exactly how they impact your gameplay. Suggest a concrete way those issues could be resolved. Assert that Valko's release being postponed or canceled will not resolve these issues.
Express concern for the changes to their planned story arc his absence would create. Question if those changes would be as enjoyable as their original plan.
(If you're feeling up to it) Acknowledge the amount of time, effort, and money that must have gone into creating Valko. Let them know it would disappoint you to see it go to waste.
Infold made a terrible decision. We need to take action and let Infold know that a large portion of the LADS fanbase wants Valko to be released at some point. Let's try to remain positive where we can, engage in positive fandom, and do our best to make our voices heard by Infold.
📜 Bhāvāchākrā: The Foundational Lore
Many folks unfamiliar with Asian mythologies have expressed confusion regarding the addition of another LI. Truth be told, the existence of 6 LIs was part of the narrative’s design from the very beginning. This is because the story’s foundational lore is deeply rooted in Vedic and Buddhist traditions. And numerous elements of it’s worldbuilding, symbolisms, and structure draw inspiration from these scriptural and philosophical sources.
“Love And Deepspace” is a story about the perpetual cycle of संसार (Saṃsāra). As the MC, we are trapped within the cycle of never-ending suffering across countless lifetimes and timelines. Our journey is to break free from this eternal cycle, and transcend the suffering that binds us to it. The LIs are not merely romantic interests, but essential companions in that pursuit.
Each of them carries a unique connection to the MC across time, and each plays a vital role in guiding her towards the resolution of this long-standing Kārmic entanglement. It is precisely for this reason that all of them exist within the current timeline simultaneously. Their presence is neither arbitrary, nor accidental. It is a fundamental part of the narrative’s deeper mythological and philosophical framework.
To understand the purpose of the LIs, one must first understand the cycle of Saṃsāra: भवचक्र (Bhāvāchākrā). This cycle of existence which encompasses birth, suffering, death, and rebirth is divided into 6 Realms where sentient beings reside in. Each of these Realms is intrinsically linked to one of the LIs featured in the game —
🔥 Rafayel: देवलोक (Devālokā)
God Realm of pleasure and pride
🏹 Zayne: असुरलोक (Asurālokā)
Demi-God Realm of jealousy and strife
🗡️ Xavier: मनुष्यलोक (Mānuṣhyalokā)
Human Realm of opportunity and enlightenment
🌕 Valko: पशुलोक (Pāśhulokā)
Animal Realm of instinct, fear, and servitude
🩸 Sylus: निर्ऋतिलोक (Nirṛtilokā)
Underworld Realm of chaos and decay
🪷 Caleb: प्रेतलोक (Pretālokā)
Hungry-Ghost Realm of endless insatiable hunger
As we know, each LI possesses unique abilities and latent potential beyond their Evols, granting them the power to create, shape, preserve, or dismantle whatever they deem necessary. The intricate Strings of Fate connecting the LIs to MC was deliberately woven by CosmicMC Herself.
It’s purpose was to ensure that Her vessel on Earth could draw upon Her true power through all 6 Realms, with the aid of every LI. Only by uniting these connections can She access the fullness of Her divine potential, and ultimately shatter the endless cycle of anguish that has bound Her across countless lifetimes.
Needless to say, it is unlikely that any additional LIs will be introduced to the game. With Valko’s arrival, the narrative now possesses all the pieces it was designed to have from the very beginning, allowing the story to finally move forward.
[⚠️ Please note: There are numerous realms of the Underworld described throughout Vedic scriptures. I chose to highlight the one that appears most relevant to Sylus’s storyline. Pretāloka is another such realm, and it has connections to Caleb’s narrative. If anyone is interested in Vedic mythology and would like to learn more about these realms beyond the context of the game, please feel free to ask. I would be delighted to share and discuss them further. 🤍]
🔖 I would also like to add that primordial cosmic entities, such as Gods, are not beings who concern themselves with the opinions or expectations of mortals. In that regard, CosmicMC is no different. Much of what has transpired throughout the narrative can be viewed as the manifestation of Her own will, unfolding according to a design far beyond mortal comprehension, much like the whims of Deities within the real world. To truly appreciate the lore presented in this game, one must approach it through a non-Abrahamic lens. And remain receptive towards Vedic and Pagan beliefs, philosophies, and cultural traditions.
... WHICH COULD MEAN NOTHING
SYNOPSIS: rafayel compliments you and has a nickname for you and holds your hand and openly flirts with you... which could mean nothing
tags/warnings: rafayel x fem!reader, fluff, reader is both oblivious and refuses to accept love, lowkey yandere/stalker/manipulative!rafayel if you squint, reader thinks she's undeserving of love, happy ending, I think that's it! wc: 6.6k
a/n: hi hi!! I finally got around to working on a raf drabble that turned into This,, I hope u guys enjoy !! I liked playing around w the dynamic between reader and rafayel hehe I hope it comes across !!! thank u to my gorgeous wife tee and my beloved brother in arms emmy for proofreading !! PLEASE let me know what u guys think !! reading ur comments and tags genuinely keeps me going hehe,, okay enough yapping, I hope u enjoy :3
masterlist
It was the first exhibition you were working security for him. You hovered around him the entire night, smiling when he’d shoot you pleading glances. You shook your head at him and continued to scan the room. It was a nice event, you’d have to remember to compliment Thomas's work the next time you saw him. Everything went smoothly, and Rafayel was surprisingly cooperative the entire night.
You bit back a smile when you watched Rafayel's eyes sparkle underneath the spotlights, explaining his pieces to every sponsor and guest as he made his way around the room. The thumping of your heart made your face flush as you watched him smile and gesture wildly towards the canvas, mimicking the brushstrokes he’d used to capture the raging sea. He stole a glance back at you, smirking a little when he caught you staring. You tore your gaze from him, blinking quickly and regaining composure as you stood a little straighter.
When the night came to a close you waited for a moment off to the side, laughing to yourself as Thomas all but shoved Rafayel to shake hands with the VIPs. After he finally finished, he made his way in front of the largest canvas in tonight's showing. You pushed yourself off the wall you'd been leaning against, standing next to him and looking at the painting alongside him. You clasped your hands behind your back, rocking slightly on your heels, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.
“Did you know I started this piece a year ago?” His words echo slightly in the now empty room. The lights pointing straight at the painting cast beautiful shadows across his face. You only hum in response, reading the title card next to the painting.
The Sea’s Love.
“Good thing it sold for the highest then,” you joke lightly, still focusing on the painting ahead of you. Rafayel turns his head slightly, gaze focusing on you.
“When I first started painting it, I was fueled by anger and frustrations,” he states, voice neutral as he continues to watch you. “I was so angry, I felt like I would never be able to feel truly happy, like I’d never trust enough to be able to love again.” Rafayel pauses for a second, eyes shifting back to the painting you were so engrossed in. “I abandoned it after three days of working on it.”
Your brows furrowed slightly, focus finally tearing from the art to the artist beside you.
“You said you finished this in six days though,” there’s genuine confusion on your face as you continue, “and you said you were inspired by feelings of hope and love, not anger.”
Rafayel hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer to you. “I did. Somewhere along the way I realized I could love again, but it doesn't mean those negative feelings just vanished overnight.”
“So your anger and fears, they still live alongside the way you love and devote yourself to whoever your beloved may be.” It was less of a question and more of an observation. You cocked your head at an angle, eyes tracing every brushstroke.
“Exactly Miss Bodyguard. Love is like the sea, filled with beauty and serenity, but also storms and chaos. That's what love truly is, messy and heartbreakingly wonderful."
It was nice to talk to Rafayel when he was in his element and not making your job next to impossible. You smiled at the explanation, nodding your head and turning to look at him, his eyes met yours.
“That’s nice, I like that.”
“I picked it up again a month ago. I found new inspiration, one that invoked the more ‘positive’ influence of the painting.” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes lingering on you enough to make your face flush, “right after I met you, actually.” His eyes never left yours, and the last couple words make heat rise quickly to your cheeks. The room felt too hot all of a sudden, and you were quick to break eye contact first.
“I think they’re about to shut the lights off, let’s get you home before Thomas tries to pitch you a commission for a sponsor,” you smile, turning on your heel and taking a deep breath. So he picked up his painting about love and the complexity of it after he met you? So what? It doesn’t mean anything, just a coincidence, a one off chance that will probably never occur again.
Rafayel smiles behind you, watching as you wipe your hands nervously on your pants. You were flustered, cute. He takes one last glance at the painting, focusing on the middle right, where he’d hidden your initials among brushstrokes.
It was hard for you to say no to people. Even harder when ‘people’ was Rafayel staring at you with wide pleading eyes, and you were saying ‘no’ to an all-expenses-paid trip to Italy to visit his aunt for the weekend.
“Miss Bodyguard, what if EVER gets me on the flight there? Or my stalkers figure out where I’m staying and kidnap me? I’ll be defenseless and all alone and you’d be none the wiser!” Rafayel gives you his best pout, and damn it was good.
“Rafayel, I promised my friends I’d go to dinner with them already,” you sighed, guilt creeping in your chest as your mind ran wild with possibilities. What if something bad did happen to him? What if he really did need you there?
“Fine, when you see on Linkon City News that world-famous artist Rafayel Qi was found dead on the Italian coast, you better not cry.” He huffs softly before getting up from his spot on the couch, heading to his back porch as the sun begins to set.
You frowned at his words, quickly following him outside. “If you’re worried about security you could always hire someone else! I’m sure anyone would-”
“I don’t want anyone, I want you.” For a moment a flicker of something flashes in his eyes, it leaves before you can place it. Your stomach flips at his words, and you have to remind yourself he doesn’t mean those words in the way you secretly hoped he did. This was a professional relationship. As professional as a pouting diva artist and overworked hunter-turned-security detail can be, at least.
Rafayel leans on the railing that heads to the beach, chin propped in the palm of his hand as he scowls. He knew you’d feel guilty if he sulked for long enough, and sulk he did. “I’m sure my dumb seagulls will miss me when I’m dead in three days time, we never finished our final choir act y’know.”
You rolled your eyes, pulling your phone out and sending a profuse apology to your group chat. You can’t make brunch Saturday, the job you took as a side quest is requiring you to travel for an event this weekend.
“Watcha writing? You should look up caskets near us, help me choose one since I’ll be dead in-” you cut him off by flicking his forehead. “Ow! What was that for? You’re supposed to protect me!”
“You are so dramatic you know that?” Rafayel can’t help but smile, knowing he had you right where he wanted you. “Stop smiling, you ruined my weekend plans,” you furrowed your brows at him, looking out into the ocean as the sun slowly sunk deeper into its depths. The oranges and pinks never failed to take your breath away.
“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior Miss Bodyguard.”
You were going to kill Rafayel. You had to find him first, but then you were going to kill him. This was poor foresight in your end, you had to admit. You really should’ve put two and two together when Rafayel took you dress shopping and picked out only items that matched his suit.
“I thought you were just visiting?” You’d asked, zipping up the dress and looking in the mirror.
“Well yes, but she has this charity event she’s putting on, told me to come and support the cause,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled mindlessly on social media, he smiled when he saw your moments posts.
“What’s she donating to?” You asked as you smoothed the dress out, fixing your hair a bit and twirling to see how it fit.
“Combating human trafficking,” he replied, it wasn’t a total lie.
“Oh that’s nice.”
The sound of the curtain opening made him snap his head up. He thought his nose might start bleeding soon.
“What do you think? I feel like maybe it’s too much? I’m just security so I shouldn’t be flashy in the first place,” you slowly shrunk into yourself, Rafayel was quick on his feet.
“It’s perfect,” he breathed out, his fingers ghosting over your shoulders, itching to finally touch your skin. It took every fiber of his being to pull away, he swallowed hard before shaking his head. “You’re my security, you have to look the part, don’t want you embarrassing me with a boring outfit do you?”
You shook your head, smiling slightly as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “It is really pretty, isn’t it?” Your eyes were focused on the detail of the gown, Rafayel was focused on the details of your face.
“Very beautiful,” he agreed softly.
“Miss Y/N?” The voice pulled you out of your haze, a nervous smile on your lips as you focused back on the woman in front of you.
“My apologies, what did you say?” Your eyes shift nervously around the room, hoping to find the familiar purple haired man you’d arrived with.
“How long have you and Rafayel been together?” The question would’ve been harmless, had you actually been in a relationship with the artist. You were grateful for the amount of training the association made you do on remaining stoic under pressure.
So with a gentle smile you replied, “only about a month,” the lady cooed at you, going on about young love. The second your eyes met with Rafayel’s across the room, you quickly excused yourself. Rafayel smiled at you, then he realized your eyes were narrowed at him, his smile seemed to grow when you roughly grabbed his arm.
“Where the hell did you go?!” You hiss at him, making sure your voice wasn’t too loud.
“Miss me already cutie? I was just giving the staff my piece for the auction, doing my part or whatever,” he smiled at you, trying to hide how much he loved how angry you looked.
“Okay first of all do not call me that,” Rafayel pouts at your words. “Second of all I’m here as your security, to secure you, make sure you’re secure. How do you suppose I do that when you run off behind my back?” You smack him lightly with your purse, hitting him harder when he lets out a string of ‘ow's that cause guests to turn and look at the two of you. Both of you give them convincing enough smiles to turn away.
“Third of all, why did some random lady ask me how long we’ve been together?”
Rafayel’s cheeks turn a hue of pink as you ask your third question, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. No, stay strong.
“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry for running off. I just had to give them the canvas I donated or else Aunt Talia would have me gutted. I promise I won’t do it again cu- Miss Bodyguard,” he begrudgingly corrects himself, you thank him under your breath. “As for the last question, hypothetically, how angry would you be if I told my Aunt that you were my girlfriend and everyone accidentally found out? Hypothetically.”
It wasn’t an accident, he’d asked Talia to put you down as his plus one, and next to your name on the guest list were the words ‘Rafayel’s muse.’
“Hypothetically you don’t pay me enough to fake date you,” you bite back, hoping he can’t see the flush on your cheeks or hear how fast your heart is beating. “Hypothetically,” you sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes for a moment before looking at Rafayel, “if you have a good enough reason for it then I won’t quit.”
“Well, if everyone knew you were my bodyguard they’d know to target you, and then without you I’d be a defenseless fish out of water.” You hate how quickly he replies, and you hate how much of a point he has. You can only grumble, muttering something about a raise before taking a flute of champagne, chugging it down, and slipping your arm into Rafayel’s.
He pulls you closer to his side. You steal a glance at someone’s program, seeing that underneath the piece Rafayel had donated was your name, and next to it were the words ‘to my one and only muse.’ It must all be part of the ruse, the way he complimented you and stole glances at you throughout the night was just to sell the act.
And when he takes the heels off your feet and carries you from the cab to your hotel room, you take it as him just being nice. The way his eyes linger on you for a second too long when you say goodnight at the door probably means nothing.
You stare up at the hotel ceiling, repeating it to yourself until you can convince yourself of it.
It means nothing. There’s nothing there.
You wish the butterflies in your stomach and the thumping against your rib cage got the memo.
Rafayel takes you into the city the next day, buying souvenirs for the two of you. His hand brushes against yours more times than you can count, you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath catches in your throat. (he does).
When the two of you arrive in Linkon again you turn to say goodbye to Rafayel, finding him already looking at you.
“I really enjoyed being with you this weekend,” his words catch you off guard, mouth slightly agape as you scramble to find the meaning behind his words. There’s no way he means fake dating you, that would never happen. You smile at him and nod in agreement.
“So did I, I’ll see you around,” you reply, not thinking too much of it, you can’t let yourself. Before you can turn to hail a cab, his hand envelopes your wrist, his mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to say something.
“What is it?” You ask, scanning his face for a moment and ensuring nothing was wrong. He’s quiet for a moment, still holding you in place.
How does he stop you from leaving? How does he keep you with him for as long as possible?
“Let me give you a ride home, airport cabs are way too expensive,” he finally says, his voice as relaxed as it always was. You want to punch yourself for thinking he would say anything else.
“It’s okay Rafayel, if you’re that worried about my finances just give me a raise,” you tease, waving goodbye and easily slipping out of his grasp. You feel your chest tighten as you close the door behind you, letting out a small sigh. Fake dating for a weekend didn’t mean anything, him falling asleep on your shoulder during the plane ride was nothing.
There’s nothing there, you remind yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the clouds, as much as you wished there was, there wasn’t.
You needed to go out on a date. It was starting to get ridiculous. So you did what any sensible person does: bought bottles of wine and invited your friends over to curate your dating profile. Hours later through flushed cheeks and barely contained giggles, it was done. Now all that was left for you to do was swipe on whoever you liked and hope you’d match.
It didn’t take long for you to realize that half the people on there only really wanted one night stands and nothing serious. With most of them starting off with terrible pick up lines and the rest jumping straight to “dtf?” You were seriously giving up hope, until finally you came across someone who actually struck up a conversation.
Two weeks later you found yourself fidgeting with your outfit, changing for the third time and fixing your hair one more time. You jumped as your phone buzzed on your bathroom counter top.
[incoming video call from Rafayel]
You answered on the second ring, phone still on the counter with only the top half of your head showing as you fixed your mascara.
“Hey Miss Bodyguard wanna come over? I need your opinion on this art piece I’m working on,” he pans the camera over to a colorful canvas before re-centering his face, you can see his brows furrowing as he watches your actions. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry Rafayel, I can’t today I have plans already,” you blink a couple times before finally feeling satisfied, fluffing your hair and grabbing your phone. “I don't think I'm qualified to give opinions on art, but I can swing by tomorrow after work?” You watch as Rafayel’s eyes widen, his mouth opens slightly as he stares at you. “Hello?”
“Do I have an event I didn’t know about?” Rafayel questions, swallowing hard as he blinks rapidly, drinking in your appearance through his phone screen. God, you looked gorgeous.
“No, no, just going on a date is all,” you mumble, embarrassed beyond belief as your cheeks heat up.
“A date?” Rafayel feels his world stop, blood going cold.
“Yeah figured I should put myself out there y’know? It’s been a while and I’ve been- anyway whatever, good luck with your painting!” You smile brightly before hanging up. Rafayel thinks his phone might crack from how tightly he was holding it. You absolutely could not go on that date.
You needed this date, you had to get over your feelings for Rafayel. Taking a deep breath you finally exited your apartment, locking your door and heading for the cafe you’d agree to meet at.
When you arrived at the cafe you sent your date a quick message, telling him you’d be seated in a booth near the back corner. You tapped your fingers against the table, looking around the room as you checked your phone. It’s fine, people run late all the time.
Ten more minutes passed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to order your drink while you waited. You stood nervously in line and glanced at the door with every ring of the bell, heart sinking when it wasn’t your date. The thumping of your heart slowly subdued, and you felt silly for getting your hopes up so much.
With slumped shoulders you slid back into the booth, checking your phone one more time as you sipped on your drink. Nothing. The door opened again, the small bell on top of the door rang as your head shot up.
It wasn’t your date. You sipped your drink slowly, opening your phone and staring at the last text your date had sent you.
‘See you soon! :)’
It’d been thirty minutes already, you’d texted him with no response. Just your luck you get ghosted on your first date back on the dating scene. With a heavy heart and a bruised ego you threw your now empty cup in the trash can, stepping into the warm summer air and taking a deep breath. Maybe it was a sign.
You didn't move when you got in your car, staring blankly at your steering wheel for a moment. The sound of your phone vibrating made your heart rate pick up, quickly checking the screen.
[incoming call from Rafayel]
You take a deep breath, muttering a small prayer under your breath before answering.
“Hello?”
“You know it’s terrible etiquette to answer your phone while on a date right?,” you can hear his teasing tone, it makes your stomach churn.
“It uh- ended early,” you lie, “what’s up?”
Rafayel grins at your words, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he places an ice pack over his knuckles, walking back to the couch.
“I ordered way too much takeout, what are the odds you wanna swing by and grab some? We can put on that movie you told me about last week,” Rafayel adjusts the bouquet of flowers he got you during his side quest earlier.
You’re quiet for a moment, this was definitely not going to help squash your bubbling feelings for the artist. But you were starving, and you didn’t want to wallow in self-pity just yet, not when your hair had turned out so nicely.
“Did you finish your painting already?”
“I can work on it tomorrow,” he huffs out, “c’moooooon cutie, come over and help me finish this food, please?”
“I’ll be there in 15,” you reply, biting back your smile as you shake your head and hang up.
You unlock his front door with the key he’d given you, calling out to make sure he knew it was you entering. Within seconds he rounded the corner, a smile on his face as he greeted you, clad in a hoodie and shorts. The sight never failed to make your heartbeat race.
“You look beautiful y’know,” Rafayel says softly after the two of you finish eating. You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, your eyes are glued to the TV stuck on a loading screen. “He’s an idiot to not have realized what a catch you are, cutie.”
You don’t have enough fight in you to protest against the pet name, you know he doesn’t mean it romantically. You're too emotionally drained to think about the fact that you never even told him how the date went
“Thanks Raf,” you say softly, had anything been playing he wouldn’t have heard it.
“I’m Raf now?” The man grins, cheeks dusted pink as he repeats the nickname. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him.
“Don’t make me take it back,” you groan as he scoots closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder and letting a content sigh leave his lips. Maybe it was because you already felt vulnerable and Rafayel just so happened to be there for you. Maybe it was because he handed you a bouquet of flowers when you walked in the door. You don’t know why you say it, but you do.
“I should’ve known better than to think I’d find someone on a fucking dating app,” you scoff, laughing slightly as your gaze settles in your lap. Rafayel sits up straighter, a sympathetic smile on his face.
“Hey,” his voice is feathery, his touch even more so as he lifts your chin for you to look at him, “dating apps are stupid, I could’ve told you that for free.” He smiles, you can’t help but reciprocate it.
“You’re amazing, you know that? Anyone would be lucky to have you,” his face is closer to you than you ever remember it being, “I would be lucky to have you.” There’s no playful undertone in his words and no pout on his lips as he stares at you. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fraction of a second.
“Rafayel,” you breathe out, eyelashes fluttering as everything becomes too much. What was happening? Could this mean-
The sound of the movie abruptly starting makes you jump, the sudden realization of how close you were has you clearing your throat, scooting away from the man you so desperately wish to be closer with.
He almost kissed you. You almost kissed him. He was there for you after a terrible date, with flowers and your favorite food. Which could mean nothing, and for the sake of your already aching heart, you tell yourself it does mean nothing. Because it was Rafayel and you were just, well, you.
It was hard to quell your feelings after that night. It was harder for you to ignore how pretty Rafayel was, how charming his smile was and how well you and him got along. It was damn near impossible to ignore just how much you liked him.
You tried to brush off his offhand comments, immediately deflecting and not allowing yourself the pleasure of entertaining the idea. This was Rafayel. The most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life, he was funny and kind and caring and he did not have a thing for you.
“Hey cutie, what do you say we grab a bite after this?” He winks at you during an exhibition, you want to kill the butterflies in your stomach.
“I can’t, sorry Rafayel,” you say simply, giving him a small smile and hoping he’d drop it. He doesn’t, of course he doesn’t.
“C'mon! We can go to the place you’ve been wanting to try! I saw your moments post about it,” he narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms and leaning forward.
You take a small step back. Rafayel wants to grab you by your waist, he digs his fingers into the fabric of his shirt to stop himself.
“I already have some food I have to finish up, maybe next time?” You smile nervously, palms already sweaty from how intently he was looking at you. His purple bangs falling gently across his forehead, you fight the urge to brush them out of his eyes.
Rafayel only spoke to you again when parting ways after the exhibition, turning around and causing you to almost bump into his chest.
“Y’know I’m here for you, right? Whenever you want for whatever you need,” the words catch you by surprise, making your heart thump louder in your ears as you smile at him.
“O-okay thanks,” you reply, moving to walk past him, he grabs your wrist, staring at you like he was going to say more. He opens his mouth before closing it again, shoulders slumping and letting out a small sigh. He lets go of your wrist, savoring the way the warmth of your skin felt on his. “Let me know when you get home, Miss Bodyguard,” he smiles softly.
“Okay,” you breathe out, eyes lingering on his lips for a second too long. You turn on your heel quickly, the mantra you’d always repeat to yourself when it came to Rafayel already looping in your mind.
It probably means nothing. The look in his eyes wasn’t anything, it couldn’t be. Your heart tugs the further away from him you get, God, you wish it did.
You decided you were going to be brave. After almost a year of debate, you were going to take a leap of faith.
With shaky fingers you hover over the dial button, taking a deep breath before tapping your screen and putting the phone to your ear. It only rings once before you hear the same voice that always makes your stomach flip.
“Well to what do I owe the honor of you calling me first, Miss Bodyguard?” Rafayel smirks on the other line, leaning back in his seat as he puts the phone on speaker, mindlessly twirling a paintbrush between his fingers.
“I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise that you won’t judge me or laugh at me or- are you already giggling?” You furrow your brows, nerves slowly replaced by that familiar feeling of enamored frustration only Rafayel managed to bring out.
“You can’t tell someone to not laugh at something, everyone knows that just makes them want to laugh,” he states, “but fiiine, I won’t laugh.”
“Do piercings hurt a lot? I know you have a bunch and I’ve been wanting to get one forever and I’ve been so scared but I really want one.” You rush your words out, pacing around your living room before staring out your window and flopping backwards on your couch.
“You thought I would laugh because you’re… scared to get a piercing?” Rafayel cocks his head slightly, pausing his movements as he sets his brush down, grabbing his phone and smiling softly. He can picture you already, your face is probably warm, nose scrunched and lips pouting as you look to your side in embarrassment, shrugging your shoulders.
“Well, yeah,” you mutter, nose scrunched and face hot as you stare away from your phone, as if he could see you through the camera.
“What kind of piercing do you wanna get? The pain depends on the placement but also everyone’s pain tolerance is different.” He hears you hum on the other end of the line.
“I wanted to get my nose pierced, is that lame?” Your face is hot, embarrassed to be so scared of something so many people did.
“You’re gonna look great with it! It shouldn’t hurt too much, when are you gonna get it?” Rafayel has to take deep breaths as his imagination runs wild. The thought of you with your nose pierced, he closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calm down as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“I don’t know, I was kinda thinking of getting it soon, rip the band aid off,” you smile, sitting up from your position on the couch and checking the time. “Are you busy right now?”
“I’m never busy when it comes to you,” Rafayel replies easily, wiping his paint stained hands on a nearby rag before standing up.
“Do you think you could come with me? To get the piercing?” You’re covering half your face with one hand out of embarrassment. You’re fully prepared for him to laugh at you, say ‘hell no!’ and hang up on you. Okay, that might be a little extreme.
“I’m already on my way, cutie,” he replies, you can hear the jingling of his keys before you let out a small, ‘okay’ and hang up. You stare at the floor for a moment, then a wide smile breaks onto your face. You break out into maniacal giggles, burying your face in your hands before biting your bottom lip.
Rafayel knocks on your door in 15 minutes time, hair falling perfectly and cologne wafting into your senses the moment you open the door. You look up at him with a shy smile, having never noticed just how built the man was. He crowds your space as he leans against the door frame, smiling and holding his hand out for you to take.
“Are you ready?” He asks, you nod, hesitantly putting your hand in his. You ignore the way your whole body reacts to the simple touch. You’re too in your head to notice the way his face goes red as his hand envelopes yours.
Rafayel was enjoying this way too much for your liking, but you were too nervous to make any remarks as he walked into the piercing shop with your clammy hand in his.
“Hey what can I help you guys with today?” The man asked, looking between the two of you, “matching tattoos maybe?” He grins, you can’t help but let out a nervous chuckle.
“Maybe next week, right cutie?” He chuckles when your eyes go wide and you elbow him.
“I wanted to get a nose piercing,” you tell the man, and two consent forms later you’re seated in the piercing chair, fidgeting with your t-shirt nervously as you talk to Rafayel.
“It’ll look good right? I won’t look stupid with it?” Rafayel smiles at you and nods.
“You’re gonna look stunning, Miss Bodyguard,” he mumbles, walking from his position across the room to your side. “Who knows, you might even inspire me to paint more pieces about you.”
You smile at him, then the words process in your mind. “What do you mean ‘more’?”
“Alright! I’m gonna go ahead and mark where the piercing will go and let me know if you like the placement!” The piercer walks in, saving Rafayel from having to answer your question. Reluctantly you tear your gaze from him, smiling at the piercer and sitting still as she marks your nose and hands you a mirror to check. You nod in approval, handing the mirror back as she preps the area.
Rafayel is staring at you intently, your heart is racing, fear coursing through your veins as the piercer turns to grab the needle.
“Can you hold my hand?” You ask quietly, Rafayel all but jumps at the opportunity, intertwining your fingers with his, like he was always meant to be by your side.
“Alright, you ready?” She asks and you nod, eyes focused on Rafayel’s pretty blue-pink ones. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth for me.” You do as you're told, feeling slightly embarrassed by how sweaty your palm is against Rafayel’s.
“Deep breath,” he says softly, eyes glancing between your gaze and the needle, squeezing your hand as she punctures the cartilage. “Good girl,” Rafayel praises, thumb stroking the back of your hand in soothing circles as your eyes water slightly. You blink rapidly, a stray tear slipping out as they insert the small stud in place of the needle.
“Alright you’re all done!” The piercer smiles at you, letting you know to head up front to pay. You thank her quickly, turning to Rafayel who still had a tight grip on your hand.
“How do I look?” You smile at him. Rafayel doesn’t say anything for a second, eyes scanning your features as his thumb swipes the stray tear from your cheek.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, squeezing your hand before helping you out of the chair. He’s quick to beat you to the register, immediately handing the receptionist his card before you have the chance to protest.
You’re too flustered by his compliment to fight back, opting instead to simply thank him as he places his card back in his wallet. Rafayel doesn’t say anything, his hand slotting back into yours. Both of your faces are burning hot, with neither of you addressing it until your hand leaves his as he holds the car door open for you.
“That wasn’t as terrible as I thought it was gonna be!” You gush as Rafayel slips into the driver's seat. He watches from the corner of his eye the way you stare at your reflection in the sun visor mirror.
“You did a great job! My brave girl,” he says smoothly, left hand on the steering wheel and the other coming to squeeze your arm gently. Your body is on fire at the small contact, and you’re having a hard time rationalizing this into nothing.
He holds your hand during your piercing, tells you he’s painted pieces inspired by you, that could mean nothing. But now he’s calling you his girl? Your mind is scrambling and you can only land on one conclusion.
“Rafayel?”
“Cutie?” He purrs back, he can all but see everything in your head clicking into place, his heart thumping against his chest as your gaze bores into your lap.
“Do you like me?” You check to see if the passenger door is unlocked, in case he laughs in your face and you have to jump out of this moving vehicle. You think about the logistics of it, you’d most likely survive, mainly surface injuries, you’ve fought off hordes of wanderers, you could take jumping out of a car. What you couldn’t take, is the artist you’ve been crushing on for a year calling you delusional.
“I thought that much was obvious, I’ve been flirting with you since I met you,” Rafayel lets out a deep chuckle, turning to look at you briefly. Your mouth is agape, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief.
“What?!” You shriek. Rafayel only laughs harder.
“Did you think I just went around complimenting everybody? Calling people cutie and my muse?” Your silence makes Rafayel’s mouth drop. “Are you serious?!” He exclaims, parking the car in front of your apartment building before turning to face you fully.
“I didn’t want to assume things! I just rationalized everything that happened,” you defended, “I just kept telling myself it meant nothing and you were just a flirty person!”
“So when I gave you a key to my house?”
“I’m your bodyguard so you gave it to me for security purposes,” you explained, and Rafayel had to hold back his laughter.
“I told you there’s no one in my life that I’d want with me other than you, and that’s the conclusion you came to?” Your face burned as you tried (and failed) to defend yourself. “Okay and the time I told you that you were the reason I started painting with lighter tones and images of hope and love instead of despair?"
“You said that you did that after you met me, not that-” saying it out loud makes it seem obvious, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you realize the mental gymnastics you’d been doing all year.
“I practically professed my love for you the night you got stood up, how did you rationalize that?” His head cocks slightly, a smug smirk on his face as he wonders what radical conclusion you’d landed on.
“That you’d never have feelings like that for someone like me,” you shrug your shoulders, not daring to meet his eyes as you finally come clean. The true reason you’d brushed his every move off, the one thing driving the mantra you’d always told yourself.
“Someone like you?” Rafayel repeats, his heart clenches at your words. He doesn’t say anything else, the restraint he had for the past year is thrown out the window as he reaches over the center console and angles your face towards him.
“Do you like me?” Rafayel asks, his breathing erratic as he stares into your eyes. You give him a small nod, about to say something else before you’re cut off with his lips on yours. You tense for a moment, body catching up before your brain does as you melt into the kiss, hands weaving in the soft purple tresses at the nape of his neck. You whimper slightly when Rafayel pulls away and nips at your bottom lip.
“Please tell me you can’t rationalize that,” he mumbles, you laugh, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
“If I try hard enough-” Rafayel takes your face in one hand, lifting it up and kissing you once more, careful to not hit your freshly pierced nose.
“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips, “you drive me crazy– you’re the only one I want– I want you all to myself, as my lover and as my everything,” he punctuates each statement between kisses, slowly turning rougher as you move in sync with him, tugging gently on his hair.
When he pulls away, the only thing connecting the two of you is a string of saliva between your lips, which Rafayel quickly wipes with his thumb, licking it clean. You bite back a moan.
“Am I clear enough now?” He smirks. You gulp, nodding.
“Do you wanna- we should probably- come on let’s head inside,” you finally sputter out, quickly opening the car door and heading to your apartment. Rafayel is hot on your heels, relief filling his body when you turn around and shoot him a shy smile as you unlock your door.
Rafayel crowds your space the rest of the day, kissing every inch of you, telling and showing you just how badly he’s been wanting you. He whispers sweet words to you as he brushes your hair out of face, his fingertips trace your sweaty skin, eyes staring at you like you were the most precious work of art ever created…. which could mean nothing.
But you know better now. It means the feelings you’d been shoving aside this whole time were reciprocated ten fold. It means he loves you, with every fiber of his being.
taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @pjselee @luvyizhou ask to be added!
3.Deep hydration.
Xavier's skincare is you sitting on his face.
Cw: Oral sex. Fingering. 🔞MDNI🔞
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
The mattress let out a tired, metallic groan as he settled in, the kind of sound that made you realize just how heavy he actually is when he isn't pretending to be effortless. Xavier was sprawled out on his back, head propped up by a single white pillow. His shirt was still untucked, the top buttons undone to reveal the pale line of his collarbones.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, a small plastic tub of your nighttime lip mask sitting between your thighs. The room was mostly swallowed by shadows, save for the warm, amber hum of the bedside lamp that turned everything a bit soft and hazy.
You dipped a finger into the thick, pink salve, catching your reflection in the vanity mirror across the room to smear it over your bottom lip. And there he was, you could feel his eyes on you. He was watching through heavy, half lidded eyes, arms tucked behind his head, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that was a little hypnotic.
"You're going to pass out before you even get to the toothbrush, you know," you teased, tilting your head to catch the light better.
"Mmm... I'm awake" He didn't even twitch. "What does that one smell like?"
“Strawberries and honey,” you murmured, wiping the leftover pink residue onto the back of your hand. You glanced back at him, noticing the way the light caught the dry, slightly bitten skin of his mouth. “Your lips are all chapped from being out on the roof earlier. You want me to put some on you?”
His arms dropped from behind his head, hands settling flat against the mattress. You watched his fingers dig into the fabric, a subtle tension coiling in his shoulders. Then, he tilted his chin his eyes locking onto yours, making the sleepy, lazy atmosphere in the room vanish in a heartbeat.
"Come here"
"Xavier, I just did my face," you protested, though your heart gave a traitorous little skip. "I'm going to get cream all over your shirt."
“I don't care about the shirt.” The softness of his voice was a total lie, it didn't match the weight of the way he was looking at you. He shifted, lifting his hips just enough to slide higher up the bed, splaying his legs wide to create a very deliberate, very empty space between his thighs.
The small click of the lid capping the tub sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room. You crawled onto the mattress, the sheets bunching and sliding under your knees as you made your way toward him. When you reached his hips, you hesitated for a heartbeat before you straddled his lap.
As soon as you were there his hands were on you. His palms slid under the hem of your sleep shirt, settling firmly against the bare skin of your waist.
He looked up at you, his eyes tracing the faint sheen of the moisturizer on your cheekbones before dropping, slow and hungry, to the thick gloss coating your lips.
“You want to share?”
“Yeah, let me just get a cotton swab...” you started, but the words felt a little breathless even to your own ears.
"No.”
The word was final. His hands moved to the backs of your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to take the brunt of your weight. Then, he slid his head off the pillow, his jawline looking sharp and tense as he stared straight up at you.
“Sit on my face.”
The bluntness of it was like a physical weight, just hanging there in the air, sucking the oxygen right out of the room. He looked perfectly serious, almost calm, but the way his fingers were bruising the skin of your thighs told a completely different story.
“Xavie...” you started, your voice trailing off into something small and uncertain.
“You said my lips were chapped,” a flicker of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth “So fix it. Put it right here.” He tapped his bottom lip with his thumb, a silent gesture, before letting his hand drop back to your thigh. “Sit down.”
The contrast between his usual, soft spoken self and the weight of that demand made your chest tighten. You reached down, hands finding his shoulders to steady yourself, the fabric of his shirt bunching under your fingers as you braced.
Slowly, you lifted your hips, moving forward until you were hovering directly over his mouth. The movement caused your shirt to slide up, leaving nothing but the thin lace of your underwear between your skin and his face.
Xavier didn't wait for you to get comfortable. The second your weight settled an impatient tug of his fingers pulled the fabric aside, leaving you completely bare and hovering just inches from his lips.
The cool air of the room hit your skin for a split second, but it was gone almost instantly, replaced by the concentrated heat of his mouth pressing directly into you.
He didn't start with his tongue. He simply pressed his mouth flat against your center, inhaling deeply, his nose parting your lips as he took you in. The friction of his cheekbones rubbing against the skin of your inner thighs, combined with the slight, rough prickle of his evening stubble, sent a sharp jolt straight to your core.
"Xavier, the lamp..." you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him react.
He resisted the tug, the muscles in his neck straining under your grip. He let out a short, rough breath that made your thighs twitch involuntarily. "Leave it," he muttered against your skin "I want to see how wet you get."
Then, he opened his mouth.
His tongue was broad, wet, and incredibly hot. He took one long stroke, starting from the very bottom of your entrance and sweeping all the way up to the hood of your clit. The contact made your back arch violently, your head dropping back as you stared up at the blurry ceiling.
"Don't move," he grunted. His voice sounded distorted and muffled against your wet skin. He used his forearm to pin your lower back, effectively locking you in place so you couldn't escape the sensation while his mouth went back to work.
Every sweep of his tongue was firm, flattening against your clit, smoothing the moisture he was drawing out of you across his lips. The wet sound of him sliding over you filled the quiet bedroom, the only thing breaking the silence besides the heavy drafts of air he was taking in through his nose.
"Xavie... please...” The word didn't even come out right, it just sort of broke in your throat as he swirled his tongue in a tight circle around your clit. When his teeth grazed the edge just a fraction of a second too much your muscles clamped shut around him in an involuntary reflex.
He let out a muffled chuckle, making your whole body shudder, and pulled his head back just an inch, the sight of him made you lose your breath. His lips were soaked, glistening under the glow of the lamp, smeared with you from his chin all the way up to the tip of his nose. His eyes were wide and bright, looking completely focused on you.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” the profanity made your stomach do a slow drop. He didn't look like a gentle man, he looked hungry. “Look at how much you’re leaking on my face.”
Your hands were trembling. His hair was a complete mess from your fingers.
"Is this how you like it?" he asked, his thumb sliding up to press into your opening, testing the slickness before pushing his finger inside you.
You gasped, head falling back again. "Yes—yes, Xavie, please—"
“Tell me,” he began to move his finger in a slow, torturous hooking motion inside you, while the very tip of his tongue played with your clit. He was being cruel, in the best possible way. “Tell me to eat you out until you come all over my mouth.”
“Do it,” you sobbed, your fingers digging into his shoulders so hard your knuckles turned white. “Eat it. Please, baby, just do it.”
“Good girl.”
He buried his face back into you. That slow, teasing rhythm? Gone. His tongue was fast and sharp, flicking directly over your clit with punishing precision while his finger drove deep inside you, perfectly mirroring the pace. He used his free hand to squeeze your ass, his grip firm enough to bruise.
Every time the pressure became too much and you tried to lift your hips to find relief he dragged you back down, forcing you to take every single ounce of it.
“Xavie...I’m I’m going to...”
“On my tongue, bunny” he ordered, the words vibrating against your skin. He pushed a second finger inside you, stretching you open “Give it to me. Let me taste all of it.”
The tension snapped. Your walls clamped down hard around his fingers, and your hips shuddered as you came. You screamed into the quiet of the room, your body shaking from head to toe.
Xavier didn't stop. He sucked your clit into his mouth, applying a firm, steady pressure as his fingers pumped inside you through the contractions, maximizing the spasm, riding out every single throb of your climax until you were completely spent.
He didn't move his face away immediately, he rested his forehead against your damp thigh. His entire lower face was wet, the hair around his temples sticking to his skin.
His thumb caught the edge of his lower lip, wiping away a smear of wetness and licking it off his skin with a slow, dark stare.
"My lips feel fine now," he said, his voice quiet, regular, the familiar soft rasp returning as if he hadn't just completely wrecked you. "But we might need to do it again in the morning. Just to be sure."
Tag list: @remnantsofgildedcages @i-idk-i-guess
8. Soft Landing
8.Cuddles that get sexual then sweet again with Xavier.(Early in relationship)
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
🔞MDNI🔞
The movie had been on for maybe forty minutes before both of you stopped watching it.
You'd started on opposite ends of the couch, then closer, then his arm was around you and your head was against his chest, and at some point you'd shifted so your back was to him, his chest warm against your shoulder blades, legs tucked behind yours. The TV murmured while the rain outside tapped the window.
"You still awake?" Xavier asked. His voice sounded relaxed.
"Barely," you admitted.
He made a soft sound against the back of your neck. Almost a laugh. His arm, draped over your waist, tightened just a little bit, like he was checking you were still there.
For a while that was enough. The warmth of him, the slow rise and fall of his breathing, his thumb tracing absent little circles against the fabric of your shirt. Back and forth. You weren't sure he even knew he was doing it.
Then his hand spread flat against your stomach "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah." The word came out softer than you meant it.
His hand moved slowly, no urgency anywhere in him, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt until his palm found skin. He was reslly warm.
"Still okay?"
"Xavie..." you said his name like a small complaint and felt him smile against your hair before his hand moved up, reaching the edge of your bra.
"Can I?"
Something about the way he asked made your chest go a little soft. "Yes," you said. "You can."
He was careful. Curious. Like he was learning something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. When his hands finally cupped your breast you exhaled slowly, his breathing making the back of your neck feel hot.
"You're so—" he started, then stopped himself.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just." A pause. "You."
You didn't push him to finish the sentence because you couldn't think about anything else but the fingers currently playing with your pebbled nipple.
His mouth pressed once to the back of your neck. Then again, lower. "Do you want—"
"Yes." You didn't wait for him to finish that one either.
His hand found its way back down, giving you time to change your mind, until you felt his fingers learning the shape of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties before slipping beneath it. The sound you made came out before you could stop it. He breathed out against your neck, quiet and unplanned, like you'd caught him off guard too.
He paid attention to every detail, the hitch in your breathing when he found the right rhythm, the way your hand reached back to grip his thigh when he pressed a little more firmly. He adjusted without being told and slowed down when you tensed, kept going when you exhaled. The circles around your clit stayed steady, patient, with just enough pressure to make your thoughts dissolve one by one.
When you moved your hips, just slightly to chase the feeling, he responded, moving with you instead of against you.
You gripped his forearm with both hands "There..." you managed, barely.
"Yeah?right here?" he sounded like he was pretty pleased with himself.
His mouth moved to the back of your neck again and you felt yourself winding tighter and tighter until—
"Let go, I've got you, bunny..."
"Xav—baby..." it came out quiet and wrecked as he held you through it, pressing his lips once to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your jaw.
After a few seconds you turned slightly, just enough to look at him. His eyes were soft. A little undone, maybe. Like he'd gotten something out of it too.
"Hi," you said
"Hi," he said back before pulling you closer, tucking you against him again with his chin resting on top of your head, his thumb doing that thing again against your side.
The movie ended and the credits rolled but neither of you moved to turn it off.
"Tired?" he asked eventually.
"Mm."
"Good tired or bad tired."
"Very good tired."
He made a low almost laugh again. Outside the rain was quieting.
You fell asleep before he did, thinking this was the most comfortable you'd felt in a long time.
God, I want to cuddle with him!!!! 😭😭
@thealunari @i-idk-i-guess @groovyravenagain @jadeloverxd @thelastpolarbear
submerging indulgence.
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?"
you're about to get fucked.
next part ›
©molilotus 2026
Folded
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."
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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.
☁︎⋅ (18+) rafayel’s sketches of you
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.”
masterlist
© lilacgrayskies on tumblr
{dividers from @/cursed-carmine}
Mr. and Mrs. Shen
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.
“i ah– came first, just like in our races.”
“that’s not how it works, and you kno–.”
“oh, so now you’re a masturbation expert?”
©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.
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