[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
there was no way to get out of your business trip, and you had been away from home for close to two weeks now. you figured that sylus would have been busy with his own work with onychinus as well-
that he wouldn’t miss you as much as you missed him.
you came back to the n109 zone in the middle of the night, unable to wait until the morning. there was a reason behind your return home during these ungodly hours, and that was for the sole purpose of surprising your beloved with your early return.
entering the safe house, your heels clicked with a purpose across the marble flooring, with you unfastening them before tossing them aside as you made your way to your shared bedroom.
as you inched closer and closer to the door, you began to hear strangled moans, the sound causing you to rush forward when you peek through the door-
only to feel your mouth go dry in response to the scene settled in front of you.
on the bed was sylus with his back arched. wet sounds were heard echoing throughout the room as he fisted his hard cock within his hand, stroking it with such fervor that it made your knees clash together in response. from the way his breathing hitched and how his hand moved at a faster pace, it was clear that he was getting close to his release.
fueled by your desire, you swiftly enter the room, slamming the door wide open. sylus turns his head over toward the sudden sound, your name coming out of his lips in a drawn out groan, “am i dreaming, or is it really you, kitten?”
practically salivating at the mere sight of him, you move his hand away, allowing you to see his cock in its entirety before settling yourself between his legs. your eyes were eclipsed with darkness, tinged with lust as you gave his inner thigh a gentle kiss. “it’s me, sy, and i must say, you gave me one hell of a homecoming surprise.”
“i could say the same to you, sweetie.” with his hands lovingly gripping at your hair, you allow your fingers to trace the veins that surround his shaft. basking in the way you feel his cock pulsate in response to your soft touch, you give sylus a coy smile before surging toward him, taking in as much of him that you could fit into your mouth.
his response was immediate, hands further delving into your hair as he slowly guides you up and down his cock. the sensation of your hot mouth wrapped oh so sweetly around him was enough to make him nearly release-
and while you gave sylus the best reunion of his life, you were certain now that the onychinus leader had missed you just as much as you missed him.
unfortunately for you, zayne had been stuck at the hospital for a few days now, working overtime as he had been swamped with surgeries. your phone calls were always cut short while your texts had been left on read-
but you didn’t fault zayne for his lack of communication, since you knew how stressful his job was. so instead of further bothering him with your calls and texts, you left him alone (ignoring how hard it was for you to do.)
a few days later, you began to worry about your boyfriend and decided to cook and pack up a nice meal for him. you knew that he must have not been eating well due to the lack of time. you bringing him a nice, home cooked meal was just one of many acts of love you didn’t mind performing for your beloved doctor.
navigating through the halls of akso hospital with a practiced expertise, you head towards the floor that housed zayne’s office. as you neared the frosted glass door, you heard his groans coming from inside of the office, jostling the doorknob to find that it was locked. extracting the spare office key zayne had made for you, you quickly unlock the door while calling out to him-
“zayne!”
the rest of your words seemed to die against your throat, with your bag filled with food falling to the ground as zayne’s office door shuts on its own. zayne was settled back against his chair, his scrubs askew while his hair remained a tangled mess of ebony locks (appearing as though he had ran his hands through them).
yet perhaps what was more shocking was the sight of his pants pooled against his ankles while his cock was laid bare for all to see. you watch as beads of precum kept escaping from his cockhead, the sight of it all sending shivers down your spine when you take careful steps closer to him.
“hah… what are you doing here? aren’t you… m-mad at me?”
you shake your head in response, taking off your skirt and panties before settling yourself on his lap. pressing your aching sex against his erection, you listen to zayne’s hitched breathing before stroking the side of his cock with your slick heat.
he tosses his head back, hands gripping at the armrest while his eyes remain clenched shut. “i was never mad at you.” you admit to him with a soft mewl, feeling the tip of his cock continuously brushing against your swollen clit.
“but… you stopped calling and texting me- ngh!” you speed up your strokes, pressing yourself against his chest while allowing your honeyed arousal to coat at the underside of his cock. “hah… silly zaynie, i only did that to stop distracting you.”
he ends up gripping at your backside, “don’t ever stop texting or calling m-me, i need to hear your voice, honey.”
only when you promised to keep calling him did he finally surge forward, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that swallows the rest of your moans.
were your eyes playing tricks on you?
or were you really seeing xavier, your usually calm and collected hunter boyfriend desperately rutting his hips against your pillow?
you had left for an extended amount of time, needing to attend a mandatory conference that was part of your job. sure, you and xavier kept in close contact through calls and texts throughout the month-
but you suppose it wasn’t enough to ease xavier of his desperation for you.
not wishing to interrupt him, you take a closer peak, finally noticing how he had one of your oversized shirt covering the pillow. his eyes were clenched shut each time he buries his cock between the mattress and the pillow, letting out tiny whimpers of your name in between thrusts.
unable to ignore the ache felt between your legs, you announce your arrival home by slamming the door wide open. “how cute… did you miss me that much, xavier?”
his eyes widen almost immediately, caught mid-thrust as his cock was hidden within the pillow once more. he lets out a low groan of your name, yet you were too focused on the outline of his cock straining against the pillow case.
“would you like some help?” you ask the philos prince casually, taking off your clothes as he tossed aside your pillow. he settles himself back in bed, grabbing you by the wrist once you were left bare for him as you land on him.
your legs were settled on either sides of his waist when you felt xavier gripping at your waist before slamming you down on his cock was a startling accuracy. you were unable to speak now, solely focused on the way xavier met your hips in an upward thrust, as evident of how much he had needed you this past month.
you enter your boyfriend’s luxurious home, softly calling out his name.
“rafayel? where are you?”
you go deeper into the house, frowning a bit when you heard several wet sounds coming from his studio. was he busy mixing paint for his latest commission?
stepping closer to the room the lemurian had made into his studio, you slowly open the door, about to call out his name when the sight of rafayel naked while settled on the couch makes you nearly stop breathing.
his groans and pants of your name echo throughout the room, with his hips rutting into what looked like a toy. his cock kept disappearing into the flesh colored toy, the squelching sounds of his cock pumping with a desperation into it filling you with a ridiculous amount of envy.
it didn’t matter that he was currently whimpering your name while fucking himself into the fleshlight-
only you should get the privilege of riding his cock.
“you’re so desperate and needy that you couldn’t wait for me?”
rafayel’s attention snaps back to you, eyes going bleary for a brief moment before smirking back at you. upon seeing you, he tosses the now useless toy aside, spreading his legs while further revealing his pretty cock to you.
with a come hither expression, you toss aside your clothes, remaining bare for him while eager to show him how it’s really done.
you came home from work a bit later than usual, returning to your shared apartment with caleb as you announced your return home.
as you take off your heals, you purse your lips at the silence that greets you. strange, caleb was usually home at this time, yet you heard no response from him.
“caleb?” you try once more to announce your arrival, stepping into the kitchen. your heart melts upon seeing your plate of dinner at the dining table-
yet your colonel was still nowhere in sight.
going deeper into the apartment, you saw that the light was on in the laundry room. feeling the excitement coursing through your veins, you knew that caleb had to be in the midst of washing your clothes, with you now tiptoeing toward the room in hopes of surprising him.
yet what you saw ends up taking your breath away instead.
his back was facing you, yet you could see how your hamper filled with your clothes was settled next to him. as you trail your eyes toward the ground, you realize that a bunch of your panties had been left on the floor, further accentuating your confusion.
you nearly jump back when caleb lets out a series of groans, his hands seeming to move rapidly against… something. stepping closer to him, you strain your head towards his front only to feel the heat blossoming from within your veins at the sight of caleb fucking his erection into one of your lace panties.
the flimsy fabric was wrapped securely around caleb’s hard cock, and he was stroking himself with the soft material. you must have made a noise since caleb immediately meets your gaze, magenta eyes now hidden by darkness as he lets out a groan of your name.
yet perhaps what was more sinful was how he didn’t stop his movements even when he was caught.
“ngh, hah, i would say it isn’t what it looks like, pipsqueak, but… hah… it’s hard to make up an excuse. you must think i’m pathetic, right?” you meet his gaze, noticing how his cheeks were stained a bright scarlet hue, yet instead of teasing him-
you end up helping him.
taking off your clothes, you climb on top of the washer and spread your legs for him, earning an almost feral look from your boyfriend. “come on, toss aside those ruined panties and fuck this instead.”
needing no further urging from you, caleb tosses the lace panties to the ground, allowing it to join with your other collections before surging forward. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, distracting you from the sight of his cock felt tracing at your outer lips before sliding within your heat.
he sets a rapid pace, bracing the palm of his hand against the washing machine as you felt yourself losing all of your senses-
succumbing yourself to caleb’s desperate lovemaking.
end notes: hhhhh the way i would just jump on all of their dicks immediately if i caught them 🙂↕️🤤
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
━ .ᐟ✧ GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, jealous behavior, possessive behavior, LOTS of filthy dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!sylus, dom!zayne, dom!xavier, dom!rafayel, don!caleb, pet names, unprotected sex, never pulling out, banter, individual content warnings below with their respective fics
━ ✧.˖ LINKS: ao3
━ .ᐟ✧ A/N: haiiii guys it’s been a while since i wrote for all the guys. now FIVEEEEE guys, call it a burger joint.. .. sorry this is a day late. i know i’ve done a jealous fic before but i wanted to kinda do it again when they’re not drunk + include caleb.
caleb will still get his jealous and drunk fic tho! i’m also working on some stuff for caleb still. if ur a caleb girly u will eat
enjoy friends <3
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
sylus 秦彻
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,213
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight voyeurism, mentions of xavier, mating press, sylus on top, furniture breaks, lots of loud sex, sylus makes reader scream, praising
In the time you’d known Sylus, you’ve had to replace your mattress frame exactly three times.
It had gotten to the point where you refused to let him stay over. Not that that mattered, as you found yourself staying at his base—his home—far more than your own.
But for whatever reason, Sylus had asked to stay at your apartment tonight—insisting that the base was unsuitable to sleep at tonight. Some unconvincing excuse about renovations. You were suspicious, but he wore you down.
And so you found yourself being absolutely fucked into your mattress, thinking about how you’d need to buy yet another frame tomorrow, when this one inevitably shattered.
“Syluus,” you moan breathlessly, “S-Slow—mmngh—slow down. Bed’s going to break.” You wince when you hear it creak, knocking against your bedroom wall.
“You don’t want that, dove,” Sylus purrs, “She doesn’t want that.” He rolls his hips harder, squeezing the plush of your ass so hard that he leaves indents in the shape of his fingers.
“You know I can’t deny her, not when she wraps around me so fucking perfectly,” he groans, hiking your thigh up against his hip so he can angle deeper.
“You’re impossible. W-What’s gotten into you?” you force the words out, your nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles of his shoulders, whimpering when he purposely drags his pelvis against your clit.
Sylus kisses your forehead, the tender gesture nearly enough to make you forget that he was knee deep in your guts trying to imprint his name into you.
“I haven’t seen you in a week. You’ve been so busy saving the world from Wanderers,” Sylus says simply, his voice calm and steady as if he wasn’t buried inside of you.
Your lips curl, and you tease, “You missed me?”
Sylus scoffs, his rhythm slowing for a brief moment, “Yes, terribly so. I’m not afraid to admit that.”
Your heart skips a beat, looking away shyly. But Sylus brings your face back to his, his grip on your chin gentle.
“What, getting shy on me now, little bird?” Sylus chuckles, almost condescendingly.
”That partner of yours gets to see this beautiful face more than I do. Don’t look away,” Sylus murmurs, eyes trained on your lips. He drags his pelvis intentionally along you, the coarse hair along the base of his cock working literal magic against your sensitive bud.
It’s not enough for you to miss the whiny undertone in his words though.
“You mean Xavier?”
Sylus’s pace falters, but he smirks still, raising an eyebrow at you, “Tch, you should only be thinking of me right now.”
”Y-You’re the one who—o-oh god—brought him up!” you say incredulously, finding the strength to gently smack his solid marbled chest. He catches your wrist before you can make content, bringing your fingertips up to his lips.
He nips at your hand in warning, his pace growing more forceful, as if telling you to watch yourself. His increased vigor makes your bed knock more violently against the wall, your eyes widening in fear.
”Sy, the neighbors are going to hear,” you whisper, knowing he wont listen to you anyway. He’d been forever trying to convince you to move in with him anyways.
“Hm, right. They will.”
You’re about to question his cryptic words when Sylus hoists your legs up, folding you in half. At this angle, he can quite literally hammer into you with an entirely renewed enthusiasm, reaching parts of you that he knew were your absolute weaknesses.
Your eyes roll back with a pleasured squeal, crying his name repeatedly.
Sylus smirks, praising you, your own name sounding like honey as it dripped off his tongue.
“That’s it, my love,” he coos, “Think you can get louder for me?”
You physically can’t respond, eyes squeezed shut as Sylus drives into your g-spot repeatedly and unrelentingly. He’s big enough where the head of his cock brushes against your cervix, a pleasure mixed with just the slightest pain that makes you delirious.
“Sy-lus,” you moan brokenly, unable to stop from practically screaming, “So deep—can’t…”
”You’re doing perfect,” he praises, whispering your name in a way that makes your stomach coil tightly, on the verge of exploding.
“Sh-shit. All you have to do is focus on screaming my name, hm? I’ll take care of the rest.”
You whine at the thought of your neighbors hearing you, knowing first hand just how thin the walls were. Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best to keep your sounds down.
And of course Sylus notices instantly. But instead of scolding you, he only fucks you harder–physically pulling the sounds out of you. The screams of ecstasy that he wants.
Screams that would undoubtedly be heard across the walls. And the ceiling,
“Just like that,” Sylus grunts, his crimson eyes nearly glowing with approval, “Think he can hear you, sweetheart?”
Your eyes, previously screwed shut in sheer pleasure, fly open as you register the implication of his words—his actions.
Sylus seems to anticipate your reaction, simultaneously bringing his lips over your nipple and his thumb to your clit—rendering you a wordless, squealing mess.
You can’t see the way Sylus smirks against your breast with a dangerous satisfaction, his ruby eyes glowing with adoration and possession.
“He might get to see you every day, but I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. So drunk off my cock that you can’t even open your eyes.”
His thumb moves faster, in perfect tandem with his claiming thrusts.
”He might get to hear them, but these screams are for me, and only me. Right, my love?”
You find yourself nodding obediently, willing to do anything to get him to shut up and give you the orgasm he’s holding just out of your reach.
”Syluuus,” you plead shamelessly, words slurring, “F-Feels s’goood. Please!” Any attempt at being quiet had long been abandoned, your brain clouded only with thoughts of Sylus and the filthy mating press he had you folded into.
Sylus was a man of fierce passion, but this was entirely different. His beautiful eyes held a swirl of dangerous emotions, nearly as intense as the vigor in which his body pounding down into yours. Your nearing climax rings in your ears, blocking out the sounds of your mattress frame snapping, his thrusts masking the feeling of the wood smashing into the ground.
He revels in your cries of pure ecstasy, satisfaction blooming in his chest as you grow louder with every thrust towards your release. Sylus’s vermillion eyes flicker to the ceiling of the bedroom, intrusive thoughts clouding his own building pleasure.
It’d be easier if he lived next to you as opposed to the unit atop yours.
With his lips at your neck, his thick body presses down onto you, angling himself deeper. As he brings your body to unprecedented heights, he whispers into the shell of your ear, voice husky and rough.
”Can feel how close you are” he groans, your cunt attempting to wring his cock absolutely dry, “Want him to hear you cum for me?”
You whine, weakly shaking your head ‘no.’ Sylus only grins, his hips snapping into the plush of your thighs.
”That’s too bad, kitten. Your dear partner is going to have to hear it anyway.”
xavier 沈星回
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,165
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dark!xavier, mentions of sylus, standing sex, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of cum marking, hitting it from the back, sex against the window, slight choking
“You’ve been at the N109 Zone a lot this week.”
You can hardly comprehend Xavier’s words over the sheer intensity at which he’s driving himself into you, as if trying to carve you perfectly into the shape of him.
“Wh-What?” you pant, your voice pathetically shaky as your palms desperately steady yourself against the window he has you pressed against.
The city lights twinkle beneath you, and you find yourself grateful that you’re more than ten floors up. Because the way Xavier had your naked body pressed into the cool glass pane, his chin digging into your shoulder as his hips snapped harshly into your ass?
If you were on a lower floor, anyone outside would undoubtedly see everything.
But you’re starting to think that’s exactly what he wants.
“The N109 Zone. You’ve been there almost every day this last week,” Xavier says, his words simple but his tone almost threatening. Not enough to scare you, but just enough to have your toes curling in excitement.
“And?” is all you manage, your back arching against his abdomen when he presses you deeper into the window. In response, Xavier’s thrusts slow to a near stop, his hand gently wrapping around the base of your throat. You whine in protest, desperately rolling your own hips backward against him, chasing the pleasure
His tender fingers stroke the sides of your neck, so softly and adoringly. It gives you whiplash when you see how dark his eyes have gotten, almost sinister.
Gripping you gently, he pulls you toward him by your neck until your head rests on his shoulder and you can really see the intensity of his shadowy azure eyes.
“Have you been working with the Onichynus leader?” he asks, his thrusts unbearably slow and shallow.
“Sylus?”
At that, Xavier snaps, his grip tightening and his pace quickening. Except it’s much more violent this time around–enough to have your body pounding into the glass and your head swimming with delirious ecstasy.
The sound of another man’s name on your tongue while his cock was nestled against your g-spot? That fueled Xavier with a jealousy that bordered on insanity.
“You did that on purpose,” he grunts unhappily against your ear. It’s nearly impossible to hear him over the sound of his pelvis pounding into your ass, the wet slaps resounding throughout the room.
“Mnngh…W-What did I do?” you ask, struggling to speak.
Xavier’s breath is heavy against your shoulder, his fingers abandoning your neck and instead cupping your jaw, turning your face towards him, so he can really look at you.
Wordlessly, he pulls your face to his, taking your lips into his–bruisingly and possessively. As his tongue claims every inch of your mouth, his cock does the same, filling you out so completely that you find it difficult to breathe.
“Do I need to be rougher?” Xavier grunts as he reluctantly pulls away from you, his lips shiny and cheeks flushed red. You squeak when his hand roughly cups your breast, kneading just how he knew you liked, but just a tad bit harder to make you scream.
“Do I need to remind you just how much you need me?”
He punctuates his words with a pointed thrust, his cockhead stroking roughly against your most sensitive spots.
“How much you need this?”
The intensity and passion in which Xavier takes you against the window is enough to render you a wordless, moaning mess. The glass is nice and cool against your burning skin, fogging up as Xavier presses you deeper into it.
He maneuvers your chin so that you’re facing the reflection again. He kisses your shoulder, deceptively tender, as he murmurs your name. The push and pull between tenderness and roughness confuses your brain, only making your body more receptive, more pliant, to him.
“Oh god—Xavier!” you moan unabashedly, your forehead falling forward to lean against the window. Xavier smiles, thoroughly pleased at the sound of his name leaving your beautiful lips.
But he was a greedy man and he wanted more.
“Look at me,” he commands gently, saying your name with so much conviction and possession that you're wracked with a violent shiver. He tilts your chin up again, so that you come face to face with him in the reflection, the city lights outside blurring. His fingers are soft against your skin, his grip demanding.
Xavier’s glassy cerulean eyes bore into yours through the reflection, misted with a dark and raw possession that you’d been seeing more and more of lately as Xavier opened his heart to you. A look that made your instincts tingle with the need to escape.
And yet your body only tightens with excitement, sucking Xavier further into you, wanting him harder–deeper.
But it’s still so effortlessly Xavier–pure and soft. It made your heart clench with adoration while your core tightened with desperation.
His intense eyes burn into your naked form, fingers forcing you to watch him, as he speaks again, “The next time you go to the N109 Zone, I’m coming too.”
You’re about to protest but Xavier cuts you off, “I know you’re perfectly capable. That’s not why.” His words come out shaky and soft as you get painfully tighter, inexplicably turned on by his possessive nature.
“If you’re going to be walking around the N109 zone with him, you’re going to do it with my cum dripping down your thighs.”
You gasp, your stomach tightening at his filthy–completely serious–words. Xavier smiles into the mirrored window that’s now fogging up with your combined torrid breaths.
“Do you like the sound of that? It feels like you do, angel.”
Xavier glances at you again, looking absolutely ethereal with the city lights twinkling behind his reflection. But he’s starting to look just as disheveled as you, his blonde hair strewn messily, his pale cheeks dusted pink, beads of sweat trailing down his muscles.
As you get distracted in the way his burning cock literally reshapes your gummy walls around him, Xavier grabs a gentle fistful of your hair, forcing you to level with him.
“Tell me you want it, please.”
His commanding words are tinged with just an inkling of insecurity, his blue eyes nearly begging with yours through the damp glass.
You push yourself off the glass, leaning back against him, knees buckling when he gets deeper.
Xavier wraps a secure arm around your chest, holding you effortlessly in place. In this position, he buries his face into your shoulder, his eyes still peeking over, trained on you.
Laying your head back against him, you cradle the back of his head with your hand. Maintaining eye contact, you somehow find the coherence to appease him, knowing he’d go insane without your reassurance, no matter how ridiculous what he was asking was.
“W-Wan’ it Xav,” you moan through the force of his thrusts, “Anything you give me, anything you want.
Xavier noticeably falters, his breaths becoming alarmingly ragged, azure eyes darkening to a deep navy instead.
“Then, let’s start right now.”
zayne 黎深
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,120
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking + hickeys, improper evol use, dry humping, mentions of caleb, zayne on top, praising
Zayne wasn’t a jealous man.
At least that’s what you’d thought—what he’d made you and everyone who knew him believe.
He was wildly successful in his career, self-assured in himself, and secure in your relationship.
And yet, the way he was sucking bruises into every inch of your burning skin, with the clear intent to mark and claim–where everyone could see, said otherwise.
“Zayne—!” you cry out as he bites a particularly mind-numbing hickey into your collar, his skilled tongue soothing the sensitive skin as his teeth graze against the forming bruise.
“Hm?” is all he murmurs. But he doesn’t let you continue or clarify, because the next thing you know, he’s rolling his bare erection against your moist slit, purposely letting his own leaking tip rub against your throbbing bundle of nerves.
With your eyes squeezed shut in burning anticipation, you can’t see him, but you can hear the faint smirk in his voice.
“What is it, sweetheart?” his lips are suddenly at the skin under your ear, pressing soft kisses into the spot he plans to mark you next.
“You know what,” you whine, “Not so high up.” Even you can hear how half-hearted your plea is. You loved the rare occasion Zayne made it known exactly what he did to his favorite hunter, his most crucial patient, behind closed doors.
But you’d gotten so familiar with Zayne’s straight-edged professionalism that you were used to him leaving signs of himself on your body that only you’d be able to see. Areas that only the two of you would know he’d been. Where his lips had been.
“And why is that?” he chuckles, letting his lips ghost along your pulse, as if warning you what was to come if you didn’t plead your case.
You gasp when he grabs the base of his cock, purposely letting himself brush against your soaked entrance, but not letting himself enter–much to your dismay.
“H-Have to go to—ngh—go to Skyhaven tomorrow,” you whimper, “Meeting with Caleb and the F-Fleet to discuss Wanderer activity.”
Zayne pauses at your words, his entire body tensing ever so slightly as he presses himself forcefully into you, his muscles twitching against you.
Ah.
He collects himself instantly, his teeth nipping at your pulse in warning.
“Oh?” he says, as if he didn’t already know you’d be seeing Caleb tomorrow, likely having gotten your mission schedule from the Association. Doctors often had access to the files of all Hunters that were under their care.
“Even more reason to send you off with a few gifts for the Colonel.”
If his jealous possession didn’t turn you on so damn thoroughly you might’ve rolled your eyes and teased him. Tease him that he’d said the childhood rivalry between him and Caleb was one-sided. That he’d said he was above that petty jealousy.
But with Zayne’s cock wedged so tortuously between your legs, a burning path of love bites trailing from your neck to your breasts, his warm breath at your ear–you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but moan for more.
“You sound beautiful,” Zayne whispers thickly into your ear, before his lips descend and latch onto the soft skin above your nipple, “So perfect like this. Spread out for me, begging for more.”
He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your heaving chest, his mouth pulling into a faint smirk at the pretty little marks he’s left all over your soft skin. The sense of satisfaction he feels from watching your quivering form, chanting his name like a prayer. The satisfaction he got from knowing that he’d be the only one to see you like this, feel you like this. Now and forever.
The satisfaction from knowing that anyone who saw you would see exactly how thoroughly you belonged to him.
He shifts to give himself better access to you. To the spot between your legs that was reserved only for him.
Zayne positions himself, his tip at your aching entrance, his body coming down to hover over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes bore into yours, the gold flecks shining as he takes in your flushed features. His magnificent woman.
His fingers trace your jaw, carving an icy path down every beautiful mark, every searing claim. You yelp at the feeling of his Evol laced fingertips, body arching at the hypersensitivity of his frosty digits. But Zayne only presses you back down into the mattress.
“Tell me, love,” he whispers, his voice husky and gravelly with need, “Who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?”
Feeling rebellious, you refuse, “I’m not feeding into this ridiculous del–” You’re cut off by your own scream as Zayne’s fingertips close over your nipple, using his Evol to make his skin colder than it normally was. He repeats his demand, saying your name so tenderly–a stark contrast to his unforgiving touch that your body yearned for.
“Tell me.”
“Y-You!” you squeal as Zayne rolls your sensitive tip in his skillful torturous fingers.
“Who’s the only one who gets to hear you make these perfect little noises?” This time he punctuates his question by bringing his frozen fingers to your clit, pressing down, simultaneously holding your body down as it arches.
“Anngh–you. Only you! P-Please–!” you beg, not able to take the hypersensitivity, but not wanting him to pull away.
“So good for me,” Zayne murmurs, pressing his cock into you, just barely stretching you out, “And only me, right beautiful?”
Your eyes widen at the feeling of just his thick tip inside you. Your body arches, trying to receive more of him. He gently pushes you back down, his palm flat against your stomach.
You whine at his blatant denial, using your legs to try to trap his body against yours, pulling him closer so he had no choice but to push deeper.
“Oh g-god, yes!”
But Zayne remains steadfast, his strong muscled body unmoving. Instead, he gently grips your chin, bringing your eyes up to his.
“Say my name.”
Zayne thrusts shallowly, forcefully pulling the words from your lips and making you spill exactly what he wanted to hear.
“Nnngh–only yours, Zayne!” His name rolls off your tongue like music, earning you a low growl of approval from the man just barely inside you.
As if to reward you, he pushes himself fully inside of you, all the way to the hilt. He falls onto his elbows, rolling his hips with a passionate intensity that has you calling his name–over and over. With a torrid groan of your name, he desperately presses another blossoming bruise into your pulse. Right where everyone could see it.
“That’s right sweetheart. And everyone will know it.”
rafayel 祁煜
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,190
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, marking, spanking, kinda mentions of voyerism, raf on top but from the back, messy make out
You were a relatively flexible person.
By no means did you have the range of a gymnast or a professional dancer, but all things considered, you were decently limber for the average woman—dabbling in the occasional yoga and pilates.
But that did little to prepare you for the arch Rafayel was forcing you into, his hand gently gripping your hair for leverage, the other pushing you down lower.
He’d purposely put his massive ornate gold-rimmed mirror in front of his bed, forcing you to watch as he mounted you savagely from behind, his hips desperate to paint pretty flowering bruises into the plush of your ass.
Rafayel normally punished you with the silent treatment, or overt sass. But now?
He was punishing you with his insatiable body.
“You better not do that again,” the purple-haired artist groans from behind you, his voice much more demanding than you normally ever heard from him. His hips snap into you, your combined arousal dripping down the back of your thighs.
You can only moan back, every nerve end in your body burning with the pleasure delivered from Rafayel’s thick length inside of you, rendering you unable to think or speak clearly.
Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Rafayel tugs gently at your hair, forcing you to level with him in the reflection in the mirror. He looks devastatingly handsome, his purple wavy hair tousled, like he’d run his hair through it several times. His soft, blemish free, skin a beautiful shade of coral. The sapphire in his eyes eclipses the soft pinkish corals, as he gives into primitive instinct, making them nearly entirely blue.
“Tell me you won’t do that again.”
You whine, even in your cock-drunk state, you know exactly what he wants you to say.
Rafayel was just wrapping up a guest lecture circuit for the local universities, particularly their fine arts departments. He’d asked you to be his “assistant” to the last one, claiming he needed his precious bodyguard there if any of the students tried to kidnap him for ransom.
During a portrait exploration exercise, a student had asked you to model for his sketch. It seemed innocent enough, and you didn’t want to make Rafayel look bad by denying a student’s genuine request–being his guest on campus.
And apparently Rafayel did not like that.
“Raf–!” you rasp, doing your best to speak through the torrent of passionate thrusts, your broken voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of his skin slapping against yours.
“S-Slow down,” you whimper, unable to speak coherently, answer his demand, if he was fucking you this passionately.
“That’s not what I asked for, pretty girl,” Rafayel murmurs, his own voice nearly broken over how perfect your gummy walls convulse around him.
You squeal when he presses his palm harder down on the small over your back, making your ass arch even higher for him.
“You’re in no position to be making demands,” he pants, the hand in your hair abandoning your head to grab a fistful of your soft ass. He kneads it tenderly, eliciting a cry of pleasure from you, before releasing it.
Thwack!
Your eyes widen, a squeal erupting from your lips as Rafayel’s hand comes down to meet your rear in a harsh spank.
“Come on, baby,” he groans your name, halfway between a growl and a whine.
“W-Was jus’ a portrait sketch,” you reason, catching his heated gaze in the mirror. His perfectly arched eyebrow raises at you.
“You think I care?” Rafayel mutters, smacking your ass again, only this time it’s softer. Not punishing, but rather claiming. With the sole intent to mark you up. His.
“Unngh–you asked me t’come!” you slur, your entire body jolting with the force of his body pounding against yours.
“Yeah, to be my pretty little TA,” Rafayel protests, “Not someone else’s fucking inspiration!”
He slumps over you, forcing you deeper, his chest lightly pressed against your upper back, his lips pressed into your shoulder, nipping gently.
“Ngh–knew I should’ve kept you under my podium,” he grumbles, only half joking.
You give him a pointed look in the mirror, your face covered in sweaty strands of hair. Rafayel props himself above you with one arm, the other tenderly sweeping your hair out of your face. So he can see you properly.
You were his. Only his.
Even if it was just some unsuspecting university student.
Rafayel grabs your chin, turning your face so he can kiss you. You crane your neck towards him, letting him capture your lips aggressively, possessively.
It’s anything but a gentle tender kiss, but rather a dark claiming one. One where his tongue explores every inch of you, his teeth nipping your lips, swallowing your exquisite cries of pleasure.
When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects you to him. His fingers still gripping your chin, he turns you back to the mirror.
“You’re my muse. No one else gets to use you, innocent sketch or not.”
You nod submissively, inexplicably turned on by his jealous and possessive demeanor. Rafayel smiles at you through the reflection, a heated promise in his bi-colored eyes.
“Fuck—just like that, need to memorize every inch of you like this,” he moans, stroking your hair unbearably gently. As if he wasn’t rutting into you so viciously that his entire bed shook, the expensive wood legs of the frame scraping against the silk rug.
“You—mmmf—always say that,” you tease him, “Surprised you haven’t—ngh—haven’t created an entire map yet.”
Rafayel gives you an unamused look, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable Rafayel grimace.
”A map? No,” he lowers himself back to your shoulder, letting his warm breath tickle your neck. He leans his head against yours, his hips rolling like the tides of the ocean. Except maybe during a tsunami.
He laughs when you nearly collapse, his angry tip hitting your g-spot. He catches you, hooking his arm under your stomach before you can lose that beautiful arch.
“Raf—!” you moan, “Can’t…Can’t take much more.”
“Easy, cutie,” he kisses your ear, slowing his movements much to your dismay. It stifles your impending orgasm, making you whine in frustration.
“D-Don’t tease Rafayel!”
He lets out a breathy laugh, giving you a single languid thrust before slowing again.
“Well I can’t have you tapping out juuuust yet,” he smiles into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your pheromones, the left side of his chest burns as your scent clouds his brain.
“I need more time, if I’m going to commit this image to memory,” he whispers predatorily into your ear, directing your face back to the massive mirror. The image reflected is so unbearably lewd.
Rafayel’s muscles ripple as he quite literally mounts you. You look so filthily undone beneath him, your skin flushed and shining with sweat, lips swollen and slick.
”Going to make a mural of you, exactly like this,” Rafayel grins wickedly, delighted by the way your eyes widen with horror, before rolling back into themselves. “Cheeks flushed, perfect ass up, hair disheveled…All for me.”
He gives you another gentle spank, your poor cheek reddened and marked.
“Think that will inspire him?”
caleb 夏以昼
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 1,417
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight improper evol use, mentions of zayne, against the wall sex, kinda leash use, caleb puts his dogtag in reader’s mouth, hickeys, brat taming
Against the setting sun, Caleb’s silver dog tag casts dancing flashes of light on the wall of his bedroom. Sunsets in Skyhaven have always been so much more magnificent. The floor to ceiling windows allow the waning sun to paint the entire room in a brilliant orange glow, the light bouncing off the necklace he never took off.
The necklace that was now swinging wildly against your own naked chest with the force of Caleb’s desperate, forceful movements.
”C-Caleb, o-oh god,” you cry, nails digging painfully into him, an angry trail of red welts already littering his muscled back. He hisses at the sting, but it only makes him more feral, his pelvis slamming so violently into yours that the wall behind you nearly tremors with his raw strength.
“Yeah? Finally being sensible, princess? Ready to be a good girl for me?” Caleb grins, his words lacking any real bite, balancing you in one hand as he moves your hair to one shoulder.
You whine in indignation, knowing exactly what brought about his sudden attitude.
A certain raven haired surgeon you both knew all too well.
It would be adorable if it wasn’t making him so damn animalistic right now. But who were you kidding—you loved it. Loved him like this.
“Y-You were in important Fleet briefings all day,” you pant through the moans, his cock spearing up into you as he holds you firmly to the wall.
He presses ravenous kisses to your jaw, his fist balling as it propped himself against the wall. “And? All you have to do is ask and I’ll have someone stand in for me.”
“You’re the Colonel–mmngh–you can’t just drop your duties every time I n-need someone to pick me up!”
“Fuck– so damn tight,” Caleb groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he ruts into you savagely, “and who says I can’t?”
There’s a childish and challenging lilt to his gravelly voice, squeezing your ass with his right hand, leaving flourishing bruises behind. If that arm couldn’t feel you, it’d sure as hell leave reminders he was there.
Your eyes roll back, from the pleasure or Caleb’s ridiculousness, you’re unsure.
“It was right next to the hospital,” you whine, squealing when Caleb takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth, “Mmngh–Zayne was a-already there!”
Caleb’s rhythm doesn’t falter for a second at the sound of that name rolling off your tongue. In fact, it seems to only make him more determined. More feral.
He holds your jaw in his fingers, his violet eyes glowing with a cautionary sparkle. The cool metal of his dog tag rattles against your bodies, pressed together and slick with sweat.
“I would’ve been there too. If you called me,” he murmurs petulantly, his face transforming into that classic wet-puppy face that Caleb so expertly used to get his way with you.
But the contrast of his adorable face to his downright filthy thrusts helps you stay clear-minded against his charms. Well, as clear-minded as you could be when he was being like this.
“Caleb, you’re being unrea—oh god!” you whimper, his fingers meanly pinching your clit, purposely trying to make you lose your train of thought, “U-Unreasonable!”
He pulls your chin to him, enveloping you in a feverish kiss, no doubt trying to get you to give in to his jealous little whims. When he pulls away, he tilts your chin up to look into the burning galaxy in his irises.
“You’re my girl. Call me next time, okay baby?” His tone, commanding–nearly a growl, betrays his deceptively sweet words.
You continue trying to reason with him, clawing desperately at the thick ropes of muscles in his back, “You w-were in Skyhaven! Would’ve been—angghh—been waiting for hours!”
Caleb presses warning kisses into your neck, his teeth nipping hard enough to leave marks. He takes one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers slowly.
”Personal aircraft. Did you forget? Even after you rode me that one t–”
You whine in embarrassment, cutting him off with a poignant roll of your hips, “Ngh–Caleb! Y-You can't possibly fly a whole ass plane to Linkon every time Zayne tries to–”
Caleb interrupts your words with a growl, hips slowing down tortuously. His fingers wrap gently around your neck, his head tilted as he stares down at you.
“Really? You’re going to keep saying his name when you’re crying out for me? For this?”
To punctuate his lightly veiled threat, he ruts particularly viciously, your entire body sliding up the wall. He presses against you so tightly that you shudder, the cool metal of his necklace like ice against your singed skin. His hand brushes along your naval, where he can feel his cock hammering in and out. He presses down, eliciting a beautiful scream from you.
“God, you’re such a brat today,” he growls heatedly in your ear, his hand abandoning your stomach, threading with your fingers again. He raises your joined palms above your head, pushing them into the wall, giving him a bit more leverage as he tries to use his cock to make you forget anyone’s name but his.
Particularly that of your beloved doctor.
“I’m the brat?!” you say incredulously. He cuts you off, hammering until you can nearly feel him in your throat, but you don’t stop, “Y-You’re the brat! Still letting Zayne get under y–mmmf!”
Irritated at your unending talk of Zayne, his dog tag still swinging annoyingly with the force of his thrusts, Caleb cuts you off again. Using one hand to balance you, his free fingers place the tag of his bouncing silver necklace in between your lips. The cool metal brushes against your tongue and you whine as he squeezes your jaw, making it difficult to release it.
“Only name I want to hear from you is mine,” he murmurs, voice deceptively soft. He smirks when your eyes roll back, his tag still between your pouty lips. Something about the sight of you, his claim in your mouth, your eyes nearly white with the sheer force of pleasure only he can give you? It sends him dangerously close to losing all control.
Caleb’s fist slams into the wall next to your head, gasping out a string of expletives, his hips stuttering with the overwhelming emotions he feels when he looks at you. Taking a deep breath, he tries to collect himself, not quite ready to give you your release. His fist softens, stroking the chain of the necklace as it dangles from your mouth toward his chest.
“You gonna be good?” he coos your name, his smooth, heated voice doing little to betray how dangerously close he is to coming undone into your impossibly tight heat.
You give him a rebellious glare, your eyes saying no. You were this close to being cock drunk and giving in to enabling his possessive behavior, but you did your damned best to hold onto your pride.
Caleb chuckles darkly, freeing your chin which lets you drop the metal tag from between your teeth. He catches it in his fingertips, stroking the damp steel, his wordlessness feeling almost sinister.
You yelp when your neck is yanked towards him, close enough that you can feel his threatening breath against your lips, a dangerous glint in his eyebrow-shadowed eyes.
At first you think it’s his Evol, both his hands still occupied–one gripping the dog tag and the other gripping your ass. But at the slight sting at your nape, you realize you’d completely missed him slipping the gifted necklace over your neck. That he probably with his Evol.
And now he was using it like a leash, pulling you toward him like he owned you.
You gasp when he tilts his head, still gripping the necklace gently, your back slamming into the wall as he fucked into you with renewed vigor. He inhales your choked breath as his own, wanting to consume you entirely.
With his Evol, he holds you flush against the wall, using one hand to guide you with the pull of the silver jewelry, the other cupping your cheek, thumb stroking your jaw.
“I hope you don’t have any more plans this weekend. Especially not with Zayne.”
His hand slides from your jaw to your neck again, squeezing in a way that has not only your throat constricting but also your cunt, in pure thrill.
“We’re going to be here until the only name you remember is mine. Now be a good girl and be quiet, yeah?”
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
Zayne recovers from his high quicker than you. As your chest is still rising and falling whilst trying to catch your breath, he’ll quickly go and get you a glass of water knowing that you’ll definitely need to rehydrate. He’ll also make sure you go pee to prevent any UTIs. He’s a doctor, obviously he’ll be on top of that kind of thing. But after that, he realizes you’re both sweaty and kinda gross after doing the deed, so he’ll run a warm bath and light your favorite scented candles in the bathroom. He’d get in the tub first and hold out his hand to you and help you in, laying your body against his as he gently began to wash your backside. After your bath the two of you would get into bed together with a dim lamp on. I like to think that Zayne does some reading before bed, so you would be lying against him as he put his glasses on and reads a couple chapters of his favorite novel. Eventually, you’d fall asleep on him and when he notices this he’d pull the covers a little higher on you so you don’t get cold. When Zayne’s had his fill of his book, he’d turn off the light and slide further under the covers with you. He would sleepily take your hand in his, interlace your fingers, and softly kiss your hand before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you.
Caleb holds you close after having finished rearranging your insides first thing in the morning. He couldn’t help it— feeling your soft body pressed up against him as soon as he woke up gave him a severe case of morning wood. Your chest rapidly rises and falls as you try to catch your breath, so he has you sit in his lap (while he’s still inside you) and lays your head against his chest while you recover. You manage to fall asleep again, but when you woke up he was gone. But there was a delicious scent in the air…..smelled like…bacon? You hopped out of bed, and lazily put on a silk robe you had, walking barefoot to the kitchen where you found a shirtless Caleb making breakfast for the both of you. “Mornin’ Pips.” he’d say as he handed you a plate. You two would eat together, and he’d probably drag you into the shower with him as well. He would gently massage the areas he knew that he might have been extra rough on that morning. Yeah, aftercare with Caleb would be a great way to start the day.
Xavier…. I wanna say that he would fall asleep holding you while still inside of you, but I’ll go a different route with this. I think since his sleep schedule is so messed up, your “activities” probably took place in the dead of night, probably at like 2-3 in the morning or so. You had gone over to his place with a pizza around midnight and had been ready to watch movies till the sun came up, but clearly things went in a different direction. Xavier would lazily slip out of bed to go reheat the pizza that had been left to go cold, and brought it back to the bed. He would have you sit between his legs as he gently rubbed your thighs, soothing any aches or pains that were sure to make an appearance later on. We all know this man has got to be a beast in the sheets. While he was doing that, you had a pizza slice in one hand and the TV remote in the other as you searched for a movie to watch. The two of you carried on with your original plans to watch movies till the sun came up, and fell asleep around sunrise.
Rafayel would be peppering your whole face and body with kisses. You would still be coming down from your high when it began, he’d start with kisses between your thighs where he may have left a bite mark or two. Between each kiss he would whisper something about how beautiful your body is, like a work of art. How he wanted every detail of your body etched into his memory forever. He would leave a trail of kisses from your thighs to your hips, your stomach, between your breasts, your collarbone, your neck, jawline, and forehead. He’d place the last kiss on his favorite place to kiss you, your soft and voluptuous lips. He might get carried away, deepening the kiss until— uh oh! Looks like he’s getting hard again. Forget aftercare, looks like it’s time for round two!
Sylus. You guys totally would have been getting it on in the shower. He’s rich, so I can imagine he would have one of those showers that have a bench in them to sit on, so he has you sit between his legs on there as warm water sprays you two from above. You had cleaned yourself up earlier, but then he joined the shower and got you all hot and sweaty again… This time, he’d wash you himself. He took a few pumps of your favorite body wash in his hands as he tenderly lathered your body, being extra careful on certain areas (like your plump ass, which had burning red marks of his large handprints on both cheeks). There would probably be faint jazz music playing as you sat in comfortable silence, allowing Sylus to wash you. When he was done, he’d turn off the water and helped you out of the shower before helping you dry off and slip into your fluffy robe and fuzzy slippers. He would push a piece of your dripping hair out of your face before capturing your wet lips on his. You always felt so taken care of with Sylus.
——————
A/N: I VERY much enjoyed writing this one. Hope y’all liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. NOT PROOF READ, js like all my other works 😛
Thinking about SYLUS’S cock, it’s a sturdy 8.1 inches, Heavy and warm as he positions himself between your thighs, his cock presses against you, sending shivers down your spine. It's thick enough to make your breath hitch, long enough to stretch your pussy until you're gasping his name like a prayer. He wouldn't just fuck you—he'd worship you, savoring every shudder, every moan, every way your body reacts to him, especially when his cock brushes against your clit. “Too much?” His voice is low and teasing, but there's genuine concern beneath it as he watches you, waiting for your response.
You whimper in response, fingers digging into the sheets. Too much? No—never. You want it, want to feel him fill you completely, to be ruined in the way only he can. “More,” you whisper, your voice wrecked with need. A sharp inhale from above, his red eyes dark with hunger. Then a low, approving chuckle as his hands grip your hips, anchoring you in place. “Greedy little thing,” he murmurs. “Then take all of it.”
With that, he pushes inside you, slowly at first, savoring every inch as he stretches your cunt to your limits. You arch your back, gasping at the exquisite pressure, craving more of him. Each thrust is deliberate and powerful, filling you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting.
Thinking about XAVIER’S cock, it’s a solid 6.1 inches, long and thick, just right for making you feel completely filled. He doesn’t have pubic hair. Each thrust brings the head of his cock brushing against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His neatly groomed pubic hair accentuates the smoothness of his shaft, adding a touch of allure that matches his refined, enigmatic demeanor.
“Does it feel good, babe?” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, locking eyes with you as he gauges your reaction. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart race, and you can barely manage a nod, breathless and yearning. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely, each movement deliberate and powerful, stretching your pussy in all the right ways. The friction ignites every nerve ending, and you can't help but moan softly, lost in the intoxicating rhythm as his cock brushes against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
As he drives into you, the combination of his length and girth leaves you gasping for more, craving the delicious friction and the way he fills you completely. Each thrust pulls you closer to the edge, and you find yourself eagerly pushing back against him, wanting to feel every inch of him deep inside you, surrendering to the pleasure he brings.
Thinking about CALEB’S cock, it’s a powerful 7.8 inches, thick and deliciously girthy, filling you completely with every thrust. His pubic hair is a bit scruffy, giving him a rugged edge that’s both enticing and inviting. The way he fills you makes your body hum with pleasure, and the sensation has you gasping for more.
“G—God, you feel amazing,” he breathes, his voice rough with desire as he looks deep into your eyes. Each thrust of his cock pushes you closer to the edge, and you can’t help but moan loudly, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure he brings to your pussy. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he urges, and you find yourself begging for more, craving the intoxicating heat of his body against yours as he drives deeper, the sensation of him stretching you making you dizzy with need.
“C—Caleb, please, don’t stop,” you manage to plead, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, and pushes deeper, each movement deliberate and powerful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he drives his cock into your pussy, your body responding eagerly to every thrust. “Let me hear you,” he urges, and you find yourself surrendering completely, crying out with each stroke, feeling your climax building with every moment. The combination of his size and the intensity of his movements sends—you spiraling toward ecstasy, and you can't help but beg for more as pleasure washes over you in waves.
Thinking about ZAYNE’S cock, it’s a firm 7 inches, thick but refined—like everything else about him. He keeps himself neatly trimmed, just a hint of dark hair at the base, well-groomed but not overdone. He’s precise in every touch, every thrust, his surgeon’s hands gripping your thighs with practiced control, spreading you open so he can sink into you slowly, letting you feel every inch.
“You’re taking me so well,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost clinical, but there’s a rough edge to it, a crack in that cold professionalism that only you get to hear. His pace is measured at first—calculated, like he’s testing how much your pussy can handle. With each slow thrust of his cock, he watches your reactions, taking in every moan and shudder. But the moment he hears you gasp, the moment you clench down around him, it’s like a switch flips.
His restraint snaps, and suddenly he’s fucking you deeper and harder, his cock driving into you with an intensity that steals—your breath away. Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you to the brink, and you can feel your tits bouncing in time with his movements. He relishes the sight, his smirk widening as he sees how much you’re enjoying it.
“Breathe,” he instructs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I want you conscious when you fall apart for me.” The raw command in his voice makes your heart race, and you know you’re about to lose yourself completely in the overwhelming pleasure of him filling you, the heat of his body against yours, and the way he drives his cock into your pussy with relentless precision.
Thinking about RAFAYEL’S cock, it’s a well-owned 6.8 inches, long and just thick enough to stretch you perfectly without overwhelming you. He’s naturally well-groomed, his pubic hair soft and well-kept, a little messy but effortlessly attractive—just like him. There’s a wildness to the way he touches you, a raw passion that burns as intensely as the art he creates. “You feel so damn good,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
His grip is firm as he pulls your hips flush against his, ensuring you take every inch of his cock. His strokes are deep and slow at first, deliberate, as he savors the way pleasure ripples through your body, coaxing you into a trembling mess beneath him. “Rafayel, please—” you whimper, your voice breaking as he presses deeper, his cock nudging right against your cervix, sending electric sparks of ecstasy racing up your spine. “Yeah?” he smirks, his amber eyes burning with a mix of heat and arrogance, a glint of mischief playing at the corners of his mouth. “Then beg for it, babe.”
With your body arching and your voice shaking, you plead for him, desperation lacing your words. And when he hears that need in your tone, he finally gives in, fucking you with all the reckless passion and intensity he's known for. Each thrust is relentless, a fierce collision that pushes you closer to the edge as he drives his cock into your pussy, the pressure building deliciously. His movements brush against your clit with every powerful stroke, igniting waves of pleasure that leave you gasping for more, completely at his mercy as he takes you higher and higher.
cw: soft sex, office sex, desk sex, unprotected sex, fucking cum in womb, crying, soft!zayne, he loves his wife sm
Imagine soft sex with Zayne:(
Your back laid against his desk, legs wrapped around his hips as he slowly thrust his gritty cock inside your warm pussy. Feeling the gushing of his cum inside your womb as he fucks it deeper.
He's so gentle towards you-- not wanting to hurt you in any cause.
Your soft cries and whimpers filled the office and you tried to muffle it by covering your mouth-- but he stopped you, pulling your hand away as he intertwined it with his.
He leans closer--your filled marks chest pressed against his as Zayne places soft kisses on your face. Kissing your tears away with his soft lips while caressing your cheek with his left hand-- the coldness of the silver band touches your warm skin.
"hah--...please..I want to hear your sweet voice, my l-love..." He whispers against your ear, making your breath hitch as you nod in response.
He pulls you into a heated kiss-- tongue explored inside of your mouth earning a soft moan from you in between. You can't help but melt to his warmth.
Feeling his cock thrusting slowly inside, his hand reached to your aching pussy as he rub circles against your hardened clit-- making your toes curl as your hand soothe along the back of his hair.
You felt fuzzy inside as he pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting to both of your lips as he looks at you with his eyes-- filled with love and admiration.
You can't help but feel a warm feeling inside-- your heart fluttering in awe. A soft smile tugs his lips as he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face and place a soft kiss against your forehead.
🌙 How the LADS guys fall asleep with you (read first!)
CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut
✨️Rafayel wakes up with you still against his back, still holding onto your arm that’s been draped across his waist. He’s suddenly aware of the sensation of your breasts pressed up against his back and can feel himself becoming engorged. He reaches his hand down and can feel how solid he’s become already. Rafayel tries to slide his hand down his pants, but your arm over his waist stops him from being able to stroke himself. He pulls his pajama pants down, his dick instantly flinging upwards to his stomach from being so hard. He winces with nervousness as it ends up grazing your fingertips. When he sees that you haven’t reacted to that, or to him rubbing your fingers, he decides to use the situation to his advantage. In desperation of needing to touch himself, he puts his hand on top of yours, lacing his fingers between the empty spaces. Taking control of your hand, he uses it to start stroking himself. He groans out loud at the sensation of your warm hand on him, shaking with desperation of wanting to finish before you wake up.
You wake up to the sensation of something firm both on the back of your hand, and inside your hand. With a groggy brain, it takes you a minute to realize Rafayel is using your hand to jerk himself off. You start to lean up and ask what he’s doing, when you hear him whisper with a shaky voice. He begs you to just let him finish. Begs you to let him keep using your hand like this, and how he’s so close now. He promises to make it up to you, when his voice gets cut off by his voice starting to crack, getting so close to the edge…
✨️Zayne wakes up still holding you, he held you relentlessly through the night. He smells the sweet scent of your hair and feels his body pressed against yours. As with most mornings, especially because he doesn’t find much time to relieve himself, he is already hard. But with you here, his erection is fully pressed up against your ass. His head cringes with pleasure before he pulls his thoughts back together. Because he’s been holding you and one arm is trapped underneath you, if he moved it would wake you up. So with his free hand on your waist, he slowly and carefully slides his fingers below your waistband, shimmying it down slowly and patiently. He manages to pull your pants down enough to slide himself between your thighs. He nearly sighs out loud with pleasure but quickly covers his mouth. Feeling himself squeezed between the slight gap between your thighs and underwear makes him start throbbing and twitching. At first he slides in and out of the space slowly and rhythmically until he realizes he can feel your underwear getting moist. Zayne is slowly losing patience and caring less about holding back.
You wake up to the feeling of Zayne pulling you tightly back against him and his engorged dick rubbing against your underwear. When he realizes you’re awake, he loses all restraint. He reaches down and pulls your underwear aside, sliding his cock between all your folds, dragging your wetness across everything. His engorged tip starts rubbing against your clit, making you more and more wet, squelching with each pull back and thrust. You moan out loud, turning Zayne on even more. He whispers in your ear to not move as he inches closer and closer to his release…
✨️Xavier watched over you all night. Still facing each other, he wakes up and smiles to see you resting peacefully, still laying on your side facing him. His eyes roam around, taking in the view of you sleeping, when he looks down and realizes that your oversized pajama shirt has gotten pulled down in your sleep. Your cleavage taunting him out in the open, your breasts barely being contained within the fabric. He swallows hard and feels himself throbbing. Eyes locked onto you in an almost hypnotic way, all reason starts to leave him as his desires take over. With his fingertip he gently pulls the neckline of your shirt down. He quietly gasps with surprise, since he barely touched it before the weight of your breasts fell out and over the collar. Xavier carefully shifts himself down, kissing the skin of your breasts and peeking up at you. When he sees that you aren’t reacting, he kisses your nipple. His eyes dart up at you again, getting the confirmation he needs to go ahead. The tip of Xavier’s hot tongue presses against your nipple, instantly causing it to harden. When he feels this, his dick hardens fully and instantly. He licks and takes your nipple into his mouth, his gentle sucking muffling his moans. With his free hand he grabs your other breast and gently circles your nipple with it, feeling that one harden as well.
✨️Sylus wakes up on his back to see you still laying against his right side, your head still on his chest. His eyes gaze down further to see that he already has a bulge forming in his pants. A wave of pleasure and urgency washes over him, because before he knows it, his left hand has reached across and started rubbing your nipple through your shirt. He can hear you softly moaning in your sleep, turning him on even more. His right hand slides down your backside, feeling your curves and your skin where your shirt has slid up on your back. His hand slides down your pants, and since his arms and fingers are so long, he is able to reach down to your folds. With the tips of his fingers he can already feel wetness starting to pool. He delicately pushes his fingers up and into your opening, soaking his fingers in your hot wetness. He closes his eyes with pleasure and uses his left hand to start stroking himself, matching the speed of his strokes to the speed of his fingers going in and out of you. In a way, he can almost imagine being inside of you.
You wake up to the feeling of pleasure tingling in your head. Your eyes open, but it takes you a moment to look down and see him sucking at your nipples. You gasp and start to say his name in surprise, when you see his piercing blue eyes shoot up at you. He shoves his thigh up in your crotch, pulling it back and forth to rub against you. You moan out loud and look back down at Xavier in desperation. You see him lick his thumb, saliva trailing from it, and uses that thumb to continue circling your other nipple as he uses the tip of his tongue to massage the one by his lips. He tells you he’s just getting started, that he needed to get you nice and wet so that when he fucks you in a minute he can slide in nice and easy…
You instantly wake up upon feeling his long fingers entering you, and your eyes immediately fixate on his fingers gripping his cock. You look up at Sylus with surprise, causing him to chuckle deviously. He pulls his fingers out of you, using your wetness to run his fingers back and forth from your clit to your opening to taunt you. He asks if you’d like to feel even more pleasure while you lay back and relax. Sylus says he’ll take care of everything…
How LADS men react to finding you in their kitchen just standing and eating cheese at 3am
I got this request and just went "this one. I want to do this one." and so here we are!
Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb
Sylus
As we know, he doesn't sleep at night. By that logic, you're in the kitchen WITH him eating cheese.
"I don't understand, why do you like eating cheese at 3am?" "What's wrong with eating cheese?" "No, that's not the part I'm confused about.."
Luke and Kieran would definitely join you guys in the kitchen, it became a little family supper!
Xavier
He's a heavy sleeper.. but he notice quite fast when you're not with him in bed.
Sleepily walks into the dark kitchen that was only illuminated by the fridge light.
"What.. what are you doing..?" "Xavier! You surprised me!" "That's my line..."
Rafayel
He probably has messy sleeping schedule too, painting and chasing deadlines.
When there's a noise from his kitchen, he sets his paintbrush down and called out your name.
"Cutie, did you hear that..?" "..." "Cutie?" "...Hey." "What is wrong with you!!?"
Zayne
I FEEL SO BAD. THIS MAN NEEDS HIS SLEEP. So imagine his surprise when there's suddenly noises from the kitchen.
Calms down after he notice you were gone and were probably being a little rat again.
"I didn't know I needed to set rat traps all over the kitchen." "Zayne! How dare!"
Caleb
He puppy. He follow you wherever you go.
You suddenly get out of bed without saying anything? Oh he's getting out of bed too then. Whatever the emergency is, he shall help you. That includes devouring a block of cheese at three am.
"Should I make grilled cheese?" "Oh, yes please!!! Thank you!" "I am your personal chef after all."
Their Favorite Underwear (On You) —♡ LADS Headcanons
—♡Summary: They certainly have interesting preferences, that's for sure.
—♡Tags: NSFW, suggestive, sex implied, afab!reader, no pronouns used, fingering, panty sniffing/licking
—♡A/N: done staring at this I'm throwing it out into the wild
—♡ masterlist
—♡ Caleb
Caleb’s favorite pair of underwear on you is somewhat an innocent pick. A worn out pair of cotton panties you’ve had since high school.
They have some kind of pattern—either horizontal stripes, flowers, a repeating print of the cookie monster—doesn’t matter, he loves it all.
They remind him of simpler times—laundry day when you were younger—and how they’d get caught up in his own load by accident. You’d flush bright red when he stopped by your door to drop them off, but he’d just throw his head back with a laugh and tell you it's fine.
He’s never told you how close he came to pocketing them instead.
In the present, he’s found himself on laundry duty again. The colonel is dumping your basket of dirty clothes into the washer when a familiar pair of cotton panties fall in.
He doesn’t even bother looking around; Caleb reaches for them, breath hitching when he realizes they’re the same pair from before. He can’t believe you still have them. You really ought to buy some new clothes…
Something dark—hot—coils in his belly when he turns the gusset inside out and lifts the fabric to his trembling lips.
It smells divine—a little on the tangy side, but he’ll make sure you drink more water from here on out.
Then his tongue finally laps at the inner lining, and Caleb’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head.
His hips jerk against the washing machine just thinking about sinking his tongue into your actual—
Your voice abruptly floats down the hall, some question he can barely hear, and Caleb tells you he’ll be right there.
Perhaps he will pocket these for later, after all…
—♡ Xavier
Xavier’s favorite pair of underwear on you…is actually his own.
His boxer briefs are basically yours at this point.
When you sleep over and need a change of clothes, he just lets you borrow his; which is how you end up in an oversized shirt and boxer briefs in the first place.
Seeing you in his clothes is a thrill of its own, but seeing you in his underwear?
It’s an entirely new level of intimacy that has his ears burning red and his slow heart skipping a beat.
You wouldn’t wear just anyone’s underwear to bed, you’re wearing his.
He gets oddly clingy when you do, sliding in behind you in bed and nuzzling your shoulder as you scroll through your phone.
You make some comment about a post you saw, but he’s hardly listening. Instead, his hand is sliding down your hip, stroking the fabric of his underwear and the heat of your skin. It brings a soft smile to his lips.
Xavier can’t help but think the slit of his boxer briefs is silly on you, sliding his fingers inside to gently stroke your pubes. It’s usually innocent, he just likes the texture.
But the hitch of your breath darkens his gaze, and Xavier gently coaxes you to continue scrolling as his hand sinks lower…
He hums in response to your little moan, fingers curling up into your slick heat. His other hand reaches around to take the phone out of your faltering grip and slams it against the nightstand.
Xavier’s selfish, he admits—he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else while you’re wearing his clothes, his underwear…
You need to borrow another pair of boxer briefs by the time he’s done with you.
—♡ Zayne
Zayne’s favorite pair of underwear on you is not one you expected—thongs. He’s secretly crazy for them. Well, that might be an overstatement—but he enjoys the sight of you in them very much.
You’re surprised to learn about Zayne’s preference, though he doesn’t readily disclose it at first. You have to feign trouble picking between two sets of underwear first, and shove your phone into his face for an opinion.
“...The one on the right.” The cool response is only betrayed by a fervent blush on his cheeks.
He likes slipping his fingers under the thin string, teasing and tugging. It leaves very little to the imagination; straight to the point.
Your order comes in, and Zayne secretly watches you slide them up your legs as you both get ready for a banquet. It’s all his mind keeps wandering back to throughout the night.
Not only are you wearing underwear he picked out, but you’re wearing them to mingle with his colleagues. A rather distracting thought, isn’t it?
At one point during the night, you bend over to grab something, and the lack of a panty line reminds Zayne all over again what you’re sporting underneath.
He approaches calmly, interrupting a conversation with his colleagues by wrapping an arm around your waist.
His excuse to leave early is well thought out—you suspect he’s had it in mind since arriving—but you’re barely listening when his hand wanders low.
It slides down your backside, and he absently thumbs the string of your thong through the fabric of your dress.
…The car ride home is a short one, to say the least.
—♡ Sylus
If you asked Sylus, he’d say he prefers you in no underwear at all.
But, if he had to choose, he’s rather fond of a simple red lace. Comfortable, practical, sexy.
Not to mention, red is absolutely your color. The fact that it’s his too is merely a…happy coincidence.
When he’s stocking up your closet in the N109 zone, Sylus makes sure to order only the best luxury brands exclusively in various shades of red.
The idea of you sauntering around base in his color is enough to make him purr at the sight of you, even when your underwear isn’t visible.
He makes a game out of guessing what pair you have on; is it the scarlet one with bows? Or perhaps the strappy maroon?
Sylus finds out at dinner; you’re laughing at some ridiculous story when you uncross your legs, and there’s a flash of vermilion underneath your skirt.
The one with heart cutouts? My my, you only wear that one when you want something…
His eyes roam you up and down as you continue your story, but you stumble over your words when a swirling red mist drags your chair closer to his.
You were quite bold for wearing such a bright color in public, and if anyone other than him was to catch sight of it…
Well, we can’t have that, can we?
Your breath hitches when his hand roams your thigh, smug eyes never leaving yours. His calloused fingers ghost the hem of your skirt, and your words trail off in anticipation of what’s to come next.
Sylus grips the fabric and tugs your skirt…down.
Your face burns as he leans back with a chuckle, “You were saying?
—♡ Rafayel
Rafayel’s favorite pair of underwear? Brazilian panties, next question.
They sit high above your hip bones while accentuating the curve of your tummy; absolutely divine.
Of course, you look divine in everything; hell, you’d look perfect in only a seashell to cover your modesty. But something about the aesthetic of these panties, specifically, gets him insanely hot and bothered.
He brings you back gifts from his trip overseas, but he flushes and fervently denies having anything to do with the three pairs of panties tucked behind the body lotions and skincare.
Rafayel quickly changes his tune when you suggest modelling them for him, though.
That’s how you end up changing into them right then and there, a minty lace pair with a little satin rose sewn to the front. You rejoin Rafayel, who’s been waiting patiently on his bed.
Rafayel can’t speak, only tugs the back of your thigh closer as he swallows thickly.
Your pubes peek out the sides due to the nature of the design, and you make an offhand comment about shaving the next time you wear them. Rafayel immediately shakes his head—as if offended—and grips the sides of your hips, thumbs hiking the side wings further up.
He flushes, and his nostrils flare right before he lowers his head to lick a stripe up your lace front.
His tongue burns through the fabric, and the Lemurian lets out a shuddering breath against your stomach. You barely register the chill down your spine when he licks you again, this time his teeth catching on the waistband.
You never get to try the other two pairs on for him…
Hi! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.. so please ignore if not interested! ♡
the roles are reversed and you are their favorite character and the LADS boys are the player! That’s all I hope you have a good day/night!~ 💗
When They're The MC- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
genre: slight suggestive content below otherwise fluff !
a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much for requesting this was such a cute request (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope this was alright and if it wasn't pretend it doesnt exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) otherwise i hope to see you again soon anonnie ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆
Xavier:
Xavier is the type of player to listen to your secret times or tender moments and fall asleep listening to your voice. He likes to imagine you’re right beside him before he falls into his peaceful slumber.
However he does get hard listening to your suggestive audio or scenes that play out.
Spends most of his time grinding out materials for your memories so your character is strong when he reaches end game. Almost has your DeepSpace Trial finished and your affinity level maxed.
Ignores all the calls and text messages of the other main leads except yours.
When he runs out of content for you in the game, he would find solitude on watching edits or reading fanfics of you until the game finally updates its lore for you. Sometimes he'll replay the kindle moments of his favorite cards of you, which is literally all of them.
Zayne:
Nobody expected Zayne to be the type to play this game and at first, neither did he. But he downloaded the game out of curiosity and ended up playing until he reached the end game.
He has your affinity almost maxed out while the rest of the other leads are lower level. He would know all of your lore and has read all of your anecdotes without skipping them for the gems.
Uses the quality time to keep track of his studies but he can’t help but often glance at his screen and find you glancing back at him as well.
He has the Aurum Pass Premium and saves all of his diamonds for your upcoming banners. Does not even bother checking any of the other main leads in the game unless the banner included you
He ONLY plays this game in his room or whenever he's alone. Even though he has his headphones in, he can't help but look around to make sure nobody heard any of your suggestive sounds that sounded like a breathy moan. His ears would turn so red and he can't help but find his hand sliding down his pants
Rafayel:
The type of player that took hours customizing his character to make sure it looks exactly like him. He spends a lot of time with his character and yours in the photo booth. He tries to do a lot of glitches so it looks like you guys are kissing or hugging or him hitting it from the back.
The type that never lets you have a turn at the claw machine. If you managed to have a turn first, he’s IMMEDIATELY requesting to have the next turn. Yes, he thinks your pout is cute whenever you don’t get the plushie but he is NOT wasting any affinity points.
He would use all of his daily emojis just to talk to you and pokes you a lot in the cafe until you get annoyed.
The type to make the most beautiful fanart of you and make the most entertaining edits of you on social media. The type to freak out when he hears your solo banner is coming. He’s literally kicking his feet and rolling around in his bed in excitement
Sylus:
Sylus wasn’t interested in the game at first until your trailer kept popping up and out of curiosity and interest in your character, he decided to try it.
He became the BIGGEST spender when it comes to only your character. He would have all your cards maxed out from the levels and to the protocores. Each card he has of you would be ranked up to level 3 and most of your five stars are awakened. He has all your outfits and all of your poses.
However he would have the biggest frown on his face when he loses his pity the first couple of pulls. That’s not going to stop him until he has all your memories.
He is the type to tease your character by touching you a lot in the cafe to the point you're crossing your arms with a pout and your cheeks are flushed.
Spends a while in the photobooth to stare at your chest or you characters butt. Shamelessly tries to do a couple dirty glitches and the thought of you being real wouldn't leave his mind
Synopsis: You’ve always been insecure of your chest size. Even an ass man appreciates nice tits… What if you’re no longer attractive to them when they see you for the first time? The boys are VERY eager to put your worries to rest.
AN: As a member of the itty bitty titty committee myself and realizing I can embrace my free will as an author, I wrote this for my itty bitty girlies. Also, it’s just hot imaging the boys thumbing nipples like thumbsticks on a gamepad. Cover picture is Queen Zendaya btw :)
Content Warnings: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus all basically try to suck your soul out through your tits, a shit ton of nipple play, they do be worshiping ya body, angst, body insecurities, medical references, mentions of plastic surgery, alcohol, explicit language, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 9.1k
“Your fingernails are going to fall off if you keep biting them like that.”
Zayne’s voice snapped you back to the present. He hadn’t even looked up from the folder in his hand. You drop your hand from your mouth and stuff both hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. You continue picking at your nails now that Zayne can’t scrutinize your bad habit.
“Stop picking at your nails.”
How does he always know? You remove them from your pocket and fold your hands in your lap. You squeeze your hands as tightly as you can to distract yourself. Zayne has been your doctor for some time, check-ups were not new, but your relationship is. You had officially become Zayne’s girlfriend a few weeks ago and while things were going well, you had both decided to take things slow when it came to anything physical. Making out and sleeping in the same bed while holding onto each other was as far as you’d gone.
“Go ahead and change into a gown, please.”
Your breath caught in your throat, a subtle gasp echoing in through the small office. You straighten up and clear your throat trying to cover up your embarrassment. Zayne looks up at you before placing the folder on his desk. He walks over and places his hands on either side of your thighs on the examination table. His thumbs lightly stroking your thighs to stop your jittery legs from shaking.
“My love, you’ve been anxious all morning. What’s wrong?”
Your heart melts at his nickname for you, he’s always telling you how much he adores you. And he can always tell when you’re upset. He doesn’t back down until you talk to him and he can help you work through the problem.
“It’s just… I didn’t think we would have to do a full exam. Usually you just listen to my heart and do a quick EKG.”
“Yes, but the last echocardiogram and MRI was a year ago. We need to check for any changes.”
A year ago, Zayne had been at a conference and you had done those exams with another doctor. You remember feeling awkward then, exposed and uncomfortable. But your heart condition had to be monitored thoroughly or you’d be let go from the Association so you dealt with it. But now, with Zayne back you were feeling a wave of anxiety that was… different.
“Do I have to put on the gown?”
Zayne cocked his head, scanning your face in an attempt to understand your worries.
“If your bra has any wiring it will disrupt the tests and damage the machine. It is also optimal for the electrocardiogram so we can place more electrodes and get a clearer reading. And the gel we use for the echocardiogram would ruin the fabric.”
He explained everything so effortlessly. Even if you had worn a wireless bra, which of course you didn’t because you needed all the help you could get, you would still have to remove it for the other tests. You felt your heart pound and your stomach drop as you thought about Zayne seeing you topless. And it wasn’t the “excited and sexy” kind of nervousness.
You are not well-endowed, you just aren’t. You know there is nothing wrong with it, but when it comes to intimacy you always wonder if you’re too small and he won’t be satisfied. And with how Zayne always ends up kissing your collarbone and any sliver of exposed skin on your chest during your make out sessions, you were more anxious than you’ve ever been.
“Oh… okay.” Your voice barely above a whisper.
Zayne tilts your chin up to look at him. His thumb traces your jaw.
“I promise to stay professional, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You shake your head, the last thing you want him to think is you think he’d be unprofessional.
“No, no… I’ll change, just… can I.. uhm…”
Zayne catches on and straightens, slowly turning towards the door.
“I’ll be back in 5 minutes, okay?”
You nod and watch him leave. You try to take a deep breath and your chest shakes. You finally stand and pull your hoodie over your head, folding it neatly before setting it on the chair next to the exam table. You turn to face the small mirror hung behind the door and reach behind to unclasp your bra. You tug the straps down and lift the padded cups away. As you fold your bra into as tiny a ball as possible, you stare at your bare chest. It’s not that your breasts were ugly, in fact, they were quite perky. Your rosy pink nipples hardening against the cool office air were… pretty? But no matter how many compliments you gave yourself, you still felt too small.
You sling the medical gown over your shoulders and tie the strings at the waist. After tucking your folded bra inside your hoodie, you sit back down on the exam table and wait for Zayne.
The door finally cracks open and you hear him call from outside the door.
“May I come in?”
You huff out a laugh and wrap your arms around yourself.
“Yea, I’m ready.”
He enters with a small cart covered in a variety of machines. You recognize most of them. The wand of an ultrasound, the electrodes connected to wires neatly stacked by the monitor that would show the results. Zayne locks the wheels of the cart beside the table and motions for you to lie back. You hesitate and shift backwards slowly, finally settling back against the padded table, your hands still clenched around your waist.
Zayne places a hand over yours and leans over to look down at you.
“It’ll be over before you know it, we’re not doing anything new.”
You give him a weak smile and watch him walk over to the small sink to wash his hands and put on gloves. He returns to your side and starts to undo the strings of the gown, your hands still somewhat in the way. As anxious as you are, you also notice how wet you’ve become. The thought of Zayne’s hands on your bare skin makes you clit throb.
Just as he begins to pull the gown open you hear a muffled sob, you don’t even realize the sound came from your own mouth. Zayne immediately stops and moves to hover over your face, his gloved hands stroking your cheeks and wiping away tears - that you didn’t realize had started to fall.
“This isn’t about the tests, is it? Please tell me what’s wrong. Please…”
His voice is gentle and you pinch your eyes closed, guilt washing over you. You should have talked to him about your insecurities sooner. You’re crying in his exam room, wasting his time with your emotions when he could be treating other patients. He takes hold of your hand and squeezes it gently.
“For the moment, I’m not your doctor, I’m just Zayne. Tell me what’s going on, my love.”
You cover your face with your hand and take a deep breath knowing you have to get the words out quickly or you’ll crumble.
“I’ve always been self-conscious about my chest size. I barely have breasts and wear push up bras with padding to look normal but really I barely fill out an A cup. I know you like to kiss my chest and I feel like you’re going to be disappointed and I know this is a doctor's appointment and you’ll be professional but this is the first time you’re seeing my chest and I am embarrassed…”
Your final words are a tad muffled as you struggle to get them out. You keep your eyes covered with your hand and let out a shaky breath. After a minute, Zayne pries your hand away and you open your eyes to look up at him. A gentle smile tugs at his lips and he holds onto both of your hands. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I do love to kiss your chest. And I can’t wait to savor every inch of your skin. Your breasts are perfect because they’re a part of you.”
More tears stream down your face and your heart hammers inside your chest. You are undeniably wet and aching to be touched, but your first time with Zayne would not be in his exam room. Even if it does give you major Grey’s Anatomy vibes and there are plenty of scenes you’d love to recreate - Zayne the Derek to your Meredith.
“Let me see you darling, please.”
His whisper sends chills down your spine and you move your hands way letting him open the gown. He settles his hands on your waist right below your ribcage. You keep your eyes locked on his face, your chest heaves and you feel your nipples tighten. Zayne drops his eyes and lets out a soft breathy moan. His eyes snap back to yours.
“Will you allow me to be ‘just Zayne’ for another moment?”
You nod slowly, your face and chest feeling hot under his gaze. You watch as he lowers his head and places a kiss to your collarbone. Your weeping cunt is pulsating with anticipation. His lips lower and he kisses the center of your chest between your breasts. You feel his hot breath fan across your chest making your shoulders tremble. His hand splays across your stomach, you realize he removed his gloves, his skin caressing yours leaves you gasping.
Then you feel his wet lips capture your nipple and you groan, louder than you intended. You clasp your hand over your mouth, but Zayne doesn’t stop. His tongue flicks over your sensitive peak and you arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. His hand glides from your stomach to your other breast, his thumb pressing onto your neglected nipple. He rolls his thumb in a circular motion, sending your nerves into a frenzy.
He switches sides and sucks your nipple into his mouth. His hand switches as well, his nimble fingers rolling your swollen nipple between them. You feel the cold metal on the clasp of his badge brush against your skin bringing goosebumps to the surface in an instant.
“Zayne… mhm god…”
He moans against you and the vibrations against your chest make your head spin. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug. He kneads your breast, letting his hand press and rub.
He finally releases your nipple with a wet pop. He lifts his head to meet your eyes and looks at you over his smudged glasses. His face flushed, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple.
“Your breasts are beautiful and I can’t wait…”
He places a kiss on each of your nipples while rubbing his hands down your waist. You shiver and lean your head back on the table.
“...to continue this at home. But for now, I think you should get dressed and speak to reception about rescheduling this appointment.”
You lift your head quickly and stare at him with wide eyes.
“Wait… why?”
He rises and closes your gown. He offers his hand and you take it, helping you sit up.
“Because I don’t think I’ll get an accurate reading after… my examination.”
You giggle and lift your hands to his face, pulling him closer to you. He leans in and kisses you without hesitation. You’ll never forget this moment. Zayne desired your body as it was, itty bitty titties included.
You knew a second bowl of hot pot was a bad idea, but it was so delicious and the weather was so cold you didn’t care. You cuddle up next to Xavier as you tip the bowl back, slurping down the warm broth. Xavier chuckles as he lifts a napkin to your chin, catching a droplet before it stained your sweater.
“Thanks.”
Your mouth is full of noodles and meat as you speak, only making Xavier laugh harder. He sets down his third bowl and wraps an arm around you. A gust of cold air whips your hair across your face. Xavier quickly tucks the strand behind your ear. Your cheeks, flushed from the cold wind and hot soup, now burn hotter under his gaze.
“Thank you for coming to find me tonight.”
You lean your head onto his shoulder. You feel him let out a deep breath. When Jenna told you he had gone missing after his meeting with her, you immediately started looking for him. You knew he was getting close to catching a write up, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. When you found him in your favorite spot, your heart broke.
The place where Xavier asked you to officially be his girlfriend a little over two weeks ago. An old bench on top of a hill that overlooked the entirety of Linkon - or almost all of it. The city lights glow and the stars shimmer against the dark indigo sky. During the spring the hill is covered in flowers, the grass a vibrant green in the summer months, in autumn crisp colorful leaves and when winter comes children love to use the steep slope to sled. You’d watched a whole year pass on this bench, talking with Xavier about anything and everything. And when he finally asked you to be his, you didn’t hesitate, pulling him into a kiss you’ve craved since you met him.
But tonight, you sat with him until the moon had fully risen. He told you about the meeting with Jenna. She had written him up for being reckless on his last mission. He had used himself as bait for the Wanderer and gotten himself badly injured. She had given him countless warnings, but finally had to put something in writing. You held his hand as he sat in silence.
“I know she had to, I’m not upset.”
You nodded, but you knew he was frustrated and embarrassed. He had once led a whole crew, held a position of authority, and been the one to hand out punishments. And now, he was receiving them. You knew he could have been promoted multiple times, but he always turned it down. He enjoyed the daily grind of fighting Wanderers. And he loved being your partner.
Eventually, you heard his stomach growl. You dragged him down the hill to your bike and went to your favorite hot pot restaurant. It was just before closing so the owner offered to serve you as long as you sat outside so they could start cleaning the sitting area. And even though it was cold, you both agreed quickly, your hunger winning out over your comfort. Now you were sitting back, cuddled up next to Xavier with a full belly and wanted nothing more than to curl up with him on the couch for the rest of the night.
The drive home was slow, the road to your apartment complex was getting work done so you had to wait an extra 20 minutes waiting for a path to clear. Xavier had rested his head against your back, his hands wrapped around your waist. During the wait, he had shifted his hands to your hips. When he started rubbing circles into your lower back with his thumbs, you felt your heart skip. He shifted his hands under your sweater to touch your skin, continuing his massage. When he started to move his hands around to your stomach you stiffened.
“I’m sorry…”
His voice was soft, barely audible through his helmet. You shook your head.
“No no, just unexpected is all.” He resumed rubbing his fingers along your skin, leaving goosebumps behind.
By the time you had parked at your apartment, his hands had trailed down to your waistband caressing your stomach and dipping down to rub your inner thighs. You parked your bike and leaned back against him, letting out a sigh that fogged up your visor. You heard him chuckle behind you.
“Do you want to come up to my place?”
His voice had an edge to it, something dark and dangerously sexy. You nodded and you both dismounted and removed your helmets before heading into the building. While you were excited, you also felt a twinge of anxiety. Would this just be your usual make-out or did he want something more? And if he wanted something more… would he be disappointed in your body?
You’ve toyed around with the idea of a breast enhancement for years. You were barely 18 when you asked your grandma about it. She had shut down the idea immediately, telling you to wait until you were 25 and reconsider. You just felt so disproportionate, opting to wear baggy clothes. While you enjoyed being comfortable, you always felt like you were hiding.
Now, Xavier was holding your waist closely while the elevator made its slow ascent to his floor. You leaned back against him, his hands trailing lower, pulling your hips back against his groin. You grinded against him instinctively, your mind going blank as you felt his erection press against your ass. He groaned softly in your ear and kissed your neck.
The elevator door opened and Xavier raced forward, pulling you along by your wrist. You giggle as you stumble forward following him to his apartment door. He presses his thumb down and swings the door open dragging you inside.
Once you were inside, his hands went to work removing your layers. Your thick winter coat falling to the floor behind you, your scarf, your gloves. You tug at his hoodie, watching him pull it over his head to reveal his firm torso, his abs tensing as his breathing becomes more labored. He kept kissing your lips, your neck, your hands - any skin he could reach.
You collapse onto the couch with him, he crawls over you, settling between your thighs. His hands knead the flesh of your hips, your pants slipping down slightly to grant him more access to your bare skin. His hands start to move upwards towards the hem of your sweater and just as he slips beneath the thick fabric you gasp into his mouth. Your hand flying down from where you had been gripping his shoulder to stop him.
He jumps at your sudden movement, his hand frozen in place. He looks at you, his eyes hazy with lust.
“I’m sorry, I thought… we’ll stop?”
His voice was gentle, but you could tell he was barely holding back… his kisses had been so intense. You stare at him with wide eyes, your fingers digging into his neck. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out.
He takes hold of your chin, sitting up on his knee. His gaze sends a burst of heat straight to your core. You wanted him so damn badly, but your stomach kept doing backflips. You were so uncertain how he would react to your body, would he act like he loved it but secretly be disappointed?
“Are you okay? Did I go too far?”
The concern in his voice makes you nearly choke on a sob. You shake your head furiously.
“No, not at all! I… uhm…”
“What is it, baby?”
You often rely on sarcasm and brush off delicate topics because you’d rather crawl in a hole than feel weak. So you take a deep breath and brace yourself.
“I just feel like I should warn you, I’m part of a committee.”
Xavier stares at you, his brows furrow. He leans over, resting his side against the back of the couch. He keeps one hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
“The itty bitty titty committee. I have no tits basically and I think you’ll be disappointed, but I’m going to get a boob job in a few years once I’ve saved up enough so maybe –”
Before you can continue, Xavier clasps a hand over your mouth. He leans in close, his knee pressing against your core making you shiver.
“I can promise you, I won’t be disappointed.”
You give him a look, a “sure, okay” look. He scoffs and proceeds to lift the hem of your sweater slowly. He presses his mouth to your ear, giving your earlobe a nibble.
“I think I should take a look. Decide for myself, yea?”
He lifts his hand from your mouth and looks at you, he waits for you to give him the go ahead. With a subtle nod, he lifts you up, his hands diving under the back of your sweater. He swiftly unhooks your bra and pulls it out from under your sweater, tossing it onto his coffee table. He lets you fall back down onto the couch before he lifts the front of your sweater and sticks his head underneath.
“Xavier!”
You gasp and barely have time to register what’s happening when you feel it, his tongue pressed flat against your nipple. Your hips buck and you grind against the growing bulge in his pants. He groans as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks and licks and rolls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand reaches under to pinch your other nipple.
You’re not sure why you expected him to be gentle. It felt like he was trying to suck your soul out of your breast and when he grazed his teeth against the tender flesh you nearly screamed. He nibbled and damn near made out with your breast. Without warning he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same treatment.
“Oh oh oh ooohhh fuck…”
You were rolling your hips against him while arching your back trying to trap his mouth against your chest. He started squeezing your breasts, making your nipples strain and tighten even more. He opened his mouth even wider and licked your breast up and down, changing sides over and over and over. Your head was pressed so far into the cushion your neck was starting to ache.
“Xav pleasepleaseplease oh god uh fuck ahh…”
He finally pulled his head out from under your sweater. He wasted no time lifting your sweater right off of your body, rolling it up and tucking it under your hips. He starts to unbutton your pants, but slows to lean forward and capture your nipple again with his mouth.
“Xavier god ahh..”
He mumbles against your breast, letting his lips drag across each peak as he switches sides as he speaks, never leaving your chest alone for a moment.
“Do you want more, baby girl?”
You tug at his hair forcing him to look up at you, his face flushed and sweat coating his chest.
“God yes… please Xav, please…”
He grins as he leans down and places gentle kisses to the center of your chest. He continues to work your pants off of you.
“Your tits are delicious honey, don’t you dare change a thing.”
You close your eyes and hold on for dear life as Xavier takes you for the first time. Your tiny titties were nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, he loved them. Now what to do with all that money you saved up for that surgery?
“If you don’t get your cute ass down here I’ll have to restart the movie and I’m already wet!”
Rafayel’s voice rings through the house. His tone was serious, but playful as ever. You knew he would restart the movie without complaints, he was just impatient. You stare at yourself in the mirror, pushing your breasts together, trying to retie your bikini top to make them appear larger, but nothing is working.
You sigh and grab hold of the sink. You take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. When Rafayel suggested a movie night you were all for it. He had painted a portrait of a famous director's dog so he sent Rafayel a copy of his upcoming film. Getting a sneak peak at what is sure to be this fall’s most popular movie was enticing. But then Rafayel suggested making it a movie night by the pool. He had an outdoor screen and the old fashioned lights strung above the infinity pool would surely make the night magical. But as soon as he suggested it, your heart sank. He was so excited, so you didn’t refuse, but all day you’d been tense thinking about what you’d wear.
Your bright blue bikini was your favorite, simple but comfortable. The triangle top on most girls would probably not cover much, but for you it was relatively modest. Usually, you didn’t care what people thought. If you went to the beach, you wore your bikini and had a great time, end of story. But when it came to Rafayel, you suddenly felt… exposed and… lacking.
When Rafayel asked you to be his girlfriend you didn’t even let him finish the question before jumping into his arms screaming yes. You had actually knocked him over, both of you falling into the fountain outside the aquarium. You spent 5 minutes laughing and just sat there. He held onto you, like he was afraid you’d drift away the moment you stood up.
It hadn’t even been a week and the amount of times you had almost thrown caution to the wind and dropped to your knees just to get a taste… Yeah, this is concerning. And you can tell Rafayel is feeling the same way, the way he holds onto you and kisses your neck. He wants to leave his mark and make sure everyone can see it. The various hickeys on your neck and shoulders were more than enough to send a clear message to your coworkers and friends.
You both had been dancing around the conversation of being intimate. You wanted it to be natural, but you also felt so self-conscious you weren’t sure you’d ever be ready. Maybe you can just tell him you love doggy and he won’t have to see your chest? But every time you tried to turn around in bed he would hold you tighter, wanting to face you and feel your cheek against his chest.
You grabbed one of Rafayel’s t-shirts out of his dresser and tugged it on. You knotted the excess fabric at the hip, but kept the chest loose. You swept your hair into a messy bun on the top of your head and jogged down the stairs and towards the backyard.
You could hear the ocean from his yard, the constant crashing of the waves against the shore had become your favorite sound - besides Rafayel’s singing. You could hear him humming to himself while he prepared mixed drinks at the bar next to the pool. His swim trunks were fitted, showing off his adorable ass and leaving nothing to the imagination. You could feel your core start to pulse.
You cross your arms over your chest and approach the bar, silently slipping onto one of the bar stools. You clear your throat dramatically.
“Bartender! I’d like to order please!”
Rafayel jumped and clicked his tongue as he turned around.
“That’s not funny! I could have dropped a glass.”
His pout made your smile hurt your cheeks. He strolled over and placed a hurricane glass in front of you. The glass is lightly frosted from the blended drink. Bright blue slushy at the bottom with a yellow layer on top, a slice of pineapple on the rim next to a straw.
“A Rafayel special. I just had leftover stuff from the party last weekend, so this is… uhh… unique. It’s basically a Blue Hawaiian on the bottom with a Pina Colada on top. All made with Rum, so we are not mixing liquors. Learned the hard way about that one…”
You lean forward and take a sip, the sweet and sour combo makes your lips pucker and eyes squeeze shut. When you open your eyes, you see Rafayel staring at you, waiting for a verdict.
“It’s sour, I like it! What will you call it?”
He tilts his head, lifting his hand to his chin. You let your eyes drift while he is distracted, his broad shoulders tapering down to a tight waist. His abs defined and glistening with water, you guess he had already jumped in, maybe to test the temperature? You sigh and when you return your eyes to his face, you see he is looking at you with a smug grin.
“You’re staring, cutie.”
You scoff and take another sip of your drink, the sour aftertaste hits you like a brick. You shake your head and hop off the bar stool, taking your drink with you as you walk around the edge of the pool. You hear Rafayel following you.
“So you have the movie ready?”
Rafayel hums and plants his hands on your hips. You lean back against him and breathe in his sweet scent, he always smelled like the ocean in the best way. It made your head spin. You feel him take your drink from your hand and set it on a nearby table. You close your eyes and sway with him. Unfortunately, you picked the wrong moment to trust him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and lunged into the pool dragging you with him.
He’s lucky the water is warm or you’d have slapped him silly. You wiggle against his grasp, the water dragging you down. But just as quickly as you sank to the bottom, you are being pulled to the surface. You slap Rafayel’s arm as you surface, spinning around to splash him.
“Rafayel! You little shit!”
Rafayel laughs and splashes water back at you. He finally grabs your waist and pulls you back to him, his lips finding yours in an instant. You taste Rum on his lips, he always did prefer to drink it straight, only opting to drink “pretty drinks” when he was with you. The spicy undertones linger as he dips his tongue into your mouth. You moan as his tongue tangles with yours. He sucks your tongue into his mouth as his hands reach down to position your thighs around his waist.
You’re nearly delirious when you finally pull back, his mouth moving to your neck while you catch your breath.
“Did you even put the movie in? Or are you - fuck… are you —”
He cuts you off by kissing you once more. He pulls back just enough to mumble against your mouth.
“We can watch the movie, if you want. Or we can… make one ourselves?”
You let out a loud moan as he bites your lower lip. His hands move to palm your ass before tucking his fingers under your shirt, pulling up slowly. You pull back, tearing your mouth away, and reach for his hands. His eyes are full of surprise which slowly morphs into fear.
“What happened? What did I do?”
You shake your head, holding his face in your hands.
“Nothing, you didn’t do anything, I’m sorry.”
You remove your legs from around his waist and he reluctantly lets go of your hips. You swim to the edge and hoist yourself up to sit with your legs in the water. You immediately tug on your shirt so it won’t cling to your body. Rafayel swims over and stands up, the water only to his stomach, he crosses his arms and rests his forearms on your knees.
“What’s up cutie? What happened there?”
You try to laugh it off and pinch his cheek playfully.
“I told you, it’s nothing. I just… I was surprised, that’s all.”
His nose scrunches up and he tilts his head.
“It’s a surprise I want my hands all over you? We’ve been like this all week, what changed tonight? Something definitely changed.”
He’s right. All week if you weren’t kissing him, you were hugging him, if you weren’t hugging him you were holding his hand, if you weren’t holding his hand you were touching him in some way. And he was doing the exact same to you. The only difference was how exposed you were, how little clothing you had on. You were afraid, afraid he wouldn’t be as attracted to you once he saw how small your breasts were. Although you believe he is an ass man, his hands always found a way to hold onto you there, you still felt inadequate.
He tapped your forehead and you looked up, blinking at him slowly.
“You’re thinking about it, but not saying it. Out with it, beautiful.”
He leans on your legs, his face inches from your own. He has the faintest hint of a pout and you hate how easily you fold for that little lip. Your fiddle with your fingers, uncertain what to do with your hands. Finally you sigh and meet his eye.
“I don’t have much going on… with my chest. It’s like I never went through puberty or something cause I just… I don’t have… I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
You feel your cheeks burn and you lift your hands to cover your face. When you feel the pressure of Rafayel’s arms on your legs disappear your stomach drops. Then you feel his hands around your wrists, slowly pulling your hands away. You keep your eyes cast downwards and shift uncomfortably on the tile beneath you.
“Cutie?”
His gentle voice warms you from the inside out and you look up at him. His beautiful smile is contagious and you feel the corners of your mouth tip upwards. You huff out a laugh, trying to calm your racing heart.
“I have never, can never, will never be disappointed in you. Your body makes me…”
He pauses, his hands sliding up your thighs. You instinctively spread your legs for him to slide his waist between them.
“It makes me… fuck… I feel like I’m on fire. I just want to hold you and touch you…”
His hands continue up your thighs to your hips, his fingers gently lifting the hem of his shirt away from you. He caresses the skin of your stomach, and you’re thankful you're already wet from the pool because your cunt is practically weeping for him.
“Take this off, I want to see you.”
You hesitate for a moment, but finally lift your hands to undo the knot at your waist. You tug at the shirt and pull it over your head, the fabric heavy with water. You drop the shirt to the ground, and round your shoulders, you don’t even realize you’re pushing your breasts together in an attempt to plump them up. When Rafayel grabs your shoulders you practically yelp and look up at him, confused.
“Don’t do that. Don’t push them together.”
You close your eyes and roll your shoulders back, relaxing them and force yourself to stay still.
“That’s my job.”
His voice was deeper, a rasp to it that caught you by surprise, just like his hands which cupped your breasts and squeezed them. You lurch forward and gasp. You’re uncertain if you are surprised or angry, but as he begins to flex his hand pushing his palms harder against your nipples you can’t remember.
“Raf…”
He drops his hands and leans in, kissing your neck.
“May I?”
His hands travel up your back and he fiddles with the strings of your top. Your chest rises and falls faster as his eyes stay locked on yours. You nod and lift your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. You can feel him untie your top, both at your back and behind your neck. Your body is pressed against his, his hand snakes up your stomach to grab a hold of the fabric and rip it away from your body. The feeling of your tense nipples pressed against his bare chest sends another shockwave through your body.
He shifts his mouth, kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - his hot mouth leaving a trail of saliva behind as he tastes every inch of your skin. One of his hands lifts and squeezes your breast, lifting it to his mouth. His teeth roll your nipple between them, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you press your hips forward suddenly. With your core pressed against his stomach, he holds you up with a hand to your back, his other hand squeezes and tugs at your breasts lining it up perfectly with his mouth.
You arch your back, your hands rake through his hair and down the back of his neck. He moans as your nails start to dig in. He bites down a little harder and you cry out.
“Fuck fuck ahh fuck Rafayel I… please…”
As he repositions and shifts to massage your neglected breast, he whispers against your skin.
“Fuck… you’re so sensitive. How does this feel?”
He flicks his tongue over your nipple over and over and over and you whimper as your eyes roll back. You’ve never realized how sensitive your nipples were. How just the slightest touch was sending you into a frenzy. Maybe it’s because you were so worried about your size that you just never let anyone touch you this way. But right now, you were convinced he could make you come without even touching your pussy.
“Please don’t stop, fuuuuck, do that faster…”
He closes his mouth around you and sucks, his tongue never stopping. He no longer needed to hold your breast to his mouth as you were arching into him. He dropped his hand to your core, putting pressure on your clit through your bikini bottoms. You rolled your hips and spread your legs wider, desperate for him to do more. But instead of doing more, he pulled back, releasing your breast and putting less pressure on your throbbing clit. You whimper again, dropping your head to look at him. His smile was wider than ever.
“You are… so goddamn beautiful. Your moans nearly made me lose my mind…”
You feel your cheeks warm. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, letting your fingernails lightly scratch his skin. He shivers and tucks his hands under your ass, lifting you and pulling you into the pool with him. He lowers himself into the water with you, your legs wrapped around him once more. His arms holding you flush against him.
“Your body is my sanctuary, never forget that, okay?”
You nod, resting your forehead against his. He didn’t see your body in parts, he saw it as a whole and he was obsessed with every single inch. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in you. And he did, until you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.
Why oh why did you agree to go with Sylus to this gala? You already stuck out like a sore thumb in his world, but this? This is torture.
Sylus made light conversation with the seamstress as she took his measurements for a new custom suit. You couldn’t help but notice how she touched him, her hand lingering longer than it needed to. When she took his waist measurement he made a joke and she put a hand on his fucking chest. You had bit your lip so hard you could taste blood. And now she was leaning close to him asking irrelevant questions when she should have scurried back to her desk. The gala was in two days and she was standing there talking about wine? You shift uncomfortably on the plush sofa. You just wanted to go home.
The seamstress eyed you for a moment, her eyes trailing down your body. That look, you were becoming quite used to it. Being the woman on Sylus’s arm brought you a lot of unwanted attention and judgment.
You straightened your leather jacket, checking the zippers to make sure they were fastened properly. It was unbearably hot in the boutique, but you didn’t want to take off your jacket. Sylus had surprised you after you got off work, picking you up for dinner and, apparently, shopping for the gala. If you had known, you would have worn your good bra and a shirt that highlighted your waist and distracted from your smaller than average chest.
You’d learned all the tricks of the trade by now. Spending money on a good push-up bra was better than stuffing a mediocre one and risking tissues falling out. You only ever cared when it came to dating, at work you wore a basic sports bra or bralette. Wanderers don’t care that you have tiny titties, they just have to die.
Before Sylus had started getting serious about his intentions with you, you didn’t care how you looked for him either. But after a few months of joining him as “security” for his deals or him tagging along on a mission, you had fallen so hard for him it was damn near painful. You still remember the day, about 3 weeks ago, when you finally asked him to date officially. You kept waiting for him to ask you, but eventually you got impatient and asked him. His smile was radiant that day and honestly every day since.
You had agreed to take things slow and try to figure out a plan for your relationship first before getting physical.. His position and your job made things… complicated. But you couldn’t deny the fact you found it pretty hot that you were hiding it. You were enjoying the time you had with him, where no one from your world was judging him. Sadly, you couldn’t escape everyone in his world judging you.
“Sweetie? Did you hear me?”
Sylus’s voice breaks through the white noise in your head and you blink at him. He chuckles and sits down next to you. He leans back and wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“I said now it’s your turn.”
You tense, your eyes snapping to the seamstress. She looked at you expectantly, her hand on her hip and her lips set in a crooked smirk. You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down her body. Her voluptuous hips and, god, she had a nice rack. She had that hourglass figure that you’d only ever dreamed of. You could see it now, she wraps the measuring tape around your chest and chuckles under her breath. She’d probably mutter something like “Is that all there is?” and you’d want to crawl in a hole.
“Oh, I don’t need to, I have something.”
Sylus raises a brow in surprise. He sits up and leans closer to you, resting his arm on his knees. You cross your arms over your chest and smile innocently.
“This is a black tie event, kitten. Is it a floor length gown?”
You bite your lip. You definitely did not have a floor length gown. When would you ever need a floor length gown? Well right now, that’s when. You feel your cheeks warm as you glance between Sylus and the seamstress.
“I’ll circle back in a few minutes and see if she’s ready then.”
That voice is so sickeningly sweet, too sweet, she’s laying it on thick. All “I’m happy to help” and “let me know what you need” and all that bullshit. You cringe and watch her leave.
“If you don’t want your measurements taken, then you can just try on some dresses.”
You turn to face him and fight to keep your emotions hidden. You did not want to try on anything here. They’d have nothing for you and it would be too expensive.
“We really don’t have to do this, I can make what I have work. Don’t worry. How about we head back to the base? I bet Luke and Kieran are still trying to figure out that puzzle box we got them.”
Sylus leans in further, his nose brushing yours. He takes your chin in his hand.
“I can always tell when you’re lying, sweetie. Care to try that again?”
You scoff and try to pull your face out of his grasp, but he holds firm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You feign ignorance once again and Sylus chuckles. It’s a deep chuckle, laced with something almost sinister. While you were trying to figure out what he's thinking he grabs onto your waist and lifts you, dragging you over to straddle his lap. You squeal and try to push back to stand up, but Sylus’s grip is too strong.
“Sylus! This isn’t appropriate!”
Sylus pulls you forward. Your hands press against his chest as you fall onto him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, placing soft kisses behind your ear. You stop resisting for a moment and close your eyes, enjoying the affection. But when you open your eyes, you spot the busty seamstress glaring at you. Green really isn’t her color.
“Sylus, stop, this isn’t –”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
He runs his hands over your thighs and you hold your breath. When he squeezes your ass your composure crumbles. You slap his chest and push back, you’re sure your face is on fire with how it’s burning.
“Little miss perfect body is staring and I just want to go home, okay? Just let me go!”
Sylus leans back to look you in the eye. He scans your face, trying to figure out where this outburst came from.
“Little miss perfect body?” He repeats your words slowly.
Your temper was reaching a boiling point. You were overheated in your jacket, the seamstress was staring daggers at you, Sylus’s hands on your body was making your head swim and you wanted nothing more than for him to touch you and hold you. You were overwhelmed and were seconds away from running out of the boutique without Sylus.
“Round ass, perfect tits, tiny waist. Can fit into any dress she wants and fill it out perfectly?”
Sylus stares at you with wide eyes. His mouth hangs open, but he says nothing.
“You know, the kind of woman people expect to be hanging off your arm? Not someone like me who can never find a dress that fits both my hips and chest because I was blessed with thick thighs but tiny tits and I can afford alterations for every dress I buy, so I just don’t bother.”
You couldn’t stop your rant. You tried to keep your voice steady and avoid yelling, but your heart was pounding and you felt that familiar sting in the back of your throat. You’d rather die than cry in the middle of a high end boutique.
“I don’t have anything to wear to the damn gala and I don’t want that bitchy seamstress to take my measurements and mock my fucking chest size. I want to leave, please Sylus.”
Sylus doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap, helping you stand up. You straighten your jacket and grab your bag off the floor. You rush to the door and fling it open. Sylus thanks the seamstress and follows you out. You reach his bike and get in the driver seat. Sylus doesn’t say a thing and just hands you the keys once you finish securing your helmet. He climbs on the back and wraps his arms around you as you take off.
You’re sure you broke several laws trying to get to the Onychinus base, but you didn’t care. You wanted to crawl into your bed and cry. As soon as you parked Sylus’s bike and yanked off your helmet, you stalked into the mansion heading straight for your room. But before you could turn to walk down the hallway leading to your room, you felt your feet lift off the ground. You were tossed over Sylus’s shoulder, his arm holding your legs.
“Sylus! Put me down! Now!”
Sylus remained silent as he carried you through the mansion, he went straight for his room and you felt your stomach twist. You pounded on his back and kept shouting for him to put you down. Which he didn’t do until you were in his room with the door closed. You stumble as you regain your balance. He holds your shoulders as he looks down at you.
“You’re not leaving until you talk to me.”
You cross your arms and you know you’re pouting, but you just don’t care. He leans down to be at eye-level with you.
“Sweetie, please. Do you really feel this way about your body?”
Tears well up and you can’t blink them away fast enough, they spill over and roll down your cheeks. You bite your lip and stare at your feet. Sylus moves his hands from your shoulders to your face, his palms warming your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears.
“My chest is too small, my hips are too big, I don’t fit… I don’t fit in here… with you. Everyone at these galas or auctions are stunning and their bodies are so gorgeous, I don’t –”
He cuts you off, his voice has a sharp edge.
“If you think I look at any other woman… Why would I trade a diamond for a lump of coal?”
You stare at him, eyes wide, your mind reeling. Sylus trails his hands down your neck, to your shoulders before settling on your waist.
“Your body is the only thing I truly crave in this world. More than money or gems. Every moment I am with you is pure bliss. You are my world and you are not going to speak about your body like this. Not anymore.”
You gasp and take a deep breath, your bottom lip still quivering. Sylus reaches for the zippers of your jacket and you tense.
“Let me prove to you that your body deserves to be worshiped.”
You feel a heat course through your veins.
“Okay.”
He unzips your jacket and circles behind you to tug at the sleeves. He tosses your jacket on the couch and proceeds to lift your tank top. You stand before him in one of your tried and true bralettes, nothing fancy and definitely not supportive, but the lace feels nice. His fingers trace over the delicate pattern sending shivers down your spine. He tucks his fingers under the hem and you raise your arms for him to remove it.
When you’re finally standing in front of him, your chest bare, he takes your hand and pulls you over to the bed. He sits on the edge and holds you in front of him. He places his hands over your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. You rest your hands on his forearms, taking a deep breath.
“Close your eyes.”
You stare at him and open your mouth to argue, but he gives you a warning look. You close your eyes and try to relax your body, but not knowing what he is going to do is making you more anxious and tense. Your forehead starts to hurt from pinching your brows together and you start to wonder if you should have taken some pain relief before starting this… whatever this is… but then Sylus’s mouth presses against your skin. You gasp and grip his arms tighter. He places gentle kisses to the center of your chest, inching closer to your nipples with each kiss. He kisses around your nipple, his nose rubbing against the sensitive flesh making your knees buckle. He leans back and you open your eyes and look down at him, his smile is breathtaking.
“Turn around.”
You obey instantly, turning around and letting him guide you to sit on his lap. He holds onto your waist as he shifts backwards onto the bed. He settles you between his legs and you lean back against his chest. He places kisses to your neck, sucking and nibbling along the way. His hands rubbing your stomach before he lifts them to fully cup your breasts.
“Lean your head back and keep your eyes closed for me, angel.”
You do as you’re told, the feeling of his palms pressing against your nipples sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. You rest your head against him and take slow and steady breaths. His hands shift and you’re about to whine, but then you feel his fingertips press against your nipples. You gasp and push your chest out, his fingers start to move more rapidly, massaging your nipples faster and faster. Rolling the tight buds in circles and occasionally flicking them with his fingernail. You arch your back and moan.
“Ahh… Sy fuck –”
He changes his pace, on one side he pinches and twists while the other he continues to massage and roll and flick. He dips his head down to place kisses to your neck. He switches back and forth over and over, his kisses getting messier as you wiggle against him in ecstasy. He finally sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, the combination of pleasure and pain pushes you over an edge. You reach your hands back and grab onto the back of Sylus’s neck. You can’t catch your breath, his fingers moving at a relentless pace making your nipples tender and swollen.
“Sylus - ngh - so sensitive ahh…”
He stops suddenly and you sigh, but then he lifts you and stands. He sits you down on the bed and crawls on top of you, you inch backwards on the bed until he grabs your hips to stop you. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth and you grunt, the bud already overworked. You fist his sweater and tug, you feel the vibration of his laugh against your skin. He releases you for a moment to remove it, his bare chest rests on your stomach. His mouth continues to suck and lick at your nipples, the skin surrounding them and all along the space between. You glance down for just a moment to see your chest littered with marks. You roll your hips and Sylus groans. He hauls himself up and settles his elbows beside your head, his bare chest colliding with yours.
“You deserve to be worshiped, ravaged, feasted upon…”
He captures your lips with his and kisses you hard, his tongue slipping through your lips in an instant. His warmth seeps through you. You feel like you’re wrapped in a safety blanket.
“I am more than happy to remind you of that every day, until the end of time if I have to.”
You let out a strangled gasp, a tear slipping down your cheek. He kisses the tear away and presses more gentle kisses all over your face. You know you’ll still have days where you feel self-conscious, but you believe Sylus. He won’t let you forget how precious and desirable you are to him. And you can’t wait to watch him prove it every day, until the end of time.
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Premise: Headcanons on his preferences for lingerie and his reaction when he sees you in them. Based on this request.
Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) [Caleb version will come out after his release]
Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is suggestive. Please do not interact if you are a minor. Caleb version will come out after his release when I know more about his personality. If you wanted to be added to my taglist, please DM, ask or comment :D
Content warning: Suggestive. MNDI.
XAVIER
Xavier has a thing for soft, celestial tones like white, cream, silvers and muted golds. He’s drawn to fabrics that shimmer faintly, almost like starlight against your skin. He has a thing for delicate patterns, like lacework.
Sheer materials like mesh and chiffon drive him wild, especially if they reveal just enough to leave him craving more. He prefers the balance of teasing and revealing, where the fabric hints at your curves without fully exposing them.
He’s absolutely obsessed with your thighs and prefers lingerie that accentuates them. Garter belts, thigh-high stockings, and intricate lace shorts are his kryptonite.
If you have small celestial accents like tiny golden stars or moon charms hanging from the garters… good fucking luck. You are not walking the next day.
He has an unapologetic habit of tearing your lingerie when he loses control, so he’s constantly replacing your wardrobe. His explanation? “It’s not my fault they’re made so fragile. I’ll get you something sturdier—next time.”
Once the damage is done and your new lingerie is in shreds, Xavier looks annoyingly unbothered. He’ll casually toss the ruined piece aside and murmur, “Guess I’ll have to buy you another.”
He’ll commission a lingerie set made of delicate ivory lace with gold threads woven into it, shaped to mimic constellations. He’ll surprise you with thigh-high stockings that have faint, shimmering patterns running up the sides. These are always paired with garter belts because he loves tugging on them when he is intimate with you.
He’ll leave the box on your bed, wrapped in soft cream paper with a gold ribbon. Inside, there’s always a handwritten note in his steady handwriting. “For you. You’re too beautiful not to be dressed like the stars themselves.”
His reactions:
The moment he sees you in lingerie, his carefully composed demeanor melts away, replaced by an intense, almost predatory focus. His eyes lock onto your thighs, and his voice becomes a low murmur laced with want. He is the definition of: his eyes darkened.
Xavier likes the idea that these pieces are chosen specifically for his eyes. If anyone else saw you in them, even accidentally, it would ignite a streak of jealousy.
If you walk past him too many times, deliberately flaunting the look, he’ll finally snap. One moment, you’re teasing him; the next, you’re backed against the wall with his hands tracing the garter straps. “Do you want me to tear this off?” he’ll ask, his voice soft but carrying that dangerous edge. Spoiler: He’s already decided the answer.
ZAYNE
Zayne prefers earthy tones—rich browns, deep greens, warm ambers, and muted burgundies. These hues remind him of natural beauty, grounding yet alluring. He loves subtle details like lace trim, delicate straps that crisscross your back, or a ribbon that ties just above your hips—small elements that add to the allure.
Zayne is drawn to pieces that accentuate your waist. Corset-style lingerie, high-waisted panties, or teddies with cinched designs are his favorites. He admires the way they create an hourglass effect, appreciating your silhouette.
He has a thing for materials that feel good to the touch: silky satins, fine lace, and soft mesh. The tactile experience is as important to him as the visual.
Zayne has impeccable taste, selecting pieces that balance seduction with sophistication. Think satin teddies with plunging necklines or lace bodysuits with subtle, sheer paneling. He gravitates toward lingerie sets that emphasize your natural beauty rather than overwhelming it—clean lines, elegant accents, and designs that celebrate your form.
When Zayne gifts you lingerie, he makes it an intimate experience. He’ll lay the gift on the bed, wrapped in tissue paper with a single dried flower,something earthy and subtle, like a sprig of lavender or rosemary. His note is direct: “For when you’re ready to let me admire you properly.”
Zayne picks quality over quantity. He’d rather gift you one stunning, well-made piece than several forgettable ones. His selections are designed to last—not that he always gives them the chance to.
His gaze never wavers. When you wear lingerie, Zayne’s eyes lock on yours before slowly traveling down your body, making you feel like the most captivating thing in the world.
There’s no ripping it off, but it won’t take long before he’s slipping the fabric off. He’s not gentle, but he’s not reckless either. There’s a certain hunger in how he undresses you.
His Reaction:
When you walk into the room wearing one of his carefully chosen pieces, Zayne’s reaction is immediate. His calm is replaced by a sharp intake of breath, his eyes trailing over you with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.
Zayne’s fingers brush over the fabric with deliberate slowness, his palms lingering against the soft satin at your hips. “Feels even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a heated smirk. “But I think it’d feel better on the floor.”
If you tease him, letting a strap fall off your shoulder or adjusting the lace just so—Zayne’s control begins to crack. His hands are on you instantly, his voice dropping to a growl. “You like testing me, don’t you? Keep it up, and you’ll see what happens.”
RAFAYEL
Rafayel is drawn to soft, pastel shade like gentle blues, lavender, and delicate purples. He prefers lingerie that’s sweet and soft, evoking a sense of innocence while still being sensual.
He gravitates towards cuter lingerie like bralette sets with flowing chiffon accents, babydolls with sheer overlays, or high-waisted lingerie shorts. He likes pieces that don’t reveal too much but are so alluring that he cannot keep his eyes off you.
Rafayel is obsessed with fine details such as silver waistbands that drape lightly like jewelry, chokers that gleam with tiny pearls, delicate chain straps on your bra, tiny dangling gemstones, or trims that sparkle subtly in the light.
Sheer robes, flowing fabrics, and fluttering hems draw his gaze as they cling to your skin over your lingerie like water waves. If you are wearing a lingerie, fresh out of the shower with your hair still wet, it is game over for this man.
Rafayel treats every moment with you in lingerie as sacred. He doesn’t rush; instead, he takes his time, savoring every detail like an artist admiring their finest work
Rafayel is the kind of person who doesn’t just buy off the shelf. He’ll have something specially commissioned for you, likely a set of lingerie that reflects your personality and his artistic sensibilities. His commission might even include small charms that are Lemuria inspired.
Rafayel, though loving, is bashful when it comes to gifting lingerie. He would likely have the lingerie sent to you without a grand reveal, perhaps bundled with other gifts like chocolates, perfume, scarves that might distract from his true intentions. His note will be brief, almost casual: “Some pieces I thought you'd appreciate, seeing as you're always so fashionable.”
His Reaction:
The first time you step out wearing one of his custom sets, a soft lavender bralette with delicate gold chain accents and a matching choker—Rafayel freezes. Rafayel can’t stop staring, though he tries to look away, his hand rising to cover his mouth as his blush deepens. “I-I didn’t think it would suit you this perfectly…” he stammers, his gaze flicking back to you despite himself.
“I… I didn’t mean for it to be so… um… revealing,” he stammers, eyes lingering on the intricate lace and the subtle gleam of the small jewels. “But… you look… divine.” When Rafayel touches the fabric, his fingers tremble against your skin. He’s so gentle, almost reverently so, as though touching you in this way is an act of worship.
"It’s like you’re wearing my art… and I can’t stop admiring it." His gaze will flicker between your face and the lingerie, doing his best to hold himself together. “Why are you doing this to me?” he’ll murmur with desire. “I just want to keep you here... like this... for as long as possible.” he whispers, voice barely audible, as though if he spoke louder, he might break the spell.
SYLUS
Sylus gravitates toward bold, classic colors like deep blacks, rich reds, and occasionally luxurious whites, midnight blues or dark emerald greens. These colors resonate with him. He appreciates the elegance of these shades, as they exude sophistication and bold sensuality.
He’s a silk and satin man through and through. These fabrics are smooth, luxurious, and irresistible to his touch. He loves how they glide over your skin and how they feel beneath his fingertips.
He loves classic, timeless lingerie: lacy bras with garter belts, high-cut panties that highlight your legs, and elegant teddies that hug every curve. Think luxury brands and couture pieces that scream sensuality.
Occasionally, Sylus surprises you with bolder, risqué styles: Cage-style bras with open backs, strappy bodysuits that playfully expose just enough skin, lingerie with sheer panels, leaving little to the imagination.
He doesn’t tear or rush; instead, he carefully folds each piece, placing it aside after everything is said and done. “I’ll want to see this on you again.” he explains with a sly smirk
Sylus doesn’t stop at gifting you a single set. Every outfit in your closet has a matching pair of lingerie. You’ll find lingerie for every occasion. Sylus alwayssurprise you with a box containing lingerie hidden among other extravagant gifts—fine jewelry, luxurious robes, or even a custom-made vanity to store your collection: “Maybe my luck is not be so bad if I am the only man who gets to see you in these, sweetie.”
For Sylus, lingerie isn’t just for the bedroom. He loves seeing you lounge in one of his tailored sets, reclining on his sofa as you read or listen to music together. Sylus is content to let his hands roam over the satin, enjoying the feel of it warmed by your skin. “Stay like this,” he’ll say softly, his voice a mix of command and yearning. “I want to keep you close.”
True to his nature, Sylus has a habit of keeping little trophies. He has a drawer in one of his private residences dedicated to these keepsakes as a reminder of your shared moments. If you ever catch him in the act of placing something there, he’ll simply shrug with a sly grin. “Can you blame me? I keep what’s mine.”
His Reaction:
When you step into the room wearing something he’s chosen for you, Sylus’ composed exterior falters, just slightly. His gaze darkens, and his lips curl into a small, satisfied smirk. He’ll take a slow step toward you, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other reaching out to trail a finger down the silk, letting it rest against your hip.
Without hesitation, he’ll scoop you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to where he wants you—be it the bedroom, his grand leather chair in the study, or even the chaise lounge in front of the fireplace. “I’m not letting you out of my sight when you like this.”
Sylus never tears your lingerie—he unwraps you like the most precious gift, his hands moving with reverent care. “You deserve to be savored, not rushed.” he whispers, his gaze locked on you. He’ll seat you on his lap or lay you down, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate movements along the fabric. The lingerie is not just for his pleasure, it is for yours as well.
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️
w/c: 2K
a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!
You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you.
"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.
You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs.
You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body.
Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you.
He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking.
This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment.
“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs.
Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.
“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”
Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that.
“I don’t think-“
“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage.
As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it.
And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string.
You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it.
Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head.
He intertwines his fingers with yours.
“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”
“But-“
He presses his lips on the back of your hand.
“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”
You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you.
So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next.
It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder.
He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock.
“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown.
“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you.
“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg.
You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation.
You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?
“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey.
His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.
Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you.
Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus.
Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.
“Do you want me to go all the way in?”
Your toes curl.
“I can take it.”
So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.
Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good.
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
You hiccup softly. “So full.”
He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm.
“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin.
“Make you what?”
He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you.
Oh no.
Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red.
“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock.
He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily.
The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open.
It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet.
“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away.
“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”
That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough.
“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words.
“Now, can I make a mess in you?”
Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.
He’s just ready to ruin you.
His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper.
“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed.
Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole.
You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you.
Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway.
Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair.
He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip.
synopsis: you see a girl getting a little too close to your boyfriend, he responds in kind.
character/s: zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus
warning/s: sylus may or may not have killed someone, (y/n) isn't really involved
note/s: ty lia for the title idea ig
zayne:
internship season came once more as numerous medical interns lined up to be part of the prestigious akso hospital interns. you already knew that the next time you visit zayne, there would be a handful of interns in the hallway and in his office, hoping to learn a thing or two from the chief surgeon of the cardiac division.
“dr. zayne, can you pleeaase tell me more about the standard procedure before you enter a surgery, i don’t wanna mess it up.”
what you weren’t expecting to see was an ambitious college student trying to get in your boyfriend’s pants as she bats her eyelashes at him. you were delivering zayne’s lunch as it seemed to be a recurring event of him forgetting it at home. (but the both of you know that he intentionally does it because he knows you like visiting him at work and he likes that you warm up his food before delivering it to him.)
you stop right in front of the door that was slightly ajar, you knew at this time, it was his department’s lunch break and that the interns were either having a mental breakdown in the breakroom or eating outside, but this student seemed to think that this was the perfect opportunity to have your boyfriend’s attention one-on-one.
zayne pays her no mind as he reviews the upcoming surgery he has to do tomorrow. he clears his throat and responds in a monotone voice.
“pre-surgery procedures have already been discussed in your freshman year and have always been reiterated in the proceeding years. it is irresponsible to forget such vital preparations before surgery, must i discuss this with your university’s handler?”
the intern freezes in her tracks for a split second before she gathers her composure, you can see her breathe in, as if she was reassuring herself before she places her hands flat on zayne’s table, leaning her body forward, closer to zayne.
you see zayne look up at her and give her an unimpressed look. thinking that you were in his peripheral, you take a step back and hide yourself by the door.
“come on, dr. zayne.” the intern says, giggling a bit, “i’ve seen the way you look at me.” zayne cuts that statement before she could even respond.
“the only way i look at you is to ponder on how you think your internship evaluation will be reflected as body accessories and scents are not allowed in the workplace. and i’ve seen the numerous times your handler has told you off.” zayne says, eyes looking straight at her as if he were bored and done with the discussion.
“i would also like you to know that i have not shown any motive beyond professionalism toward you and your co-interns, if you still think that i am giving you special treatment or looking at you in a different way. i am not responsible for that but i would like to clarify that i am not, nor will i ever.” the intern stood up from her provocative position and stood to her height, zayne stayed seated, his piercing green eyes was unreadable as he stared dead straight into the intern’s eyes.
having enough of the show and feeling a little bad for the intern, you finally knock on the office door, snapping both zayne and the intern from the knife-cutting tension.
both of them looked at you, you smiled at zayne and you can see the way his shoulders relax at the sight of you holding his–hopefully still warm– lunch.
“you forgot your lunch at home.” you say as you enter the room. zayne looks at you as his lips quirk into a soft smile.
“thank you, love.” zayne wasn’t one to use pet names in public, especially not in his workplace. but he needed to drive a point home, he needed to make it clear that he was happily taken and his eyes are definitely not looking in a special way for anyone but you.
the intern stood there frozen as she watched zayne gingerly take the lunchbox from your hand and intertwine his with yours together.
“i–” the intern stutters as she takes a step back and pivots on her heel, running away from zayne’s office, leaving you and your boyfriend in his office as the door shuts on her way out.
“how much did you hear?” zayne asks, you hum teasingly “enough to hear that you look at her differently.” zayne scoffs at the amused tone in your voice. he stands up from his chair and tugs you in his arms.
“you’ve been here from the start yet let it go on for so long, you truly love drama, don’t you?” you give zayne a soft laugh as you pull away from his hug. “just wanted to see where it would go, i felt bad for the intern, that's why i stepped in.”
“shall i make her thank you for your kindness then?” you snort at zayne’s words.
“i doubt she’d even be able to look you in the eyes anymore, you were scary, zayne.”
“only you would be able to tell me i’m scary yet curl up against me like this, my love.”
“do you want me to let go of you?”
“i said no such thing.”
xavier:
with the influx of wanderers that were concerningly appearing in linkon, jenna decided that it was time to seek help from a distant squad and have double the hunters guarding the city. that entailed socializing with a completely new set of people— save for tara.
“(y/n)! isn’t this exciting?!” tara says as she links her arm with yours, a big smile on her face. you returned her enthusiasm, agreeing.
“although the squad merging’s reason isn’t ideal, i’m happy it’s your squad we’re collaborating with.” tara chuckles, slapping your shoulder. “you sound so robotic, is this what working with the big leagues made you?” you scoffed at her remark before the two of you headed to the training grounds.
as per jenna’s orders, the two squads were to train with each other just to gauge their level of skill. the two of you walked in and your eyes immediately landed on your boyfriend who was searching for your figure. you smiled at him before your eyes land onto a fellow hunter who seemed to be inching towards xavier every passing second.
“that’s tiffany…” your head turned towards tara who said quietly, watching the same scene that you were.
“she’s notorious for trying to sleep with the other hunters in our squad… it seems like this squad is no exception.” you looked at the hunter– tiffany, who seemed to be trying to subtly catch xavier’s attention but was futile in doing so as your boyfriend walked towards you with a small smile on his face.
“there you are.” xavier greets before he looks at the company beside you, nodding his head to tara in greeting.
“hi xavier! isn’t it so cool that we’re collaborating?” tara bantered and xavier looked at you with a confused gaze. “why is she so excited?” tara scoffs. “i’m right here.” you chuckled at tara’s failed attempt in conversation.
before you could start another conversation, jenna’s commanding voice caught all your attention as all the hunters stood straight.
“today’s training is simple. pair up and spar. this will help gauge what you lack as a hunter.” jenna explains. “team up with the opposite squad. you have two minutes.”
xavier looks at you and tara before he sighs. “i’m guessing you’re taking my girlfriend?” tara grins sheepishly.
“exactly, know your place, xavi-boy!” xavier rolled his eyes and before he could turn around to look for a sparring partner, a hand darted to his arm. the three of you looked at the source and were not even that surprised to see that it was tiffany with a sly smile on her face.
“xavier, right?” tiffany asks, xavier offers her no response but a nod, trying to take his arm away from her. “i barely know anyone here and i don’t have a partner yet… can we pleaaase be partners?” tiffany pouts, tightening her grip and you had to hold back a laugh at how pitchy tiffany’s voice was getting.
“(y/n) can be your sparring partner!” tara cuts in, a smile on her face. “she’s xavier’s girlfriend and is on par with his abilities, xavier and i placed a bet on this session’s sparring.” tara lies about the last part, not wanting tiffany to try and leech her way into her best friend’s boyfriend.
tiffany finally acknowledges you with a look-over. her piercing eyes scanned you from head to toe, a look of disgust on her face before she scoffs and turns back to xavier.
“that’s your girlfriend?” she asks xavier and you raised a brow at her, offended. xavier, not liking the tone in her voice, only nods before she sighs almost as if she were disappointed..
“eh, but the other UNICORNS hunters told me that xavier was the best hunter in the squad, how do i learn if not from the best?” your eye twitches but you offer no response as you locked eyes with xavier. as if there was a telepathic conversation, he nods and turns to tiffany.
“okay.” he says, “i’ll spar with you.” he takes his arm away from his grip before he walks away and you almost rolled your eyes at the look of victory that tiffany held when she looked back at you before trailing after your boyfriend. if tiffany had a tail, it would’ve been wagging by now.
“you really just let her steal your man like that?” you giggle at tara’s words. “there’s a reason why no one wanted to partner up with xavier even though he’s the best hunter in the squad.” tara tilts her head, confused but you didn’t say anything else as you gave her a smile.
“so, should we start training?”
training went on as normal as you and tara were locked in, trying to dodge each other’s attacks.
“xavieeer, help me with my form!” you and tara stopped, looking at each other before looking at the scene in front of you, noticing your surroundings, you see your fellow hunters stop their training just to watch the sight tiffany set.
“how am i supposed to be a great hunter if you won’t help me, please?” tiffany bats her eyes and you weren’t sure how long xavier was holding it in but he snaps.
“you have been part of the association for a long time but how is it that you don’t know how to wield your sword? not only that but your movements are sloppy. terrible. i’m quite surprised you have not been wanderer fodder yet.” xavier says in his cool voice, devoid of emotion. which hits tiffany in a way that she didn’t expect.
xavier wanted nothing to do with her and it was finally dawning upon her.
“not to mention your arrogant attitude, in the battlefield where life and death is in one mere swipe of a sword. do you expect your teammates to save you with your current attitude?” xavier sheaths his sword back to its casing before he turns around.
“do better. training with someone like you is not worth my time.”
xavier walks over to you as jenna calls for a break, the hunters whisper amongst themselves as tiffany runs out the training grounds.
“you didn’t have to be mean, xav.” you say as xavier faces you, hands on your waist as he leans his head on your shoulder.
“and let her talk to you the way she did? definitely not.”
tiffany did not return to training and the next thing you’ve heard about her was that she asked to be transferred to a different squad.
xavier truly is scary if someone dares to belittle you.
you could just imagine the pout on rafayel’s face as he types back a myriad of sad emojis and messages telling you to stay safe and that you owe him. he’s getting bored of the exhibit. he’s stared at these paintings from days on end, scrutinizing every small detail to ensure that his vision is well received. what he wanted at the moment was to stare at you appreciating his paintings.
rafayel:
you: i’m really sorry i can’t attend today’s exhibition
you: wanderer fluctuations are still scattered around the area
you: the earliest i can go back is probably the next day, but i’ll be back as soon as i can i promise!
but what he didn’t know was that you just parked your car outside and was planning to surprise him. your plan was to lower down his guard and surprise him with a bouquet of his favorite flowers and you wore the dress that he picked for you (prior to him finding out that you were not able to attend)
thomas was outside the building, waiting for you with his arms crossed. once he sees you with the bouquet in your arms, he gives you an amused smirk.
“trying to win over the boyfriend? just so you know. he’s in an extra sour mood because of the text you sent.” you groaned, embarrassed.
“you saw that?”
“rafayel showed it to me and asked if i could believe it, and has been severely pouty all throughout the day.“ thomas sighs, feeling a headache start. “i am severely underpaid for all this” you snort out a laugh at thomas’ distress as the two of you made your way to the exhibit.
it was pretty packed, with all tourists and gallery goers clamoring over rafayel’s new pieces. you tried blending in with the crowd while subtly searching for your lemurian boyfriend as he didn’t seem to be on the floor you were on.
“he’s by the second floor, look.” thomas subtly points to the mezzanine, where you could see rafayel looking down on his gallery, his head resting on his hand that was perched on top of his folded arms on the railings.
“use the longer way, he might see you if you use the shorter one…” thomas said and you agreed.
“thanks for the help, thomas!”
thomas responds in a dramatic way, tone exasperated. “please just cheer him up so i can sell more of his pieces. i need to sell to fund his habits.” you laughed at that before you nodded and headed up.
the longer route wasn’t a challenge whatsoever as stealth was a skill you learned as a hunter, you were planning to run up to him and surprise him, however the tables turned on you as you saw him talking to a woman. from rafayel’s body language, you knew that he was irritable and that the woman seemed to be only making it worse for him as you stepped closer to try and eavesdrop on their conversation.
“i thought the great rafayel only painted landscapes? how come your work entitled ethereal depicts a woman?”
“i was inspired. it’s an abstract painting. you can think of it as you like.” rafayel answers in a clipped way. unbeknownst to you, the entire time that he was in the gallery, he was trying to get away from that woman as she has always followed his galleries around, claiming to be a fan of his work. but it was obvious to anyone else that she wanted to get with rafayel and the lemurian was simply not interested. and he’s told her that, multiple times.
“come on, rafayel. there’s no need to be shy! i know you painted that with me in mind.” she says as she leans on the railing, inching closer to him. rafayel immediately turns to her with a disgusted look.
“i don’t even know who you are.”
“we can change that.”
“i am not interested in you and i have a girlfriend.” rafayel stresses the last sentence out as he makes space between the two of them.
“she doesn’t need to know.” the woman tries placing a hand on rafayel’s arm, only for him to push it away mid-air. rafayel was appalled by the sheer audacity of the woman.
“you are disgusting.” rafayel said, coldly. “i don’t know where you got the impression that i’d even glance at your direction or even think that the painting was meant for you when you are nowhere near my girlfriend’s level.” he continues.
you cleared your throat, trying to de escalate the tension as the woman looked almost in tears. rafayel’s head turns to the sound, shoulders loosening as he takes in your appearance.
without sparing another glance at the woman, he walks quickly to you and envelopes you in a tight hug, the bouquet in your arms getting squished against your chests.
“you lied to me?!” rafayel says as he pulls away, face forming into a pout as you scoff. “lying is such a harsh term, i’d say i was playing a prank on you.”
“that was a terrible prank.” rafayel says. “if you were here earlier then my bodyguard would’ve been able to protect me.” you laughed at his words.
“what would you even need protecting of?”
“just now you saw someone unauthorized try to touch me. ms.bodyguard, your sensing skills are waaaay off. you didn’t even spring into action!” he references the woman and you pull away to check the railings and see that the woman was nowhere in sight, she probably left when rafayel pulled you to his arms.
“i don’t see her anymore.”
“see! your presence scared her away.”
“that does not sound like a compliment, raf.” “it’s not. you made me wait for you.”
“raf, you’re so petty!”
“nuh uh!”
it’s safe to say that rafayel seeing you has boosted his mood significantly and that thomas was able to sell all rafayel’s pieces without the aforementioned being difficult. you learned your lesson, you now know not to prank him before an exhibition.
sylus:
you had no idea why you were even there in the first place. it wasn’t as if this was one of your missions that you had to be undercover, no, it was simply sylus demanding that you go with him to a deal that you had no interest in going to.
“chin up, sweetie. frowning doesn’t look good on you.” sylus says, not even looking at you as he walks in long strides, causing you to roll your eyes as you are forced to keep up with his pace.
“i’m about to turn downright hideous, sylus. i don’t want to be here.” you say under your breath and you hear sylus chuckle.
“nonsense. you look ethereal no matter what.” he says, smoothly. as if his words didn’t ignite a fiery warmth on your cheeks.
before you could even retort, sylus stops in front of the double doors where the deal would take place in.
“we’re here, sweetie.” wordlessly, sylus catches you off guard as one of his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “stay close to me.” was all he said before luke and kieran pushed the doors open. you couldn’t even peel him away even if you tried because his hold on your waist was in no way relenting as his presence commanded the room.
from your perspective, you could see the plethora of protocores in a neat order, one of them was under a glass barrier, in the middle of the room as if it were the pièce de résistance of the entire building and most likely, that was the protocore that sylus had his eye on.
“sylus! it’s good to see you.” you silently counted all the people in the room. you, sylus, luke, kieran, the man in front of you and… the one woman behind the boss’ chair that was staring at sylus with a sultry expression.
you raised your brow, silent. clearly, the woman can see sylus’ hand wrapped around waist, right? the woman’s eyes flit towards yours before she gives you one look-over, eyes stopping at sylus’ big hand on your waist before she looks at you with a hint of disgust–or jealousy, you couldn’t tell.
sylus gestures for you to sit on the couch as he sits beside you, one hand on your knee as he talks business with the man– who you learned was named sherman.
the woman, who sherman introduced as sarah, was his stepdaughter and he didn’t expect that she would be tagging along to his business meeting but who could blame her? hearing your stepfather meeting up with the big bad leader of onychinus was something she couldn’t pass up. but sarah didn’t expect that sylus would be bringing you, the plans of her seducing the onychinus leader almost went up in flames right then and there. almost.
she looked at sylus who had yet to spare a glance at her, the couch that the two of you occupied had room for her to squeeze in, so she did, with no shame whatsoever.
sylus paid her no mind as he kept stroking your knee, pulling you even closer that one of your legs was on his thigh.
“i have more of these high quality protocores in my office. let me go get them.” sherman says as he steps to leave the room. luke and kieran follows, ensuring that no shady business were to happen.
once the massive doors clicked to a close, sarah wasted no time in chatting sylus up. at first, it was the normal “getting to know” questions that sylus answered in a clipped way, taking note that whenever you tried to answer as well, she cuts you off.
“i’m free after this business deal… do you wanna take me out?” sarah asks, giggling as if she asked a ridiculous question.
“i’m right here.” you answered, done with all her advances on your lover. sylus smirks but drops it as sarah disrespected you once again.
“i didn’t ask.”
sherman returns, a smile on his face as he is a step closer in sealing a deal with the leader of onychinus.
“the deal is off.” sylus says, standing up from the couch, you followed his actions and walked over to luke and kieran who placed the protocores down in a careless fashion.
“w-what?” sherman stutters as he looks into sylus’ glowing red eye– a terrible choice. sylus clicks his tongue before he raises one of his hands, evol accumulating in his palm.
“m-mr. sylus! i– she can apologize! we’ll be better, i promise!” sherman says, getting on his knees as he begs for his life. sarah follows suit immediately, eyes widened in an innocent way as she apologizes in an almost insincere way.
sylus uses his evol to take the protocore that was protected by the glass barrier, huffing out a sarcastic laugh as the protocore fluctuated in his hand– definitely faulty.
“not only did you attempt to sell me faulty protocores, but you even had the gall to disrespect my lover right in front of me. the deal is off.” he repeats before he uses his evol to pin him down, a remote with a detonator in his hands as he walks away, the three of you following him as you left the building, desensitized to the blubbering sobs and apologies that you heard before you left.
after the building inevitably explodes, you couldn’t help but ask.
“why did you bother bringing me there if you already knew that the protocores were faulty?” you asked sylus as he smirks and runs a finger down your cheek.
“to be kind, kitten.” “huh?”
“aren’t i kind enough to let them see the visual of an angel before they fall into hell?”
Summery : he's needy for you and he's not afraid to show it <3
wc : 2k
Warnings : NSFW, fem!reader, ōral (f! recieving), bit of dry humping, making out, protected sex. Petnames used (honey, love, sweetheart.) No plot.
He was so done for.
Zayne exhaled shakily against your neck, his hands squeezing firmly at the dip of your waist for stability. He sounded needy, he looked needy, it's taking everything in him to not rip your nightgown off.
"You should be resting, but you occupy my every thought." He uttered in a hushed tone, but made no real effort to take you off his lap, instead pulling you even closer using his knee and burying his face on your chest.
"You're practically latched on me, Zayne." The words just rolled off your tongue it was almost infuriating.
Zayne wrapped one arm around your hips, keeping you firmly on his lap as the chair kept rocking back and forth with your combined weight. His other hand traveled up your back, up to your shoulder and neck, pulling you further down so he could nip at your collarbone with a sharp canine.
"You're one to talk, sweetheart. You're not being very cooperative with being treated properly, always gambling your life away—" he sounded frustrated, the last few words coming out in a low grumble.
You ignore his words, instead bringing your hand to playfully pinch at his earlobe before whispering, "is this how you usually treat your patients, doctor?"
"This is..." Unprofessional, he almost said, he knew well there wasn't anything professional about how he was acting with you at the moment. "...An exception."
He then continued to litter your skin with open-mouthed kisses, his hand trailing up to find your nape, tangling his fingers into your hair, playing with the textured strands.
"Is it because I'm that special someone?"
You really have no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Zayne's teeth grazed against your pulse point lightly, his tongue darting out for a brief taste of your skin. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't very affected by you.
"My special someone," he murmured, and can't help the low gasp that escapes his throat when you start rolling your hips against his, feeling himself going dizzy.
"M-my love," he protested weakly, a visible growing tent forming in his bathrobe, making it harder for him to stop himself from pulling you harder against his lap.
He grabbed you by the thighs and leaned back into the backrest, giving you less space to move but a better angle to straddle him instead. "Don't stop," you whisper next to his ear while you try to continue pushing yourself further into him that he had to suppress a moan.
Zayne was sensitive man, being pent up most of the time, so touch straved. "You're a terrible patient, you know that? Insatiable." He managed to get out.
"I'm a different kind of patient," you hum, trailing your fingertips along his visible bare skin of his chest.
He was going to combust if you didn't stop touching him like that.
"You're dangerous." he almost whimpered, his hands moving back to grip your hips, as if to steady them on his lap, but it took every ounce of his willpower not to grind them against his crotch.
God was he done, Zayne finally wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you back down for a crushing kiss. It was less of a kiss and more of a possessive mark, hungry and rough.
He wanted you, needed you, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue delved into your mouth with a greedy swipe, tasting you, as if he was drowning in you and the only thing keeping him alive was your kiss alone.
His breathing grew erratic as his hands slid down from your hips, grabbing the backs of your thighs and squeezing at the flesh, pressing you more firmly against his lap so his obvious hardened cock was rubbing between your legs.
Your sounds were unforgettable, Zayne could never forget them, the gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. He was already gone.
"Goddamn it..." he cursed hoarsely against your mouth, his hands clenching tighter under your thighs, guiding your motions on his lap before bucking up roughly, letting out a quiet groan of his own in the process.
"such a foul mouth, doctor,"
"Don't push it," he grumbled, lifting you up to his waist, "Push it?" You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, and upon the realization, tap on his shoulder, "wasn't i supposed to rest—"
"That doesn't mean you can't rest after, does it?" he responded, moving over to the edge of the bed before slowly lowering you down onto the sheets, his body caging you in between his arms and legs, his form hovering over you.
He wasted no time sliding his hand underneath your silky nightgown to feel your skin, pulling the fabric above your head, guiding your arms up.
Zayne was a weak, weak man. Weak for seeing you like this, glossy eyes, lips slightly swollen from his kiss and the way your chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. Just being able to see you like this alone was a privilege.
He let his hands roam over the curve of your stomach, "so pretty," he muttered, his eyes raking over your form.
He leaned down to graze your neck with a trail of open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering and nipping the skin, he then slowly traveled down your collarbone and to the valley of your chest, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra the entire time.
"Lift your hips." he commanded quietly, sending a shiver down your spine and heat pooling down as you obliged to his words.
The last thing on you, and Zayne was pulling the fabric out from underneath you, throwing the bra somewhere on the floor, his eyes dark as he raked his gaze over your soft mounds, "I'm never getting tired of this view." he whispered breathlessly, Upon holding your wrists down and claiming your lips again, it was impossible to not be sent into the next cardiac arrest.
Well good think your doctor is always here to tend to you.
"I've.. missed you,"
How was he supposed to hold back when you sounded like that? Your voice coming out in a low, needy whisper that drove him over the edge.
"You need me." he groaned, releasing your wrists so both his hands could run down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before giving the fabric a tug. He reached over, grabbing one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, He continued to make a trail kisses up your thigh until he reached right infront of your wet folds.
Zayne looked up when your hand came in contact with his hair while letting out a shuddering breath and a whisper of his name, your gazes heated as he moved his head further down to your core, using one hand to keep your thigh pinned over his shoulder before his eyes fixated on your clit, leaning down to kiss it.
You gasp. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, before he began to suck on your clit, his fingers trailing up to play with your hardened nipples, rolling and pinching them gently with his thumb and forefinger. He hummed when you start squirming, his tongue skillfully flicking and rolling around the bundle of nerves, Zayne didn't stop at just your clit, though.
He trailed his tongue lower, teasing your entrance, and you couldn't help but tug at his hair, hips coming to slowly grind against his face. "Stay still, you're doing well," he praised, his voice low and soft, you best know he's trying so hard not to rut against the mattress from how achy he felt. His tongue sliding in and out, coating it with your arousal. You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building up inside you.
And you think you might pass out when he starts sucking down. It was hard to stay still when you're so close to orgasm, that it was making your head blank, eyes half-lidded and heavy breaths coming out of your lips as you arch your back when you taste the sweet pleasure of your release.
Zayne lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips appreciatively and giving your stomach a few fluttering kisses. "You okay there, honey?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice as he watched how your eyes were still half lidded, and how your draped your arm over your face.
You only nod in return, letting out a low "Mhm,"
He couldn't wait until he was on his knees positioned between your legs, throwing his bathrobe off from his body before reaching down to his painfully hard cock, stroking once, twice, and he had to stop himself because he could most definitely jerk off just by looking at your face, especially when you're naked like this.
Zayne swallowed thickly, shaking his head to himself from any other thoughts before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom, tearing it between his teeth then rolling it on himself, making sure it was on securely before moving between your legs.
He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, staring into your eyes, waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. You nodded, your eyes still heavy with need, and he slowly pushed into you, his cock filling you up inch by inch.
Your jaw hanged, your body adjusting to him, your walls gripping his shaft. He continued to thrust in slowly, "you're the only thing..." He panted breathlessly into your neck, "the only thing i need in my life—" and he continued to rock against you with his thrusts slow and deep.
Zayne was taking his time now, slowly and with intent, he wanted to show you how much this moment means to him, how much you mean to him, how everytime you both have sex, it would feel like the first time every single time.
He lifted his head so that he could look at your face more clearly, his hands running over your sides, tracing the curves and the softness of your body, his fingers touching your skin as if to burn the feel of you into his memory.
His hand then trailed to your left wrist, taking your hand into his to interlace your fingers together, while his thumb brushed over the empty spot on your ring finger.
He internally cursed at himself for not getting you that ring he saw when he was on the way to the hospital. The beautiful gem resting on the window display, calling for him even.
Why didn't he just get it so he could make sure no one would ever look your way when they get the hint of the shiny ring sitting at your left ring finger?
Zayne then picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your voice growing louder, accompanied by his frustrated grunts.
He could feel himself getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, "Come on, my love," he urged you desperately, "a-ah, Zayne—!" With a loud moan, you came, your body shaking and your legs convulsing around his waist.
He followed right after, slamming deep into you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling the condom with his hot seed. He held you close, both of your breathings heavy, taking a moment to hold you both close before slowly pulling out to dispose of the condom.
"Still have enough energy for cuddles?"
"Mm, I'd want nothing more than cuddles right now."
A smile formed on his face at your words, gently shifting himself back on the bed so that he was beside you, pulling you into his arms.
He wrapped his arms around you, and he let out a content sigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, his head in the crook of your neck again, inhaling the scent of you, and he realized that he could stay like this forever. "Just a bit more before i clean both of us up.."
you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?
genre/warnings:
very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!
note:
very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)
“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”
On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.
“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”
“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—
—fell into Luke's arms.
In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—
“What are you doing?”
And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.
“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.
However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”
Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.
“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.
But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”
“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.
As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?
As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.
“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”
“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”
Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.
“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”
You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”
“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”
You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”
It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”
You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”
“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”
“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”
. . .
“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.
Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”
Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”
"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.
“What are you doing?” you frowned.
“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”
“You don’t have to…”
“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”
“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”
Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"
You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”
There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—
But after a while...
Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”
You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.
But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”
Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.
But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.
“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.
“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”
“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.
“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”
If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.
“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”
A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”
Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.
He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.
“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”
“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”
“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”
━ .ᐟ✧ GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol, recreational drinking (characters and mc), jealousy (guys + mc), drunk characters (guys + mc), use of Y/N, pet names, unprotected sex, never pulling out, fluff/crack/banter, individual content warnings below with their respective fics
━ ✧.˖ LINKS: original inspo | ao3
A/N: SURPRISE ITS HERE EARLY! oof another fic for all four guys? who is she? but actually after this i likely won’t be writing for all four guys like this again, or at least for a while. if i can somehow get better at writing fics that are 1-2k then ill start doing scenarios with all four again! i tried to keep this one short and they’re still all 3-4.3k per guy…this scenario was originally based off the one video of the drunk asian guy! see the clip above under ‘links.’
enjoy guys!! i’ll be taking a much needed break but may write slowly in my own time :) just depends how i feel, how much inspiration i have! i’ll still be on tumblr but will mostly be on my twitter <3 until next time bbs!
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 4.3k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, sylus refers to reader genitalia as ‘she,’ public sex, sex in an alley, standing/against the wall sex, finger sucking, choking, outdoor sex, voyeurism, needy sylus, drunk sylus, jealous sylus, use of pet names, mentions of guns, tiny bit of violence, cumming in coochie, panties over cummies
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | video (how sylus kisses you in this)
Luke and Kieran watch the way Sylus’s eyes track you under the strobing lights of the nightclub. It wasn’t out of the norm for their dear boss to be obsessed with knowing a certain Hunter’s whereabouts. But this was excessive, even for him.
The way he’d already shattered two glasses with the force of his fingers, his eyes scarily unblinking as they trailed your every movement. The club manager didn’t dare kick Sylus out, apologizing to him as he’d cleaned up the glass from Sylus’s feet. But Sylus was too distracted to even notice.
The pair of troublemakers supposed it had to do with the fact that some sleezy drunk had his hands all over your bare thighs. They knew if Sylus had his way, that very man would be unconscious on the floor in half a second flat. But of course, when it came to you, Sylus was helpless as he was whipped, giving into your every desire, even if it physically pained him to do so.
And you had ordered Sylus not to intervene, not when you were undercover, trying to get classified information from the powerful men that frequented this very nightclub in the N109 zone. So he was left at the bar, quite literally fending thirsty women off left and right, watching the way you pretended to laugh amongst the unsuspecting targets. He tried to distract himself from the men who so clearly were thinking of ten different ways to fuck you.
A privilege reserved only for him.
So the twins, who had so enthusiastically begged to tag along, devised a plan to help Sylus take his mind off planning literal murder.
Really, they were trying to help!
But maybe they should’ve stopped after the fifth drink. When Sylus’s cheeks flushed the same shade of red as his eyes, ebbing all the way up to the tips of his ears.
And they definitely should’ve stopped after the tenth drink. When Sylus’s body started to move on its own accord, his Evol practically parting the crowd of drunk and sweaty clubbers to get to you.
But at that point there was no stopping the formidable man from taking what he wanted. And what he wanted, what he needed, was you.
Honestly, you nearly breathe a sigh of relief when you feel Sylus’s familiar Evol wrapping around your wrist, yanking you backward and away from the disgusting man trying to feel you up. You’re so happy to feel his strong arms around you that you don’t notice how atypically clumsy his Evol feels, like grasping for something when blindfolded.
“We’re leaving.”
Sylus’s words are dominating and commanding, ‘no’ not even a fathomable possibility. But there’s a slight waver in his gruff voice that makes you raise your eyebrow at him in question.
The idiotic man before you wraps his clammy hands around your waist, pulling you back, “Hey man. We’re in the middle of something.”
You look up to see Sylus’s crimson eyes, trained on the way the man’s fingers dig into your bare skin, burning with something dangerous, the air around him crackling with an erratic and sinister energy, and you know you have to defuse the situation as quickly as you can.
You bring your elbow to the man’s groin, digging hard. He groans pathetically, wilting to his knees. Truthfully, you didn’t have to elbow him that hard, but you’d become nauseated with how disgustingly he’d been looking at you, touching you, for the past thirty minutes.
“No, we’re really not.”
With that, you slip into Sylus’s side, his large arm wrapping possessively around your naked shoulders, your hand resting on his abdomen. Sylus’s lips quirk up, deeply satisfied with the way you can bring men twice your size to their knees before they can even blink. His girl.
As the two of you make your way out of the crowd, you start to notice the way Sylus’s movements are unusually sluggish, his feet trudging one after the other. Considering Sylus was always poised and elegant, you instantly knew something was amiss. When Luke and Kieran fall into step behind you, you turn to the two masked men.
“What happened?!” you hissed at them, “What happened to ‘Watch Sylus? Easy peasy lemon squeezy?!’” Your fingers are raised in air-quotes as you recall their confident words and uncontrollable giggles when you’d tasked them with keeping Sylus in line, knowing he’d have a hard time watching you faux flirt with other men, no matter how self assured he was.
Kieran is the first to speak, clearing his throat as the four of you exit the nightclub, the night air ruffling through your hair, “Well, you see –”
But he’s cut off when Sylus roughly grabs your chin, pulling your eyes up to his.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Your eyes flicker to his, surprised by his demanding, yet needy, words. Sylus smiles when you look up at him, his eyes, as unfocused as they were, beaming down at you.
His rough fingers caress your cheek, burying his face into your hair, inhaling your intoxicating scent, “Beautiful.”
The scent of alcohol on his breath is so strong you nearly wince. Luke and Kieran seem to notice your realization at the same time, their eyes widening as you start to yell in disbelief.
“Is he drunk?!” you demand, your arms wrapping tighter around his waist, Sylus in a world of his own as he mutters incoherent mumblings into your hair, shifting his weight onto you.
The twins grin at you sheepishly, raising their hands in surrender. Luke speaks, “Well, in our defense, boss never gets drunk –”
“Yeah! Boss is such a heavyweight –”
“So we thought, a few drinks might loosen him up –”
“You should’ve seen him! He was thiiiiiis close to commiting a crime –”
“So really, you should be thanking us!”
The twins finish rattling off, looking at you with puppy eyes.
You sigh, unable to feign anger at them, “How many drinks did you give him?”
“Umm…what was it Kieran…like…eight?” Your eyes widen as they scratch their chins.
“No…no, it was definitely closer to…like twelve?”
“Well we also gave him those cute little drinks with the umbrellas, he seemed to really like those!”
“Yeah and they had little chunks of fruit in them! Maybe that cancels out the alcohol?”
“Yeah! And the one with the olives too! Plus, boss always drinks like a bottle of wine a night!
“So we thought…a few mixed drinks…couldn’t hurt anyone!”
Your head spins as you try to keep up with their conversation, digging through your purse to find the unopened half bottle of water you’d brought. You quickly unscrew it, bringing it up to Sylus’s lips.
Sylus looks surprised when the cool plastic touches his lips, but once his hazy eyes focus on you again, he visibly relaxes. The sharp vermillion hues in his irises melt at the reflection of you, softening into the most beautiful carmine pools of red wine.
His hands come over to cup yours, holding your fingers affectionately in his as you tilt the water back so he can drink. You have to tip toe upward so you can follow his grip, his gulps greedy and eyelids shut in relief, the sensation of your hand cupping his jaw feeling like his own personal heaven.
With the plastic at his moistened lips, his eyes flutter open to look at you, his lids heavy with intoxication. Even though his eyes swim with a murky tiredness, they glow when they watch you, glimmering with a star-struck adoration. His intensity stares you down, a knowing heat piercing right through you. The very same heat that has seen both your naked body and soul.
The moment feels hot and strangely intimate. It definitely felt illegal to have Sylus looking at you like that while Luke and Kieran stood behind you.
He’s so distracted by you, eyes never leaving yours, that nearly a third of the water splashes onto his chest and the pavement floor. He drinks so enthusiastically that you almost want to giggle at how submissive he looks, drinking so obediently from your hands, eyes following your every move. Fortunately the pair of whispers behind you remind you that, even if Sylus stares at you like he’s ready to mount you right then and there, you are not alone.
When the bottle drains, he crumples it in one hand, tossing it to the nearest waste bin.
As it hits the metal trash can, you tear your eyes away from the way Sylus heatedly watches you, turning back to Luke and Kieran, “Are you two insane?!”
The twins look positively offended.
“How did you even convince him to drink so much?”
“Well, he was so distracted watching you that he just downed anything we put into his hands...”
You bite your lip, realizing how difficult it must’ve been for Sylus to sit back and just watch. But he did it, for you.
“Y/N.”
You try to ignore the way Sylus is stroking the bare skin of your shoulders, fingers coming dangerously close to your neck. His ruby eyes beg for your attention.
“Sylus might drink a lot, but he drinks wine –”
“Y/N.”
“Not hard alcohol! Look at how red he is! You guys, this was recklessly irresponsible!”
“Y/N.”
Sylus pulls you forcefully back into his arms, his head dipping into the crook of your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. Through the darkness of the night, you pray Luke and Kieran can’t see the way Sylus whispers into your ear.
“I need you.”
You fight the shiver that threatens to unleash through your unsuspecting body, his hot breath washing against your skin, the contrast of the brisk night air making you all the more sensitive. His fingers hold you in place, his hard body pressed into your own.
You sigh, trying to brush the arousal away, “Let’s get you home, yeah? We can –”
He nips at your earlobe, eliciting a squeak from your lips as he gruffly demands, “Now.”
Before you can protest further, Sylus’s eyes direct to the twins in front of you, the pair of them snickering to themselves knowingly as he dismisses them, “We’ll meet you at home.”
–
You didn’t even make it to your car.
Far from it, you found yourself pressed into the cold brickwall of a nearby alleyway, not fifteen feet from where Luke and Kieran had left the two of you. Sylus’s lips are latched onto yours in a furiously passionate embrace, his hands alternating between grabbing torridly at your waist and threading into the back of your neck, weaving into your sweat-dampened hair.
Your arms are wrapped around his neck for support against his torridly forceful kiss, his head tilted to the side to give him full access to your mouth, your lips, your tongue.
He doesn’t even stop to breathe, opting to inhale your breath as his own. His tongue forcefully explores every inch of your open and willing mouth, and you struggle to keep up with his excitement. His fingers massage your neck, grabbing eagerly at every part of you he can reach.
Sylus has always been passionate, but this was something else. It felt as if the alcohol in his blood amplified everything tenfold, leaving his cock thicker than ever against your shivering abdomen. His hands roam down your naked back, pulling at your waist again, pressing your body harder against his erection that leaks against his underwear.
Sylus’s head tilts to the other side, your face moving opposite his to instinctively receive his unbridled passion. He cups the back of your head again, shielding you head from hitting the wall, the force of his kiss pushing you against it violently.
He pulls away briefly, panting into you, his canines grazing into the soft skin of your ear, “You’re going to be the death of me, little dove.”
You want to question him, but his lips are back on yours in an instant, consuming you once more. His fingers grip your jaw so tightly, funneling all the emotions he’d held back, while watching you on the dancefloor with other men, into the way he holds you against the wall. Into the way he devours you.
He gives you a brief second of reprieve, pressing his lips into your neck, voice coming out husky and sulky, “I don’t enjoy seeing you with other men.”
You gasp as he pushes you impossibly deeper into the wall, teeth simultaneously digging into the curve of your neck. Your fingers thread up into his hair, tugging to ground yourself as Sylus sucks your soft skin.
“M-sooorry,” you slur, as if you’re the one who’s drunk, “B-But I got the information I – nnghn – needed.”
Sylus growls into your skin, “I knew you would. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”
His thumb presses against your bottom lip, eyes glazed over with a drunken hunger, “And you always have me at your mercy.”
It isn’t long before he has your back arched into his abdomen, the front of your sweat slicked body pressed into the cold alley wall, his cock buried in your wet gummy walls. Your panties are pushed messily to the side, your skirt hiked up to your waist.
Sylus’s fingers are shoved into your mouth, claiming to try and minimize your sounds so passerbys don't hear the filthy things he was doing to you. In reality, he was just addicted to your sweet mouth wrapped around him.
His other hand holds both of your wrists, locking them against the small of your back, leaving you absolutely at the mercy of his thick cock ramming in and out of you.
“S-so damn beautiful,” Sylus is almost slurring, having gotten more drunk the longer the alcohol sat in his stomach. The acoustics of the dark alley made his body pounding against yours all the louder and more sinful.
His thrusts are sloppy, the alcohol making it harder for him to maintain control. But that only serves to arouse you more, the sight of Sylus’s hazy eyes when you crane your neck back to see him, the sweat sticking to his flushed skin.
You can only moan, the pads of his fingers pressing down into your tongue. The loud drunken giggles of people passing by make your eyes widen, but Sylus doesn’t stop, only going faster.
“Never gonna let another man touch you, ever again,” he moans into your ear, as he ruts angrily into your g spot, his fingers pressing tiny bruises into the fat of your hips. He’s ten times handsier when he’s drunk, almost as if the alcohol makes his muscles itch, your body his fixation..
He spins you around suddenly, nearly making you lose your balance, his cock entering you just as quickly as it had slipped out. Sylus is desperate to see your beautifully hooded eyes, the faces you make when you come undone for him.
You grip the thick muscles of his neck, admiring his damp and exposed chest. The buttons of his shirt had been yanked open in the drunken shuffle, leaving little to imagination.
“H-Hey,” Sylus mutters, the faintest hint of a whine beneath his words, “Look at me.” His thrusts, sloppier than ever, never stopping.
You grin, despite how blissed out your mind is becoming, at his adorably needy behavior. As you let your eyes lose themselves in his, you stroke his jaw lovingly.
“Tell me,” he pants, his cock twitching as it presses insistently into your walls.
“Nngh — T-Tell you what Sy?” you coo breathlessly, nails digging into his sweaty skin, trying to distract yourself from the no doubt filthy brick wall pressing into your exposed back.
“Tell me how I make you feel,” Sylus’s jaw tightens dangerously.
He thrusts especially hard and deep when you don’t respond, capturing your wrist and pressing it into the wall above your head, effectively trapping you against the wall, “Tell me.”
You squeal, biting your lips, “Sylus! F-Feels s’good. N-No one else can — hng — make me feel like this!”
Sylus’s glossy ruby red eyes flicker, his fingers finding your clit pressed against his pelvis, “Yeah? You love my cock, don’t you sweetheart?”
You want to smile at how adorably needy his words are, the alcohol fueling him with the rare desire to be validated. Instead you just nod vehemently as he plays with your clit, “I dooo!”
Sylus grunts, struggling to breathe as you tighten around him. He grabs your cheeks in between his fingers, squeezing them firmly until your moans are muffled, “Shhh, we wouldn’t want someone to find us, would we little bird?”
You nod obediently, but your body responds instinctively to his words, your abdomen fluttering in excitement at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position, with the revered leader of Onychinus no less.
Sylus chuckles darkly, his every nerve receptive to your tiniest micromovements, and especially the excited way your pussy clamps down on his erection. His lips come down to kiss your jaw sweetly, contrary to the mean way he bullies himself into your cunt.
When he reaches the space beneath your ear he presses a tender kiss there, whispering huskily, “I can feel the way you’re tightening around me. Do you like the idea of someone watching us?”
Your eyes widen at him, and that’s all the answer he needs.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I would love to give them a show. Especially that man who had his hands all over you, hm? What was his name?”
“I-I d-don’t – hah – remember,” you wheeze, holding on as he bounces you into the wall, the sound of drunk bar patrons growing louder.
Sylus smiles darkly, his red eyes glowing in satisfaction, “Good girl. This pussy belongs t’me, hm?” His words come out in a purr, slightly sluggish with intoxication.
You can’t speak, opting to nod as eagerly as you can, your brain muddling against the pleasure of your joined bodies. Sylus chuckles at your wordless agreement.
“My precious dove…can’t even speak?” he coos, fingers still splayed out against your poor quivering clit, the wet sounds of his furious ministrations echoing throughout the dark alley. He leans in close to your ear.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. She’s so loud she might as well be answering for you,” he grins, clearly talking about your soaked and squelching pussy against his demanding thrusts.
You’re about to retort when you hear another group of people passing by the alley. Your hands fly up to your mouth, forcing your uncontrollable moans away. Your eyes squeeze shut as the patter of feet gets closer and closer, fear and excitement taking over.
“Ah-ah,” Sylus tuts, “You know better than to hide your beautiful sounds from me.” Your eyes widen when his words sink in.
Your hands fly to Sylus’s broad shoulders, but it’s too late to push him back. His hands find the globes of your ass, lifting you off the floor, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. At this angle Sylus can fully bounce you on his cock, using you however he wants. At this angle, the swollen tip brushes right into your cervix. At this angle, it’s physically impossible for you to muffle your cries.
Your nails dig into the ropes of his shoulder muscles as you squeal. Sylus only grins as the sound of feet falter, right in front of the alley.
You try your best to whisper, “Sy-Sylus, please. Th-they’ll hear.” But it was pointless. Even if you could hold back your whimpers, the echo of his arousal dampened pelvis slapping against the space where your thighs met your ass bounced off the walls of the alley like a resounding bell.
“You say that…” he murmurs, fingers coming back down to your clit, balancing you in just one arm, “But why is she getting so tight?”
He’s right, and there’s no denying it. Sylus is well acquainted with your body, knowing exactly what excites you, what you don’t like, what you love.
The heavy footsteps gradually fade, likely too drunk to hear anything than the pounding of distant EDM music. Sylus hears you sigh in relief, releasing a bated breath, but your cunt stays as tight as ever around him. It drives him insane.
Nearly getting caught has only pushed both of you to the cusp of your orgasms.
“Close, dove?” Sylus whispers into your ear, one hand pressed into the wall, the other bouncing you on his quivering cock.
Your head is thrown back as you nod, gasping for your next breath, “Y-Yes! So cloooose Sy!” At this point you don’t even care who could possibly hear you, only able to focus on the angry way Sylus’s cock twitching inside you, stroking your g-spot, begging to paint you white.
“M-Me too, Y/N,” Sylus’s uncharacteristic stutter, driven to madness by the alcohol and you, makes you clench down, hard.
He hisses, hips stuttering, teeth clamping down on your shoulder, tongue subsequently coming out to lap at the space where he bit down, soothing your skin.
The push of pain, the pull of pleasure, it’s just enough to tip you over, careening down the cliff of your orgasm. Your head falls back, eyes rolling with them, body fully preparing to show Sylus just how much you loved him.
But Sylus has other plans, squeezing your cheeks in between his fingers, directing you to look at him.
“Hey. Look at me, please.”
His commanding words remind you that he’s very much still intoxicated, making him adorably needy for your attention.
When your eyes level with his, his red eyes sparkle happily, like a puppy getting its ears scratched, “Hello, my love. Show me, hm?” The duality of his lovable desperation and his downright malevolent plunges into your cervix blurs the lines between pleasure and reality, sanity and madness.
You nod eagerly, holding his intense eye contact, while you burst at the seams, spraying all over his still clothed abdomen. Sparks of white hot electricity travel through every one of your nerve endings while you cum on him.
Sylus gulps, in awe of the way you sing for him, shame thrown to the wind. If anyone were to walk by, they’d hear the way you screamed for his cock. Hear the way your body made him gasp for his next breath. How he grunts with each rope of cum that he dumps into your waiting hole, each sloppy pump filling his vision with bleary stars.
As he cums, he whispers brokenly into your ear, “C-Can never get enough. I love you, sweetheart.” One of his big hands comes up to clamp around your throat, his fingers pressing down forcefully as he erupts inside of you.
“Ngh…I love you Sylus,” you murmur against the pleasure of your constricted air flow, clinging to him, truly like an injured bird.
Sylus kisses your lips tenderly as you both come down from your highs, his fingers carefully laying your panties back in place. When he sets you on the ground, you nearly collapse, your legs quivering from the way they’d been locked around his waist. His arms are back around you in an instant, holding you steady. His cum flows out of you like literal tears, but you can only clamp your thighs shut and pray your pathetic soiled panties can catch the streams of his milky seed.
He guides you carefully out of the alley, pressing affectionate kisses into the crown of your head as he holds your waist protectively. You’re so dazed you hardly notice that your skirt is still ridden up, until Sylus gently pulls it back down, smoothing the rumpled fabric with his large hands.
The sounds of two far too familiar voices greet you when you emerge from the backstreet.
“Are you guys finally done?”
“Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting?!”
Sylus groans, running his hand down his face, “Didn’t I tell you two to go back to base?”
And though you’re thoroughly mortified at the idea of the twins having walked into your…situation, you can’t help but smile at the way Sylus handles Luke and Kieran. Like a father reprimanding his children.
“Well we did —”
“But then you guys didn’t come back for a while —”
“So we thought maybe something happened!”
You shake your head at their frenzied explanation, the smile stretching on your lips as you watch the twins move their hands animatedly in their defense, “You guys are impossible.”
Luke gasps in exaggerated earnest, “How can you say that after what you’ve put us through?”
Kieran nods in agreement, shuddering dramatically, “Yeah! I feel like I just walked in on my parents…”
“You two better watch yourselves before I confiscate your guns again,” Sylus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. But you can see the corner of his lips fighting an amused smile.
Luke and Kieran simultaneously gasp, their reaction making it seem like Sylus was a father grounding his children, taking away their toys. You burst out into giggles, hugging Sylus’s side to keep warm as you watch the comical situation unfold.
“There’s no need for you to do that, Sy,” you murmur, looking up at him, admiring the way the moonlight frames his face. Sylus peers down at you, his face softening, before nodding curtly.
The twins snicker. Luke uses his hand as a shield in front of his mouth to whisper to Kieran, pointing to Sylus behind it, “Whipped.”
You shoot them a smile, a deceptively innocent and sweet grin, “I’ll gladly confiscate them for you.”
There’s nearly a cartoon puff of smoke left behind when the twins scurry off, desperately clutching their holsters and begging for mercy.
Sylus chuckles as he watches them run off, his arm slung over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side as he presses a kiss into your forehead.
“Truly a force to be reckoned with.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.8k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, drunk mc and xavier, pre-established relationship (but not first time), public sex/voyeurism, sex on the dance floor, standing sex, fingering, dancing without leaving room for jesus, grinding, jealous!mc, not a content warning but xavier is wearing tight black shirt and jeans…….MMMMMM, unprotected sex, handjob through clothes
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | pics (how xavier and you make out in this)
The thumping beat of club music pounds in your ears, making it difficult to hear even your own thoughts. But you really didn’t care, too intoxicated and having too much fun dancing with Tara in a throng of sweaty club goers.
The both of you had requested today off, wanting to see an up and coming DJ at the Linkon Lounge. You’d started the night off at your apartment, getting dolled up in your wispiest lashes and outfits that made you feel strong, confident, and beautiful. You’d shared a couple shots of tequila before slipping on your heels and scrambling out of your apartment, in a fit of tipsy and hushed giggles.
Coincidentally enough, you ran into Xavier on your way out. Your blonde-haired partner was in the apartment lobby, grabbing his mail, when you and Tara bumped into him, literally. If it weren’t for Xavier’s quick reflexes, his forearm darting out to wrap around your waist, you definitely would’ve ended the night before it began, with an ice pack in your hand rather than a fruity drink.
And that’s when Tara had invited Xavier out with you. Truthfully, you were sure Xavier would say no. The club definitely wasn’t his scene, and he undoubtedly had plans to have a cozy night in. But you were pleasantly surprised when he blurted out ‘yes’ before Tara could even get the words completely out. Tara knew Xavier wanted to come to keep an eye on you, and she was all too happy to play matchmaker.
You hadn’t seen Xavier for what felt like at least fifteen minutes. You assumed he went off to the bathroom, or maybe to order some more drinks. Before long, you started to worry.
“I’m gonna go look for Xavier! Will you be okay?” you practically scream over the music, pulling the side of Tara’s face to your mouth so she can hear you better.
“I’ll be here!” she yells, pointing at her phone, “Text me if you can’t find me!” You nod, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
You push your way out of the crowd, apologizing profusely as you’re met with the displeased looks and groans of drunk patrons.
Eventually you make your way to the edge of the dancefloor, scouring the area for Xavier. You had a difficult time focussing your eyes, stumbling about, but did your best to look for the enigmatic Hunter.
You quickly check the line at the bar before deciding to check the bathroom. It’s then you catch the glint of familiar platinum blonde hair, Xavier’s body leaned up against the wall near the public water fountains.
You gulp at the sight of him, his head leaned back to rest against the wall, his hands folded across his chest. The musky sweat of the enclosed space made his black fitted t-shirt cling to his biceps, his skin glistening with sweat under the pulsing LED lights.
Even from this far away, it’s clear Xavier is drunk. His eyes are hooded with intoxication, his throat bobbing with shallow breaths.
You’re about to approach him when the groups of people in front of you shift, and you see a girl latched onto Xavier’s bicep. The two look far too cozy, Xavier not doing anything to push her off as she speaks animatedly up at him, her eyelashes batting seductively.
It’s not like you and Xavier were dating…but it was clear there was something deeply intertwined about the two of you. That, and the fact that you’d been intimate several times. But you had to admit, you’d never made things exclusive.
You turn on your heel, thoroughly perturbed at the sight of Xavier with someone else, making your way back to where you’d left Tara.
You’d just broken into the crowd when a firm hand catches your wrist, stopping you from pushing further. You turn back sharply, ready to throw your fist back, only to be met with the sight of Xavier, in all his flushed and handsome glory.
“Where are you going?”
You fight the urge to smack him, jealousy a true green-eyed monster, instead just feigning ignorance, “What? I can’t hear you!” You gesture wildly with your hands to emphasize your point. You turn away from him, starting to tug your wrist away again when he pulls you back, hard.
He twirls you effortlessly into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you, secure and unrelenting. You look up at him in question. He leans down, and your breath catches as his lips come an inch away from yours. But he doesn’t kiss you, instead whispering into your ear.
“I asked where you were going. Didn’t you see me?” his breath is warm against your ear, the smell of alcohol invading your senses over the pounding music.
“You looked busy. I didn’t want to intrude,” you try to keep your voice level, but you can tell it comes out petty. You hope through the deafening music, Xavier can’t hear how sulky your voice is.
Xavier looks confused in his drunken state, but shouts into your ear, his tone genuine and endearing even amidst the music, “You’re never intruding.”
You sigh at his sweet words, tiptoeing up to speak to him and trying to be nice, “Who was your friend?”
Xavier looks even more bewildered for a second, before realizing the implications of your words, a lazy smile painting his features. He holds you close, one hand on the small of your back, the other coming up to touch your cheek.
“Not my friend. She couldn’t find her friends and wanted to wait with me.”
You roll your eyes. Xavier was too sweet and unassuming for his own good.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Xavier chuckles, “You don’t have to be jealous, I only have eyes for you.”
Your cheeks flare amidst the flush of alcohol on your cheeks at his words, and before you can speak Xavier is leaning down to kiss you. You squeak in surprise, but respond to his lips, kissing him back.
Xavier kisses you slowly, gently, and tenderly. You can barely even hear the music around you, the musky people bumping into the pair of you. All you can feel is Xavier, lips on yours, his hands stroking your bare skin, his hardening erection against your stomach.
He pulls away for air, his lips swollen and wet from your passionate kiss. Your ears pound in excitement at the way Xavier looks down at you, hungry and wanting more. You hook your arms around Xavier’s neck, pulling him down until your foreheads brush against each other.
“Dance with me,” you whisper loudly against the music. Xavier’s eyes shine with excitement, and he nods, his hands gripping your waist as you start to sway to the music.
You turn around so you can watch the flashing lights, the alcohol making them look like a light show. You feel much bolder with the liquid courage running through your veins, so you grind back into Xavier, your rear molding perfectly against his crotch.
Xavier hardens so quickly against your movements, your body feeling so perfect against his. The alcohol makes everything feel much more fluid and raw, his body responding excitedly.
He too is fueled by the courage of intoxication, his hands roaming from your hips to your stomach, just above the fat of your cunt. He can feel the way you shiver at his touch, and he decides to dare further.
His strong hands wander up, until they cup your breasts through your sheer dress. He rests his chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear.
“Is this alright?”
You crane your neck backwards to nod at him, eyes flickering to his lips. Xavier leans in to kiss you again, one hand still playing with your nipple, the other reaching up to hold your throat against him gently. The two of you kiss so passionately, so messily, that you hardly notice the crowd of equally drunk and horny people around you.
As you kiss him, your hand comes backward to cup the back of Xavier’s head, grabbing at his soft blonde locks. Your body continues to rock sensually into him, relishing in the way his hard erection sits between the slit of your ass.
Looking up at him through your wet eyelashes, you whisper, “M-More. I want more.”
Xavier groans, looking around, trying to find the quickest way out of the crowd. But you can’t wait, too aroused by the way Xavier’s shirt clings to his muscles, the way his cock fights against his jeans, straining to be with you.
The alcohol dares you to be bolder than you normally would ever be. You grab his wrist, bringing it down to the hem of your minidress, guiding his fingers to slip under it.
You can feel Xavier stiffen behind you, eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching. But he quickly realizes quite literally no one cares about the two of you, too focussed on the music, too focussed on their own partners, to even spare you a glance.
So he follows your lead, his hands roaming under your dress, digging into your soft thighs. You moan into his ear, your head laid back on his shoulder.
With his palm so close to your cunt, you grind right into his open hand, wanting more friction, more of him. Xavier groans at your enthusiasm, quickly forgetting about the people that are packed around you like sardines. He feels something damp against his fingers, making him all the more desperate to have you.
“You’re wet,” Xavier whispers sluggishly into your ear, “Is this all for me?”
You groan at his words, your muscles twitching with anticipation. You try and look at him, the back of your head still resting on his thick shoulder. Your hand grasps at the back of his neck, forcing his eyes to drift down to you, the azure blues flickering to your lips before they come back to your gaze.
“Touch me, please.”
Even under the strobing lights of the club you can see Xavier’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening. His eyes flutter shut as he leans down to kiss you.
At the same time, his finger gingerly dips into your folds, moving your panties to the side. At first he just rubs up and down with his middle finger, enjoying the way you moan into his mouth. But it becomes far too unbearable, not being inside you.
He slowly dips his middle finger inside of you, hissing when your little hole sucks him in tightly.
“Is this okay?” Xavier asks, wanting to make sure you’re alright. Your eyes dart around lazily, making sure no one can see Xavier’s hands underneath your dress.
You nod, your eyelashes fluttering shut as Xavier starts to pump in and out of you. The energetic music makes everything feel more surreal, only the occasional jostling of people bumping into the pair of you reminding you of exactly where you are.
Xavier’s index finger finds its way inside you, his thumb rubbing at your slippery clit. He alternates his free arm between shielding you from people pushing as they pass by, and cupping your breast through your dress. In all your writhing, your ass continues to grind against Xavier’s cock. Under his jeans, he’s leaking so profusely that your body rubs around the slick, creating a sticky mess.
Xavier pumps inside you, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, the feeling of risk and wrong.
“Please – Please don’t stop,” you pant, looking up at him with starry eyes.
The look of complete and utter bliss on your gorgeously flushed face makes Xavier bite his lip, “I’ll never stop, angel.”
You clench down hard on his fingers at the endearing pet name, one he so rarely called you. It makes you writhe against his hot and hard body, pressed firmly into you, like a puzzle piece.
With your back still turned to him, you reach your hand back to where his bulge presses into you. With careful hands, you cup the massive swell of his manhood, biting your lip when he moans into your ear, teeth grazing against your earlobe.
You rub him enthusiastically through his jeans, enjoying the way he writhes under your touch, his cock straining through the tight restraint of his pants.
“You’re evil,” Xavier groans, pressing kisses into your neck, trying to contain the moans he wants to make for you.
You lean your head back, staring at him through hooded eyes, “Should I stop?”
Xavier holds you tight, almost crushing you, to keep you from stopping.
“No. Never.”
You giggle, turning back to the club stage, watching the DJ perform, hands finding their way back to Xavier’s crotch. His pants are heavy and breathy by your ear, fingers scissoring in and out of you furiously.
Soon enough, the feeling of just your plush body against his isn’t enough anymore. He needs more.
With his fingers never pausing, he asks, his voice smooth and sultry, “I need to be inside of you, is that okay?”
“Please,” you whisper huskily, grinding against his fingers, “I want you.”
You can feel Xavier shifting behind you, pulling out his cock. He feverishly pulls your panties down just slightly, so that they rest under your cheeks. He lifts your dress, enough to give him access but making sure you’re still covered. He would rather die than let anyone see your precious body.
As the music comes to a peak, the beat building alongside your release, Xavier slips his erection into you. You’re thankful for the heavy bass of the drop because you quite literally cannot hold back the scream that rips from your lips as he pushes himself into the hilt.
One of his hands travels from your waist to under the front of your dress. When he finds your clit, he pinches down hard.
“You’re so cute,” Xavier hisses into your ear, picking up his pace, “Were you jealous earlier?”
“N-No! Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” you whimper, your fingers gripping the arm he has buried between your legs.
“Mmm,” Xavier hums, clearly not convinced, “That’s alright, Y/N. You have nothing to be jealous of, ever.”
“I-I’m not – I wasn’t!” you gasp, forcing the words together as Xavier’s cock nearly finds its way into your throat. But at this point you knew he could see right through you.
“Would travel through time and space for you,” he murmurs, words full of a boundless affection, “I only see you.”
He puts all that same adoration and passion into the way he fucks up into you, holding you protectively in place, making sure no one so much as brushes against you.
Your moans are strangled when his cockhead angles into your g-spot, cutting off the drunken confessions on the tip of your tongue. Xavier’s girth was always something you had a hard time getting used to, and taking him standing was infinitely harder. Your inner thighs burned with the strain of how fully he stretches you out.
Xavier’s hand comes over to cover your mouth, his smile pressed against your throat. The alcohol makes Xavier irregularly chatty, his inhibitions lowered completely, “You’re so loud. Does it feel that good?”
Your eyes are rolled back mesmerized by the flashing lights, unable to discern what comes from the nightclub’s light show and what comes from the pleasure of Xavier’s poignant thrusts. You do your best to nod, your teeth sinking into Xavier’s palm to keep yourself conscious.
You’re nearly doubled over now, your jelly legs unable to hold you up, with only the support of Xavier’s strong hand against your cunt and his other arm wrapped around your chest. He holds you up as securely as he can, his own intoxication growing having not drank any water since you’d arrived at the club.
“Are you okay?”
Xavier’s head snaps up to see a club patron in front of you, a concerned look on his face as he kneels down to be eye-level with you. Xavier squick readjusts to make sure you’re covered.
Your eyes widen, trying to straighten up, “F-Fine!” You nearly scream as Xavier continues to thrust into you, his movement much more conspicuous but somehow more intense.
“Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”
You want to be kind, but you can really only focus on the way Xavier continues to fuck you, not even caring that the good Samaritan in front of you was this close to realizing what was happening. The fact that you were still very much drunk did not help.
“N-No, I’m fine,” you squeak, eyes rolling back when Xavier hits your g-spot. You can’t see him but you just know he’s enjoying the position he has you in. He smirks in satisfaction, grinding into your ass, his thick length nestling into your every nerve.
The man looks skeptical, especially at your unfocused hooded eyes, “Do you want some water?”
He’s about to reach out to touch you, when Xavier yanks you back, both arms wrapped protectively around you, “She’s fine.”
At Xavier’s harsh tone, the man recoils, looking up, almost as if he’s just noticing Xavier. He nods awkwardly before disappearing into the crowd.
Xavier resumes his vigor, kissing your neck and whispering, “Mine.”
“Now look who’s jealous,” you giggle languidly, gasping when Xavier drives into you harder.
“Not jealous. It’s just the truth,” he murmurs, tilting your head back to kiss you, fingers back on your clit.
His tongue explores your mouth excitedly, your pleasures quickly reaching a peak after coming close to being caught. Your body convulses around him, wanting him to push you into the oblivion of ecstasy.
“Always so tight,” Xavier groans, “I-I won’t last long like this…”
You squeal, your sounds drowned out by the vibrating music, “Ngh – me too Xavier.”
“G-Gonna cum,” Xavier gasps as your cunt strangles him, ripping away from your lips and panting for air.
You crane your neck back to look at him, your eyes wide with wonder and desperation. The blissed out look on your beautiful face makes Xavier groan, his hips stuttering into his climax.
“Cum for me, Xavier,” you beg, impossibly close as well, “Want to feel you.”
Xavier shuts his eyes, his body following your every command. His cock explodes inside you, filling you with a hot warmth that spreads all the way to your fingertips and toes. Xavier doesn’t speak as he cums, only suckling hungrily at your neck, moaning and whimpering into your bruised skin.
He keeps thrusting into you, even as his cum starts to leak out of your hole, wanting you to come undone too. Even when the overstimulation starts to border on pain, he refuses to stop.
His cum makes it so there’s zero resistance, only the pure pleasure of his cock against your throbbing gummy walls. Soon, you’re cumming too, screaming into the pulsating music, your climax crescendoing with the drop of the song. The symphony of it all, the alcohol, the threat of being caught by any one of the dozens of people around you, makes it one of your most intense orgasms yet.
Your body instinctively clenches down as you release, making you cream all over Xavier, a mix of both your arousals. Xavier watches in awe at the beautiful way you cum, for him. It’s enough to make him pump a few more ropes into you, even as his dick throbs sharply in protest.
Xavier hugs you to his chest tightly, holding onto you for support as his cock quivers inside you. You can feel his chest heaving against your back, shifting as he slips out of you and redoes his zipper. Xavier puts your panties back into place, pressing a faint trail of kisses along your shoulders.
Suddenly, the crowd feels suffocating and icky and you desperately want to be somewhere quieter with Xavier. You pull him out of the crowd, nudging throngs of drunk and horny patrons out of the way as you make your way to the bar. Xavier follows you sluggishly, his fingers barely closing over yours as you guide him out..
When you reach the bar, you order a water and turn to Xavier worriedly, cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“Xavier,” you urged, “Are you okay?”
Xavier’s eyes flutter open, his eyes slightly rolled back, “M’okay. Just sleepy.” You giggle, patting his face gently, realizing the haze in his eyes is a mix of intoxication and post-sex bliss.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re always so sleepy. Especially after…”
Despite Xavier’s eyes remaining closed, he smiles and mumbles as he leans against the wall next to the bar, “Can’t help it. You drain me.”
You blush furiously, despite it being loud enough where no one can hear you two. The bartender hands you a glass of water, and you bring it up to Xavier’s lips. Xavier’s eyelids flicker open, his long eyelashes fluttering as he takes in his surroundings again, like he’s so intoxicated off the alcohol and you that he can’t make sense of his bearings.
You take his chin into your palm, tilting him up gently so the water doesn’t spill. Xavier drinks obediently, not letting a single drop go to waste. His position against the wall makes it so that you tower a few inches over him, so he has to look up at you through his eyelashes. With each gulp of the icy water he never breaks eye contact with you, staring at you with all the awe and devotion in the world.
His hands gently grip your wrists, nuzzling into your hand. The way he watches you makes you want to squirm, his eyes glimmering under the flashing lights. His azure eyes feel like they hold the weight of an entire galaxy, but in reality it’s the reflection of you that makes his eyes sparkle with the brilliance of the stars.
“Hey! There you two are!”
You whip your head around to see Tara excitedly hurrying over to you as Xavier finishes the last of the water.
You turn to her, “Tara! I’m sorry, I found Xavier but then we got…caught up.”
She smiles and shakes her head. There’s a knowing mischief in her eyes, as if she doesn’t believe you, “It’s alright! I made some friends.”
She looks at Xavier. Even though you no longer hold up the empty glass to his lips, he still stares at you with the same starstruck look, a post-orgasm mist over his entire face.
“Why does he look like that?”
Your cheeks burn and you scramble to find an excuse, “Oh, he’s fine! He’s just drunk. And sleepy. Very sleepy.”
Tara grabs your chin, tilting it up in a squint, inspecting you. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, if maybe your false eyelashes came off, but when you look down at your shoulder you see exactly what she’s looking at.
A bright red, purpling bruise. In the exact shape of Xavier’s lips.
“Oh, I bet he’s sleepy.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.7k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, drunk zayne, needy zayne, jealous zayne, couch sex, booby sucking, pretty vanilla tbh, slightly sub zayne, zayne begs a lot, prone bone, doggy, choking, making out, cumming in coochie, mentions of birth control usage, zayne is a lightweight
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: original inspo | video | art (credit to @roschea-arts)
You stumble into your apartment, nearly tripping over the threshold as Zayne’s heavy arm slumps over your shoulder for support. You kick your heels off, briefly bending down to slip Zayne’s shoes off, before you lead him to sit on your couch.
“Sit here while I get some water for you, okay?” you whisper worriedly against Zayne’s nearly unconscious face, pressing a kiss to his heated and clammy temple. Zayne doesn’t respond, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a shallow breath, nodding gently.
Well, this was definitely not how you’d expected tonight to go.
When you’d invited Zayne as your date to the annual UNICORN hosted Hunters’ Association Banquet, you expected it to be a relatively uneventful night. You never expected your raven-haired surgeon boyfriend to get drunk. In fact, you’d never seen him so much as tipsy since you’d known him.
And that was something Zayne intentionally made sure of; alcohol was not something he indulged in, ever.
Except when you’re so busy socializing all night that he gets unbearably bored, curious, and desperate for your attention.
So that’s how he ended up absolutely plastered off two cocktails. In his defense they were deceptively fruity and sweet, the rims coated in thick crystals of sugar. Truly his kryptonite.
So when Zayne grabs your wrist while you’re talking to a fellow Hunter, spinning you gently to his hard chest, you’re completely taken aback.
“Apologies. Can I steal my girlfriend for a moment?”
Your colleague, standing before the both of you, looks flustered at Zayne’s commanding voice, nodding fervently before he turns to leave. His face is pale, not realizing you’d brought a guest to the banquet, much less a guest that looked as handsome and imposing as Zayne. You whip around, eyebrows raised, to face the surgeon in question.
His face is uncharacteristically red, the tips of his ears burning so adorably bright. The first few buttons of his shirt had been undone, the collar disheveled, like he’d pulled at it until the enclosures gave way. What’s more, the tension that colored his words, alarming and unusual.
“Zayne? What’s wrong?” you reach up to touch his cheek worriedly, gasping at how warm his normally chilly skin was, “Are you not feeling well?”
Zayne releases your wrist, instead capturing your hand on his jaw with his own palm, pressing you deeper into his cheek. He practically purrs into your touch, nuzzling into your hand warmly.
“You feel nice.” His voice is low, almost a rough whisper against the cheerful laughter of the night.
It was very unlike Zayne to be so blatant with his affections, especially in front of either of your colleagues. In this case, the packed banquet hall of UNICORN’s annual Hunter’s banquet, filled with curious and nosy onlookers, peering at the two of you embracing in the middle of the party.
Perhaps the bustling activity became too overwhelming for Zayne, especially given that you had been pulled every which way to discuss your recent mission successes. You’d hardly had a chance to make sure he was doing okay.
“Did you want to leave? I can —”
Zayne pulls you closer to him until your bodies are pressed together tightly, his slender fingers holding your waist in place. You squeak in surprise, blushing as you try to ignore the prying eyes of your colleagues as Zayne strokes your cheek, fingers playing with your loose strands of hair.
“Who was that?” Zayne’s voice is deceptively calm against the top of your head as he breathes in your familiar scent, masking the demand and restraint lurking just below the surface. Your pheromones calm him down slightly, making him feel much more at ease.
“Who was who?”
Zayne bends down to reach your ear, his normally calm and stoic voice much more shaky than usual, “That man, who was making you laugh. He seemed friendly.”
Zayne’s words tickle your ear, making you shiver. It’s then you can smell the alcohol on him, as he leans down to whisper in your ear, the bitter scent of vodka mixing with the faint smell of his cologne. Suddenly the questions of his irregular behavior clicked.
You lean back to look at him in shock, “Zayne?! Are you drunk?”
Zayne looks sheepish, his hazel eyes still intense, “No. I don’t – hic – don’t think so.”
You want to laugh at his incriminating hiccup, the surgeon undoubtedly intoxicated. That fact is only confirmed to you when you tip-toe up to peck his lips and taste the bittersweet trace of alcohol on him.
“You were so busy, I got curious and decided to...indulge. Just this once,” Zayne admits, his eyes never leaving yours as he holds you close.
You don’t speak, in shock at the way his words are slightly whiny and sulky all at once, something you never heard from Zayne. Zayne was never one to be jealous, and much less to actually show that jealousy.
Zayne’s eyes lower, glowing at you in a soft regret, “I’m sorry.”
You giggle, resting your head on his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. For that brief moment, you forget all about the watchful eyes around you, only able to focus on the man you loved before you.
“How many drinks did you have?”
He pauses, looking genuinely deep in thought as he tries to recall the night, “Two, no…maybe three.”
You grin wordlessly. Zayne never drank, so he was undoubtedly a lightweight, that was no surprise. But you would’ve thought it would take more than three drinks to knock the formidable man off his ass.
Zayne’s jaw clenched as he admires how beautiful you look tonight, his wandering alcohol-fueled desires pushing him to want to see much more, “Would it be alright if we called it a night?”
You nod, peering up at him, “Of course, are you not feeling well from the alcohol?”
Zayne averts his eyes, clearing his throat. His neck bobs against his undone collar, his tie hanging loosely around his chest.
“I’m alright. I just…want to be alone with you.”
By the time you arrived at your apartment, Zayne had gotten considerably more drunk, the alcohol being further absorbed into his bloodstream.
You hurriedly bring him a cool glass of water, standing in between his thighs, over his limp body. Zayne’s head is thrown back against the cushion of your couch, already having yanked off his suit jacket and tie, the articles of clothing strewn over the arm of the seat, his neck and collar exposed. His snowy pale skin is splotched red, practically radiating a wave of heat.
Your fingers cup his sharp jaw, tilting his chin up, shifting to hold his heavy head in the palm of your hand, stroking his cheek lovingly. Zayne’s eyes flicker up to yours as you tilt him up, his glasses slightly fogged up from the heated crimson flush on his cheeks. His eyes light up when they meet yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he fights to keep his eyes open. You bite your lip, trying to keep your wide smile at bay. He looked so utterly adorable like this, looking up so affectionately obedient like this.
You bring the glass gently up to his lips, encouraging him to drink. Zayne obeys, lips latching onto the edge of the cup as you tilt it forward, gently nudging his chin upwards with your other hand.
His eyes flutter open at the feeling of your touch, his golden emerald irises trained solely on you as he drinks, refusing to look away. He’s so focussed on you that dribbles of water stream down his chin as he gulps down the entire glass, falling onto his collar.
His eyes never leave yours as he chugs the entire glass of refreshing water, the whites of his eyes shining in the dim lighting of your apartment. If anyone else saw the way Zayne looked at you, they’d swear they could see hearts reflected in them as he drank from your hands. He looked at you as if his entire world spun around you, the center of his universe.
When you pull away, Zayne’s eyes still don’t leave yours. Instead, they appear to become more intense, more fiery.
“Zayne? Do you want more water?”
He doesn’t answer. You’re too distracted by the incensed pools of peridot when Zayne yanks you onto his lap, lips capturing yours hungrily.
–
“Ngh – Zayne!” you moan, pulling away from his demanding and bruising lips. Zayne grants you a brief break to breathe, but his fingers firmly hold your hips in place atop his erection that strains against his buckled pants, the two of you nestled deep into the couch cushion.
He gives you a second before he’s yanking your chin towards him again, soft mouth crushed against yours in an instant. Your lips are captured gently between his teeth, his hunger for you insatiable. The taste of alcohol is still faint on his tongue, and he wants nothing more than to overwhelm himself with the taste of you.
You’re completely engulfed by him, the ferocity of his mouth against yours, the warmth of his breath against your tongue. Zayne’s jaw alternates, side to side, trying to give himself the best access to you he can possibly get. The cool touch of metal grazes against your cheeks, his glasses pressing against you in the vigor of his embrace. He groans in frustration into your mouth, forcing himself to briefly pull away.
Before you can even question him, he’s yanking his misted up glasses off by the temples, tossing them onto your coffee table without a second glance, without a single care. His eyes are hooded with desire, his glasses no longer obstructing you from him. They shut sensually when he leans back in, lips parting as his glasses clatter louding against the table.
He says nothing, smashing his lips into yours once again. You can vaguely feel the distinct bump of his nose, pressing into your skin, when he grabs the back of your head, pulling you harder against his all consuming hunger.
His tongue is unbelievably tender against yours, despite how urgently and desperately he devours you. His fingers press into the divots of your arched back, his arms are completely wrapped around you, bringing you into an affectionate embrace as he continues to consume you whole. His fingers stroke up and down the half exposed expanse of your back, enjoying how soft you feel against his big hands.
You grind down onto his cock as you try and match his passion, your panties sticking to your soaked folds. Your thighs are spread so widely against his legs, that the dampness smears against his dress pants, your dress doing little to hold anything back.
Zayne hisses at the delicious pressure, lips leaving yours to gasp into your ear, his hot breath caressing the sensitive skin.
“D-Don’t,” he gulps deeply, alcohol and anticipation making him trip over his words, “Unless you're willing to take responsibility for the consequences.”
You shiver at his words, leaning in to kiss his reddened earlobe, “And if I am?”
And that’s how you find yourself naked, sweaty, and writhing on your back, under the pressure of Zayne’s half naked body on top of you, his cock ravaging every inch of your poor cunt.
Zayne is a mumbling and moaning mess above you, droplets of sweat beading on his bright red temples, his damp hair dangling below his forehead. His unbuttoned dress shirt flies wildly, his thick muscles twitching every time his lower half drives into you like a madman. If it weren’t for the sweat lining your back, you’d undoubtedly be pushed around the couch like a ragdoll under Zayne’s furious passion.
You can barely see Zayne’s eyes, his dangling bangs obscuring much of his frantic face. You do your best to sit up, your chin on your chest, watching the way Zayne’s glistening body jackhammers into you, his rhythm erratic and desperate.
Trying not to drool, you watch his abdominal muscles twitch, his briefs and dress pants hanging off his hips. He’d been so eager to bury himself inside of you that he didn’t even take off his clothing, instead pulling his cock out from under the top of the waistband of his briefs. It’s so heavy and thick with excitement that the restraint of his brief’s waistband is no match for it.
“M’sorry,” Zayne mumbles, so slurred you barely even hear it through the clinking of his undone belt, hanging off his waist.
“Wh-what?” you pant, tugging at the sweat-soaked shirt that clings to his back.
“Didn’t mean to get so intoxicated,” he pants breathlessly, almost sounding guilty, “I’m sorry.”
Your heart clenches at the vulnerability shining in his eyes. You know he’s not used to letting himself feel his emotions like this, to really give into his needs and desires.
“Zayne, don’t apologize,” you whimper through the pleasure, stroking his cheek, “You’re allowed to let go sometimes.”
Your words nearly make Zayne snarl, his pelvis slapping into your ass, his hands elevating hips, your thighs wrapped tightly into his sides.
“You’re so good to me,” he rasps, eyes rolling back as his praises make your body instinctively clench down, “I–I love you.”
“A-ahh nghn – love you s’much Zayne,” you squeal as he thrusts even deeper into you, his confession only increasing the passion he feels for you in the drunken moment.
You’re surprised when you feel his damp hair pressing against your forehead, his cool lips brushing a soft kiss onto it, deceptively gentle compared to the way he ravages your wet heat.
“M’always thinking about you,” Zayne moans, voice muffled as he kisses your forehead over and over, unable to keep his lips, his hands, off of you.
“I think about y’too Za–ayne,” you pant, trying to focus on forming coherent words through the shape of his erection being molded into your core. You knew just how vulnerable the fog of alcohol had made Zayne and wanted more than anything to reassure him.
But his cock stretching you out, nearly the width of a clenched fist, made that so difficult.
“You looked – you look ravishing tonight,” he slurs, kissing down your cheek and onto your neck, “Had a hard time tonight, watching you – hic – be the most beautiful girl in the room.”
Your chest flutters and you blush, clenching onto him, “H-Hardly.”
Zayne’s eyebrows furrow, giving you a pointed thrust, making your breasts jiggle at the force, “Look at what you do to me.”
His fingers cup your breast forcefully, squeezing down on your poor nipple, “You know I’m not one for jealousy…”
“But even I am not immune when you look like that, giving everyone but me your attention.”
“Sorry, my love,” you murmur, trying your best to speak through his frantic thrusts, “You know you’re the one I come home to at the end of the day.”
Zayne’s eyes darken with satisfaction, his fingers twirling your nipple in between them, “I suppose. But does that give you the right to let men flirt with you shamelessly all night?”
“Zayne, they weren’t —” But apparently protesting was a mistake, because Zayne only starts to hammer into you harder.
“They were,” he growls drunkenly, letting his emotions take control for a split second, “But I can’t really blame them, not when you look like this. Not when you feel this perfect around me.”
You whine at his words, his simultaneous threats and praises making it impossible for you to think straight.
“I-I’m soorry,” you find yourself apologizing, wanting to please Zayne, “Won’t do it again, I’ll b-be good!”
“No need to – hah – apologize, my love,” Zayne groans, “Not when I plan on reminding you exactly who you belong to tonight, all night.”
Your body convulses around him, knowing just how much stamina Zayne has, just how serious his slurred words are. Zayne’s hips falter, his body buckling into you.
“You’re s-oo tight,” he groans brokenly, letting his head fall down to your chest, “All for me, right?
“Allll f’you! Only you!” you cry, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt when his teeth close over your nipple, nibbling gently. You claw at his back, desperately wanting to be able to touch his bare skin, but his white dress shirt is in the way.
“That’s my girl,” he moans, words muffled by the way his tongue circles around your hardened peaks, suckling like he was trying to find the antidote to intoxication, “So good for me.”
As his thrusts grow sloppier, you know he’s coming close to his end. But you’re surprised when he pulls out suddenly, leaving you feeling empty.
“W-Why?” you demand, leaning up on your elbows in protest. Your eyes widen, almost salivating, when you see the way Zayne is gripping the base of his cock, the thick head red, angry, and ready to burst. He curses, forcing himself to take deep breaths, desperately trying to hold his orgasm back. He was learning that alcohol significantly decreased his normally endless supply of stamina.
“Don’t want to – ngh – finish yet,” he pants, hooking his arm under your back and flipping you over so that your back faces him, your hips arched slightly off the couch. He quickly takes off his pants that are pooled by his knees, his briefs still clinging to his muscled thighs.
You squeak in surprise when you feel the wet smack of Zayne’s cock against your ass, the surgeon hissing at the painful yet arousing sensation. The sting helps to keep him from exploding right onto your beautiful body.
“Ngh – Zaaayne!” you squeal when Zayne shoves himself back into you, parting your cheeks to give himself better access. You claw at your couch as he picks up his speed, rhythm still unsteady.
“I’m sorry,” Zayne apologizes, his words bordering on frenzied babbles as he pounds into you, his heavyset balls slapping against your clit, “M’sorry, love. Let me make it better.”
He leans down, pressing a trail of kisses down your spine, his pelvis rippling against your rear. His veiny forearms cage you into the couch, his foot lifting to step onto the cushion, right by your waist. With his leg raising as leverage, he can truly jackhammer into you.
Zayne goes absolutely feral in this position, his fingers coming up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging gently as he bounces up and down on your ass. The sounds of skin against skin, drunken moans, and moist squelches resounds like a symphony in the early morning lighting of your apartment.
His grasp tightens in your hair, his other hand kneading the plush of your ass as it ripples against his thrusts. His voice lowers, throwing his head back with a moan, “Been waiting all night to have you like this.”
“Oh-oh God!” you cry when he thrusts into you, particularly hard and deep, making you see stars, “Zayne I-I can’t – I’m so close!”
Zayne hoists you onto all fours, gently lifting your upper body by your neck so that you’re pressed firmly against him with your knees holding you up. He kneels behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other secures your neck against his chest.
“Me too, angel,” Zayne pants into your ear, his breath hot and moist. You can feel the truth in his words, his thighs shaky against yours, his thrusts erratic.
“Please, let me cum in you,” Zayne rasps.
“When have I ever denied you?” you respond. Zayne came inside you nearly every time you two were intimate, ever since you’d started birth control.
“It’s a waste, if it’s not inside you,” Zayne slurs, “You’ll take it, right?”
When you don’t respond, too wrapped up in the bliss of it all, Zayne’s hand descends to pinch your nipple. The power of his thrusts, the tease of his hands, his aura. He commands authority,
“Tell me you’ll take it all, for me.”
“I will, I will! P-please Zayne, give it to me!”
Zayne groans, grip tightening against your body, hugging you for dear life, “That’s my girl, that’s it, just like that.
Zayne has always been vocal, but his drunken ramblings have taken it to another level. You clench down, ready to come undone to the sound of his filthy praises.
Zayne is close behind you, hands kneading your breasts, balls slapping against your clit, “It’s coming Y/N, take it. Take it for me, please.”
You scream in response, cunt spasming around the last of his messy ruts. Zayne’s own strangled groans mix with the sound of wet flesh slapping against each other. You can feel every beautiful ribbon of white hot cum painting your insides, coating every inch of your waiting womb.
Zayne’s skin often felt ice-cold, but his cum always came out so hot and heedy. And now, with the flush of alcohol still clouding his circulation, his milky ropes of seed nearly made you feverish.
Zayne slumps against you, his body spent, drained bone-dry. The weight of him against your quivering muscles is too much, and your thighs give out, sending you crashing into the couch. He catches you before you can slam face-first into the carpeted floor.
He sets your limp body gently into the couch, shrugging off his white button-up.
“Zayne,” you murmur groggily, savoring the image of his muscles peaking through his open shirt, “Come cuddle.”
The corner of his lip twitches, “I will, sweetheart. Let me clean you up first.”
Using the clean inside of his shirt, he carefully wipes off the slick that collects at your inner thighs, before it can pool onto the couch. Your legs are putty in his hands, Zayne cleaning you with the utmost care and tenderness.
When he’s done, he settles beside you on the couch, shifting you so that your neck rests on his forearm. He holds you close with one arm, the other drawing lazy circles into your stomach.
Zayne turns his head to the side, pressing a kiss into your temple, “Thank you. For taking care of me tonight.”
You can tell by Zayne’s calm and steady tone that he’s sobered up quite a bit from the orgasm, the control returning to his deep timbre.
You giggle, nuzzling deeper into his arm, the hairs of his underarm tickling your shoulder, “I hardly did anything.” In the comfortable silence, your eyes start to flutter closed.
“You did more than you know,” Zayne whispers, the tender smile in his voice unmistakeable. You simply nod, muttering incoherently as you fall into a deep and sated slumber.
“You are everything.”
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.9k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, car sex, publix sex/slight voyeurism, sex while pulled over in da passenger seat, bottom raf, riding, face sitting, rafayel is a MUNCH, oral f!receiving, jealous raf, drunk rafayel, protective rafayel, somewhat mentions of violence, unprotected sex, no pull out ever
The night road ahead of you is peacefully calm, the drive back to Rafayel’s house a peaceful and scenic trip. There's very few cars beside yours, well Rafayel’s, on the main roads back, likely because it was close to 2am.
You were honestly having way too much fun driving Rafayel’s car, thoroughly enjoying the purr of the beautiful Benz. You didn’t have the opportunity to drive many cars, let alone a Gran Turismo.
Your fingers tap gently along the rim of the steering wheel, admiring the elegant LED lights that kept you awake. Rafayel had the car’s interior lights set to a blushed lavender color, ever since you’d said it was your favorite setting. It reminded you of the pink in his cotton candy eyes.
Your eyes flicker to your right, briefly checking on Rafayel as he groans beside you in the passenger seat.
He sat with his arm propped up against the passenger side window, his head resting on his palm. His breathing was still shallow, his eyes closed in a restless and light sleep. The alcohol was no doubt making it difficult for him to rest.
You sigh to yourself, trying to think back to how the night had ended disastrously with him so damn drunk.
Rafayel had invited you as his date to one of his endless art exhibits, a few cities over from your home. Only this one was special.
When they’d unveiled his starring piece, a beautiful oil painting on a massive canvas that nearly reached the ceiling, you nearly fell to your knees.
Because Rafayel had painted the most exquisite portrait of you.
You, surrounded in ribbons of coral and seaweed, the most colorful globs of intricate paint surrounding you, a mosaic of sea glass. You, dancing in the endless sea of pastel turquoise. You, in Lemuria. His home.
Rafayel had painted you countless times before, you were his muse after all. Even if he never admitted that openly to you. But this was different, he’d never so openly shared you with this world before. Never wanted to open himself up like this, to anyone, to you.
It was beautiful as it was magnificent. It made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world, more gorgeous than you’d ever felt in your entire life. The way he’d put paint to canvas and created literal magic.
It appeared others thought so too. All the patrons attending the gala that night clamored around the oil canvas, press snapping photos, writers grabbing at Rafayel, trying to get anything for their tabloids.
It was nothing out of the norm. You’d become quite used to the glitz, glamor, and madness that came with being his girlfriend.
What was unexpected, was the attention you got, as the subject of the painting.
The people who wanted a piece of you, the stunning woman in Rafyel’s newest piece. Rafayel did his best to keep you comfortable, shooing away the throws of people trying to get even a morsel of anything from you.
“Rafayel. It’s okay. I can handle it,” you give him your best reassuring smile, “Go mingle with your guests, I’ll be fine.”
Rafayel looks reluctant, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, unwilling to let go. Eventually you convince him, with the promise of a reward later if he listened, to go speak to the serious sponsors and buyers that demanded his attention.
“Never should’ve painted that damn thing,” he muttered as he walked off, looking back at you as Thomas dragged him off. He should’ve known sharing you with the world would have driven him insane.
So you spent the rest of the night trying to be as sociable as possible, not wanting to upset any of Rafayel’s guests. After a few hours you finally found a free moment, finding yourself in front of the portrait once again. Most of the people had cleared out, giving you a chance to really admire the masterpiece.
Rafayel was undeniably talented, maybe the most gifted artist in the world, you’d always thought so. But the way he painted you here was more than just art.
It was his heart on a canvas. And his heart, his entire world, was you. Every fiber of his soul, woven together into a tapestry of lustrous colors, each one depicting a different memory.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
You turn your head to the stranger’s voice, coming face to face with a handsome man, clad head to toe in the most luxurious brands. He stands so uncomfortably close to you that you can smell the nauseating cologne wafting off of him. And yet it’s his aura that makes your skin crawl uncomfortably.
He fills in your awkward silence, eyes looking you up and down, “Definitely not as beautiful as the real thing.”
You really don’t know how to respond to the stranger’s boldness, in shock at how forward he’s being. Your relationship with Rafayel was no secret, the paparazzi having photographed the two of you publicly many times. And you’d walked into the gala on Rafayel’s arm.
“Thank you,” you say curtly, offering a small smile, trying to return your attention to the display.
“I’m going to buy it, you know. And then maybe after, I can buy you a drink?” when his hand lands on your bare shoulder you flinch back, ready to resort to your tactical training. The thought of this man buying a portrait of you makes you nauseous.
Before you can give him a piece of your mind, he’s falling backward with a surprised yelp.
“Hands off the art,” an all-too familiar voice snarls, as he stands between you and the man. You’re too shell shocked to realize Rafayel is clearly drunk, his charismatic voice drawling muddily.
“Don’t touch me,” the man snaps, “I bought this piece, I legally own it.” The way he says ‘piece’ makes your blood boil, the misogyny dripping off his words.
Rafayel, drunk as he might be, catches on too. Fire burns in his eyes, matching the heat of his Evol. Thomas isn’t far behind, looking at you with desperation on his face, begging you to help him defuse the situation. Rafayel was spontaneous enough as it was, there was no telling the lengths he’d go to when he was intoxicated, especially when you were involved.
You reach your hand out, grasping Rafayel’s fingers and gently pulling him back towards you.
“He’s not worth it,” you whisper when Rafayel’s head snaps to you, his eyes softening instantly when they land on you. Rafayel spares the man, rubbing his wrist with a grimace, a glance. You wrap your arm around Rafayel’s waist tugging him close to you and trying to lead him out of the nearly empty gala.
Rafayel takes a deep and shaky breath, before nodding slightly. As he turns to leave with you, he glances back to the man and Thomas, his chin raised.
“It’s not for sale.”
“B-But I already wrote the check,” the man blew up, face red with anger and disbelief.
Rafayel smiles, a fake and genuinely terrifying smile, “I don’t care how many checks you write. You’re never looking at her again.”
It’s enough to even send chills down your spine.
With those words, Rafayel exited the gallery with you on his arm, you rubbing soothing circles into his back. It was rare Rafayel got full blown drunk; you’d seen him tipsy numerous times, but he was always careful not to cross the line into completely losing control of his inhibitions.
As he slumped in the passenger seat of his car, he briefly explained just how he found himself so shit-faced.
“Everyone was taking your time,” he slurred, breathing heavily. The alcohol made him bluntly honest, much more so than he’d normally be about something like this.
“Oh, Rafayel…” you giggle, bending over to latch his seatbelt in, “I know, it’s usually you getting the attention, it must have been weird to share it. I’m sorry.”
Rafayel scoffs, his head resting on the window, “S’not why I was upset. I don’t like sharing you.”
You bite your lip to fight the smile that threatens to sneak its way onto your face, “Why didn’t you just come back?”
“Was trying to distract myself. Didn’t want to disappoint you,” he mutters, his eyes closed and his arms folded across his chest as you start the car, “I know you wanted me to talk to the annoying old farts.”
And then he promptly dozed off, like a precious little baby.
You were about 15 minutes from his place when Rafayel stirred awake from the mere feeling of your hand on his thigh. It was far too dark to see the tent growing in his pants, all from your fingers stroking his sensitive thighs, even when he was unconscious.
“Hey,” you murmur softly, giving him a smile when you see the movement in the corner of your eye, “You feeling okay? I have water in my bag.”
“P-Pull over,” Rafayel slurs, still clearly drunk. His eyes are glued to your palm on his leg. Not even he knows why the innocent touch has him so worked up and feral.
“What?!” you exclaim in a mix of disbelief and shock, “We’re so close to home –”
“Pull over,” he urges you again, the strain between his legs growing painful, “Please.”
His urgency makes you nervous, and you quickly find a secluded area you can pull over, turning your hazards on when you do so.
“Do you need to throw up?” you turn to him worriedly, grasping his thigh tighter in your fingers and rubbing soothingly, unsure of what to do.
Rafayel groans at your unknowingly innocent actions, rubbing his hand down his face, which only makes you worry more.
You undo your seatbelt so you can sit on your knees and face him, your hands still rubbing up and down his thighs, hoping to make him feel better.
Rafayel takes that opportunity to undo his own seatbelt, hoisting you out of your seat and onto his lap. You try to muffle your scream as he effortlessly carries you onto his lap, cramped between his body and the front dash. It always surprised you just how powerful Rafayel’s body was despite his toned and slender build.
“Rafayel!” you squeal as he sits you on his lap, “What are you doing?!”
He doesn’t speak, only looking up at you with big wet eyes. He spreads your thighs so that they cage his own legs, his hands resting on your sumptuous hips. Despite his strong and possessive hold, you’re still able to twist around to grab your tote bag, pulling out a plastic water bottle.
“Don’t need to throw up,” he mumbles, looking up at you through his long and dark eyelashes, “Jus’ need you.”
With his hand on your back he pushes you down until your chest is flush with his, capturing your lips in a feverish all-consuming kiss. The bitter and sharp taste of alcohol is still strong on his tongue, his lips impatiently messy and insistent. Rafayel rocks up into you as he loses himself into your embrace, his very clear and prominent erection begging for attention.
“R-Raf!” you pull away, even at his whiny refusal, hands still tugging at the clothing at your hips, “Did you really make me pull over for this?” Your eyes dart around nervously, making sure there’s no cars around you. But it wasn’t necessary, Rafayel’s windows were so tinted that even if you had your nose pressed to the glass you wouldn’t be able to see much.
“Come on, at least drink some water while we’re pulled over,” you untwist the cap of your reusable water bottle.
“No,” Rafayel pouts at you, the rose flecks in his eyes glow as he looks up pleadingly at you, “I don’ want water, wanna kiss you.”
You can’t help but laugh, despite the risky and precarious situation you find yourself in. That situation being Rafayel’s very excited crotch.
“Don’t laugh,” Rafayel broods, his bottom lip jutted out, shiny with a sheen of saliva, “I wanted to be with you all night, ‘specially when everyone was getting your attention.” He presses his chin onto your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your body wash and pressing wet kisses into your neck.
“Wan’ my reward now,” Rafayel slurs, his wandering fingers hooking under the thin strap of your evening dress, slipping it off your shoulders.
“You’re drunk Rafayel,” you reason firmly, even though your body is already betraying you. Your thighs squirm, widening instinctively for him, excitement pooling at the apex of your legs.
“Sooo?” Rafayel’s head fall backs onto the headrest, “Just give me a taste, please?”
You want to keep a level head, deny his insane request, but his hard body against your pliable one makes you desperate for more. Besides…the windows are almost completely blacked out and you were in a very secluded upper-end neighborhood, where all the homes had nearly miles of yard between them.
“Fine…” you concede, “But only if you drink some water.”
Rafayel’s eyes practically radiate, nodding eagerly and raising his lips to the cool bottle. His sudden willingness is comical, and you smile fondly at him as you help him to drink. Rafayel’s fingers squeeze against your waist, your soft skin making him grow thicker and hotter by the second.
His body unconsciously grinds against you as he drinks the water, eyes open wide with a faux innocence, staring right at your heated and flushed cheeks. He’s so focussed on admiring the irresistible look of desire on your face as he relentlessly rocks into you, that he doesn’t even feel the cold streams of water trickling down his shaky chin.
His fingers trace delicate and intricate shapes into your waist, eyes hooded at the feeling of your heat against his throbbing member. His eyes never leave yours as he finishes the last of the water, looking up at you through his thick purple eyelashes. His eyes shine brightly, the pinks in them accentuated by the LEDs of the car, watching you with a vast sea of desire.
Just as you remove the bottle from his lips, Rafayel lowers the angle of the passenger seat, as far down as it can possibly go.
You shriek in panic, clutching onto Rafayel as the chair dips suddenly, limbs flailing wildly. Rafayel takes that opportunity to lift your thighs, hoisting you nearly to the top of the passenger seat until you’re kneeling with his face in between your thighs.
“R-Rafayel!” you yelp, gripping onto the leather backseat for balance, thighs squirming at the feeling of his warm breath fanning against your exposed lips. The slick that had pooled in your panties makes you much more sensitive to his heated pants. Practically dripping onto his face.
“You promised a taste,” he mumbles, all consumed by the way you glisten against the dim indoor lights of his car. He doesn’t let you get another word in before he’s pulling your panties to the side and licking a fat strip up your slit, all the way to your clit.
“Ngh – Raf!” If it weren’t for his strong hands on your thighs you would’ve crushed him with the way your knees buckled and you nearly fell on top of him.
Rafayel doesn’t speak, only a filthy string of wet slurps and strung out moans audible, this tongue writhing against you, positively starved. The way he makes out with your cunt makes your muscles melt, your body nearly melding into the seats.
Rafayel can feel your shaky legs struggling to keep you up and he pulls your hips down, guiding you to sit on his face. In your surprise, you fall completely, a choked sob of bliss ripping from your mouth when Rafayel completely engulfs your weeping cunt into his mouth.
You're a babbling mess of the most lewd cries, your thighs clenching unbearably at the pleasure Rafayel’s tongue forces into you. You try not to put too much weight on Rafayel, but he only pushes you down, wanting you to crush his skull.
“Tastes so sweet,” Rafayel moans into you, the vibrations of his praises reverberating through every single one of your nerve endings. As he eats you with a relentless excitement, his eager nose strokes along your folds, gathering your arousal with every stroke.
“And it’s all for me,” he whines in the most pussy drunken voice you’ve ever heard from him, likely from the heavy intoxication, “No one else's, just mine.”
You can tell he’s still reeling from the encounter at the gala, with the man who’d wanted to buy the piece he’d painted for you. Just reassuring himself of things he already knew to be fact.
“And you’re mine,” you gasp through the sparks in your vision, wrought with pleasure. You do your best to keep your nails out of the expensive leather upholstery, tearing at Rafayel’s skin instead.
He grunts with the sting of your scratches, the pain fueling his excitement, which he funnels into the way he devours you, slurping up every single drop that pools down your lips.
With one hand on your thigh, he palms himself through his dress pants, jerking furiously.
It isn’t long before he yanks you away with a desperate gasp, carrying you back down onto his lap, “Need to be inside you now, ‘kay?”
The ears ring with the whiplash, the pleasure being yanked away suddenly, staring at Rafayel with dumbfounded wide eyes. You barely register when he takes his bare cock out, rubbing it up and down your absolutely drenched folds, your dress bunched to your waist.
He holds himself firm in his fingers by the base, squeezing down as he rubs up and down your glistening slit, peering up at your rosy cheeks.
“Baby?” he huffs, sounding faraway, “Can I?”
You barely even register your nod, your body moving on its own volition. Rafayel grins, lining himself up and not wasting another second before sinking himself into you, his favorite place in the entire world.
Your face is stuck in a perpetual oh as Rafayel sinks all the way into you, his veins especially prominent in his intoxication. You can almost feel them throbbing as they squeeze against your tight walls, his hips flattering when he feels himself hit the soft walls of your g-spot.
“Ngh – I love you, Y/N,” Rafayel moans, his arms coming up to wrap around your back, pulling you tightly against his torso.
You nuzzle your head into Rafayel’s chest, needing the support as he starts to rock into you, bouncing your body off his lap with the strength of his thighs.
“O-Oh God,” you whimper into his chest, letting him man handle you against himself, too overwhelmed by the way he’d made you feel with his tongue, and now his cock.
‘J-Jus’ like that, baby,” Rafayel mewls into the crown of your head, taking in deep lungfuls of your scent. His arms are wrapped so tightly around you that you almost can’t breathe, but you only want him to hold you harder, tighter.
You can’t even be bothered to care that you’re fucking in such a public area, the risk of getting caught just a faraway thought. The only thing you can find yourself caring about is the way Rafayel drives deeper into your guts, forcing you to look at him as he buries himself into you.
“Hah – pretty girl,” he breathes out, his body slowing. You realize the alcohol must be making him tired, and you force your weight onto your knees.
“L-Let me, Raf,” you whisper, sitting up as much as you can until your head brushes against the car roof. Rafayel watches you with wondrous eyes as you begin to ride him.
“Oo-oh shiit,” he groans, mesmerized by the way you roll your body into him, “You're so perfect, Y/N. Just like that, please don’t s-stop.”
You whimper, biting your lip and trying to control the way his cock has your body screaming for release. You lean back onto his knees, one hand grappling at the window for leverage, the other cupping his balls.
Your hand is met with the wet condensation of the frosted window, the mixture of yours and Rafayel’s torrid breaths fogging up the interior completely. It’s such a sensual sight that you clench down on Rafayel, thinking about the passion of this moment, in the confined space of his favorite car.
Rafayel lets out the most delicious string of moans and expletives as you gently massage his balls in your fingers, fondling them delicately, “Oh God, that feels so good, you feel – angh – amazing.”
You throw all your energy into rolling your hips against Rafayel’s pelvis, wanting to use him until you were utterly spent.
“So big Raf,” you wail, struggling to keep up a rhythm as his size splits you in half, “I-I’m soo clo-ose.”
“Fuuck, me too,” Rafayel grunts, his neck craning back, back arching slightly at the way you ride him so filthily, “Don’t stop, I’m almost – ngh – there.”
His lewd words are your last straw, your hips stuttering as your cunt coils tightly around his length, your body orgasming so intensely through your tightly shut eyes. You desperately hope no one is nearby, because the muffled screams coming from the inside of the car were sure to be audible.
“You love me, right?” Rafayel slurs, his eyes wet and on the verge of coming undone, needing your words to be the final push.
“I love you Raf,” you gasp brokenly, still bouncing on his lap, “Soo-oo much!”
Your vice grip on him has Rafayel seeing stars of his own, the blinding pleasure signaling his own release. As he cums, he brings you back to his chest in a heated embrace, babbling into your mussed hair.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” comes his strangled mantra, the words overflowing from his wet puffy lips, “My Queen.”
You whimper as Rafayel fills you with rope after rope of his hot seed, it already beginning to seep out of your hole and down his still hard length. He gives you everything he has, the soul nearly being sucked out his body through his cockhead.
Rafayel digs his nails into your back as you overstimulate him with your languid thrusts, urging you to stop.
“N-No more,” he whines, holding you in place, “You’re trying to kill me.”
You still your hips with a chuckle, listening to his rapidly pounding heart, “I would never.”
Rafayel strokes your hair, holding you against his body, his cock softening and slipping out of you. You wince at the feeling of how much dampness leaks out of you, sitting up and trying to cup yourself so it doesn’t leak all over Rafayel’s seats.
But Rafayel holds you back down, “No. Stay.”
“Rafayel, it's going to ruin the seats!”
“I don’t care,” he mumbles, his voice still sluggish from the alcohol, nuzzling his face into your chest as he hugs you to keep you from moving.
“You care, you love this car. I love this car,” you whine, trying to pull away and keep the slick from spilling everywhere, but he doesn’t relent.
“Just say you love the car more than me,” he sulks, his bottom lip protruding.
You glare at him, before deciding to tease him and play along, “I love the car more than y–”
Rafayel covers your mouth with his hand, squinting at you, “If you finish that sentence I’ll scream.”
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