i write whatever i want, so please read the contents carefully before reading anything!!!
also, i don’t care who interacts with my writings. i have put enough warnings on every single work, and i am so tired of people lashing out at me. so once again, if you come across something you do not like, or anything that makes you uncomfortable, please be a mature person and scroll away, instead of complaining and ranting to the authors. let people write whatever they want!
and obviously, do not spread hate on anything! i will haunt you (ФωФ)
i do occasionally open requests. don’t really have anything too rigid for the guidelines, but i would appreciate it if you could request as clearly as you can! i can’t read anyone’s mind, and i really don't want to disappoint anyone either :(
i usually try to answer requests in the order i receive them. rest assured, if you have ever sent one, i will surely get to it (if i think it’s inspiring enough for me.) i am also starting my master’s and it’s inevitable for me to slow down sometimes. in the end, i just don’t want to rush myself. i hope you will understand that (・ω・)
also, you are always welcome to yap in my inbox! i love to yap and to hear others yap!
(here’s a random pic of what my name looks like spelled in earth features! you can do it here as well!)
I am just curious what piece are you writing next????
hehe thank you! i am actually very happy to see so many lovelies enjoyed it :')
anyway, i don’t really have a schedule? like i just write whatever i want at the moment. right now, i am trying to smooth out a rafayel fic, i mentioned it a while ago. it’s like one of my absolute faves so i am just in the mindset of making sure it’s the epitome of perfection before i put it out there; i know it’s a pretty bad habit but i just can’t stop editing every sentence lmao (/-▪︎-)/
however!!! i do have another fic that i might post soon :P it’s for sylus!!! yay!!! one that i was supposed to post weeks ago sadly :( i don’t wanna spoil the fun but it’s an age gap setting!!! because i believe in old man sylus agenda heh
synopsis: in which xavier learns three things: (1) his work partner’s heels are a human rights violation, (2) being in your body makes him feel things he can’t blame on the wanderer, and (3) you’re just as insatiable as he is.
or: the body swap fic where xavier fucks himself stupid on his own dick.
(he’s not apologizing.)
contents: (!) xavier/fem!reader, smut (rare athe smut yay), body swap setting, body swap sex, slow start, pining, mutual pining, emotional intimacy, identity porn, porn with plot, porn with feelings, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v sex, praise kink, shame kink, orgasm delay, post-sex fluff, body dysphoria, switch dynamics, unresolved sexual tension, shitty humor, confessions from our boy, some meta terms, more than friends less than lovers, slight somnophilia, selfcest undertones (selfcest truthers rise), xavier has a nasty mouth, xavier is a freak like always, poor reader needs to be saved from him and his theatrics asap!!! and no beta we die like xavier’s dignity
please don’t read if any of the above upsets you :)
word count: 7.2k
note: i have decided to let this uh... interesting piece finally see the light of day... smut is genuinely so hard to write, and i still stand by this stance. i applaud and am envious of anyone who can write sex without banging their head on the wall. please teach me your ways, masters ૮ o̴̶̷᷄ ·̫ o̴̶̷̥᷅ ა
“watch out!”
it’s the last thing xavier hears before an unknown blackness swallows everything visible. smoke — most definitely, but this one isn’t like the aftermath of a bad enough accident on a packed road, or when he thought his cooking skills would accommodate an intermediate recipe. the smoke is heavy, unlike burnt petrol or spices, as it fights its way through his nose.
xavier coughs, hands fanning through the smoke. the danger still persists; the protocurves continue to emerge faster than his body could sense. that wanderer... one hand rises in front of his chest, and he tries to summon his light blade, except it doesn’t respond to him. weird... he needs to find you first. he squints at the swirling black, trying to locate you somewhere in there.
“(name)?”
something’s not right. his voice is faint, almost drifting in the smoke. his breath doesn’t settle in like it used to. the strong pulse in his ears, an echo of his soul, is unlike the barely-there rhythm it used to dwell in. his heart trembles the more smoke gets into his nose.
something’s definitely not right with that wanderer either. the infuriated beast was a bit too feisty, but this outcome was not expected with this grade of wanderers, or any, really. thousands of years’ worth of experience, all at his disposal, and yet xavier can’t figure out or do anything about this stupid smoke. irritated, his hand comes over his nose; he doesn’t pause to acknowledge the unusual smoothness of his hands that are often calloused. no time for that.
“can you hear me, (name)?!”
no response comes, which only fuels xavier to keep fanning and move through the blackness. when the smoke finally clears out, he sees them — fingers, relatively smaller fingers, ones that most definitely were not his, just like the hunter’s uniform that now sits on his body. he’s certain that his own uniform did not have this black leather nor a crop top.
his lips part, struggling for a breath. “huh?”
this voice...?
taken aback, he tries to speak again.
“(name)?”
and xavier stops, a conclusion dawning on him quickly. why does he sound so much like you? he missteps on a broken crate; the crack is loud enough to startle him, goosebumps shooting up his arms, cold finding place in his limbs that felt too small.
he looks down at his body.
why does he look so much like you?
his ears, slowly recovering from the sound waves from the protocurves, adjust to the receding levels. soon, he hears his own voice somewhere in the warehouse, more specifically, calls of his name.
this wasn’t a... dream?
“xavier?”
a few footsteps thump against the cemented floor of the abandoned warehouse, causing xavier to look up. it is indeed his own voice calling his name. the lingering smoke curves around a figure he wakes up to see every day in a mirror: it’s you who finally step out of a hidden corner, or was it even you? xavier has never seen himself look so meek. his body looks unusually tight, like joints bending to a gravity that suddenly feels too strong. his face mimics a frown, no doubt your doing.
“that... wanderer?” he sees you look around, silver hair gleaming in the dusk light. is that how his hair usually looks? you return to him, blue eyes piercing enough — his blue eyes.
“i-i think it got away.”
this can’t be...
xavier wills himself to say. “u-unfortunate.”
a mere comment, he can’t even force anything out — confirmation, consolation. his throat is wrapping around something prickly the moment he hears himself speak, almost mistaking himself for you instead. he wants to rub at his nape, an urge of an old habit, though he doesn’t know if it’s even appropriate for him in the least; it’s your body after all. he should be ashamed.
“and... this?” you mutter after some time of contemplating. your arms lift and spread to the sides, gesturing to your body — well, his.
“switching bodies? how can this even happen?” your arms flop back down, and the frown on your, or rather his, face deepens. you freeze, the dim light from outside framing your disbelief in an almost cruel manner.
“don’t tell me we are—”
“it must be that wanderer’s doing.”
xavier speaks whatever you must be thinking. perhaps it was the protocurves from that wanderer’s protocore or the black smoke it emitted right before fleeing. he, too, looks around, but for nothing, because seeing the pained expression on your face is too cumbersome for him right now. he can’t believe how he managed to miss the faint spike in the levels. this mistake of his is going to cost too much; the consequences are already here, after all...
your eyes fall to the rotten floor: moldy wood that instantly grosses him out, and prickly grass that would have definitely left rashes on bare skin. he shouldn’t have accepted this mission.
“what do we do now?”
nothing — and xavier says the same to you. he desperately wants to say something else, to ease your mind a little, but he can’t do anything. he stands still, just like you, watching your grip on his blazer that is slowly making his head spin. all he affords in the end is a pull on your hand before he’s leading you back out into the open forest. there’s no other logical choice but to wait until tomorrow morning. the wanderer has long shaken the two of you off its trail, so no point in chasing it, and the association would probably be closing right about now, judging by the way sheer moonlight lands on the ground instead of orangey rays from dusk.
you are silent as he brings you back to the entrance of the warehouse his evol just blasted moments ago. now, he can’t even sense it anymore, nor can he manipulate yours.
he turns to you suddenly. “can you try to use my evol?”
hope flares into something bright. maybe you can, or even teleport the both of you? it should be feasible enough; it is you, after all.
you look at him, bewildered, before slowly lifting a closed fist against your chest, silver eyebrows cinched with concentration. c’mon. c’mon. a few minutes pass, filled with heavy breathing and unspoken prayers, but only dust particles float where a golden light should have begun to shine.
“i... don’t think it will work,” you mutter, the now open fist dropping to your side.
you become silent again, only compelling him to fill in for you. “we’ll have to wait this out then.”
xavier sighs deeply and begins walking again, carefully guiding you through the shattered glass from the windows that line the way to the front gates. the dread that washes over him is unlike anything. this places both of you in a far more vulnerable state than he wants. he needs to get you both home safely now.
if the florist is even awake at this time, that is...
outside the warehouse, the pale moonlight strikes xavier more vividly. the forest seems to breathe more languidly, making him wonder if another threat was creeping under the green canopy. your hand tugs on his just as you reach your bike, parked right where the main road cuts through the forest. your eyes are glossy, twinkling stars making a home in a familiar blue, but he knows not to comment on them even though the sight of his teary eyes is quite mortifying right now. he hears you inhale sharply, finally looking down at him.
the height difference is weird, too weird; he doesn’t know how you have managed to keep your neck cranked up to even look at him all this time. he gulps. “(name)?”
your eyes fall shut. “please don’t tell anything to anyone.”
you must be feeling incredibly awkward. so he is! truly. the heat in his cheeks says it all. but you don’t know that... your eyes don’t open anytime soon, so xavier steals the chance to look at the sky. it’s a full moon tonight, and he doesn’t like the foreboding it seems to reveal.
he faces you again, repressing a sigh that was pleading for release. “o-of course, don’t worry.”
your eyes finally open, that taunting blue, and you whisper sorry with another tug on his hand, as if you are still not convinced enough. “i... should have been more cautious.”
“i should have been too. it’s not your fault. don’t worry.”
if you think xavier’s angry at you, then you’re wrong. how can he ever be angry at you? he squeezes your hand back with a smile that would calm you, surely.
“okay?”
you nod. “okay.”
he wonders if it felt like looking at a photo for you.
“all right, we should head back now.”
xavier bites down his rumination and encourages you to start your bike with a pat on your... broad shoulders.
it’s going to be a long night.
“xavier!”
“(name)—” he stops the elevator doors with his foot. “what’s wrong?”
the heel of your shoes is beginning to hurt his ankles. he is definitely going to file a complaint with hr for a change in the uniforms once everything returns to normal. you, on the other hand, seem to walk just fine, as you come before the open elevator again, your hands clasped together, that same cinched expression on your face.
your energy has been off ever since the two of you came back. the ride home wasn’t anything memorable, apart from the times you accidentally bent on a corner more than what should be considered safe. his eyes fall to your shoes, his choice for today. xavier gets it; it’s strange walking, breathing in a body not yours, let alone riding a bike.
no accidents or attacks happened, fortunately. that should have been fine and soothed whatever dread he was feeling back in that warehouse, but what he doesn’t understand is the tightness he’s beginning to feel in his abdomen. the feeling is familiar, little beats of heat that lingered right on the cusp of remembering before vanishing before he could connect the dots. not dread, of course not.
xavier licks his lips, your taste more rich, while your own lips part:
“can you... stay the night? at my apartment, i mean?”
your voice trembles with a rasp, taking him back to the moments when he’s just woken up. his gaze moves up, from the thigh straps he usually wore to the high neck of his black turtleneck peeking underneath your neck. are you feeling those little beats of heat too? he asks himself. is that why you are asking for him? not as a friend, but something entirely different. he blinks and remains silent for some seconds, listening to your unusually slow breaths. the elevator begins to close once again, before xavier places his foot in between the doors once more.
“are you sure?”
his concern shouldn’t have been forced. he eyes the tight bite of your lips this time. whatever is going on with you, he’s sure he’s not going to last against it much longer. how can he though? he questions himself again before saying, his voice low:
“i don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or do anything... inappropriate.”
inappropriate. xavier stretches the word more than enough — enough for you to finally see the stakes.
your eyes widen immediately. “no! no—”
you finally speak, or rather, yell, pearly white teeth letting go of the plush, pink skin. he sees your hands shoot up, reaching for him through the elevator, not caring about the dinging light or the opening and closing doors stopped by his foot. someone must be waiting on some other floor, but he wishes to stay here, in this small metallic box, for a while longer.
“oh? what is it then, (name)?”
his voice is already teetering on a tone he’s aimed at you more times than he can count. however, considering the tricky situation right now, xavier isn’t sure if you can even catch the flirty notes when it is your own voice. or... his gaze narrows.
“i-i just don’t want anything bad to happen!”
a familiar red seeps into your cheeks, making his breath hitch. apparently, you can — like, you know, like you’ll find him, and his little quirks, and his soul no matter the skin he’s wearing, no matter what. you refuse to meet his gaze and turn around, making him more laden with want than worry.
“please? i am just... worried. that’s all.” you look over your shoulder.
xavier can barely hear your pleas with your back facing him, but he yields anyway, not that he won’t. he steps off the elevator, reaching for your big hand that seems to radiate heat — a familiar kind that is already making waves inside him.
“all right.”
another easy smile for you, as he rubs his thumb on your knuckles, hoping you’d repay him. and you do, albeit a small one, but it’s enough for him.
at last, he can name the familiar feeling within him, even if it comes at the expense of his dignity. it’s difficult to discern if your worry is also just protecting something far more carnal, but he wishes it is anyway; it’s selfish of him, but he needs you to, just so he can condemn his... licentiousness a bit easier, with a little less guilt. the shame from being in your body and having these just as animalistic thoughts and urges hasn’t left him yet, but this old feeling wearing a new facade is more than enough to keep it hidden deep within his mind, leaving it to rot until the daylight comes — when mistakes become realizations.
mistakes xavier hopes he is allowed to make tonight. and realizations xavier hopes you’ll kneel into too.
“let’s go then.”
xavier can’t help but chuckle quietly at your endearing and hasty nods. your footsteps are the only thing echoing through the hallway this late. you have him following you, his small hand engulfed in your big one, as you pull and pull, almost afraid he might change his mind in a second. perhaps you have yet to become aware of the strength of his body, but xavier believes the reminders are not needed right now.
the skin on his wrist might already be blooming with red fingerprints by the time you realize and let go, and he would be lying if it didn’t make his head spin a little faster and his thighs clench. he really needs to be more gentle with you from now on, huh?
“uh—” you stop suddenly, making him bump his forehead against your back. “sorry!” a faint buzzing accompanies your apology.
“it’s okay.”
xavier instantly notices the red glowing light of your finger pad just past your waist. the sensor buzzes again, letting you both know xavier’s fingerprints are unfortunately not added to the system. he bites the inside of his cheek, another familiar feeling making a home in him once again.
why haven’t you added him yet?
“you should add mine too,” he mutters, pulling on your hand.
xavier feels almost, almost upset that you still haven’t entertained the quite intimate idea. the pout on his lips makes itself known even before he can twist it into something far more vexing. you should feel bad, you know? he will die if you won’t.
“all right, all right, can you just—”
your eyes point to the glowing button before flickering back to his totally cutesy pout. “we should probably get inside first.”
“hmm...” xavier feigns understanding as you step out of the way. he lifts one hand toward you, slightly wiggling his fingers. small, still, but... he is sure he can make good use of them. soon enough.
“which one?” his lips purse again.
you ignore him this time. “the thumb, please.”
he nods, trying to hold in his disbelief. your thumb fits perfectly inside the little gap, making him wonder if his could if he tried hard enough. he didn’t know the apartment building also provided custom locks; is this a sign for him to ditch the old-school locks and keys? the button stops glowing before flashing green as a ding fills the silence.
xavier would definitely add your fingerprints to his lock.
“there.” he twists the doorknob and motions toward the ajar door. his head drops slightly, and he thanks your haircut for hiding the sneaky smirk creeping on his lips.
“xavier?” you whisper his name.
why? why? how can his own voice make him hot in the head? are you doing this intentionally? he lifts, eyes ready to pull yours into alluring depths awaiting right behind your apartment’s door.
“c’mon in, your majesty.” he knocks at the door twice.
“wha—”
a flurry of hits instantly land on his shoulder in an attempt to distract him from the blush on your cheeks. he bites down on his lips, ignoring the muscles twitching with pain; your shyness only enticing him further.
“perhaps your majesty would prefer to be carried instead?”
“oh, shut up, xavier!”
another slap, right on his chest. it hurts more than he likes to admit. maybe he should let you know to take it easy while being in his body...
he smiles as you rush past him, finally happy to be home where no one can hurt you. “be careful.”
inside, the faint smell of your perfume greets him — the same one you must have been wearing before things happened. after the incident, and of course being nowhere near as logical or lucid, xavier didn’t quite get the chance to take a whiff. at other times, he would have sniffed you out like a dog when you’d come sauntering to the association, whether it be from his desk or just standing behind you in front of the vending machine.
don’t mind that he couldn’t before, because now, as you sit and bend in the entryway, xavier is finally getting his full fill. he is begging the scent to remain locked inside him forever. this soft musk, nectar of white roses blended with something raw and sweat — this scent that only belonged to you.
xavier inhales deeply. he wants it all. all of you.
in front of him, you take off his shoes in silence, and so does he: those nettlesome heeled boots that have given your poor, poor feet a lesson not to be forgotten. how can you hunt in them daily? they slide off the ankles smoothly, and he drops them onto the floor right beside his. your skin is pulsing; he can feel the swelling cushion his weight as he tries to get used to flat ground again. a weary, unrecognizable sound escapes him, causing you to hum in question.
“my feet — i mean your feet...” he points to the reddened limbs. “those heels are serious trouble.”
you blink and look down at his feet instead: no swelling or anything. “i usually just shower after work — the cold water helps a lot with the swelling!”
xavier stills, lust fogging his mind once more. he stutters. “t-that’s—”
shower? are you telling him to shower? in your body? really, he doesn’t mind, but won’t that make you... he can’t even look at you now, not when he’s feeling himself fucking leak at the suggestion of such a tantalizing experience.
is this how it feels for you?
a sniff pulls him gently back to reality. you look up at him, oblivious to the commotion happening inside him. “really, it would feel amazing afterward!”
are you being dense on purpose?
his eyes snap to yours. your head is tilted to the side, confusion lacing everything playful. you must be really, really tired, or were you?
xavier sighs. “(name)...”
this isn’t an invitation of some kind, right?
“are you forgetting... something?” he points to his body and then yours.
you smile sheepishly. “oh, right... maybe another time!”
another time...?
your hums don’t answer anything. you turn around, already heading deeper inside. one more sneaky comment and he’s going to do things he would probably regret.
you skip your shower, and so does he. dinner was takeout: ready-to-eat hotpot kits (it’s a staple for him at this point, and xavier’s not ashamed in the slightest) and some ice cream because, apparently, you were going to make his body crave it like no other.
“it doesn’t work like that—”
the ice cream is freezing as it licks up his teeth and the insides of his cheeks. he shouldn’t have bitten down...
“why not?” you ask before sneaking a lick of his cone, making him pretend to frown.
“i mean, the fact you are in my body is proof enough. don’t ya think?” you continue, mirth dripping from each word.
xavier wishes he was, actually.
a boop on your nose pushes you away from his melting ice cream and him. “e-eat before it makes a mess.”
(please don’t notice the clench of his thighs.)
of course, you don’t react to his teasing or comprehend the implications of your offhand words. you have his eyes closed as you change his clothes for him, expecting the same from him; he hopes you didn’t hear the hitches in his breath or his fast pulse. after dinner, when the promise of sleep silently awaits in one corner, you only give him two choices: the bed or the couch. xavier would have preferred to sleep beside you, but he’d rather you have a good night’s sleep because he knows you need it.
even if it meant no sleep for him.
as xavier said before: it is going to be a long night.
at eleven ten, he coaxed you into mindless chatter that had no business lasting for twenty minutes — petty drama peddling in the association, or jeremiah’s new inventions that were already causing headaches — but it did for him. just to not let you go, just so he could hold onto you a little longer. at eleven thirty-two, you yelled a good night, xavier, and the door of your bedroom clicked shut, officially separating you from him for hours to come — daunting times where he desperately needs you to be there with him.
the clock is daring to cross one now, and sleep has continued to evade him. outside, barks of a dog — no doubt the same one the whole apartment building takes turns caring for — penetrate the glass of your windows, shooing away what little repose he was beginning to lure in.
your couch barely compares to the one in his own apartment. no, he’s not blaming your design choices, but the cushions are an absolute pathetic excuse, and xavier wants to laugh at them hard. no way he’s going to get even a blink of sleep. this is all part of your plan, isn’t it? to have him come knocking at your door like a dog, soaked after the rain. xavier clenches his thighs again, desperately trying to stop the wetness leaking out. the sensation makes him whine; he can’t just plunge his fingers in there now, can he?
please forgive me.
xavier’s gone. gone, gone.
exhaling deeply, he lifts your night shirt and cups your chest in both hands. god, you are so soft, feeling like silk against silk. his fingers play around with the puckered buds, all the while glancing at the corner of the hallway in case you decide to sneak up on him. he slowly glides one hand down the stomach, lingering on the abdomen, feeling and caressing the skin he’s longed to touch for centuries. and he can’t help the moan.
hearing your voice coming out of him turns him on. more and more. the shorts are pushed to the knees quickly, and he doesn’t waste time sliding one hand into your panties. the only remaining light that graces his vision is the lamp you left on out of courtesy. the golden light laps at the expanse of your thighs, finally letting him see your body in clarity.
fuck, xavier breathes out, immediately letting his fingers trace around the pulsing opening. he does exactly what he has always wanted to do to you. beginning with a slow swirl around the clit, not quite touching but enough for him to feel a phantom of it hypnotize him. with his breath lagging, he collects the slickness pooling out of your pussy, making sure to coat his middle finger well, and gently nudges it past the fluttering muscles.
fuck it.
instantly, he feels your walls clamp down on the intrusion. the insane heat of them makes his mouth fall open, voice strangling in a knot somewhere deep in your throat. another finger pokes at the entrance, eager to join in the fun, and your walls have no choice but to accommodate more and more. his movements are sloppy — as to be expected. xavier is none other than a novice at this very moment, after all.
sweat beads on his forehead, carrying with it a salty taste as it drips into his agape mouth. the pace he picks is relentless. he should be more careful, more gentle, as he loves your body, but he can’t. lust is the only drive in him right now; he just can’t. he’s already becoming adept at pulling your muscles like they were his, and he just can’t contain the urge to experiment and experiment. a flick on your clit, or a pinch that makes his back arch, or even a slow caress on your other puckered hole when the pleasure drove him mad enough.
xavier loves you, he loves your body so much. and he always will.
the sweet, sweet release is more of a tease than the fingers scissoring deep in your pussy; it doesn’t come no matter how much he works his hand. frustration is the last thing xavier wanted to feel right now. alas, your fingers are nowhere near as long as his. if it were his own, he would have easily reached far deeper than what yours are allowing him right now. disgust rises in him, but it’s too late. it’s almost humiliating to admit that he’s downright begging to feel his own length slide right in, feel it harden and pump through the pliant muscles of your walls.
xavier mewls. the filthy thoughts of being fucked by himself cloud his mind, bringing on a feeling estranged yet slightly familiar — one welcomed nevertheless, one he wanted regardless.
i am sorry, (name).
another groan cuts through the tranquility of your living room, and the pressure simmering throughout today finally erupts. the barking dies out in the ringing in his ears, and the orgasm wrecks him, your body, in ways he didn’t know were possible. those little beats of heat now felt like molten fire as they spread from his core, circulating through his body. like a disassembled doll, xavier remains flat on the couch, unmoving except for the erratic rise and fall of his chest. the dull pleasure slowly dissipates in his nerves, only to leave behind the same need that needed to sink its teeth a bit deeper.
he knows this won’t be enough to sate him, at all.
so xavier stands up, his head spinning for a little upon his hurried movements. it’s not long before he’s heading to your bedroom, footsteps creaking against the wooden floor.
should he knock?
a gulp as his hand lifts to rest on the wood, and he waits. a second, then ten more — for something to startle him from behind. you don’t open it for him, and he doesn’t know why he expected you to. his hand finally grabs the knob, and he twists it open.
xavier quietly enters your bedroom without the urgency that brought him to your very door in the first place, and perhaps he knows the reason why. he waddles closer to your bed, the lack of light barely a hindrance for him. seeing you up close makes the gates open again, but now the flow of fervor is tame, because it’s you. he can’t ever bear to be rough with you.
he slips in right beside you, the coldness of the blankets a pleasant surprise for his feverish body. you don’t move an inch as you lie on your side, little snores escaping your lips. the timid moonlight doesn’t do justice to the peace reflected on your face — something he doesn’t want to snatch away from you. he wants you so badly; at the same time, he wants you to want him too.
you will accept him, won’t you, even if it’s him wearing your own skin?
xavier tucks a lone strand behind your ear. his hand cups your cheek, letting his heat permeate the cold skin. his body has always run a bit colder, after all. it would crush him to see his own body hurt you. a pat is all he tests for now as he awaits your impending reaction. when you don’t return to the waking world, xavier tries something bolder. his face lines up to yours, and he presses his lips against yours, eyes squeezing shut.
you see him like a friend, but to him, you’ve always been his everything, forever: from the end of a beginning to the beginning of an end. xavier doesn’t want to label your relationship as mere coworkers or friends or... lovers. it’s just not fair to the two of you. he’s crossing a line here, he knows, but can you even blame him? if only you were aware of everything: the past, his and yours. then you would have understood, right?
like clockwork, you begin to stir awake. it’s the suck of a breath first, one he doesn’t let you claim so easily. his lips move harder against yours when a muffled noise escapes you. when he finally feels you push on his shoulders, he pulls away, already missing you.
“what—” you heave, trying to replace the air he stole from you. “xavier… what are you doing here?”
what does he even say to you?
“did you just...” you gasp. he sees your hand reach up for your lips, feeling the skin he’s been messing with: red and bitten raw. the extra pillow beneath him soaks up any sweat dribbling down his face. the air has changed, hotter; he can feel it melt on him — like salty vapors of a restless sea.
“you should know this by now.” he whispers, hoping you’d hear him.
you blink. “what do you mean?”
“that i am insatiable — that i have been for so long now.”
he moves closer, not paying attention to another gasp of yours. his hand grabs yours immediately and pushes it into your panties. you can feel it, right? the wetness, the mess his fingers had just made moments ago. he stares at your agape mouth, not knowing what you are feeling. your hand doesn’t move, and neither do you, only rendering him breathless.
you don’t want him…?
“please,” he pleads, eyes looking up at you. “i want this. i want you badly.”
you gulp, silver eyelashes fluttering. “xavi—”
“please.”
xavier sits up, completely imprudent by now. he climbs on top of your torso, making sure to press his core right where you should be aching for him. your want doesn’t wish to reveal itself to him right now, but it’s okay. another grind comes, from down to up. another moan sounds from your mouth, which tells him he’s succeeding, slowly but surely. it’s small, subtle, but the bulge only makes him proud for a vile reason; you react well, don’t you? his hips move with a mind of their own, drawing more sounds from you.
“you feel me?” xavier pants from above.
you are beginning to tremble beneath him now, your hand palming his sides. reluctance pulls you by the joints, and your lips break apart, a shudder making you still before you use his own strength to stop him.
“we can’t—”
one more grind just to drive his motives home — one painfully slow for the both of you. he feels your bulge now prod at his moist center, begging for reprieve.
“x-xavier, we can’t do this right now…” you blink up at him.
he tilts his head to the side, letting a smile etch onto his face — one that was definitely more wicked than it looked. “why not?”
“i—”
“you say no…” his one palm slithers in between your bodies, and he presses hard on the pulsing bulge, in essence, trampling over your excuses.
“what’s this, then?”
xavier muffles whatever you were going to say next. his lips are back on yours, licking, sucking, not leaving any skin untouched. you don’t try to push him off this time, in fact quite the opposite. he thinks he might be dreaming as you grind back against him, reciprocating in the way he was wishing you would.
xavier parts from you, and noses against your jaw. “you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”
“xav—”
his hand moves fast to cup your chin. “no, tell me exactly what it is.”
he sees your eyes close, teeth nibbling your lips. “and if i say yes...”
then they open once more with a blue so fervent it nearly makes him collapse.
“what would that make me?”
sudden affection floods him. he chuckles and gives your cheek a gentle pat. “what do you think?”
a pause hits you before: “just like... you?”
that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?
“just… like.. me.”
another pat lands as your limbs relax beneath him. he asks, “well, do you… want to?”
your eyes widen, and you bite your lips again. he patiently waits even though the bulge pressing against him is yelling at him to do something, quick. because your word is all that matters. xavier hopes you know he would get off you this very moment if you so desired.
but, of course, you don’t.
“i want to.”
you want him too.
xavier smiles, a genuine one for this hectic night. “i know.”
soon, he’s pawing at the waistband of the sweatpants he guided your legs through hours ago. you don’t hesitate this time as he pulls them off you in one single go. it’s you who paws at his boxers next, muttering something that sounds awfully close to a “please.” the word is drawn out in his husky voice, as if you’d finally learned to manipulate his vocal cords for your salacious gains. he does the same with the boxers, throwing them across the room to a forgotten corner before returning above you.
instinct controls him, and he quickly wraps his hand around the hard erection. xavier drinks in your expression, his ministrations making you all the more pliant beneath him — just as he wanted. “how does this feel?”
“i can’t describe—oh!” a moan is ripped out of you when he squeezes slightly.
“strange? weird?”
his eyes meet yours, and you manage a nod, silver hair matted from sweat.
“but familiar…” a smile breaks out on your face.
“you know,” he lets go of the pulsing length, and straddles your lap once more. “i felt the same too.”
“when?”
“when i fucked myself using your fingers.”
“what?!” the shock on your face makes him snort. “is that why you were fucking leaking?!”
his tight grip is back on you, and he’s already guiding the hardness to where he drips.
“it wasn’t enough. i wanted my own fucking dick — so bad.”
xavier lifts, making sure not to break eye contact. “wanted to fuck myself stupid on you.”
a laugh blooms out of you. “you are nasty.”
“never denied that…” xavier bends forward, and pecks your lips.
“so… you’ll fuck me, right?”
you pull him down fast.
with his breath caught, his eyes are forced shut, drowning out every other sense with only you. your fingers are no match for the wholeness he feels. he knew it already, you know? his dick was always going to be the one to fit so perfectly inside of you, nestled in your welcoming warmth, filling every nook; for him and only him.
“xavier—!” he feels you claw at his thighs.
“i’ll move, d-don’t worry.”
and he does, slowly, up and down, up, down, testing the waters, feeling every sensation, everything he’s been bombarded with: your nails imprinting on his thighs, his hot length molding something deep inside you.
“you like it?”
he’s bouncing now, and he has no idea why he knows how to. the slickness from your mixed fluids is dripping out around the length, as it pools on your lap. the splosh, splosh deafening in the silence you both didn’t occupy. you remove your hands from his waist and cover your eyes, making him laugh sluggishly. his hands stretch across your chest, tweaking with your little, pink nipples. your response is instantaneous in the form of a loud shriek, sharp enough to cut through the tension.
“w-why is your body—ahh! so sensitive?!” you moan out.
“don’t blame m-me, baby…”
xavier leans forward, and he’s kissing you again, almost trying to eat you through your mouth. your tongue barely holds against him as he rubs his against yours, hard and filthy, letting saliva leak from the sides of your connected lips.
the tightness returns to your limbs, however, this time because of an entirely different reason. he can feel it too, a feeling he knows too well: this blazing knot, binding deep inside his abdomen. he’s close, and so are you. he can’t tell where you begin and he ends, and truthfully, xavier doesn’t care. he’d weld himself against you if he could. he’s too lost deep in the pleasure by now, that he’s barely paying attention to how his moans begin to deepen with each strangled whine. the gravity seems to have flipped completely, but xavier blames it on the dick drilling through him.
except, it’s not anymore.
one moment he’s hearing you blabber about how tight he feels, and the very next, it’s him feeling that same tightness around him. huh…? he tries to stop his bouncing, only to find out he’s not the one doing that now. his eyes snap open, and he freezes. it’s you, and your face, and your body he sees above him; your thighs on the sides of his waist, your walls clenching around him instead of the other way around.
oh.
he pinches at your thigh. “(name).”
“no,” you whisper, your voice landing fresh. “i was so close!”
“(name)…” his hands come to grope your behind.
being back in his own body doesn’t elicit the surprise from him xavier was thinking it would. and for you, it doesn’t seem any different either — not surprised, only that you are mourning the release he was going to give you. what should he do now that he’s finally free from a fantasy, only to be trapped in a different one?
you pout, tightening around him again. “you are not going to leave me hanging, xavier.”
“of course… come here.” he smirks.
you lean toward him, immediately catching him in another kiss — a kiss that finally feels normal, like puzzle pieces back in their places. his one hand splays on your back, while the other slides down in between your body, finding that tiny bud that still seemed to pulse.
xavier parts from you, lips sloppy. “you are just as insatiable as me…”
“stop—” his fingers press on your clit, making you shut up.
xavier can’t stop himself now, can’t stop the lewd words falling out of his mouth, or his hips that rush to meet yours halfway.
“look at you, baby…”
“bent over me like this.”
“all spread open for me.”
“so obscene, aren’t you?”
his mouth traps yours in a push and pull again, distracting enough for you that you almost miss the way his dick starts moving inside you.
“oh, xavier… oh~”
“fuck—” xavier stills immediately, trying not to cum at the spot. his arms cage you in against him. “don’t, or i might just…”
“aw, you are so cute.”
a flick lands on your forehead, making you whine. he recollects himself and looks at you one last time, mirroring your amusement.
“i am gonna move, okay?”
a nod from you is all it takes for his hips to start moving again. xavier doesn’t find it hard to thrust into you from below, if anything else, he can feel so much farther in you this way. you begin to gush around him as he continues to piston into you, thrust after thrust, not letting his pace falter even once. he keeps you close to his chest, letting you hear his heartbeat that seems to race just like yours.
the clenches around him never stop for even a second, alongside your sucks and bites on his nipples. xavier knows you are beginning to feel good now.
“touch yourself for me?” he coaxes you gently by patting on your back, meanwhile continuing to fuck you steadily.
“eh—”
the request is sudden but sweet you accept it anyways. xavier stares at you through his sweat-slicked bangs, watching your mouth fall agape, as your fingers try to match with his consistent thrusts.
“f-feeling good?”
a moan escapes you just as he angles his dick slightly, hitting deeper. “so goooood!”
after a few more thrusts, comprehension seems to be lost on you. it’s all blabbering now for you: “xavier, please! xavier, i can’t!”
xavier, i can’t take this! then why are you moving despite telling him not to?
xavier, don’t stop! and yet you cry for his mercy when his ruthlessness overtakes.
you are not the only one out of your mind, however. an impatient roar rises in him also. he, too, seems to balance right on the very edge, and your own release would be all it would take for him to tip over it. you have him thrown so out of his orbit, that he won’t be able to return anytime soon. he suckles on your neck, leaving behind purple hues that will match the ones you gifted on his chest.
you have long since stopped playing with your clit; instead, hold onto him as you hide your face in his neck, licking up any sweat drops that pass by your blurred vision. your voice melts against his ears, your moans more like a melody, he wanted to relish and tune according to his desires.
“xavier—” your imminent warning finally sounds in the heat of it all. his arms tighten their hold on you, and he hears you yell: “i am gonna—!”
“gonna cum? on my cock? yeah, show me, baby.”
and you do, making him feel every single fucking squeeze — complete insanity. it’s damn near impossible to move inside the vise-like grip your pussy has on him. not long after, xavier feels himself spurting inside your hot walls as his thick cum drips out of your poor hole in globs.
xavier’s undone all the way to the soul.
a few minutes pass with you slumped atop him, both of you trying to catch your breaths.
“that was…”
no further words leave you, but xavier already knows everything. he smiles as you nuzzle against his cheek.
the need has finally sunk its teeth.
with this, xavier has taken absolutely everything from you in every sense.
(and he needs to keep that wanderer around for… ahem, research purposes.)
synopsis: in which xavier learns three things: (1) his work partner’s heels are a human rights violation, (2) being in your body makes him feel things he can’t blame on the wanderer, and (3) you’re just as insatiable as he is.
or: the body swap fic where xavier fucks himself stupid on his own dick.
(he’s not apologizing.)
contents: (!) xavier/fem!reader, smut (rare athe smut yay), body swap setting, body swap sex, slow start, pining, mutual pining, emotional intimacy, identity porn, porn with plot, porn with feelings, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v sex, praise kink, shame kink, orgasm delay, post-sex fluff, body dysphoria, switch dynamics, unresolved sexual tension, shitty humor, confessions from our boy, some meta terms, more than friends less than lovers, slight somnophilia, selfcest undertones (selfcest truthers rise), xavier has a nasty mouth, xavier is a freak like always, poor reader needs to be saved from him and his theatrics asap!!! and no beta we die like xavier’s dignity
please don’t read if any of the above upsets you :)
word count: 7.2k
note: i have decided to let this uh... interesting piece finally see the light of day... smut is genuinely so hard to write, and i still stand by this stance. i applaud and am envious of anyone who can write sex without banging their head on the wall. please teach me your ways, masters ૮ o̴̶̷᷄ ·̫ o̴̶̷̥᷅ ა
“watch out!”
it’s the last thing xavier hears before an unknown blackness swallows everything visible. smoke — most definitely, but this one isn’t like the aftermath of a bad enough accident on a packed road, or when he thought his cooking skills would accommodate an intermediate recipe. the smoke is heavy, unlike burnt petrol or spices, as it fights its way through his nose.
xavier coughs, hands fanning through the smoke. the danger still persists; the protocurves continue to emerge faster than his body could sense. that wanderer... one hand rises in front of his chest, and he tries to summon his light blade, except it doesn’t respond to him. weird... he needs to find you first. he squints at the swirling black, trying to locate you somewhere in there.
“(name)?”
something’s not right. his voice is faint, almost drifting in the smoke. his breath doesn’t settle in like it used to. the strong pulse in his ears, an echo of his soul, is unlike the barely-there rhythm it used to dwell in. his heart trembles the more smoke gets into his nose.
something’s definitely not right with that wanderer either. the infuriated beast was a bit too feisty, but this outcome was not expected with this grade of wanderers, or any, really. thousands of years’ worth of experience, all at his disposal, and yet xavier can’t figure out or do anything about this stupid smoke. irritated, his hand comes over his nose; he doesn’t pause to acknowledge the unusual smoothness of his hands that are often calloused. no time for that.
“can you hear me, (name)?!”
no response comes, which only fuels xavier to keep fanning and move through the blackness. when the smoke finally clears out, he sees them — fingers, relatively smaller fingers, ones that most definitely were not his, just like the hunter’s uniform that now sits on his body. he’s certain that his own uniform did not have this black leather nor a crop top.
his lips part, struggling for a breath. “huh?”
this voice...?
taken aback, he tries to speak again.
“(name)?”
and xavier stops, a conclusion dawning on him quickly. why does he sound so much like you? he missteps on a broken crate; the crack is loud enough to startle him, goosebumps shooting up his arms, cold finding place in his limbs that felt too small.
he looks down at his body.
why does he look so much like you?
his ears, slowly recovering from the sound waves from the protocurves, adjust to the receding levels. soon, he hears his own voice somewhere in the warehouse, more specifically, calls of his name.
this wasn’t a... dream?
“xavier?”
a few footsteps thump against the cemented floor of the abandoned warehouse, causing xavier to look up. it is indeed his own voice calling his name. the lingering smoke curves around a figure he wakes up to see every day in a mirror: it’s you who finally step out of a hidden corner, or was it even you? xavier has never seen himself look so meek. his body looks unusually tight, like joints bending to a gravity that suddenly feels too strong. his face mimics a frown, no doubt your doing.
“that... wanderer?” he sees you look around, silver hair gleaming in the dusk light. is that how his hair usually looks? you return to him, blue eyes piercing enough — his blue eyes.
“i-i think it got away.”
this can’t be...
xavier wills himself to say. “u-unfortunate.”
a mere comment, he can’t even force anything out — confirmation, consolation. his throat is wrapping around something prickly the moment he hears himself speak, almost mistaking himself for you instead. he wants to rub at his nape, an urge of an old habit, though he doesn’t know if it’s even appropriate for him in the least; it’s your body after all. he should be ashamed.
“and... this?” you mutter after some time of contemplating. your arms lift and spread to the sides, gesturing to your body — well, his.
“switching bodies? how can this even happen?” your arms flop back down, and the frown on your, or rather his, face deepens. you freeze, the dim light from outside framing your disbelief in an almost cruel manner.
“don’t tell me we are—”
“it must be that wanderer’s doing.”
xavier speaks whatever you must be thinking. perhaps it was the protocurves from that wanderer’s protocore or the black smoke it emitted right before fleeing. he, too, looks around, but for nothing, because seeing the pained expression on your face is too cumbersome for him right now. he can’t believe how he managed to miss the faint spike in the levels. this mistake of his is going to cost too much; the consequences are already here, after all...
your eyes fall to the rotten floor: moldy wood that instantly grosses him out, and prickly grass that would have definitely left rashes on bare skin. he shouldn’t have accepted this mission.
“what do we do now?”
nothing — and xavier says the same to you. he desperately wants to say something else, to ease your mind a little, but he can’t do anything. he stands still, just like you, watching your grip on his blazer that is slowly making his head spin. all he affords in the end is a pull on your hand before he’s leading you back out into the open forest. there’s no other logical choice but to wait until tomorrow morning. the wanderer has long shaken the two of you off its trail, so no point in chasing it, and the association would probably be closing right about now, judging by the way sheer moonlight lands on the ground instead of orangey rays from dusk.
you are silent as he brings you back to the entrance of the warehouse his evol just blasted moments ago. now, he can’t even sense it anymore, nor can he manipulate yours.
he turns to you suddenly. “can you try to use my evol?”
hope flares into something bright. maybe you can, or even teleport the both of you? it should be feasible enough; it is you, after all.
you look at him, bewildered, before slowly lifting a closed fist against your chest, silver eyebrows cinched with concentration. c’mon. c’mon. a few minutes pass, filled with heavy breathing and unspoken prayers, but only dust particles float where a golden light should have begun to shine.
“i... don’t think it will work,” you mutter, the now open fist dropping to your side.
you become silent again, only compelling him to fill in for you. “we’ll have to wait this out then.”
xavier sighs deeply and begins walking again, carefully guiding you through the shattered glass from the windows that line the way to the front gates. the dread that washes over him is unlike anything. this places both of you in a far more vulnerable state than he wants. he needs to get you both home safely now.
if the florist is even awake at this time, that is...
outside the warehouse, the pale moonlight strikes xavier more vividly. the forest seems to breathe more languidly, making him wonder if another threat was creeping under the green canopy. your hand tugs on his just as you reach your bike, parked right where the main road cuts through the forest. your eyes are glossy, twinkling stars making a home in a familiar blue, but he knows not to comment on them even though the sight of his teary eyes is quite mortifying right now. he hears you inhale sharply, finally looking down at him.
the height difference is weird, too weird; he doesn’t know how you have managed to keep your neck cranked up to even look at him all this time. he gulps. “(name)?”
your eyes fall shut. “please don’t tell anything to anyone.”
you must be feeling incredibly awkward. so he is! truly. the heat in his cheeks says it all. but you don’t know that... your eyes don’t open anytime soon, so xavier steals the chance to look at the sky. it’s a full moon tonight, and he doesn’t like the foreboding it seems to reveal.
he faces you again, repressing a sigh that was pleading for release. “o-of course, don’t worry.”
your eyes finally open, that taunting blue, and you whisper sorry with another tug on his hand, as if you are still not convinced enough. “i... should have been more cautious.”
“i should have been too. it’s not your fault. don’t worry.”
if you think xavier’s angry at you, then you’re wrong. how can he ever be angry at you? he squeezes your hand back with a smile that would calm you, surely.
“okay?”
you nod. “okay.”
he wonders if it felt like looking at a photo for you.
“all right, we should head back now.”
xavier bites down his rumination and encourages you to start your bike with a pat on your... broad shoulders.
it’s going to be a long night.
“xavier!”
“(name)—” he stops the elevator doors with his foot. “what’s wrong?”
the heel of your shoes is beginning to hurt his ankles. he is definitely going to file a complaint with hr for a change in the uniforms once everything returns to normal. you, on the other hand, seem to walk just fine, as you come before the open elevator again, your hands clasped together, that same cinched expression on your face.
your energy has been off ever since the two of you came back. the ride home wasn’t anything memorable, apart from the times you accidentally bent on a corner more than what should be considered safe. his eyes fall to your shoes, his choice for today. xavier gets it; it’s strange walking, breathing in a body not yours, let alone riding a bike.
no accidents or attacks happened, fortunately. that should have been fine and soothed whatever dread he was feeling back in that warehouse, but what he doesn’t understand is the tightness he’s beginning to feel in his abdomen. the feeling is familiar, little beats of heat that lingered right on the cusp of remembering before vanishing before he could connect the dots. not dread, of course not.
xavier licks his lips, your taste more rich, while your own lips part:
“can you... stay the night? at my apartment, i mean?”
your voice trembles with a rasp, taking him back to the moments when he’s just woken up. his gaze moves up, from the thigh straps he usually wore to the high neck of his black turtleneck peeking underneath your neck. are you feeling those little beats of heat too? he asks himself. is that why you are asking for him? not as a friend, but something entirely different. he blinks and remains silent for some seconds, listening to your unusually slow breaths. the elevator begins to close once again, before xavier places his foot in between the doors once more.
“are you sure?”
his concern shouldn’t have been forced. he eyes the tight bite of your lips this time. whatever is going on with you, he’s sure he’s not going to last against it much longer. how can he though? he questions himself again before saying, his voice low:
“i don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or do anything... inappropriate.”
inappropriate. xavier stretches the word more than enough — enough for you to finally see the stakes.
your eyes widen immediately. “no! no—”
you finally speak, or rather, yell, pearly white teeth letting go of the plush, pink skin. he sees your hands shoot up, reaching for him through the elevator, not caring about the dinging light or the opening and closing doors stopped by his foot. someone must be waiting on some other floor, but he wishes to stay here, in this small metallic box, for a while longer.
“oh? what is it then, (name)?”
his voice is already teetering on a tone he’s aimed at you more times than he can count. however, considering the tricky situation right now, xavier isn’t sure if you can even catch the flirty notes when it is your own voice. or... his gaze narrows.
“i-i just don’t want anything bad to happen!”
a familiar red seeps into your cheeks, making his breath hitch. apparently, you can — like, you know, like you’ll find him, and his little quirks, and his soul no matter the skin he’s wearing, no matter what. you refuse to meet his gaze and turn around, making him more laden with want than worry.
“please? i am just... worried. that’s all.” you look over your shoulder.
xavier can barely hear your pleas with your back facing him, but he yields anyway, not that he won’t. he steps off the elevator, reaching for your big hand that seems to radiate heat — a familiar kind that is already making waves inside him.
“all right.”
another easy smile for you, as he rubs his thumb on your knuckles, hoping you’d repay him. and you do, albeit a small one, but it’s enough for him.
at last, he can name the familiar feeling within him, even if it comes at the expense of his dignity. it’s difficult to discern if your worry is also just protecting something far more carnal, but he wishes it is anyway; it’s selfish of him, but he needs you to, just so he can condemn his... licentiousness a bit easier, with a little less guilt. the shame from being in your body and having these just as animalistic thoughts and urges hasn’t left him yet, but this old feeling wearing a new facade is more than enough to keep it hidden deep within his mind, leaving it to rot until the daylight comes — when mistakes become realizations.
mistakes xavier hopes he is allowed to make tonight. and realizations xavier hopes you’ll kneel into too.
“let’s go then.”
xavier can’t help but chuckle quietly at your endearing and hasty nods. your footsteps are the only thing echoing through the hallway this late. you have him following you, his small hand engulfed in your big one, as you pull and pull, almost afraid he might change his mind in a second. perhaps you have yet to become aware of the strength of his body, but xavier believes the reminders are not needed right now.
the skin on his wrist might already be blooming with red fingerprints by the time you realize and let go, and he would be lying if it didn’t make his head spin a little faster and his thighs clench. he really needs to be more gentle with you from now on, huh?
“uh—” you stop suddenly, making him bump his forehead against your back. “sorry!” a faint buzzing accompanies your apology.
“it’s okay.”
xavier instantly notices the red glowing light of your finger pad just past your waist. the sensor buzzes again, letting you both know xavier’s fingerprints are unfortunately not added to the system. he bites the inside of his cheek, another familiar feeling making a home in him once again.
why haven’t you added him yet?
“you should add mine too,” he mutters, pulling on your hand.
xavier feels almost, almost upset that you still haven’t entertained the quite intimate idea. the pout on his lips makes itself known even before he can twist it into something far more vexing. you should feel bad, you know? he will die if you won’t.
“all right, all right, can you just—”
your eyes point to the glowing button before flickering back to his totally cutesy pout. “we should probably get inside first.”
“hmm...” xavier feigns understanding as you step out of the way. he lifts one hand toward you, slightly wiggling his fingers. small, still, but... he is sure he can make good use of them. soon enough.
“which one?” his lips purse again.
you ignore him this time. “the thumb, please.”
he nods, trying to hold in his disbelief. your thumb fits perfectly inside the little gap, making him wonder if his could if he tried hard enough. he didn’t know the apartment building also provided custom locks; is this a sign for him to ditch the old-school locks and keys? the button stops glowing before flashing green as a ding fills the silence.
xavier would definitely add your fingerprints to his lock.
“there.” he twists the doorknob and motions toward the ajar door. his head drops slightly, and he thanks your haircut for hiding the sneaky smirk creeping on his lips.
“xavier?” you whisper his name.
why? why? how can his own voice make him hot in the head? are you doing this intentionally? he lifts, eyes ready to pull yours into alluring depths awaiting right behind your apartment’s door.
“c’mon in, your majesty.” he knocks at the door twice.
“wha—”
a flurry of hits instantly land on his shoulder in an attempt to distract him from the blush on your cheeks. he bites down on his lips, ignoring the muscles twitching with pain; your shyness only enticing him further.
“perhaps your majesty would prefer to be carried instead?”
“oh, shut up, xavier!”
another slap, right on his chest. it hurts more than he likes to admit. maybe he should let you know to take it easy while being in his body...
he smiles as you rush past him, finally happy to be home where no one can hurt you. “be careful.”
inside, the faint smell of your perfume greets him — the same one you must have been wearing before things happened. after the incident, and of course being nowhere near as logical or lucid, xavier didn’t quite get the chance to take a whiff. at other times, he would have sniffed you out like a dog when you’d come sauntering to the association, whether it be from his desk or just standing behind you in front of the vending machine.
don’t mind that he couldn’t before, because now, as you sit and bend in the entryway, xavier is finally getting his full fill. he is begging the scent to remain locked inside him forever. this soft musk, nectar of white roses blended with something raw and sweat — this scent that only belonged to you.
xavier inhales deeply. he wants it all. all of you.
in front of him, you take off his shoes in silence, and so does he: those nettlesome heeled boots that have given your poor, poor feet a lesson not to be forgotten. how can you hunt in them daily? they slide off the ankles smoothly, and he drops them onto the floor right beside his. your skin is pulsing; he can feel the swelling cushion his weight as he tries to get used to flat ground again. a weary, unrecognizable sound escapes him, causing you to hum in question.
“my feet — i mean your feet...” he points to the reddened limbs. “those heels are serious trouble.”
you blink and look down at his feet instead: no swelling or anything. “i usually just shower after work — the cold water helps a lot with the swelling!”
xavier stills, lust fogging his mind once more. he stutters. “t-that’s—”
shower? are you telling him to shower? in your body? really, he doesn’t mind, but won’t that make you... he can’t even look at you now, not when he’s feeling himself fucking leak at the suggestion of such a tantalizing experience.
is this how it feels for you?
a sniff pulls him gently back to reality. you look up at him, oblivious to the commotion happening inside him. “really, it would feel amazing afterward!”
are you being dense on purpose?
his eyes snap to yours. your head is tilted to the side, confusion lacing everything playful. you must be really, really tired, or were you?
xavier sighs. “(name)...”
this isn’t an invitation of some kind, right?
“are you forgetting... something?” he points to his body and then yours.
you smile sheepishly. “oh, right... maybe another time!”
another time...?
your hums don’t answer anything. you turn around, already heading deeper inside. one more sneaky comment and he’s going to do things he would probably regret.
you skip your shower, and so does he. dinner was takeout: ready-to-eat hotpot kits (it’s a staple for him at this point, and xavier’s not ashamed in the slightest) and some ice cream because, apparently, you were going to make his body crave it like no other.
“it doesn’t work like that—”
the ice cream is freezing as it licks up his teeth and the insides of his cheeks. he shouldn’t have bitten down...
“why not?” you ask before sneaking a lick of his cone, making him pretend to frown.
“i mean, the fact you are in my body is proof enough. don’t ya think?” you continue, mirth dripping from each word.
xavier wishes he was, actually.
a boop on your nose pushes you away from his melting ice cream and him. “e-eat before it makes a mess.”
(please don’t notice the clench of his thighs.)
of course, you don’t react to his teasing or comprehend the implications of your offhand words. you have his eyes closed as you change his clothes for him, expecting the same from him; he hopes you didn’t hear the hitches in his breath or his fast pulse. after dinner, when the promise of sleep silently awaits in one corner, you only give him two choices: the bed or the couch. xavier would have preferred to sleep beside you, but he’d rather you have a good night’s sleep because he knows you need it.
even if it meant no sleep for him.
as xavier said before: it is going to be a long night.
at eleven ten, he coaxed you into mindless chatter that had no business lasting for twenty minutes — petty drama peddling in the association, or jeremiah’s new inventions that were already causing headaches — but it did for him. just to not let you go, just so he could hold onto you a little longer. at eleven thirty-two, you yelled a good night, xavier, and the door of your bedroom clicked shut, officially separating you from him for hours to come — daunting times where he desperately needs you to be there with him.
the clock is daring to cross one now, and sleep has continued to evade him. outside, barks of a dog — no doubt the same one the whole apartment building takes turns caring for — penetrate the glass of your windows, shooing away what little repose he was beginning to lure in.
your couch barely compares to the one in his own apartment. no, he’s not blaming your design choices, but the cushions are an absolute pathetic excuse, and xavier wants to laugh at them hard. no way he’s going to get even a blink of sleep. this is all part of your plan, isn’t it? to have him come knocking at your door like a dog, soaked after the rain. xavier clenches his thighs again, desperately trying to stop the wetness leaking out. the sensation makes him whine; he can’t just plunge his fingers in there now, can he?
please forgive me.
xavier’s gone. gone, gone.
exhaling deeply, he lifts your night shirt and cups your chest in both hands. god, you are so soft, feeling like silk against silk. his fingers play around with the puckered buds, all the while glancing at the corner of the hallway in case you decide to sneak up on him. he slowly glides one hand down the stomach, lingering on the abdomen, feeling and caressing the skin he’s longed to touch for centuries. and he can’t help the moan.
hearing your voice coming out of him turns him on. more and more. the shorts are pushed to the knees quickly, and he doesn’t waste time sliding one hand into your panties. the only remaining light that graces his vision is the lamp you left on out of courtesy. the golden light laps at the expanse of your thighs, finally letting him see your body in clarity.
fuck, xavier breathes out, immediately letting his fingers trace around the pulsing opening. he does exactly what he has always wanted to do to you. beginning with a slow swirl around the clit, not quite touching but enough for him to feel a phantom of it hypnotize him. with his breath lagging, he collects the slickness pooling out of your pussy, making sure to coat his middle finger well, and gently nudges it past the fluttering muscles.
fuck it.
instantly, he feels your walls clamp down on the intrusion. the insane heat of them makes his mouth fall open, voice strangling in a knot somewhere deep in your throat. another finger pokes at the entrance, eager to join in the fun, and your walls have no choice but to accommodate more and more. his movements are sloppy — as to be expected. xavier is none other than a novice at this very moment, after all.
sweat beads on his forehead, carrying with it a salty taste as it drips into his agape mouth. the pace he picks is relentless. he should be more careful, more gentle, as he loves your body, but he can’t. lust is the only drive in him right now; he just can’t. he’s already becoming adept at pulling your muscles like they were his, and he just can’t contain the urge to experiment and experiment. a flick on your clit, or a pinch that makes his back arch, or even a slow caress on your other puckered hole when the pleasure drove him mad enough.
xavier loves you, he loves your body so much. and he always will.
the sweet, sweet release is more of a tease than the fingers scissoring deep in your pussy; it doesn’t come no matter how much he works his hand. frustration is the last thing xavier wanted to feel right now. alas, your fingers are nowhere near as long as his. if it were his own, he would have easily reached far deeper than what yours are allowing him right now. disgust rises in him, but it’s too late. it’s almost humiliating to admit that he’s downright begging to feel his own length slide right in, feel it harden and pump through the pliant muscles of your walls.
xavier mewls. the filthy thoughts of being fucked by himself cloud his mind, bringing on a feeling estranged yet slightly familiar — one welcomed nevertheless, one he wanted regardless.
i am sorry, (name).
another groan cuts through the tranquility of your living room, and the pressure simmering throughout today finally erupts. the barking dies out in the ringing in his ears, and the orgasm wrecks him, your body, in ways he didn’t know were possible. those little beats of heat now felt like molten fire as they spread from his core, circulating through his body. like a disassembled doll, xavier remains flat on the couch, unmoving except for the erratic rise and fall of his chest. the dull pleasure slowly dissipates in his nerves, only to leave behind the same need that needed to sink its teeth a bit deeper.
he knows this won’t be enough to sate him, at all.
so xavier stands up, his head spinning for a little upon his hurried movements. it’s not long before he’s heading to your bedroom, footsteps creaking against the wooden floor.
should he knock?
a gulp as his hand lifts to rest on the wood, and he waits. a second, then ten more — for something to startle him from behind. you don’t open it for him, and he doesn’t know why he expected you to. his hand finally grabs the knob, and he twists it open.
xavier quietly enters your bedroom without the urgency that brought him to your very door in the first place, and perhaps he knows the reason why. he waddles closer to your bed, the lack of light barely a hindrance for him. seeing you up close makes the gates open again, but now the flow of fervor is tame, because it’s you. he can’t ever bear to be rough with you.
he slips in right beside you, the coldness of the blankets a pleasant surprise for his feverish body. you don’t move an inch as you lie on your side, little snores escaping your lips. the timid moonlight doesn’t do justice to the peace reflected on your face — something he doesn’t want to snatch away from you. he wants you so badly; at the same time, he wants you to want him too.
you will accept him, won’t you, even if it’s him wearing your own skin?
xavier tucks a lone strand behind your ear. his hand cups your cheek, letting his heat permeate the cold skin. his body has always run a bit colder, after all. it would crush him to see his own body hurt you. a pat is all he tests for now as he awaits your impending reaction. when you don’t return to the waking world, xavier tries something bolder. his face lines up to yours, and he presses his lips against yours, eyes squeezing shut.
you see him like a friend, but to him, you’ve always been his everything, forever: from the end of a beginning to the beginning of an end. xavier doesn’t want to label your relationship as mere coworkers or friends or... lovers. it’s just not fair to the two of you. he’s crossing a line here, he knows, but can you even blame him? if only you were aware of everything: the past, his and yours. then you would have understood, right?
like clockwork, you begin to stir awake. it’s the suck of a breath first, one he doesn’t let you claim so easily. his lips move harder against yours when a muffled noise escapes you. when he finally feels you push on his shoulders, he pulls away, already missing you.
“what—” you heave, trying to replace the air he stole from you. “xavier… what are you doing here?”
what does he even say to you?
“did you just...” you gasp. he sees your hand reach up for your lips, feeling the skin he’s been messing with: red and bitten raw. the extra pillow beneath him soaks up any sweat dribbling down his face. the air has changed, hotter; he can feel it melt on him — like salty vapors of a restless sea.
“you should know this by now.” he whispers, hoping you’d hear him.
you blink. “what do you mean?”
“that i am insatiable — that i have been for so long now.”
he moves closer, not paying attention to another gasp of yours. his hand grabs yours immediately and pushes it into your panties. you can feel it, right? the wetness, the mess his fingers had just made moments ago. he stares at your agape mouth, not knowing what you are feeling. your hand doesn’t move, and neither do you, only rendering him breathless.
you don’t want him…?
“please,” he pleads, eyes looking up at you. “i want this. i want you badly.”
you gulp, silver eyelashes fluttering. “xavi—”
“please.”
xavier sits up, completely imprudent by now. he climbs on top of your torso, making sure to press his core right where you should be aching for him. your want doesn’t wish to reveal itself to him right now, but it’s okay. another grind comes, from down to up. another moan sounds from your mouth, which tells him he’s succeeding, slowly but surely. it’s small, subtle, but the bulge only makes him proud for a vile reason; you react well, don’t you? his hips move with a mind of their own, drawing more sounds from you.
“you feel me?” xavier pants from above.
you are beginning to tremble beneath him now, your hand palming his sides. reluctance pulls you by the joints, and your lips break apart, a shudder making you still before you use his own strength to stop him.
“we can’t—”
one more grind just to drive his motives home — one painfully slow for the both of you. he feels your bulge now prod at his moist center, begging for reprieve.
“x-xavier, we can’t do this right now…” you blink up at him.
he tilts his head to the side, letting a smile etch onto his face — one that was definitely more wicked than it looked. “why not?”
“i—”
“you say no…” his one palm slithers in between your bodies, and he presses hard on the pulsing bulge, in essence, trampling over your excuses.
“what’s this, then?”
xavier muffles whatever you were going to say next. his lips are back on yours, licking, sucking, not leaving any skin untouched. you don’t try to push him off this time, in fact quite the opposite. he thinks he might be dreaming as you grind back against him, reciprocating in the way he was wishing you would.
xavier parts from you, and noses against your jaw. “you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”
“xav—”
his hand moves fast to cup your chin. “no, tell me exactly what it is.”
he sees your eyes close, teeth nibbling your lips. “and if i say yes...”
then they open once more with a blue so fervent it nearly makes him collapse.
“what would that make me?”
sudden affection floods him. he chuckles and gives your cheek a gentle pat. “what do you think?”
a pause hits you before: “just like... you?”
that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?
“just… like.. me.”
another pat lands as your limbs relax beneath him. he asks, “well, do you… want to?”
your eyes widen, and you bite your lips again. he patiently waits even though the bulge pressing against him is yelling at him to do something, quick. because your word is all that matters. xavier hopes you know he would get off you this very moment if you so desired.
but, of course, you don’t.
“i want to.”
you want him too.
xavier smiles, a genuine one for this hectic night. “i know.”
soon, he’s pawing at the waistband of the sweatpants he guided your legs through hours ago. you don’t hesitate this time as he pulls them off you in one single go. it’s you who paws at his boxers next, muttering something that sounds awfully close to a “please.” the word is drawn out in his husky voice, as if you’d finally learned to manipulate his vocal cords for your salacious gains. he does the same with the boxers, throwing them across the room to a forgotten corner before returning above you.
instinct controls him, and he quickly wraps his hand around the hard erection. xavier drinks in your expression, his ministrations making you all the more pliant beneath him — just as he wanted. “how does this feel?”
“i can’t describe—oh!” a moan is ripped out of you when he squeezes slightly.
“strange? weird?”
his eyes meet yours, and you manage a nod, silver hair matted from sweat.
“but familiar…” a smile breaks out on your face.
“you know,” he lets go of the pulsing length, and straddles your lap once more. “i felt the same too.”
“when?”
“when i fucked myself using your fingers.”
“what?!” the shock on your face makes him snort. “is that why you were fucking leaking?!”
his tight grip is back on you, and he’s already guiding the hardness to where he drips.
“it wasn’t enough. i wanted my own fucking dick — so bad.”
xavier lifts, making sure not to break eye contact. “wanted to fuck myself stupid on you.”
a laugh blooms out of you. “you are nasty.”
“never denied that…” xavier bends forward, and pecks your lips.
“so… you’ll fuck me, right?”
you pull him down fast.
with his breath caught, his eyes are forced shut, drowning out every other sense with only you. your fingers are no match for the wholeness he feels. he knew it already, you know? his dick was always going to be the one to fit so perfectly inside of you, nestled in your welcoming warmth, filling every nook; for him and only him.
“xavier—!” he feels you claw at his thighs.
“i’ll move, d-don’t worry.”
and he does, slowly, up and down, up, down, testing the waters, feeling every sensation, everything he’s been bombarded with: your nails imprinting on his thighs, his hot length molding something deep inside you.
“you like it?”
he’s bouncing now, and he has no idea why he knows how to. the slickness from your mixed fluids is dripping out around the length, as it pools on your lap. the splosh, splosh deafening in the silence you both didn’t occupy. you remove your hands from his waist and cover your eyes, making him laugh sluggishly. his hands stretch across your chest, tweaking with your little, pink nipples. your response is instantaneous in the form of a loud shriek, sharp enough to cut through the tension.
“w-why is your body—ahh! so sensitive?!” you moan out.
“don’t blame m-me, baby…”
xavier leans forward, and he’s kissing you again, almost trying to eat you through your mouth. your tongue barely holds against him as he rubs his against yours, hard and filthy, letting saliva leak from the sides of your connected lips.
the tightness returns to your limbs, however, this time because of an entirely different reason. he can feel it too, a feeling he knows too well: this blazing knot, binding deep inside his abdomen. he’s close, and so are you. he can’t tell where you begin and he ends, and truthfully, xavier doesn’t care. he’d weld himself against you if he could. he’s too lost deep in the pleasure by now, that he’s barely paying attention to how his moans begin to deepen with each strangled whine. the gravity seems to have flipped completely, but xavier blames it on the dick drilling through him.
except, it’s not anymore.
one moment he’s hearing you blabber about how tight he feels, and the very next, it’s him feeling that same tightness around him. huh…? he tries to stop his bouncing, only to find out he’s not the one doing that now. his eyes snap open, and he freezes. it’s you, and your face, and your body he sees above him; your thighs on the sides of his waist, your walls clenching around him instead of the other way around.
oh.
he pinches at your thigh. “(name).”
“no,” you whisper, your voice landing fresh. “i was so close!”
“(name)…” his hands come to grope your behind.
being back in his own body doesn’t elicit the surprise from him xavier was thinking it would. and for you, it doesn’t seem any different either — not surprised, only that you are mourning the release he was going to give you. what should he do now that he’s finally free from a fantasy, only to be trapped in a different one?
you pout, tightening around him again. “you are not going to leave me hanging, xavier.”
“of course… come here.” he smirks.
you lean toward him, immediately catching him in another kiss — a kiss that finally feels normal, like puzzle pieces back in their places. his one hand splays on your back, while the other slides down in between your body, finding that tiny bud that still seemed to pulse.
xavier parts from you, lips sloppy. “you are just as insatiable as me…”
“stop—” his fingers press on your clit, making you shut up.
xavier can’t stop himself now, can’t stop the lewd words falling out of his mouth, or his hips that rush to meet yours halfway.
“look at you, baby…”
“bent over me like this.”
“all spread open for me.”
“so obscene, aren’t you?”
his mouth traps yours in a push and pull again, distracting enough for you that you almost miss the way his dick starts moving inside you.
“oh, xavier… oh~”
“fuck—” xavier stills immediately, trying not to cum at the spot. his arms cage you in against him. “don’t, or i might just…”
“aw, you are so cute.”
a flick lands on your forehead, making you whine. he recollects himself and looks at you one last time, mirroring your amusement.
“i am gonna move, okay?”
a nod from you is all it takes for his hips to start moving again. xavier doesn’t find it hard to thrust into you from below, if anything else, he can feel so much farther in you this way. you begin to gush around him as he continues to piston into you, thrust after thrust, not letting his pace falter even once. he keeps you close to his chest, letting you hear his heartbeat that seems to race just like yours.
the clenches around him never stop for even a second, alongside your sucks and bites on his nipples. xavier knows you are beginning to feel good now.
“touch yourself for me?” he coaxes you gently by patting on your back, meanwhile continuing to fuck you steadily.
“eh—”
the request is sudden but sweet you accept it anyways. xavier stares at you through his sweat-slicked bangs, watching your mouth fall agape, as your fingers try to match with his consistent thrusts.
“f-feeling good?”
a moan escapes you just as he angles his dick slightly, hitting deeper. “so goooood!”
after a few more thrusts, comprehension seems to be lost on you. it’s all blabbering now for you: “xavier, please! xavier, i can’t!”
xavier, i can’t take this! then why are you moving despite telling him not to?
xavier, don’t stop! and yet you cry for his mercy when his ruthlessness overtakes.
you are not the only one out of your mind, however. an impatient roar rises in him also. he, too, seems to balance right on the very edge, and your own release would be all it would take for him to tip over it. you have him thrown so out of his orbit, that he won’t be able to return anytime soon. he suckles on your neck, leaving behind purple hues that will match the ones you gifted on his chest.
you have long since stopped playing with your clit; instead, hold onto him as you hide your face in his neck, licking up any sweat drops that pass by your blurred vision. your voice melts against his ears, your moans more like a melody, he wanted to relish and tune according to his desires.
“xavier—” your imminent warning finally sounds in the heat of it all. his arms tighten their hold on you, and he hears you yell: “i am gonna—!”
“gonna cum? on my cock? yeah, show me, baby.”
and you do, making him feel every single fucking squeeze — complete insanity. it’s damn near impossible to move inside the vise-like grip your pussy has on him. not long after, xavier feels himself spurting inside your hot walls as his thick cum drips out of your poor hole in globs.
xavier’s undone all the way to the soul.
a few minutes pass with you slumped atop him, both of you trying to catch your breaths.
“that was…”
no further words leave you, but xavier already knows everything. he smiles as you nuzzle against his cheek.
the need has finally sunk its teeth.
with this, xavier has taken absolutely everything from you in every sense.
(and he needs to keep that wanderer around for… ahem, research purposes.)
philos’s summer is on the brink of its zenith. xavier can certainly feel it melting away on his body. a pleasant chatter hollows out the air, but his ears can only focus on one thing, and so can his eyes — a few feet away from him, a relief for his sore body, as he’d like to say. occasionally, his fellow students would dance around his vision, their swords pulling them into bends and twists, and postures so bad that it almost makes him cringe. but sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, he would finally catch something else — as graceful as a fluttering swan, sweet old you, trying your best to hone swordplay.
as of now, you seem to shy away from him, but that’s just wishful thinking on his part, you see: just as he craves to see your face instead, he wishes you knew he wants to. his eyes diligently follow you to the right as you step and duck just in time to dodge jeremiah’s sweeping attack.
oh, xavier breathes aloud, heart beating abnormally. you are certainly improving, and so is jeremiah...
that’s just what being in the knight academy yields. xavier doesn’t want to blame jeremiah; actually, he can’t. but still, xavier hopes that jeremiah could go a little easy on you, because... he would never do that to you.
another attack looms, immediately switching on something inside xavier. you can’t really do much against the swift swings jeremiah unleashes on you. a dull pat sounds amidst the dying out chatter. it must have been a short impact as it lands on your shoulder. the effects are not immediate; your body remains upright, but xavier can easily tell from your pause that they were nothing but. jeremiah checks his shoulder, and he immediately bursts into a sheepish laugh.
”sorry,” he sees jeremiah mouth.
you finally turn around, gracing xavier with a view of your face. sweat dribbles down your face; the sunlight licks up any remaining, and he almost feels jealous. bubbly laughter flows from your lips, laughter that only heightens his senses. you are patting jeremiah’s shoulders, ”it’s alright.”
it isn’t. at least for him.
xavier wants to push jeremiah into the ground so badly.
by the time you return to him, the training grounds have already quieted down, leaving nothing but the faint smell of summer heat and cries of cicadas replacing the low hum of mindless chatter. xavier sits on a bench, his eyes closed and his sword between his thighs. the wind has begun to rustle the chaste leaves overhead, as they fall one by one, each barely missing his cooling body.
your footsteps are polite; he can hear your erratic exhales as you carefully maneuver around the resting students on the ground. a pleasant breeze announces your presence alongside you, and he feels you sit down right beside him. the bench is quite small, and he knows you are already overthinking etiquette toward a royal, but he wishes it could be even smaller. your warmth keeps on fading right before it reaches him, you know?
his thighs tremble just as your uniform caresses his pants. you are so close. he can almost breathe your mischievousness.
”are you sleeping?” your voice practically lulls him into one, but he fights; he has to. he can’t let this moment go to waste. xavier peeks one eye open, fighting a smile. ”no.”
”oh, hey...” a smile pulls you closer to him. ”so, how are you?”
”i am doing fine,” he blinks and turns on his side to face you, his sword standing between you. ”you?”
”good, good,” you chirp, trying to rock back and forth on the bench. ”why is it suddenly so hot?”
xavier pretends to think. he wishes he had the answer. instead:
”how was training?” he asks quickly, akin to a cicada jumping across a stick. xavier already knows; he just wonders if you’d tell him, as he wants you to.
you shy away from him again; this time, it’s not his mere wishful thinking. xavier doesn’t know what pulls you away, and more and more, farther from him. no, you are physically there, still on his ridiculously small bench, which the misers in the academy refuse to upgrade. in the same sense, it’s you, your mind, yourself — unknowingly, unintentionally, whatever that would make sense to his mind — that still doesn’t want to open up to him.
a frown tugs on his lips while your own lips part, inviting his eyes to look at. ”nothing. you know how training usually goes — just a mere something. no worries.” a group of laughing people tugs your eyes away from him, leaving him with no part of you.
just how much longer does he have to wait?
xavier sighs, his voice catching on something. ”a-are you hurt?”
you stiffen, hands on your lap closing onto one another. ”oh— i”
”uh, it’s... i mean” fuck. say something. say something! ”i-it was jeremiah. he was complaining about—”
”o-oh, okay. that’s— oh, right—” you wince as if reliving the exact moment jeremiah hit you.
you don’t say anything more. only your hand comes up to knead your shoulder. that’s enough for xavier. the urge in him to hug is roaring, and so is his want to comfort you. holding himself back, xavier slides closer to you, letting his thigh touch yours.
”may i?” he glances at your shoulders before meeting you in the eyes.
”you don’t have to— it’s nothing, really.” you don’t look at him now.
ahh, you are embarrassed. the red in your cheeks is very adorable, but you don’t have to be, not with xavier.
”let me help you.”
he smiles and cups your shoulder anyway, letting your warmth finally flood him.
you smile back. xavier can finally breathe easily now.
also happy pride month guys!!! 🫂🌈🫶🫶🫶 can’t wait to go on the parade soon 🥹
i can’t help but think of xavier being all lovey-dovey as you get ready for a pride walk. he’s so earnest in painting the flags on your cheek, not before sneaking a peck, of course. he doesn’t mind you putting him in different clothes either as you jump from one parade to another. ohh this is such a dream *sighs*
philos’s summer is on the brink of its zenith. xavier can certainly feel it melting away on his body. a pleasant chatter hollows out the air, but his ears can only focus on one thing, and so can his eyes — a few feet away from him, a relief for his sore body, as he’d like to say. occasionally, his fellow students would dance around his vision, their swords pulling them into bends and twists, and postures so bad that it almost makes him cringe. but sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, he would finally catch something else — as graceful as a fluttering swan, sweet old you, trying your best to hone swordplay.
as of now, you seem to shy away from him, but that’s just wishful thinking on his part, you see: just as he craves to see your face instead, he wishes you knew he wants to. his eyes diligently follow you to the right as you step and duck just in time to dodge jeremiah’s sweeping attack.
oh, xavier breathes aloud, heart beating abnormally. you are certainly improving, and so is jeremiah...
that’s just what being in the knight academy yields. xavier doesn’t want to blame jeremiah; actually, he can’t. but still, xavier hopes that jeremiah could go a little easy on you, because... he would never do that to you.
another attack looms, immediately switching on something inside xavier. you can’t really do much against the swift swings jeremiah unleashes on you. a dull pat sounds amidst the dying out chatter. it must have been a short impact as it lands on your shoulder. the effects are not immediate; your body remains upright, but xavier can easily tell from your pause that they were nothing but. jeremiah checks his shoulder, and he immediately bursts into a sheepish laugh.
”sorry,” he sees jeremiah mouth.
you finally turn around, gracing xavier with a view of your face. sweat dribbles down your face; the sunlight licks up any remaining, and he almost feels jealous. bubbly laughter flows from your lips, laughter that only heightens his senses. you are patting jeremiah’s shoulders, ”it’s alright.”
it isn’t. at least for him.
xavier wants to push jeremiah into the ground so badly.
by the time you return to him, the training grounds have already quieted down, leaving nothing but the faint smell of summer heat and cries of cicadas replacing the low hum of mindless chatter. xavier sits on a bench, his eyes closed and his sword between his thighs. the wind has begun to rustle the chaste leaves overhead, as they fall one by one, each barely missing his cooling body.
your footsteps are polite; he can hear your erratic exhales as you carefully maneuver around the resting students on the ground. a pleasant breeze announces your presence alongside you, and he feels you sit down right beside him. the bench is quite small, and he knows you are already overthinking etiquette toward a royal, but he wishes it could be even smaller. your warmth keeps on fading right before it reaches him, you know?
his thighs tremble just as your uniform caresses his pants. you are so close. he can almost breathe your mischievousness.
”are you sleeping?” your voice practically lulls him into one, but he fights; he has to. he can’t let this moment go to waste. xavier peeks one eye open, fighting a smile. ”no.”
”oh, hey...” a smile pulls you closer to him. ”so, how are you?”
”i am doing fine,” he blinks and turns on his side to face you, his sword standing between you. ”you?”
”good, good,” you chirp, trying to rock back and forth on the bench. ”why is it suddenly so hot?”
xavier pretends to think. he wishes he had the answer. instead:
”how was training?” he asks quickly, akin to a cicada jumping across a stick. xavier already knows; he just wonders if you’d tell him, as he wants you to.
you shy away from him again; this time, it’s not his mere wishful thinking. xavier doesn’t know what pulls you away, and more and more, farther from him. no, you are physically there, still on his ridiculously small bench, which the misers in the academy refuse to upgrade. in the same sense, it’s you, your mind, yourself — unknowingly, unintentionally, whatever that would make sense to his mind — that still doesn’t want to open up to him.
a frown tugs on his lips while your own lips part, inviting his eyes to look at. ”nothing. you know how training usually goes — just a mere something. no worries.” a group of laughing people tugs your eyes away from him, leaving him with no part of you.
just how much longer does he have to wait?
xavier sighs, his voice catching on something. ”a-are you hurt?”
you stiffen, hands on your lap closing onto one another. ”oh— i”
”uh, it’s... i mean” fuck. say something. say something! ”i-it was jeremiah. he was complaining about—”
”o-oh, okay. that’s— oh, right—” you wince as if reliving the exact moment jeremiah hit you.
you don’t say anything more. only your hand comes up to knead your shoulder. that’s enough for xavier. the urge in him to hug is roaring, and so is his want to comfort you. holding himself back, xavier slides closer to you, letting his thigh touch yours.
”may i?” he glances at your shoulders before meeting you in the eyes.
”you don’t have to— it’s nothing, really.” you don’t look at him now.
ahh, you are embarrassed. the red in your cheeks is very adorable, but you don’t have to be, not with xavier.
”let me help you.”
he smiles and cups your shoulder anyway, letting your warmth finally flood him.
you smile back. xavier can finally breathe easily now.
also happy pride month guys!!! 🫂🌈🫶🫶🫶 can’t wait to go on the parade soon 🥹
so about that arranged marriage oneshot the ending of man getting dragged off? reader was completely passive? a take where the reader actually stands their ground would be so lovely hope that helps!💞💞
imagine reading a whole oneshot about a person escaping an arranged marriage, building a new life, and marrying a crown prince, and calling them “completely passive.” couldn’t be me
“hope that helps!” doesn’t actually help when what you’re really saying is: i didn’t like this, and you should do it again my way and this is just so disheartening. if you didn’t like how i portrayed the reader-insert then you are free to close the fic, the back / block button exists for this very reason. why do you think i would change something i loved myself?
Not sure if requests are open but if/when they are consider: non-mc who's aware that the li is still hung up on mc. Instead of being heartbroken, non-mc secretly decides to just use the li (money, gifts, favors, etc) until non-mc has had enough or meets someone else.
sorry anon! but i am probably not the right person for this :(
Do you have any wips you're working on? I kind of miss your longer one shots. No pressure tho 🫂
hi hi! i do have some in the works. i don’t really want to share too much about them, so this is all i’ll offer 🙂↕️
of grated metal and rusted waters:
a chuckle, and he shakes his head again, the droplets landing on your skin this time. “i’ll be seeing you around then, [name].”
you stare as rafayel gets out of the shed, not minding his shirt getting wet or the rain which now pelts against the ground. he doesn’t look back at you, not once. his departing figure disappears into the town’s serpentine streets, the scent of a faraway sea and something that speaks of a reunion leaving alongside him.
i have always wanted to write for rafayel because he’s one of my faves, but i never get to (all thanks to a certain alien boy). this one is already becoming my most cherished writing, and i just can’t wait for the day when i will finally post this. at the same time, I truly don’t wish to rush through this, as this is the first-ever piece for rafayel. so, i guess this won’t be seeing the light of day anytime soon which is sad 💔
unnamed (this is like still very much in the beginning, so yeah, i haven’t thought of a title yet...)
summer felt like an innocent century ago. he’s not here to save you from this predicament. you can’t keep hiding in the safe embrace of the memories — in a reverie where he was still yours and you were still his — until the sleeping world wakes up. you can’t run away from the unyielding cold anymore, from reality itself.
from him.
the very notion of seeing, meeting rafayel again, sends a chill down your spine. it is what it is, you think. with a resigned sigh, you push the blankets off your body. cold wood licks at your feet as you stagger to your washroom with an unusual heaviness in your steps, as the ghost of his memory clings to your frame.
this is like a post-breakup situation featuring student!reader x professor!rafayel. i just love the angst (*T^T)
anyway, thank you for asking! i just hope i will be able to complete this one day 🥺
This prompt (no 30) w/ Lohen plzzz, the reader being GN and from Nod-Krai, with the both of them being soooo touch starved and also I want to see some YEARNING to each other (but never losing Lohen’s freakiness ofc 🤭)
contents: power dynamics, established tension, unresolved sexual tension resolved (lol), marking, biting, minor possessiveness from lohen (not that extreme), gender-neutral reader insert, slight plot.
word count: 1.1k
note: we love to see yearning here. i’m actually getting so impatient day by day. i just want 6.6 to drop already (and it really sucks that we are going to have to wait another 20ish days to pull him ahhh please have mercy 💔)
it’s a shadowed night tonight.
the flagship boasts a charming atmosphere with merchants from across teyvat, all in great anticipation for the nod krai expo event. it turned out to be a good idea to come and introduce yourself to some of the big names here.
one of them being the fine lady of the curatorium of secrets, nefer, whose laugh was quite lovely when her feisty cat wouldn’t let go of you. another was the infamous alcor crew. they represented themselves more like a family rather than the merciless mercs everyone thought them to be.
you sit in a corner, waving goodbye to beidou, reminiscing about the productive day you had. your drink, the snezhnayan infamous firewater, is still full; you could only take two sips before backing out, the fiery liquid burning in your body more than you could handle.
and — you smirk — this liquor is not the only thing that is burning holes through your body tonight.
past the figures of some drunken mondstadt knights, you see a familiar face. “lohen,” you mouth to him, watching as his eyes narrow. you wonder what he is doing here tonight. from the time you have spent with him, you would think this sort of black market event isn’t the place lohen would willingly attend.
but it wouldn’t really be lohen if he didn’t surprise you at all.
you know he’s looking at you. you can feel his stare move down your face to your lips as you pretend to sigh. you wonder if he wants something tonight. maybe, just maybe, you would give it to him if he makes the first move.
a few minutes pass with both of you playing the staring game. you try to take some more sips of that fiery liquor, if it meant lohen was going to see you do the same. you wait and wait, just as he becomes more and more impatient in that chair.
when you see him finally stand up, you do the same, not before leaving some change as a tip and immediately rushing out through the flagship. you take the familiar route back to your house, one that will take more time, not that you mind.
but lohen?
oh, you hope he will.
you don’t look back even once as you walk through the still bustling streets of nasha town. you know he’s there, somewhere, hiding behind a crate as you talk with some cheerful children. you know he’s here, with rage in his eyes, as you make sure to smile a bit more tenderly at a handsome fellow. you still think lohen is the most beautiful one, but of course you won’t say it, and you don’t really have to.
each step thrums just like your pulsing heart. you can’t help but think again and again, when he will finally come out and take you right here and right now. but he never does, even if you slow your pace, even if you are soon approaching your house.
you push open the rustic gate and stop for a moment. all around you flow the gentle sounds of the night: crickets chirping, the kuuhenkis whispering. everything except the one voice you so desperately want to hear. your giddiness dies down.
did you somehow read things wrong? you look at the sky. is he even following you?
with a sigh, one torn from your heart, you walk toward the front door. you haven’t even stepped foot inside your home before you are turned around and pinned to the door. the scent comes before the sensation — that same muskiness hiding something clean and raw.
“you came—”
lohen cuts you off, soft lips claiming yours, silencing whatever nonsense you were going to let out. your eyes catch sight of that familiar sea-green hair as it tickles your face, drawing more noises from you. his hands are rough as they hold yours against the wood, something akin to eagerness bleeding in his every kiss.
you feel him part from you, unusually flushed on this cool night. “don’t think i didn’t notice...”
“well, why is the vice-captain here then?” you smirk, pushing him off of you.
his eyes drop to your lips as you whisper, each word fanning the flickering flames more. his hand comes up to your neck, holding you still against him.
“you know damn well.”
the vice-captain pulls you inside your home, immediately encouraging you towards your bedroom. the door slammed shut, and you find yourself being laid on the bed with a gentleness that rarely graced him. suddenly feeling sentimental now, huh? you snicker, watching him take off his accessories.
“what’s so funny?”
lohen shoots you a glare that is read more like confusion. you don’t waste any time in pulling him above you, his hips slotting in between your spread thighs perfectly. your clothes are thrown somewhere in the corner of your room, ones you’ll definitely forget tomorrow.
his lips paint an entirely new map on your skin, each prolonged kiss marking something deeper inside of you. the next minutes are quiet, like still water, except for your heavy breathing and his murmurs of praise. your hand reaches up to nestle in his hair, tugging and pulling whenever he bites a bit too harshly.
“tell me,” lohen lifts and rests his face on your stomach, his hands kneading your waist. “where do you want me to touch you?”
it is more of an order than a question; you know how it always goes with him. your breathing remains erratic as you try to form some words. you know it, and he already knows too: that one place where you ache for him the most. and yet, his teasing seems relentless tonight.
“you don’t want me to?” lohen lifts further when you don’t respond, his hands loosening their grip on your skin, making you whine. “oh?”
“i—” you tug on his hand and slowly guide it down your stomach, resting it on top of your abdomen.
“i don’t know and i don’t care,” blurry-eyed, you look at him, heart tied in knots.
“i just want your hands on me—”
lohen’s breath hitches alongside yours.
“please?”
you know he won’t deny you that, and you are not surprised when he jumps back on you, his ravishing kiss tilting your world back. his hands are back, moving harder and faster, everywhere on your body as if he can’t decide where he should start first.
“i have waited for far too long...”
lohen whispers against your wet lips and turns you around on the bed. you feel his lips descend on your skin again, this time, mouthing a pulse that runs a beat too fast.
Took me a while to dig this post of mine out.
So, the Thrones of Eros banner gave me three ideas.
Want to give them a shot?
contents: reader is not the main character; the two men can be read as anyone you wish.
word count: ≈2k
note: this gave me the biggest rush of inspiration you have no idea ٩(◦`꒳´◦)۶ i was too busy around the time when this banner dropped and sadly didn't get to write anything for this 💔 so im almost grateful that i can now! anyway, the number one prompt immediately got my attention because i’m a sucker for arranged marriages. ugh the angst is just so delicious.
here’s the prompt for anyone who wants to read:
Non-MC is the LIs' arranged marriage partner since they were kids. But when the Lis fell in love MC/began ignoring Non-MC for MC, Non-MC decides to cancel the marriage contract and offer herself for a marriage alliance with the Crown Prince/unmarried King of a more powerful planet.
Cue the Lis crashing the wedding after they find out, only to find Non-MC is already married.
i also tried not to use any names for the lis because i wanted it to be as general as possible. apologies in advance because i once again went off the rails again and somehow wrote more than i planned (ノ_・。)
the marriage was declared before either of you could spell out your name.
now that you have grown up, you can’t help but think how absurd this whole thing is. absurd, yes, but you have always been a dreamer. it’s not your fault you find this a little more than just... absurd. something rises in your chest, perhaps it’s love and adoration, that you have been locking in yourself, waiting for a chance to give them to someone.
standing beside you is none other than your soon-to-be husband. you can’t see him yet; you haven’t even greeted him yet. you are forced to stare at the crowd instead that cheers for this union, and you wonder what expression he is making. your eyes look to the side. his shoes are the only thing visible to you, polished and all black. is he trying to look at you too? alas, it’s impossible to see anything right now. your gaze returns to the crowd as a daydream pulls you in.
do butterflies dance around in his stomach too?
has he dreamt of this exact moment many times before, just as you have?
there’s a certain comfort in knowing that someone is out there destined for you and only you, even if this marriage is nothing but a political convenience for both of your thrones. regardless, the little you is squealing inside, louder than any prayer you have ever recited.
finally, you will have someone to call yours too.
when your father turns to address the gathering, only then do you turn to face him. you don’t expect him to do the same, but it still makes you frown when he doesn’t turn to you. the high crown on his head catches your attention first, and you find yourself picturing a similar one — one that would soon be on your head. his gaze seems to have fixed on something in the crowd. you follow his line of sight, only to find someone at the end of it — the empress of your galaxy, the queen you could only dream of becoming one day.
a spark of something ignites between them. you see the empress smile before looking at you, mirth swirling in her eyes. your practiced face drops; you don’t care if the murmurs have begun in the hall. you peel your eyes from hers and look somewhere past the whispering crowd. your father’s speech reaches its end, and the fluttering butterflies in your heart die down as well.
the empress doesn’t waste any time congratulating you on the marriage. her hands are soft, way too soft. they don’t linger on yours as they do on his. she flashes a smile at him as well, one he quickly reciprocates. the sudden eagerness takes you off guard; the etiquette drilled into you seems to be slipping away. your lips turn down as you watch her leave, noticing the way he sucks in a breath.
is standing beside you too much of a hassle that he’d rather go with her?
he agreed to this too, didn’t he? then... why?
you bite your lips. why is he still pretending that you are not right here with him?
the naive part of you hopes that maybe you are reading too much into this, that maybe it isn’t what you think it is. but his hand never comes to cup yours, just as he did hers. you pray that he will finally acknowledge you, but he doesn’t even look at you once. with each passing second, the other part of you begins to understand just how big of an idiot you’ve been.
the first ceremony ends; many more are to come. responsibilities pertaining to the marriage are going to be lined up like never before. you don’t know how much longer you would last in this war for love, and you don’t know if you are even willing to fight now.
after that ceremony, your fiancé seems to have vanished as if he doesn’t have a whole wedding to prepare for. many staff and his men (the ones you, out of the kindness of your heart, assigned to him) often come to ask about the hideaway prince and his whereabouts. you are aware that it isn’t their fault for expecting you to know him, but the thing is, you don’t — and it makes you want to cry and throw everything away.
everyone else in your family operates on a different frequency than yours. to them, and the whole galaxy, this marriage is nothing short of a divine ordination. day by day, you are forced to sit in lectures you can’t bother to care about, wondering where the prince might be. he only shows up during dinners, sitting beside your father, ignoring you as usual.
everyone sees this — his behaviour, your prolonged silence, and yet no one ever comes to ask if you are doing well, if you still wish to marry him. not your father, not your mother. because you know that you don’t matter. it’s the alliance that will always come before you. you understand clearly by now that the prince doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. and it’s not like you expect anyone to, in similar circumstances.
what you were willing to fight for was a chance.
a chance to maybe turn this marriage into something more beautiful.
but it’s all gone now.
rumors have begun to circulate around the palace about the affair, the same ones that were planted deep in your heart at that one ceremony. it won’t be long before the whole galaxy becomes aware of this disaster. so, you do what you have to and, most importantly, what you really want to. you don’t care if he thinks your objection came out of nowhere. you know he knows what he’s done.
your family verbally denies your proposal, but you don’t care. the same night your father yelled at you, you decide that the palace could no longer bear you. you elope with the help of your close maids and swear to never set foot on this planet again.
on the neighbouring planet, your soon-to-be ex-fiancé receives the letter from your father explaining everything you’ve been holding onto these past few weeks. at first, he thinks of this as an inconvenience, because, of course, that would mean no more courting someone when he shouldn’t. your father has begged him to find you, his only daughter whom the prince so heartlessly trampled over. if he doesn’t do so, then your kingdom will happily withdraw its support from his.
his hands tremble, as sweat beads on his forehead. how the tables have turned. it was supposed to be you running after him, not him chasing after you.
why haven’t you looked back at him not once?
he tries to remember his time with you, desperately searching for something that might clue him in. but there isn’t anything he can recall. after all, he was the one who refused to be there for you when you most needed him.
you were also stuck in this mess just as he was, weren’t you?
it’s too late to realize that now.
his teeth grit, and he slams the scroll onto his table. he has no choice but to write to the empress, urging that their rendezvous ought to end now. by nightfall, his spaceship leaves the planet’s orbit, the prince setting out on a journey to find you.
many months pass with him traversing the cosmos and with you finally settling on a lone planet. this one is a bit further out in your galaxy, orbiting a giant black hole that is more an ornament in the sky rather than a threat.
down on the ground, life seems to flow slowly, relishing the tiniest of moments before they eventually slip away. you don’t find it difficult to adjust with the others. everyone seems to read the hardships written on your face easily, and you don’t mind if they do. soon, you are no longer living as royalty but a commoner on the city outskirts selling herbs to the needy, truly happy and feeling more than a mere bargain.
it is then during one of your workdays that you happen to encounter someone. your trained eye manages to see past the ragged clothes. his lips move in a similar manner, and his words rest as gently as yours. royalty, no doubt, one from whom you should distance yourself, considering the past, but he only pulls you in more and more. he smiles at you like it comes naturally. he helps you around the shop, tending to your herbs with a caring hand. with each conversation, you come to learn more about yourself. of course, he doesn’t divulge too much about himself, but being as sharp as you are, you quickly find out the truth.
he is the crown prince of this planet. rhe revelation doesn’t shock you; if anything, it only makes you all the more interested in him.
the morning you planned to confront him, he turns the tables on you and confesses first, requesting your hand, asking you to come to his palace and be his beloved spouse. you can only stand still as everything slowly dawns on you. this exact moment is what you used to fantasize about, and now it is happening right in front of your very eyes. overwhelmed with both concern and happiness, you jump into his arms, your head nodding yes.
the palace welcomes you with open arms. its preparations are starkly different from what they were back home, a new culture along with its traditions helping something fresh bloom inside of you. every night you return to your true love, parting with a kiss and a promise for a future both of you wish to see together.
on the fateful day, the whole planet seems to bow to you as you are carried in a carriage high above the cities, riding to the palace where the crown prince awaits. he looks at you walking down the aisle, tears already slipping down his cheeks as he bites his lips. you reckon your face is the same when you come before him, his hands taking yours.
“do you, the crown prince of—”
your prince is already nodding his head making everyone in the hall laugh. the priest turns to you, a tender smile on his lips. “do you, esteemed—”
his words get lost on the wind as you too mindlessly nod, entranced by the way your prince looks at you. this kiss is unlike anything before as he pulls you against him, afraid to let you go. when you part from each other, you laugh alongside the gathering, the bond already rooting deep within.
suddenly, the front doors of the hall bang open. Immediately, you turn just as the crowd erupts. at the front stands a manifest of your past. your ex-fiancé walks through the aisle, coming to stand before you.
“this is enough—” he reaches for you but is immediately stopped by your now-husband.
“they are coming home with me now!” he glares at your husband.
“dear, what’s going on?” your husband turns to you, worry painting his features. you, on the other hand, only feel rage, tremendous enough to burn the other man if you wished to.
“enough is enough,” you spat at him, pushing against his shoulder. he stumbles backward, a scowl escaping from him.
with a flick of your hand, the guards are summoned, ready to intervene. “i will not let you ruin this day for me!”
you turn to your husband, promising to tell him everything, and he nods, taking matters into his hands. you watch from the altar as your ex-fiancé is dragged away, no match for the numerous guards latching onto him.
with pride in your chest, you manage to wink at him just before the doors close.
Do you have any Lohen headcanons? I would love to hear more ♡♡
hewoo! i do have some!! disclaimer as always: these are just my ramblings, please don’t come for me. written before version 6.6.
lohen loves sitting at the windowsill, whether it be in the knight’s headquarters or a random tavern. ocassionally, one would find either a glass of wine swirling in his hand or his trusty knife gliding along the glass (he has scratched the window many times before, and diluc is absolutely tired of him)
even though he will never admit it, lohen likes seeing varka drunk (totally not because he enjoys his suffocating hugs)
and i actually think lohen and rosaria would be the best of buddies! lohen often wraps up his duties early just so he can go visit the sister in the church. the two of them have come to appreciate the quiet company, and if you ever want to join them, you can find them on a watchtower or in dragonspine, smoking a joint.
lohen also enjoys being with the kids. he had his doubts at first, wondering if it was appropriate for him considering his “blood lust,” but he was pleasantly surprised at how easily he gets along with them. he himself goes out of his way to get klee out of confinement (don’t tell jean though), and he enjoys warding off any weirdos that disturb diona at the bar.
he also loves the adventurer trio: fischl, bennett, and razor. they would often come to him for guidance, and he would find it hard to turn them away. in some way, they remind him of his younger self.
also... this is a bit too sentimental, but i feel like lohen would think that he doesn’t deserve any of this — the knights and everything. he has gotten too deep in his feelings and immaturely written quite a few of the resignation letters. even though he hasn’t told anyone about this, the letters would always mysteriously vanish. it should be the answer enough, but of course, lohen hasn’t stopped writing the drafts. perhaps, he likes it knowing someone is out there who doesn’t want him to leave.
okay what if there is a possibility of them i don’t know like thinking of sharing mc? how would that go? if they arent thinking of killing eachother every second 😭
i don't want to be that person, but i fear that’s just not going to work out. just saying... the five of them are just so different — they all have their own needs of mc, and frankly, everyone is so selfish too. but! if mc is the one suggesting trying this, then maybe, perhaps, it might... work... a little? only a little, if i say so myself. they might stop trying to kill each other, but after that, all of them are hitting a plateau. other scenarios i can think of are like only two of them “sharing” mc at a time. the one such pair that comes to my mind is caleb and zayne. they just have so much history already, mc won’t have to go through the tedious process of “acquainting” them, so there’s that. apart from the recent differences, the two might even come to bond over their shared childhood... other than that duo, some pairs that might work, surprisingly:
xavier and zayne: they are both pretty calm headed at most times, i reckon the two would certainly come to appreciate the other’s quietness. xavier might need a bit more assurance but maybe it will work out.
rafayel and caleb: hey, once caleb realizes just how unhinged rafayel is, maybe he won't feel so alone, right? right? ahem, on a serious note, caleb will see just how much you want to keep him around, and of course, for your happiness (and if rafayel is also willing to participate), then he might let it happen. caleb would probably think of rafayel as a toy you have for yourself, and rafayel would just straight up ignore caleb. and since caleb would usually be out most of the time, rafayel is all yours, but of course, caleb doesn’t have to know that (unless he has cameras installed, then you might be cooked...)
sylus would be willing to try it with anyone except xavier (mainly because of the philos stuff), but do know that he’s definitely going to make excuses to keep you locked in the n109 zone. he’s just going to wait and see just how long the other party will comply with his demands. and if it turns a little messy, then he’s just going to get someone to kill the other. (also, now that i think about it, in my original post, i could have also mentioned that sylus could make someone disappear, but then again... i just feel like he just... wouldn’t want to make it too difficult, messy for himself. so the easiest route for him would be through you, not anyone else.)
also, don’t take my word for it; i am just going off what i have interpreted from the game. if you think the ot5 polycule could work, then it absolutely can!
