tenderbeck

[tenderbeck]

A little help

You needed some comfort, and Zayne was right there to give it to you.

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ pairing: zayne x fem!mc

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ genre: hurt/comfot and smut, so MDNI

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ word count: 2.8k

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ tags: explicit, hurt/comfort, mild body issues, mc is just sad rn, but zayne’s here to help, cockwarming, cockwarming as therapy, also mc goes to actual therapy, zayne is there to comfort mc while he finishes his paperwork, really emotional, soft dom zayne, usually brat mc now is just in need of some comfort, creampie, sweet aftercare, they love each other so much

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ links: ao3, x thread

this is my only lads account, i'll only post my writings here, on ao3 and x (check pinned) NOT IN ANY OTHER BLOGS / ACCOUNTS

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ author's note: hello baby bats!! here once again delivering some good old hurt/comfort zaynemc fic. i needed something like this sm so I said “why not write it” so here we are, I really hope it’ll bring you some sort of comfort as it did for me, I hope my care and love seep out of my words and reach you, warming your heart <3 let me know if you liked it and remember: English is not my first language so please be kind to me

It had been another awful day.

Your last month had been full of awful days.

Another mission that went on for forever with little to no results, one of your colleagues almost lost his life because of a wanderer, and you couldn’t help but think that, if only you were quicker and stronger, you could’ve helped him. You could’ve avoided his injury. You could’ve…

A ping distracted you from all the overthinking, so you took the phone out of your pocked and checked the messages.

My Snowman: Are you on your way home? I’m waiting for you.

You softly smiled but didn’t find in you the strength to reply, too tired to even think about moving your fingers to text back, so you typed just a simple “Yes” and shut your phone. You didn’t even have the strength to think about going back home by yourself, but you braved it since you knew Zayne was waiting there. You needed to be with him so much it almost hurt.

As you opened the door you were met with a silent house, the usual cluttering of Zayne making dinner not heard since it was still too early to eat. You took off your shoes and your jacket, put your keys in their place by the entrance door and headed to the bedroom, throwing your bag in an unprecise place in the room. You noticed that the light in Zayne’s studio was on, indicating that he was still finishing some paperwork.

Fantastic.

You were all alone with your thoughts, until you heard a soft “Are you home snowflake?”.

You replied with a mere “Mhmh” and went to the bathroom to take a shower. You hated being like this, almost nonverbal because of the stress, but you couldn’t manage to pull the words out of your throat. Fortunately, Zayne knew this, hence his “I’ll wait for you here then, dear” as a reply.

When you finished washing yourself, you dried your hair and put on your favourite panties and nightgown, a little treat to try and make yourself feel better. It was made with a light blue fabric adorned with little snowflakes embroidered delicately into it, creating a swirling pattern that started on the front and ended on the back, the length reaching you midthighs, where a pair of white stockings began. What completed the look were the panties: a simple Brazilian shape, the same colour of the nightgown.

You looked at your body and then approached the mirror above the sink, watching your reflection. Right now, you could only see flaws: your eyebags being more visible and darker than usual, your face had some stress-pimples – as you liked to call them –, eyes red and almost watery from holding back tears the whole day. You hated how you looked in that moment, the nightgown doing nothing but looking out of place on your body, such a refined piece of clothing on such an ugly–

“Snowflake, are you coming here?” Zayne’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, as if sensing where they were heading. You looked one last time at yourself and decided to come out of the bathroom, heading to Zayne’s studio.

You knocked on the door and, when you heard his consent, you entered the room but you stayed by the doorframe, hands gripping it for dear life, your knuckles turning white. He looked so focused on his laptop, typing away at an inhumane speed while he stole some glances at your form.

“Beloved, you look lovely in that nightgown,” you could see the corners of his lips curving into a small, focused smile. Even if he looked almost uninterested you knew you had his attention, he was just waiting for you to express yourself.

But right now, you weren’t able to have a conversation, words stuck in your throat in fear of bursting out crying if you dared utter them.

This didn’t go unnoticed, a worried gaze shifting from his laptop to your face, fast hands stopping on their tracks, “Snowflake, are you ok?”

You couldn’t do anything but shake your head “no”, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

Zayne knew it was one of those days, “Do you want to keep me company while I finish my work?” he said, this the only way to convince you not choose being alone in your dark room. When you uncertainly nodded, he moved his chair away from the desk and opened his arms, “Come here snowflake, let me help you.”

You walked over to him but hesitated, you needed something more than just cuddles. You needed to feel full, to feel at ease with yourself. You needed not to think.

Zayne seemed to catch on your thoughts, a tender smile adorning his face. He took your hands and made you sit on his lap facing him, your arms going around his neck almost instinctively, “I’m going to ask you some questions dear, just nod or shake your head to let me know what you want, no need to talk, like we always do in these situations, ok sweetheart?” he said as he searched in your eyes for some signs of discomfort.

You nodded and he caressed your face, “Do you need just cuddles?” you shook your head no.

“Do you want to take your mind off things?” now you nodded.

“Do need me inside you?” you nodded again, his hand touching gently your hair while his other tenderly caressed your side, your eyes closing for a second.

“Do you need me to do everything?” he then added, his tone firm but soft. you nodded and added a meek “please”.

“Baby you don’t need to talk now, let me take care of you, ok?” you nodded.

“From one to ten, how sad are you today?” he took your hands from his neck and placed them in front of you, “Show me with your fingers,” he continued as he kissed them. You showed him a six, but his inquisitive look made you change for an eight. Ever the perceptive man, he knew you like the back of his hand, like you were linked together by fate.

“Let’s get ourselves ready then snowflake,” he said and kissed your nose and forehead as he reached for a secret drawer in the desk, pulling out a lubricant. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence, hence the preparation.

You tried to help him take off his belt and unzip his pants, because even if, earlier, you said you didn’t want to do anything, you still felt guilty for distracting him from his work, but Zayne didn’t let you, “Baby let me do everything, you know I always want to,” he gently squeezed your side and brushed his nose on your cheek, “If I didn’t want to I would’ve said so.” You nodded convinced by his speech, so you let him do everything alone.

He helped you up and took off your panties, placing them inside the clean drawer he opened before, then he took off his pants and boxers, not wanting to hurt you with the zipper were you to sit on it.

Zayne then took the clear lubricant and spread it on his penis, not even bothered by the cold. You watched attentively has he stroked himself, trying to get into a half chub. The slow but steady movements hypnotised you, mind too occupied with him to think about your day. It was still in the back of your head though, threatening to come out at any moment. Your attention was averted by him placing his fingers on your chin and making you look at his face, the gentlest smile directed at you, and you only.

“I’m ready baby, let me touch you too,” he said and gestured you to come closer. You sat on his lap, legs spread enough to make his hand come between them, new lubricant spreading deliciously over your folds. The pleasure was starting to make your brain fuzzy; attention only directed at his movements and at the sweet words whispered in your ear, “You’re such a good girl, listening to me so diligently, making me do everything for you,” Zayne said, starting to place kisses on your neck. It wasn’t even sexual, it was just… comforting,

like a weighted blanket had been pulled over your frame and was keeping you there, focused only on the present and on his hands touching oh so sweetly your core. Your thoughts were beginning to clear, and you knew this was already affecting you.

You sensed his finger slowly prod at your entrance, dipping in and not fully penetrating you. You let out a quiet moan and put your head on his shoulder, arms hugging his neck and mouth kissing it messily.

He put his head on yours and, steadying you with one hand, he put one finger inside your vagina, your velvety walls swallowing it whole. He rested his finger there for a moment, letting you get accustomed to it, then he started to pump it in and out of you, the rhythm fixed and bringing a sense of familiarity to your almost clouded mind.

He slowly added a second finger, both of them now dragging over your walls and caressing every part of you he could reach. You could feel his skilled fingers move inside you, just them were enough to make you relax, your own juices flowing down and wetting his hand while pleasure was slowly creeping into every crevice of your mind, filling it with only thoughts of Zayne, Zayne, Zayne.

“Now I’ll put my cock inside you, are you ready?” he whispered in your ear. When you nodded, he lifted you up and took his member in his hand, guiding it into your entrance.

The stretch was delicious, pain melting into pleasure as you let out a string of soft moans and clenched around his now fully erect dick, sweet nothings being whispered in your ear by your lover.

You both gasped as he bottomed out, the feeling of being full sending shivers down your spine, your back caressed by a caring hand.

You loved this moment.

The moment you knew you were physically connected.

The moment you could focus on, every thought beginning to leave your mind as you put your every sense into feeling only him.

Into feeling your Zayne.

You could faintly hear him talk to you, “My precious girl, relax yourself while I finish here,” he said to you while he gave one last caress to your sides, “Can you do it?”

You took a moment to regain yourself before you nodded and then kissed Zayne’s neck, as if to reassure him that you were very much alright and content, the delicious pull of nothingness returning in your mind soon after.

You registered him wiping his hands with a tissue and the lemon scent of the hand sanitiser he was using lulled you deeper into your state, along with the soft tapping of his fingers on his laptop’s keyboard.

You tried to use some tips your therapist gave you to ground yourself, so you concentrated in what was around you now.

And it was Zayne.

You could see his broad back, the last thing you saw right before closing your eyes.

You could hear the sound of his heartbeat, beating steadily in his ribcage.

You could smell his cologne, a fresh but mature scent that went perfectly along something that was so distinctly him.

You could touch his soft hair, your hands tangling into the silky locks to ground yourself.

You could taste his sweat while you occasionally lapped at his neck, leaving a trail of kisses that started right under his ear, reaching his clavicle.

You could feel him inside you, the sporadic throb of his dick caused by your clenching not going unnoticed.

He was everywhere.

Your mind now was blank; you could only focus on him.

This was all so intimate and tender that the sexual part wasn’t even relevant anymore, the only thing that mattered was you two being linked not only by soul but by bodies too.

You could finally close your eyes in ease; your bond was unbreakable now.

You could hear someone calling you, the mist invading your mind slowly dissipating and giving space to a new coloured world as you opened your eyes.

“There you are snowflake,” said Zayne, “How do you feel now?” you were met with his adorable smile, his hands caressing your cheek while you were taking in your surroundings.

Them still being only Zayne, obviously.

“I feel…” you paused, searching for the right word, “At ease. Calm,” you continued, your eyes meeting his green ones, the colour bringing joy to your very soul. “How much time was I out?” you asked, red creeping to your face at the realisation that you fell asleep.

Zayne let out a low chuckle, “It was only forty minutes dear, nothing to worry your pretty head about,” he kissed your forehead, “Let’s go prepare dinner, I’ve just finished doing my paperwork” he said, trying to get you off of him to get dresses, but you had other plans.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” you asked as you clenched your core, his dick throbbing in anticipation and a moan finding a way to break his otherwise serious demeanour.

He smiled surprised and squeezed your waist, “My girl was so good today, I think she deserves a little treat,” he said, positioning his hands under your ass and tightening the grip while he got up; the way to the bedroom never felt so short, you two still connected by your sexes.

As he put you on the bed, you kissed everywhere you could reach, careful on leaving marks in places you knew only you two were allowed to look.

Zayne took your chin between his fingers, “Look only at me,” he said panting, then he kissed you, tongue licking your bottom lip and teeth searching for something to bite on. There wasn’t any hurry in this, though, the slow grinding of his hips sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Please, Zayne, make me come,” you said in between pants, the need for release building up into you like a geyser ready to erupt.

“Gladly, snowflake,” was his reply, hand coming to your leg and lifting it to make you wrap both of them around his waist. Then the thrusting began.

It was a slow and steady rhythm, the force making you move upward on the bed.

You loved when Zayne did this, it wasn’t the speed that made you melt into his arms, letting out a string of moans of the most dishevelled nature, drool coming out of your mouth that was promptly sucked away by his tongue, but it was his strength. The way you could feel him in the deepest part of your stomach, engulfing you from the inside out, making you feel full and satisfied. It was one of the things you loved the most about having sex with Zayne.

His thrust began to pick up speed though, his breathing ragged and uneven, bites on your breasts and the base of your neck becoming wilder and needier.

You ecstatically smiled, almost drugged on the pleasure, and put your hands in his hair.

And you pulled.

Because you knew he loved it.

A loud moan left his mouth, followed by a rare curse that made you clench on him following his rhythm, your need for release building up impossibly faster, just as his thrusts.

“Snowflake, you don’t know how much I love being like this with you,” a sloppy kiss met your open mouth, tongues dancing together, searching each other, “You don’t know how happy it makes me to know that- aah,” a moan interrupted his speech, “That you trust me with your care, with your body and with your mind,” he finished, mouth and hands touching everywhere he could reach, groping, squeezing, caressing, biting, licking, loving.

These words snapped the last string of sanity you had, leaving you with incoherent moans and legs keeping Zayne impossibly close to you, your vagina spasming around his girthy cock while you released your precious juices all over him, mouth biting his bottom lip so hard you swore you could taste the metallic flavour of blood, and this was enough for him to topple over the edge, one last thrust and he was gone, his semen filling you deliciously.

Heavy breaths were heard, needy mouths were kissed, and greedy hands were grabbed. As Zayne was about to pull out to get both of you cleaned up, you stopped him, not wanting this closeness to go away yet.

“My snowflake needs extra care today, I see,” he joked, taking you in his arms and rolling over so that now you laid on top of him.

You laughed and pecked his chest, little kisses trailing from one pectoral to the other, “I just need my husband inside me for a while longer,” you replied, a hand stroking tenderly your back.

“Let’s stay like this for five more minutes, then we’ll go wash up and prepare dinner,” Zayne said, and you knew better than disobey him.

You smiled mischievously at his directions, though.

Being the little brat you were, you needed to make this just a little more difficult than it should’ve been.

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ click to find my masterlist

[tenderbeck]

– sylus losing his virginity to you ༯

"mmph! t-this? is this right?" he gulped, crimson gaze glistening at you as he continues thrusting himself in and out of you in a quick movement.

"y-yes!" you moan, rolling your hips against his, plump flesh hitting against each other at every minute passing, making sylus lose his mind at every thrust he sent.

"good? yeaahhh it is..."

as his pace grew quicker and quicker, his fingers were clawing at you like it was the end of his life, short nails left marks on your smooth skin, hand prints sinking in, leaving a dent that could last forever.

"ugh...'m close-" he shuddered, catching his breath at the brutal pace he was going at, couldn't even try to stop or control himself because he was so blinded at the pleasure he wish he experienced earlier.

"can I do it inside? hm?"

your eyes widen at the request and before you could even process what he said, another thrust slammed right into you, then another, and another, and it kept going, you could feel his cock pulsating harder and harder inside you.

you felt like your legs and whole body was going to melt at his touch, a burning sensational feeling sunk down to the lower half of your stomach, and fuck, you could cum any second now.

"please?" he begged in a low whisper, a hint of desperation laced in it.

you shamelessly nod, gripping onto the bedsheets as the final thrusts went through, and spurs of his mixture jolted through your body.

"feels so good.. hah.. again." he seethed, pulling out and looking at you for approval, eyes silently begging for your answer.

[tenderbeck]

[tenderbeck]

— riding cowboy sylus ༯ (a lil extra after the cut ^^)

“c’mon sweetie, roll those hips faster.” he muses, cupping on the sides of your flushed face to look up at you.

desperate, sweet noises escaped your lips and you choke a loud moan as you listened to him, quickening the pace on him and rolling your hips more smoothly.

sylus hums and bucks his hips forward, a loonggg drag of a groan left those parted lips, trying to contain his noises in the secluded corner of the barn.

the thing was, both of you were in the mood and there was no way sylus wanted to take time to drive back to your house. so instead, he thought of bringing you to the barn with no animals inside, and sat on a wooden box in the corner of the area.

and that’s what led the two of you from just a ‘little’ make out session to you completely riding him with your tiny skirt, raking up your thighs at every thrust.

“keep going darlin’ you’re doing so, soo good.”

mumbled praises kept leaving those beautiful lips that you just wanted to kiss at every word coming out of his mouth, but he got to it before you could.

the rim of his hat, lightly hitting your forehead as he sunk himself deeper in your touch. you wince against his lips and pull away, sliding his hat off.

“wanna wear it?” he teased, watching you place his hat on your head, the material surprisingly suiting you very well.

sylus looked at you with a pleased grin and lightly bit his bottom lip, canines sinking deep in his rosy flesh, holding back every drop he had rema—

well fuck, he couldn’t.

cause a loud crash! echoed through the barn and you— who was once sitting on sylus’ lap was now pressed down against the small box the two of you were sitting on.

legs spread wide open for him, he cupped on your knees and spread them wider, soon dropping down on his knees as he inched his face to where he wanted it.

the tip of his nose brushed against your soaked panties. a low, hungry growl escaped his lips as he clung onto the seamless fabric bonded with your skin.

“sylus!” you whine, biting your lip to contain the noises echoing through the small space. but sylus didn’t respond back, instead slid off the fabric and lapped his tongue against your sensitive folds.

thumbs resting on the sides as he stretchedd you out, tasting more of you.

you immediately cling onto his hair and drive yourself deeper in him. a hard, threatening grasp was kept on those silver locks which made him want to tease you even more.

you look down at sylus who was still devouring you like a predator eating its prey, a grumble left your lips as you tried seeking for his reaction — any emotion he could be feeling right now but it looked like a complete mess.

sylus winked open an eye, staring up at you with heart shaped pupils, tears slowly sliding down those ruby lids.

your breath hitches at the sight of him and desperate pants leave your lips, legs wrapping around him once you felt his pace going even quicker.

“fuck! c-calm down” you choke, the grip on his hair growing tighter and legs start trembling like you were about to collapse.

“please ‘m..hngh”

“do it, my cowgirl.”

a/n; wrote a little too much after the cut i’m sorry!!!!! also no color text today but i’ll be editing that soon, sorry again

[tenderbeck]

cowboy sylus

—a whole lot of teasin’, sexual tension, sylus is a menace (but so are you), use of the nickname ‘bunny’, poor attempt at a southern accent (real sorry darlin’)

you wanted to fuck that damn smirk off that gorgeous cowboy’s face.

it had been days of pure torture.

you were the sweet daughter of the town chief. everyone knew you. elders praised you. all grace and manners, they said. always so respectful, always with a kind word and a soft smile. boys your age circled like moths to a flame, but none ever got too close. not with your daddy keepin’ a loaded rifle in the shed and a reputation for shootin’ first, askin’ later. ain’t no man good enough for his baby girl.

but you weren’t half as innocent as they thought you were, were you darlin’?

you played the part real well. everybody got fooled. the town’s sweetheart. battin’ your lashes, lookin’ up through those big doe eyes like you didn’t have a single wicked thought in that pretty little head of yours. but deep down, you knew how to pull the strings. knew just how to smile and sweet-talk your way into gettin’ exactly what you wanted.

they didn’t really knew you, didn’t they?

no one really knew your mind was filled with thoughts so sinful, you’d need a whole month of repentance just for thinkin’ one. no one knew you dreamed of rough hands on soft skin, touchin’ you just right, holdin’ you just tight enough to make you feel like you’d come undone. you’d lay awake at night, wonderin’ about someone older. someone who’d let you run wild, then fuck the attitude clean outta you when the day was done. not like those shy, fumblin’ boys who just wanted a sweet, obedient thing to hang on their arm.

but he knew.

that cowboy who bought the old bar downtown and that stretch of land a mile out. sylus, he said his name was. came ‘round one afternoon, stood on your daddy’s porch all calm and easy, tip of his hat and a firm handshake. said he was lookin’ for help on the ranch, wondered if your daddy could spread the word.

your daddy liked him. said he was a man’s man—respectful, hardworkin’, self-made. reminded him of himself back in the day.

but would he still think so if he knew what that cowboy was really after?

the minute sylus laid eyes on you, he saw clean through that sugar-sweet disguise. saw the sin sittin’ behind your smile, the devil hidin’ underneath that short little sundress you wore like temptation itself. and you knew he wanted you by the way his eyes stuck on you a second too long, the way his jaw tightened up every time you said his name like honey slow-drippin’ off your tongue.

sylus knew. knew you were trouble.

knew that you were just itchin’ to be found out.

and he was real tempted to give in.

‘specially when he’d come by your porch, talkin’ business with your daddy. you’d sashay on out with a drink tray in them soft little hands, offerin’ up sweet tea and an even sweeter smile. always leanin’ just a bit too close when you set the glasses down, lettin’ him catch a glimpse of the curve of your chest, lettin’ your perfume settle right under his skin. like you planned it that way.

or when you’d show up at the bar with your girlfriends, dressed like summer sin, laughin’ under the lights, never drinkin’ too much, just enough to let your hips sway easy with the country beat. he’d be behind the counter, tryin’ his damn best to focus on the pour—but your eyes never left him. not once.

he damn near gave in the other day, helpin’ your daddy fix up that old beat-up truck. sun was high, sweat slickin’ down his neck, grease on his hands—and while your daddy headed inside to grab more tools, you came out with somethin’, hell, he don’t even remember what it was—‘cause you dropped it on purpose, didn’t you?

bent over real slow in front of him, like you didn’t know what you were doin’.

then you stood up all sweet, handed him a towel like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes big and innocent. praisin’ him like a preacher’s daughter.

“workin’ so hard,” you said, soft and syrupy,

fingers trailin’ over the dirt on his chest, slow as sin. “don’t know what we’d do without ya.”

and for a second, he damn near gave you what you’d been beggin’ for without sayin’ a word.

but where’s the fun in lettin’ you have it easy?

sylus wasn’t the kind of man to give in to a challenge. not without makin’ you work for it. and hell, there’s still so much more he’s curious about. he needs to know just how far you’re willin’ to go. what other tricks you’ve got hidin’ behind that sweet smile and them soft glances. what else you’d dare do to rile him up.

but mostly… he wants to give you a taste of your own damn medicine.

teasin’ you, same way you’ve been teasin’ him. real slow, real deliberate. watchin’ how you squirm when he leans in close but don’t touch, when his voice drops low and rough in your ear, makin’ you wonder if today’s the day he finally snaps.

you were playin’ a dangerous game.

and he was startin’ to forget why he shouldn’t play it right back. he was givin’ it right back now. every trick you pulled, he turned it on you tenfold, and worse still, he knew exactly how much you were affected.

“careful there, princess,” he said one afternoon, standin’ behind you at the porch while your daddy hammered away at the fence just a few steps ahead. sylus leaned in close, one hand braced on the rail right beside your waist. his breath ghosted over your ear, close enough to make your skin prickle, but not quite touchin’. “that dress is a little short for bendin’ over like that, don’t you think?”

you froze, heart skippin’, not from fear, but from heat. he just chuckled low under his breath and walked off whistlin’ like he hadn’t just set you on fire.

“look at you, angel,” he’d say when you dropped by the bar, pretendin’ to be there for a soda while your friends laughed near the jukebox. he’d slide the glass toward you slow, fingers brushing yours just barely. “you always this thirsty, or is it just when i’m around?”

but the worst—the one that got you every time—was when he called you bunny. it wasn’t just the word. it was the way he said it. low and certain, like he’d already made up his mind that you were his. his to tease, to hunt, to have when he finally felt like takin’ you.

he said it when no one else was listenin’.

when your daddy asked him to help unload supplies and you’d followed out back just to sneak a moment alone.

“would ya be a sweet lil’ bunny and hand me that?” he’d say, noddin’ to the rope coiled by your feet, not even lookin’ at it. just lookin’ at you. his eyes were all over you—draggin’ slow from your legs up to your mouth, like he was already undressin’ you in his mind, already takin’ his damn sweet time with what he knew was already his for the takin’.

and when you did hand it over, cheeks hot, mouth dry, he let his fingers close around yours a second too long, eyes borin’ into yours with a heat that makes you feel like you’re doin’ something you shouldn’t do.

“good girl,” he murmured, soft enough to make your knees go weak.

he never crossed the line. never touched where he shouldn’t, never said nothin’ someone else could catch. but god, he danced on the edge of it, all with that stupid smirk on his face. and the worst part? he did it all with your daddy just a breath away.

you’d watch him laugh with your daddy, talk business like nothin’ was brewin’ under the surface. but every now and then, he’d glance over, eyes lockin’ with yours like a silent promise.

you were startin’ to hate how much you wanted it. how he had you waitin’, yearnin’, burnin’—and still refused to give you more. how he’d just watch when you leaned in all soft and sweet, poutin’ like you thought that might be the thing to finally tip the scale.

but it only ever made him grin.

“you alright there, bunny?” he murmured one night, passin’ you in the hallway on his way out, your daddy just a few feet away in the next room. “lookin’ a little tense.” he leaned in, voice like warm smoke in your ear.

“you can always tell me if you need help. truth is, you wouldn’t know what to do without me, would ya?”

and then that smug bastard was gone, walkin’ out the door without so much as a glance back. leavin’ you breathin’ hard, thighs squeezed tight, and so damn mad you could scream.

he wanted you just as bad. fuck, you knew he did. saw it in the way his jaw tightened when you laughed, the way his eyes lingered a second too long, like he was holdin’ himself back.

but that son of a gun… he was waitin’.

waitin’ for you to give in. for you to take that first step, let go of all that pretendin’.

he didn’t just want to chase you. no, he wanted to watch you burn. wanted to see you light that fire you kept buried down deep, the one he knew was there.

you wanted to be a menace?

then be one.

show him just how wicked his sweet little bunny could get.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

that evenin’ he’d brought over a bottle of wine for your daddy, sayin’ it was a gift from the bar, just somethin’ nice to wind down the week. and as he passed behind you on the porch, he’d bumped you ever so gently, makin’ you stumble just enough.

his hand caught your waist, barely there, but firm, fingers pressing right where your body ached for more. he leaned in close, voice all velvet and smoke right against your ear.

“careful there, bunny.”

and then he let go. just like always. just enough to drive you insane.

so you took matters into your own hands.

told your daddy you were spendin’ the night at a friend’s place, a girls’ sleepover, you said, nothin’ special. he’d smiled, kissed your forehead, told you to have fun. sweet and trustin’ as ever.

he didn’t know you’d be walkin’ straight to sylus’ doorstep instead.

by the time you reached his place, your palms were sweatin’, heart thuddin’ like a drum in your chest. you knocked once, twice. barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door creaked open.

and there he was.

shirt unbuttoned just enough, eyes already locked on yours like he knew. like he’d been waitin’ for this exact moment.

“well, look what the—”

his words never made it out.

you surged forward, fingers in his shirt, mouth on his, crashin’ into him like a storm you’d been holdin’ back for far too long.

your lips, your hands. hell, everything about you was greedy.

you were pullin’ at his shirt, fisting your fingers in his hair, bitin’ at his bottom lip like you wanted to take a piece of him with you.

but he stumbled back a half step, breath catchin’, eyes dark.

“woah, woah — slow down there, bunny.”

but you didn’t slow. didn’t even pretend to.

you damn near growled before sinkin’ your teeth into his neck, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to warn him.

and that was it.

in one quick, rough motion, sylus had you pinned up against the wall, his body pressed close, heat radiatin’ off him like wildfire. one hand shot up and grabbed both your wrists in a single, strong grip, slammin’ them above your head and holdin’ you there like it was nothin’.

his eyes locked on yours, and you weren’t shy about starin’ right back, a wild little glare burnin’ in your gaze like you dared him to stop you again.

“i told you to slow down, didn’t i?” he muttered, low and amused, lips curled in that maddening smirk.

then he laughed, soft and low, the kind that raked down your spine.

his free hand hovered just over your skin—didn’t touch, not quite—but you could feel it. ghostin’ over your jaw, down the curve of your neck, slow as ever. draggin’ lower to your waist, fingers never meetin’ flesh, just close enough to make you ache.

he wasn’t holdin’ back anymore but he was takin’ his damn time.

his lips inched closer to yours. not kissing, just hovering, just there. and his breath was warm against your face, mixin’ with your own, heavy and fast. his hand still hadn’t touched you, not really, just floatin’ over your skin like a damn ghost, keepin’ you on edge.

“look at you,” he murmured, voice all low and velvet-rough, thick with that lazy drawl that drove you wild. “been runnin’ ‘round all week like a little tease.”

his fingers drifted just beside the line of your jaw, makin’ your breath hitch even though he still hadn’t touched you.

“flashin’ that pretty smile. sway in your step. bendin’ over in front of me like you didn’t know exactly what you were doin’.” he shook his head, clucked his tongue softly. “you been real bad, haven’t you, bunny?”

he tilted his head, eyes flickin’ down to your lips, hoverin’ there like he was debatin’ whether or not to claim them.

“tuggin’ at your skirt like you’re innocent. starin’ at me with those eyes like you ain’t been imaginin’ this every night.”

his hand ghosted over your throat, down your collarbone, and lower, hovering just above your chest. you arched forward, desperate for anything, but he didn’t give in. not yet.

“you wanted my attention so damn bad,” he whispered, smirkin’, that cocky tilt to his lips that made you wanna slap him or kiss him or both. “and now you got it.”

he leaned in close, lips brushin’ your cheek, breath warm and steady against your ear.

“so tell me, bunny,” he murmured, voice thick as molasses, laced with that dark, dangerous charm. “what should i do with you right now?”

you froze, flush crawlin’ up your neck like fire. you couldn’t say it. god, you wanted to, but the words tangled in your throat. your whole body was achin’, beggin’, but your mouth wouldn’t move.

so you turned your face away—just for a second. not outta pride. outta shame. wantin’ it too much. needin’ him too badly.

but that’s when he touched you.

his fingers slid up, slow and deliberate, until they found your chin. he tilted your face back to his with a firm little grip, holdin’ you in place, eyes lockin’ on yours.

“you weren’t shy before,” he said, tone dipped in mock sweetness, but that sharp edge was right beneath it. “batting them lashes, brushin’ against me like it was just somethin’ innocent.”

his thumb grazed your bottom lip, slow.

“what happened to that mouth of yours, huh? all that attitude, and now you’re quiet?”

he leaned in even closer, his voice sinkin’ low, thick with challenge, with want. that thumb of his still restin’ soft against your lip, like he was remindin’ you just how close he could be without givin’ you anything.

even that—that barest touch—had your skin burnin’. after all that time wantin’ him, dreamin’ about him, sufferin’ through every smirk and whisper… you were already halfway undone.

you bit your lip, holdin’ back a sound, a plea. then you muttered it, barely above a breath.

“…i want you.”

he blinked, slow, then tilted his head with a lazy little smirk. “what was that, now? can’t hear ya, bunny.” he was a cruel man. slow and cruel and patient.

he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, voice low enough to vibrate through your chest.

“say it louder, so i can be sure.”

your throat tightened. eyes stingin’ now, not from hurt, but from sharp, sweet, unbearable need.

you closed your eyes, swallowed hard… then opened them again.

and you stared right into him.

“i want you to take me,” you whispered, voice shaky, breakin’ just a little at the end. shaky, breakin’ just a little at the end. “i want you to take me in all the ways you imagined.” your voice was clearer now, your confidence returning when you say just how much he was holdin’ back, how much he was nearly panting from hearin’ you spill out your desires to him. you leaned closer, nose to nose with him, as you finally delivered the last blow. “i want you to ruin me.”

and that was all it took.

the second those words left your lips, somethin’ in him snapped. quiet, sharp, final. like a tether givin’ way after bein’ pulled too damn tight for too long.

his hand let go of your wrists, and your arms dropped down without thinkin’, instinct takin’ over as you wrapped them around his neck, pullin’ him in like you couldn’t stand another inch of space between you.

he grabbed your waist, rough and certain, yankin’ you flush against him—no more games now, no more waitin’.

the kiss was messy, wild, needy. all tongue and teeth, breath and hunger. nothin’ soft about it. not anymore. it was everything you’d both been holdin’ back. it was like he was tryin’ to make up for every second he didn’t touch you, like he’d starved himself on purpose just to feel this kind of burn.

his fingers dug into your sides like he needed to feel all of you, ground himself in the heat of your body. and when your hands found his hair, tugged hard—he groaned against your mouth like it hurt good.

whatever restraint he had left?

it was gone.

and now… he was gonna make damn sure you meant every word you said.

his lips broke away from yours only to drag along your jaw, leavin’ hot, open-mouthed kisses as he made his way down to your neck, teeth grazin’ just enough to make you gasp.

and that sound—that sweet, desperate sound you made—only spurred him on. both of you were grindin’ on each other shamelessly, like wild animals in the dead of the night.

you clung to him tighter, fingers twisted in his hair, body archin’ into him without even thinkin’. your back hit the wall again, but this time you welcomed it—needed the support, needed him, pressin’ into every inch of you like he couldn’t get close enough.

he was mutterin’ now, words against your skin, voice low and frayed at the edges.

“look at you,” he breathed, mouth workin’ a mark into the crook of your neck. “ain’t so quiet now, huh?”

his hands were all over. rough palms slidin’ down your waist, over your hips, then back up under your shirt, callused fingertips draggin’ fire in their wake.

you could barely breathe, barely think.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, chest heaving, lips kiss-swollen, eyes dark as sin.

“you know,” he said, smirkin’ like he was still holdin’ the reins even now, “you coulda had this a long time ago… if you’d just asked real nice.”

you tried to snap back, but all that came out was a whimper—and that son of a gun—he laughed, low and breathless, like he loved seein’ you like this.

“that’s what i thought.”

his hand slid down to your waist, then lower, fingers pressin’ in sharp and sudden at the curve of your back, just enough to make you yelp.

“gotcha,” he muttered, grinnin’ against your mouth.

and before you could think, he was liftin’ you, hands strong under your thighs as your legs wrapped tight around his waist, your arms thrown over his shoulders, holdin’ on like he was the only thing keepin’ you upright.

you barely had time to let out a breath before he started walkin’, carryin’ you through the hallway like he’d done it a thousand times in his head.

you pressed your mouth to his neck—attacked him really—all teeth and heat and little gasps, bitin’ down hard enough to make him hiss, to leave something behind, proof you’d been there.

he chuckled, deep and low, like he liked the pain.

“feisty little thing tonight, ain’t ya?”

you didn’t answer. your mouth was too busy leavin’ more marks, claiming every inch of skin you could reach as he kicked open his bedroom door.

and the second you were inside?

he slammed it shut with his boot.

you were in his space now.

and there was no goin’ back.

p.s// i physically can’t write smut, i will be punished by lightning and my ancestors would send a demon to devour me so this is all we’re getting (sexual tension is already so hot to me actually it’s sooo delicious). also i’m sorry in advance if things are not so accurate, my only source is scrounging the internet for other cowboy fics and guides to the accent. hope everyone enjoys this as much as i enjoyed writing it!💗

[tenderbeck]

➵ 𓊆sʏʟᴜs ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴜᴛ𓊇

sloppy pussy eater Sylus 🔞

277 words

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Sylus ]

Sylus is an absolute mess between your legs—obsessed with your taste, your scent, the way you melt on his tongue. He devours you like he’s starving, savoring every drop, every moan.

He absolutely adores seeing you like this—legs spread wide, a breathtaking portrait of raw desire and aching need, laid out just for him. It just motivates him to keep going. Pushing you to the edge just to hear the pretty little sounds of pleasure and divinity coming out of you

It was heavenly, enchanting. Sublime. For the both of you.

Even after you’ve come undone, he doesn’t stop—driving wave after wave of pleasure through you until you’re trembling.

He lives for the sound of his name spilling from your lips, for the way your fingers tighten in his hair as he takes you apart again and again.

The way your core tightens around his tongue. Your back arching like a cat; your legs shaking around his shoulders.

Sylus keeps one of his hands on your hip to keep you in place.

“Stay still, kitten. I’m not done yet.”

Just when you think you can’t possibly take any more, Sylus pulls you right back to the edge—and unravels you all over again.

He drinks from your soaked pussy like it’s the fountain of youth, insatiable and devoted.

Every so often, he lifts his gaze to drink in the sight of you—lips parted, eyes glazed, body trembling—his masterpiece, painted in pleasure.

But it’s not about ego. No, Sylus does this for you. Your pleasure is his obsession, your satisfaction his biggest high.

Nothing turns him on more than making you feel like that.

[tenderbeck]

➵ 𓊆ʜᴇʀ𓊇

SimonexMC au! 🔞

9.4k words | 7 chapters 

TW for: drinking; harassment (chapter 3); explicit scenes!! super explicit sex scene in the 6th chapter

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Simone ]

Chapter 1

There she was. The mere sight of her ignited something in you. Something you couldn’t put your finger on, but something that you absolutely hated the feeling of. It was like a storm gathering behind your ribs - not thunderous, not violent, but a low, constant pressure that made it hard to breathe. Like the first few seconds before a nightmare begins, when everything still looks normal but your skin knows better. You didn’t want to look at her, but you couldn’t look away either.

Her presence crawled under your skin, familiar in the way a scar is familiar - something that shouldn’t be there, but is. She smiled, and it felt like someone had cracked open your chest and whispered secrets you didn’t want to remember. Whatever it was - disgust, anger, desire - it surged through you like electricity with nowhere to ground itself. And you stood there, blinking, wondering how someone could make you feel so much of something and still leave you feeling completely hollow.

Simone. 

“What a ridiculous name.”

You said to yourself, trying to diminish it, stepping on it, and squeezing it like it was nothing. You’d loathed her from the moment you first saw her - tall, almost statuesque, with that pale skin and jet-black hair that she always wore in a high ponytail like some tragic heroine out of a half-remembered myth. Her eyes, dark and disarming, carried just enough mischief to make you doubt every word she said. The perfect little nose, the soft flush of her lips like fresh blood on porcelain - it was infuriating how effortlessly put-together she was. Some fools could even describe her as a daydream wrapped in velvet.

She thought she was clever. Thought she was impressive because she once tinkered with your gear, boosted your weapon’s firing rate without permission, without even telling you first. Just to flaunt her micromodification Evol. Just to make you feel small. Typical Simone, always with that smug little smirk, like she was doing the world a favor by existing. But you weren’t some side character in her story. You were the hunter. You were the one with the edge. 

Every word she said grated your nerves. Every gesture, every complacent little glance - it was like a migraine enveloped in perfume. And you knew the feeling was mutual. The two of you: unwilling partners in proximity and barely masked contempt. 

You both worked at the Hunters Association. She used to be part of the UNICORNS’ Armament Tech Division until Captain Jenna pulled her onto the Special Operations Team, which meant more missions together, more planning, and more having to be in her despicable presence. Just your luck.

Everyone at the association knew you and Simone didn’t get along. It wasn’t exactly a secret. Anytime the two of you ended up on the same mission, the rest of the team got visibly tense - shoulders tightening, glances exchanged, the silent prayer that things wouldn’t spiral this time. Sure, on the surface, it was just harmless sniping. The occasional sarcastic jab, the eye rolls, the passive-aggressive commentary. But the real tension always surfaced when one of you dared to give the other an order. That’s when things got ugly. It didn’t matter that your specialties had almost nothing in common - she dealt in high-spec mod systems and tactical enhancements, while you specialized in front-line combat and threat analysis. She’d try to correct your dodging form mid-battle through your earpieces, like she was your instructor. You’d critique her latest equipment mod like you hadn’t seen it survive direct impact, or blast the whole head of a Wanderer hours earlier. Every time, the same result: sparks, raised voices, and a crowd of colleagues pretending not to listen while listening very intently.

No one could talk you two down once it started. No one except Captain Jenna. She’d warned you both more than once: “Keep your personal nonsense off the field.” And, frustrating as it was, you had to admit she had a point. On more than one mission, your bickering with Simone had almost cost the team everything. Like the protocore incident - the one you’d spent months tracking, the one that nearly got you obliterated because the two of you couldn’t agree on an extraction protocol. After that, you made a decision. Cold, clear, adult. You’d ignore Simone. Professionalism over pride. You were both grown-ups, after all. And in this line of work, ego was a luxury no one could afford.

Still… you couldn’t help it. There was something about the way her face twisted in irritation, how her lips pouted, when you didn’t react to her - something satisfying, almost addictive. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

Chapter 2

One night, after two relentless weeks of back-to-back missions and sleepless briefings, you and your colleagues finally called a truce with your exhaustion and decided to go out for drinks. It was a warm July evening - the kind that wraps around you like silk, made for something cold in your hands and music in your bones. Perfect weather for bar-hopping, dancing under neon lights, and forgetting, just for a moment, all your worries and anxieties.

You felt better than you had in ages. It had been too long since you’d seen yourself outside the confines of a hunter’s uniform or thin pajamas. That night, you wore the dress - the one you always saved for when you wanted to feel dangerous, when you wanted to feel like yourself but more. Light and flowing at the hem, but snug in all the right places, it moved with you like you and the dress were one. You’d almost forgotten the quiet pleasure of getting ready: the ritual of styling your hair, of lining your eyes with steady precision, of dancing barefoot in your apartment with music loud enough to drown out your thoughts. 

That night, you and Tara decided to pregame together, laughing over half-mixed drinks and bad playlist choices while you got dolled up, just to shake off the weight of the last few weeks. You weren’t shy about your intentions either. You were hoping - really hoping - you’d get lucky. That someone’s lips would find yours in the dark, that hands would wander in a way you’d missed more than you’d admit. And if not? Then at the very least, you’d dance until your feet hurt and laugh until your voice gave out.

But there was a catch. 

“Does she really have to go?”

You said to Tara while putting on your shoes as you were leaving, your voice in an almost weeping tone. Of course, Simone was invited. Everyone from your team had been as a celebration for completing your most recent mission, but you still didn’t want her to go. Why would someone who only tinkered with equipment need to tag along? It’s not like she was out there taking hits like you did. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the truth. Ever since Simone joined the team, things started running smoother, more efficiently, and with faster results, fewer close calls. Her presence, annoying as it was, made a measurable difference. She wasn’t just modifying gear, she was elevating the entire operation. Every adjustment she made, every update, somehow anticipated what the mission would demand before anyone else could see it coming. 

You hated that. You hated her. But you couldn’t deny it: Simone was essential. Whether you liked it or not, the team worked better with her on it. 

“Have you noticed how you’re constantly talking about Simone? I know you don’t like her, but it seems that there’s something more to it?”

Tara interrupted you mid-rant, just as you were going off, yet again, about how Simone tried to control you during the last mission. You froze, blinking at her, caught off guard. The look she gave you said it all. And suddenly, you felt your cheeks flush.

Wait. 

Were you really talking about Simone that often?

You scrambled for a defense, but it was hard to ignore the mounting evidence. You always had something to say about her - some new offence, some fresh irritation, and lately that had been almost every day. Apparently, you’d been airing your grievances on loop.

There was nothing you could say to get you out of it. Tara was right. You were always talking about that annoying colleague of yours.

“Truly, I have never seen someone talk that much about the person they despise.”

Tara was teasing you, giggling at your dumbfounded expression and at the red color that had appeared on your cheeks and ears.

“Don’t stress about it, I’m just joking. Remember, no one can ruin tonight for you. Not even Simone.”

Tara interlocked her arm with yours as you two stepped outside of your apartment building, feeling the warm breeze of the summer night.

“Yeah… no one can ruin tonight for me. Not even Simone.”

You repeated in your head over and over again until your ride arrived, trying to convince yourself. 

Chapter 3

(tw // this chapter contains harassment. although it’s lightly mentioned, take care of your mental health first! <3 )

You arrived downtown. The pregame definitely did its job, as you were feeling like a little butterfly roaming from flower to flower, catching the scent of summer air. 

The bars were packed. The music was loud, the dancefloor a chaotic harmony of friends and strangers dancing together. People were making out, leaving their sweat and saliva all over each other. Now and then, you would look around, appreciating the view you got from the bar stool. It was a mess, but you loved it. Everyone felt happy and free, and you could almost feel the same if it weren’t for your dear colleague Simone, who just sat at the bar, sipping her Bloody Mary while looking unfazed, bored almost. 

“What is her deal?”

You asked yourself. A part of you itched to walk over to Simone and tell her to just go home if she wasn’t going to enjoy herself. She sat there completely disengaged - no smile, no conversation, not even a nod to the rhythm of the music. Not a word to anyone on the team, not even her closest friends. But then you reminded yourself of what Tara said: “No one can ruin tonight for you. Not even Simone.”

You took a deep breath. Honestly, there was nothing you could do about it. Determined, you chugged the shot that was in your hand and walked over to the dance floor, meeting with Tara underneath the neon lights. You were tired of standing and staring. 

You were dancing around when Tara leaned in - practically shouting over the music - to stay where you were; she was just going to order another drink. And that you did. As your friend left, you continued to dance. You were used to your feet hurting from battle; if you spent the whole night dancing around, that would be nothing your feet couldn’t handle. And despite the countless mornings and late nights spent on missions, you had never felt so alive, so full of energy, as you did right now. No one could tell you were exhausted the day before, yes, the drinks did help, but it was more than that. It was as if you were being fed the energy of your surroundings, taking it all in by a feeding tube.

At that moment, you wanted to move - to dance and surrender to the rhythm of the music, letting it guide your body as if it were pulling the strings. Both your body and brain unbound and weightless, freer than ever before. Your mind began to wander, roaming freely into daydreams beyond the room you were in. You weren’t at the club dancing around anymore. You had travelled to some place else, quieter, softer, your bed or someone else’s. The place was gloomy; the curtains of the room were wide open, letting the milky, silvery moonlight in, illuminating everything it touched. You felt a soft but firm grip around you, squeezing all your good parts, pulling you even closer. Your lips were swollen, soaked from all the kisses you were receiving. The taste of black coffee lingering in your tongue. Your body, growing stiffer from the pleasure of just the two hands exploring it, travelling underneath your t-shirt, caressing your soft skin. Fingers rubbing your sensitive, pricked-up nipples. You were on edge, feeling so full but so empty at the same time. Your core longing to be touched; your underwear, drenched just from the aching of pleasure. It felt like a fire had been lit in your veins, but you couldn’t feel the burn. 

Accelerated breaths were exchanged, a mist of desire, hunger, and ache. A yearning for something you wish had been yours from the moment you laid your eyes on it, a forbidden dream you were restrained from fulfilling. The wet, sloppy kisses had travelled down your neck, deeply sucking it, leaving plum colored marks all over, as if your neck was their territory and they were claiming it. You couldn’t help yourself. At first, you let out muted, hushed whimpers, thinking how you couldn’t unravel that quickly, not yet. But you were growing more restless, more agitated by the second, your pussy tightning just by the softest of touches. Your inhales became sharper as if you were feeling pain instead of satisfaction, your whispered whimpers transformed into needy moans. More, you needed more.

 The bed covers, all mingled up on the floor, were an exact picture-perfect representation of you. Tangled, wrinkled, a warzone of soft cotton lines. The frustration in you only meant one thing: whoever was tracing your neck veins with their tongue needed to move a couple of floors below rapidly. 

“Please…”

You said, almost breathless. Biting your lips, you looked up at the person on top of you. Pitch-dark hair greeted you, covering their face. From that void of hair, you heard a provoking laugh, poking fun at your neediness and exasperation.

“Oh, you know I love it when you beg for me.”

That voice, so familiar but so foreign. Where had you heard it? 

“But before I place my mouth between your legs, I want to look at that gorgeous, uneasy expression of yours.”

They lifted the hair off their face in one swoop. A breeze of cedarwood, jasmine, and soft leather, with a hint of icy mint, traveled through your nose all the way to your lungs, as if it helped you breathe better. This was your favorite scent in the whole world; it reminded you of a quiet morning air, glimmering with residual rain from the night before. The whisper of her winter coat just removed, revealing the warmth underneath. A meeting overflowing with tension and trust in equal measure. The scent doesn’t shout; it lingers - clean but complex. Like her. 

When you opened your eyes, you saw the dark, long hair falling perfectly below her shoulders. The smooth skin, as if it had never been touched by the evil the world has to offer. Her symmetrical features, sharp but gentle eyes that could see right through you, like they could reach your mind and know exactly what you were thinking. You hesitated for a moment, jolting right up.

“Simone?”

Suddenly, you were taken away from dreamland as you heard a distant “ouch!” You looked up and staring back at you was a tall, broad-shouldered man. He stood like a wall - solid, imposing, with muscles that strained slightly under the sleeves of his t-shirt. Buzzed hair, but the type you could see he only had this hairstyle, so he didn’t have to do his hair every morning. His dark eyes were sharp but unreadable, and a faint shadow of stubble lined his strong jaw, giving him a rugged, almost intimidating edge.

You launched into a flurry of apologies, likely coming off as completely unhinged - especially since everyone else around you kept dancing, oblivious, while you stumbled over your words to a man who looked like he could rip your foot clean off if he felt like it. Yet despite his intimidating appearance, he didn’t look angry - just amazed… a little amused.

“Don’t worry about it. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen in the middle of this chaos.”

The guy said to you, a shy smile on his face. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders - the pain in the man’s foot vanished as suddenly as it had come, and he didn’t seem even the slightest bit bothered.

“Did you come here by yourself?”

He asked, his voice laced with concern, or what he tried to sound like concern. Wanting to transmit the fact that the thought of a young woman coming to a club alone, dancing by herself in a place full of potential risks, unsettled him. You found it unsettling how a complete stranger would be so worried about this; it raised some sirens in you, and you didn’t like the sound of it, not one bit. Thankfully, you weren’t alone, not like you would ever go dance at a club all by yourself. To appease the man, so maybe he would leave you alone, you started to point out where your peers were.

“Nah, I’m here with my colleagues. Some are over there at the bar and-”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes locked with Simone’s. Had she been watching you this whole time? The intensity in her gaze hit you like a wave - unblinking, electric, charged with something between desire and challenge. There was a hunger in her eyes, sharp and unapologetic, as if she were ready to devour you right there on the dance floor. Your face flushed, remembering the filthy thoughts that consumed your mind just a couple of seconds ago. It sent a jolt through your spine, and you had to look away, your pulse quickening. “Not now, Simone. Not tonight,” you thought, turning your attention back to what you were saying, trying to drown out everything she made you feel.

“And some must be enjoying themselves elsewhere. I was dancing with a friend, she just went to grab a drink.”

You continued, trying to maintain your composure. Until suddenly, you felt a strong arm creeping its way around your waist. You froze. The man abruptly pulled you closer to his massive body, almost making you trip with the force he used. The air grew thicker as all you could smell at this moment was his cigar breath and the sweat coming from every orifice of his body. Your mind went numb, unable to accept what was happening. The man wanted you to dance with him, specifically, he wanted you to dance as close as possible with him, as if you were connected by glue. 

“C’mon, pretty thing. It’s only fair after you almost destroyed my foot.”

A repulsive smirk formed on his face, contorting it. You looked up at him, eyes wide open. “So this was his intention from the start.” Your mind was running in circles. Everything around you was a blur, the music now muffled. 

*Tun-tun. Tun-tun.*

Your heart felt like it was beating in your mouth, your lungs forgetting how to fill in with air. You just wanted it to stop, for him to stop. This was not how your night was supposed to go. 

“Why? Why do men always have to ruin everything? This was supposed to be a fun night out. Why?” Your eyes were welling up, but you didn’t want to show that bastard how he was making you feel. How he was making you feel weak, powerless, and stuck. You lowered your eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t notice the tears starting to fall down your cheeks one by one. Somehow, you felt disappointed in yourself. You saved people for a living, but when it was time to save yourself, you were incapable of such. 

You were doing your best to push the man away without causing a scene; the last thing you needed right now was to draw more unwanted attention to yourself. But the man was strong and unwilling to let you go. He pulled you closer, using more force this time. You were starting to feel sick, like your organs were contorting inside of you, fighting for a way out. 

“What’s wrong, sugar? Don’t you wanna dance a little with me?”

The man waited for you to reply, but soon realized you weren’t going to give him what he wanted. He huffed and clicked his tongue like an angry beast, dissatisfied by your lack of response. As he was about to open his mouth again to say something, you heard a voice coming from behind you. It startled you at first, even so, amidst all the muted sounds that surrounded you, this voice was like seeing the sun making its way through the fog on a cold winter day, giving you the warmth you so wished for. 

“And what makes you think she’d want to dance with someone like you?”

You turned around. Simone was right behind you, looking at the man with razor-sharp eyes that could well enough cut anything she set her sight on. She spoke with not only disgust but with a mocking tone that you knew way too well. Her stance was firm, jaw clenched, arms crossed in front of her. Simone didn’t break eye contact with him; the man incited no threat to her. Simone looked like she would start a fight if need be, but she would also make sure she would be the one to finish it.

The air around her seemed to grow colder, tighter - as if the space itself had decided to listen.

“You think you own the place and do whatever you want to whoever you want?”

Simone stepped forward, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between you. The club lights enveloped her just right, casting shadows across her sculpted frame - she looked like a dark, fallen angel summoned from fire and smoke. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Mesmerized, you watched her, every movement pulling you deeper under your spell. 

Completely entranced by Simone, you didn’t register her hand gripping your arm, pulling you away from the grotesque creature who dared to think he could claim you. And it was in that moment - swept into her orbit, away from everything vile - that you understood one thing with absolute clarity: you would never belong to anyone. 

Unless it was her.

Simone.

Chapter 4

Before the man could even think to speak again, Simone had already seized your arm, pulling you away. Without so much as a glance back at you, she quickened her pace, carving a path through the crowd as she led you out of the bar.

Everything was happening so fast, you barely processed what had just occurred when the sharp sting of the night wind hit your face. It was as if the cold air snapped you back into reality - a reality you hadn’t even realized you’d slipped away from. Your heart was racing, your thoughts a blur, and for a moment, you stood there blinking, trying to piece together all that had happened in the last five minutes.

“Here, take this.”

Simone said as she draped her jacket over your shoulders. You were too stunned to respond; the words caught somewhere between your breath and disbelief. The adrenaline still coursing through you had masked the cold - until clarity returned, and with it, the sudden realization that you were shivering. Wrapping yourself in Simone’s jacket, enveloping yourself in her scent that you yearned for so long, the two of you started walking down the street, far away from the noise and disorder of a mid-summer night.

You two might have been walking no more than two minutes when suddenly Simone broke the silence. 

“Hey, are you ok? He was just a jerk, don’t let him bother you too much. He’s just a lonely nobody.”

Simone’s words were colder than the night air, yet her voice carried a smooth, velvet calm you’d never hear from her before. Your eyes lifted slowly from the ground to meet hers. For the first time, you realized her eyes weren’t the solid black you had always assumed. Now, in this light, you saw the shifting shades of grey - like a fog-drapped midnight sky. Not clear enough to reveal the stars, but just enough to hint at their presence, always there, quietly watching over you.

She carried a worried expression in them, grave and heavy. Your gaze shifted between her left eye and right, the stars within them gradually becoming brighter, shimmering into clarity. You could lose yourself in Simone’s eyes for eternity, and even if the world crumbled into flames around you, not even then would you dare to look away. 

You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until you tried to answer Simone - but the air in your lungs came up short. A burning sting crept into your eyes, and tears began to fall, slow and steady, like a sorrowful river with no direction. Then, in an instant, the dam broke. You collapsed to your knees, your legs no longer strong enough to hold you. And like a dance she knew by heart, Simone moved with you, instinctively dropping to the ground beside you, as if afraid you might shatter when you hit the ground like thin glass. Though you were already down, she reached for your arm - not to stop you from sinking further, but perhaps to remind you that you weren’t alone. That if you were going to fall, she would fall with you. 

Your muffled cries soon unraveled into ragged, anguished sobs - each one piercing through Simone’s heart like a blade from the sharpest sword. Her chest tightened at the sound, and tears welled in her eyes, unbidden, as though your pain had somehow become hers too. Without hesitation, she sank to her knees beside you, her movements gentle and instinctive. Slowly, she began to stroke your back, as if her touch might soothe you, as if - somehow - it could pull the pain from your body like a whispered spell.

“I’ve never felt so… so helpless in my entire life!”

You choked out between gasps, your voice breaking, drowning in the weight of your own despair, the world devouring you whole like a merciless sea. You were sinking - no raft, no breath, only the crushing tide of your own thoughts. 

“My job is to fight Wanderers… to protect Linkon City… but how can I call myself a hunter when I can’t even protect myself from one person?! I’m… I’m pathetic!”

You tried to pull yourself together, but the harder you fought to contain the tears, the more violently they surged. 

Beneath it all, you had never felt enough. Not at the Hunter’s Academy. Not as a rookie. And even now - as a member of the most elite, respected team of hunters in all of Linkon City - you still carried that same gnawing doubt. There was always someone stronger. Smarter. Faster.

You had worked relentlessly to protect the city, to protect the people you loved. Tonight should have been a moment of quiet pride - one where, for once, you could feel like an equal. But something, someone, had to take that away from you. Had to cut the invisible thread that had been holding you together, and now you were breaking right in front of the last person you ever wanted to see you like this.

Around Simone, you always wore a mask. You pretended to be strong - or at least stronger than you believed you were - because no one respects the weak. And Simone? She could never know just how fragile you felt. No matter how hard you trained, how skilled you’d become, you always made sure to show off in combat, ever since she joined the team. Because deep down, you wanted to be her protector. Not just a hunter of Linkon City, but her hunter. Someone she could trust. Someone she could feel safe with. The one she’d turn to - not just in battle but in fear, in need. But the more you trained, the harder you pushed, the more hollow you felt. Why would Simone ever choose you for protection when there were others - stronger, faster, more capable? Especially the male hunters. They had the power you lacked. The presence you wished you had. Still, something inside you refused to give up. Some stubborn flicker that kept telling you to keep going. Train harder. Fight longer. Grow stronger. For her.

And yet, here you were - feeling utterly worthless. Lost. The truth was, Simone didn’t need you. She didn’t need anyone. She could protect herself. All you ever seemed to do was watch from the sidelines as she praised others after each mission, her cold gaze barely settling on you. Just a glance. Maybe she was wondering why you were even a hunter in the first place. Maybe that’s why she kept upgrading your gear - because she didn’t trust you to survive without it. Because you were the weak link.

“What are you even saying? You? Pathetic?”

Simone let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“God, even when you’re falling apart, you manage to amuse me.”

Her hand never left your back, a steady warmth grounding you. You slowly lifted your face from your hands, eyes searching hers in disbelief. Had you accidentally said something absurd, or was this just Simone being Simone - mocking you at your lowest?

But then she met your gaze, and her expression softened. A faint, sincere smile curved her lips as she moved her hands to your shoulders, gently but firmly, as if she feared you might vanish if she let go. 

“I… I don’t understand what’s so funny…”

Your voice was barely a whisper, fragile and trembling on the edge of silence. 

“Really?”

She said, her tone laced with disbelief. 

“You actually think you’re pathetic? All because of one misstep? You are - without a doubt - the strongest, most talented hunter I’ve ever known. You’re brave, selfless, always putting others first, even if it means putting yourself in danger. Honestly, it drives me insane how reckless you are… but it’s the kind of reckless I admire - the kind this city needs. I wish more hunters were like you.

Her grip on your shoulders tightened, not out of force, but from the weight of her emotions. And just like that, your cheeks flared with heat, a blush spreading from your ears to your chest. You felt butterflies all around your heart, trapping it, making it beat faster and faster. It was almost surreal, like your brain had misheard her - surely she couldn’t be talking about you.

“If I’m really as great as you say I am… then why do you keep upgrading my gear without telling me?”

You swallowed hard, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

“Obviously, it’s because I’m not good enough without it.”

Simone stared at you for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then, she burst into laughter - a rich, unrestrained sound that made your heart ache in the best way. She was teasing, of course. But still… her laughter felt like music. Like the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. Simone composed herself, locking eyes with you once more - this time, more intensely, as though her eyes were trying to reach deep into your soul, to mutter to you a secret meant only for you, and hide it away with you inside her heart’s treasure chest. 

She leaned in until your noses nearly brushed. Your breathing, finally steadying, fell in sync with hers. A pressure built in your head, your heartbeat thudding in your ears, drowning out the world. The rhythm of it, blended with Simone’s honeyed voice, became a lullaby meant only for you. It made you uneasy, off-balance,  but you were utterly enraptured. 

“I only did that because… if anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

She whispered it, soft and sacred. Her voice belonged only to you in that moment. She wasn’t speaking for anyone else - only you were meant to hear these words.

“You’re fearless, yeah… but sometimes you don’t know where fearless ends and reckless begins. I see how you throw yourself into every battle. And sure, other hunters are with you, but they’re all too busy saving their own asses. No one’s watching your back, at least not the way they should. So I had to step in. But I couldn’t get close to you…”

Now your foreheads touched. The gentle press of her skin against yours sent a shiver through your spine, flooding your body with warmth. 

“All I ever wanted was to be near you… But I know I can come off as a bitch sometimes. When we first met, I was so nervous I completely blew it. I tried to impress you - showed off what I could do with your hunter gear - hoping you’d notice me. But I know I just came off cold and cocky. And then…”

Simone paused, taking a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her shoulders were tight with tension. This - finally opening up to you without argument or sarcasm - was harder than facing any Wanderer. 

“And then you hated me. I could tell. I saw it in your eyes every time I touched your equipment. Every time I entered the room. But I’d rather have you mad at me and be safe than you going to the ER after every mission. I started getting frustrated - not at you, but at myself. I couldn’t get close to you. Couldn’t get you to look at me without that aversion in your eyes. So I thought… maybe if I pushed you further, made you hate me more, I could start to hate you as well. Because wanting someone you can’t have… it eats you alive.”

Her voice cracked slightly. A sob was forming in your throat, thick and impossible to swallow. Tears streamed down your face once more, unstoppable. You were overwhelmed - lost in the flood of emotion. Your thoughts spun in frantic circles, offering no clarity, only chaos. 

“Every morning, I told myself it would be different. That I’d stop feeling this way. But every time I looked at you, the feelings only grew. It drove me insane how much I liked you. I became selfish. I wanted you all to myself. Seeing you talk to the others sparked a jealousy in me I didn’t know I could feel. That’s why I kept upgrading your gear behind your back. If no one else was going to protect you, I would. Even if you never wanted to look at me again, even if you couldn’t stand to be near me - I had to make sure you were safe. Because I can live in a world where you hate me. But I can’t live in one without you.”

Simone stopped. Her breath came in heavy, uneven waves - revealing everything she felt had taken more strength than anything she’d ever faced before. You had never seen her like this. Vulnerable. Exposed. Simone, who always wore confidence like armor, who never lets anyone completely in. She was a door left ajar, but impossible to walk through. Yes, she had friends at the association, shared jokes and stories like everyone else. But even in a room full of people, Simone always seemed distant - like part of her was somewhere far away. Detached. Guarded. 

You didn’t interrupt her once. Just listened, heart pounding in your ears, as she laid herself bare in front of you. Every word hit you with force. And as they settled inside you, you felt your throat tighten, your chest ache. For months, you had convinced yourself that Simone was arrogant, unbearable - that she looked down on you. That belief had been your excuse. The reason you never dared to be honest, never let yourself dream of something more. You told yourself it could never happen.

You could never happen with her.

But every sleepless night said otherwise. You’d lie awake, tossing and turning in bed, wrestling with your thoughts, wishing - desperately - that you had the guts to talk to her like it was as easy as breathing. Wishing you could grab a coffee after a day of work. Go to the park on your days off. Call her late at night after a bad day. Invite her out to dinner. Cook with her, for her. Anything just to be near her, to share something real.

You longed for her in silence. Wished to hold her, to kiss her, to fall asleep beside her. To wake up next to her each morning, with her beautiful, angelic face being the first thing your eyes meet - that was the dream. To rise with her scent still clinging to the sheets, filling your lungs more completely than air ever could. To hear her sleepy murmur of “good morning,” her voice soft and husky with sleep, as she lazily brushes the hair from her face just to lean in and kiss you. 

To close whatever distance existed between you until you weren’t just near her - you were part of her, and she, part of you. 

Now, Simone’s words echoed in your mind, looping endlessly: “I wanted you all to myself.” That confession carved itself into your memory like a vow. It would never leave you. 

Chapter 5

You lifted your head, gently breaking the contact of your foreheads. Slowly, your hands rose, cupping her face with reverence, as if she might shatter. Simone wasn’t crying like you were - but the emotion in her eyes was unmistakable, rising like a tide, trembling at the edges. You had so much in your mind, so many things you wanted to say to her, but unable to find the right words.

Without a second thought, you tilted her chin upward, guiding Simone’s gaze to meet yours. Then you closed your eyes, leaned in, and kissed her - softly at first, reverent, aching. Your tears made a path to where your lips met, letting their presence be known with a salty imprint. Almost instantly, Simone’s hands found your face, clutching it as if anchoring herself to you, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Time blurred - seconds stretched into eternity. And even when your lips finally parted, you stayed close, mouths just a breath apart, unwilling to forget the feeling.

Then, as if on cue, the two of you leaned in again - this time with urgency, with hunger. The kiss turned ravenous, possessive. Your tongue travelled to the inside of Simone’s mouth, exploring, memorizing, and claiming every inch. The feeling of her tongue against yours was intoxicating, like ecstasy in a shot glass. You were lost in her, and you didn’t care to be found. This was where you belonged.

Wet, messy sounds filled the air - sloppy kisses, breathy moans slipping through fevered lips. Your left hand gripped the back of her head tightly, holding her to you as if daring her to ever pull away. Desire and longing coursed through you like wildfire - hot, consuming, alive. It rushed to your brain, crashed through your heart, and pulsed between your legs. God, she tasted divine - so much better than anything your imagination had dared to conjure.

After breaking the kiss, both of you panting but still not fully satisfied, aching for more. A string of saliva was the only proof of what had happened. You clung to her neck, not ever wanting to be in a situation where you weren’t making physical contact with her. Leaving soft kisses all over, as a thank you for letting you kiss her.  Simone let out a soft whimper, amusement scratching her throat. 

“You’re a feisty one, huh?”

She pulled you away from her neck only to kiss you again. A delicate peck that would linger as much as her tongue. Her lips. So soft and warm.

Her lips.

That touched you. Letting you savor them for as long as you wanted, for as long as you needed. 

“Hey, we’re both pretty tired. Come spend the night at my place, it’s just around the corner.”

You looked at her, eyes heavy with desire, tracing every curve and contour of her face - committing her to memory like a masterpiece you’d never risk forgetting. You bit your lip and nodded. Honestly, it didn’t matter where Simone took you to spend the night. As long as you were with her, nothing else mattered.

Chapter 6

You two entered Simone’s building hand in hand. Feeling like two silly teenagers in love, stealing kisses and giggling while waiting for the elevator. When you got to her apartment door, stepping in was like entering paradise. As you took off your shoes, you tried to take in as much as you could. The apartment was a personification of Simone herself. The dark wood flooring, the neutral color schemes with greens, browns, and silvers here and there. The sophisticated scent of leather and vanilla. Provocative but comforting at the same time. But your time admiring Simone’s place was cut short as she took your hand and guided you to her room.

You sat on her bed. The world around you was quiet except for the sound of your breathing - shallow, uncertain - as Simone sat next to you. The air between you two was electric, charged with everything you’d both kept buried for too long. Her eyes searched yours, her fingers brushed your cheek, light as a whisper, and you leaned into her touch like it was the only thing grounding you. Her lips found yours, but this time it wasn’t rushed - it was careful. You kissed her back, slow and deep, pouring every unsaid word, every sleepless night, into the press of your mouths. You could feel Simone trembling slightly beneath her composure, and that vulnerability only made your desire burn hotter.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to if you don’t want.”

Simone said, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were full of worry, scared that you might reject her, after she spilled everything in front of you. She needed to be sure you wanted her as much as she wanted you. She wouldn’t go any further if not. 

“Simone, I’m sure. I want this… I want you.”

Lips met teeth and tongue. Though desire was burning between you, this kiss transcended hunger. It reached beyond lust, beyond the ache of need you both had carried for so long. It was tender, yet full of fire - a slow, deliberate communion between two souls who had silently promised never to part. In that kiss, you told Simone everything your words never could - that it had always been her. From the very beginning. That no one else would ever hold this place in your heart. The idea of loving anyone else felt impossible, absurd even. Your mind couldn’t even begin to imagine a future that didn’t have her in it - because with Simone, you weren’t just whole. You were home.

By the time her hands slipped beneath your shirt, your skin was already aflame, aching for her. Simone hovered above you, her breath hot against your neck, her hands exploring your body with the kind of hunger that comes from years of restraint. Every kiss she pressed to your skin was a confession - soft at first, then deeper, more desperate. Her mouth moved from your collarbone to your chest, worshipping you with slow, deliberate care, as if she was learning you by heart. The way she looked at you - lids low, pupils blown wide - made her entire body ache. There was nothing hurried about her. She wanted you to unravel beneath her touch, to make you tremble from the inside out. 

You reached for her, pulling her closer until your bodies were flush, heat meeting heat. Your fingers threaded into her hair, your back arching as her hips found yours in a rhythm that made it impossible to breathe. Every movement was raw and fluid, a silent exchange of every word you were yet to say to one another. Her name fell from your lips like a plea, and she answered it with a kiss that stole every last coherent thought from your mind. The world outside disappeared. There was only Simone - her scent, her skin, her voice in your ear whispering how much she wanted you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. You gave yourself to her completely, and she took you in like a promise she had waited her whole life to keep.

Somehow, without either of you realizing, your clothes had found the floor. The bed was already a tangled mess of sheets and heat - and the night was only just beginning. Your legs tangled with hers as the rhythm between you built slowly, deliciously, until even your bones felt molten. Her name spilled from your lips again, softer this time, threaded with worship. Simone met your gaze in the dim light - eyes dark and tender, her expression cracked wide open with emotion. She touched her forehead to yours, her fingers travelling up and down your ribs.

Simone’s hand found its way between your thighs with a slow, deliberate tenderness, her touch light at first - teasing. You gasped, hips instinctively arching into her, craving more of her, craving all of her. She kissed you again, slower this time, as if trying to anchor both of you in the moment. Then, without a warning, her fingers slid inside you.

Your breath caught, your hands tightening around her shoulders, grounding yourself in the only thing that felt real - her. She moved with a kind of knowing, like she’d memorized you long before this moment ever arrived. Every movement was purposeful, coaxing more out of you, building you up with each slow curl, each gentle thrust. You moaned her name like it was the only word you remembered, your body trembling as pleasure bloomed in waves beneath her touch. She never looked away - not once - as if she was watching every flicker of your expression, chasing every reaction you gave her. You swayed your hips, making Simone’s fingers dig deeper and deeper inside you. Gentle cries left you when Simone lowered her head to meet your pussy. Slowly kissing your clit at first gradually becoming more ravenous, more possessive, sucking on your most sensative spot. She looked up at you - eyes locked - your breath hitched at the sheer intensity of her gaze. You were seeing stars, unable to control the loud moans that escaped from you as Simone played with your pussy like it was her favorite toy. Her movements sped up as if hearing you getting lost in desire was only fueling her more. 

You were reaching the edge. You knew it. Simone knew it. You were trying to hang on for as long as possible, wanting this moment to last forever, but Simone’s deep moans resounding against your entrance were making it harder to focus. 

“Simone I…I’m so close…”

You could barely utter a word. Your mind all scrambled from the pleasure dancing inside your body. She didn’t stop, she wasn’t going to until you came all over her fingers and mouth. 

Your core tightened around her, legs shaking uncontrollably. Your moans were growing more high-pitched by the second. Your body desperate, begging for release. And so, while still holding Simone’s face between your legs, you came. Your climax hit in waves, each one more intense than the last, making your back arch off the bed. Simone didn’t let up - her tongue relentless, her right hand gripping your thigh to keep you open, exposed, all for her. You were trembling, gasping, the room echoing with the wet sounds of her mouth and your breathless cries. Even as your orgasm pulsed through you, she kept going, drawing every last drop of pleasure from your hypersensitive body until you were twitching and whimpering, overwhelmed and drenched.

Simone only raised her head after making sure none of your juices went to waste. You were both panting. Stretching out your arms, you reached for her, pulling her into a deep kiss. You lifted your back from the pillows, turning both of your bodies so you switched positions. You felt powerful as you looked down at Simone, a goddess underneath you. Your pussy was still throbbing from Simone’s little play time but you were impatient. You wanted to return the favor. 

“My turn!”

You said in a teasing tone, making your way down between Simone’s legs. This was heaven to you. Having Simone submit to you, giving her the pleasure you knew no one else could, was your high. 

Simone leaned back against the pillows, still trying to calm her breath, her fingers threading through your hair as you kissed slowly down her stomach. Her skin was warm beneath your lips, her body humming with anticipation. You moved with intention, your kisses turning softer, slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the privilege of worshiping her this way. Every inch of her skin felt sacred, and you treated her like a secret you were finally allowed to uncover. 

She let out a soft, trembling sound as your mouth reached her inner thigh, her hips twitching under your touch. There was no hesitation in you, no shyness. Just want. Just the overwhelming need to please her, to make her feel the way she made you feel: seen, wanted, undone. Your mouth met her heat with devotion. Simone’s fingers tightened in your hair as her head tilted back, a moan slipping from her lips. You moved slowly, teasing her, learning what made her gasp, what made her breath shudder. Every movement of your tongue was purposeful, attuned to her reactions, guided by the soft, broken whispers of your name spilling from her mouth. You wanted her to feel everything. You wanted her to fall apart with your name on her lips. 

And when she did - hips trembling, voice cracking, fingers gripping you like she never wanted to let go - you held her through it, proud and breathless, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Your bodies were slick with sweat and arousal, thighs trembling, breaths short and uneven. You shifted positions again, legs tangled, slick folds still pulsing from the last crest. But instead of diving back into motion, Simone paused, her hands settling on either side of your face. Her eyes searched yours - dark, dilated, tender in a way that made your chest ache.

Then she kissed you. Not rushed. Not wild. Just deep, and slow, and intoxicating. 

Her tongue slid against yours like she had all the time in the world, like your mouth was the only thing she ever wanted to taste. Your fingers curled into her hair, pulling her closer, kissing her back with the same aching hunger. It was all lips and breath and soft moans shared between teeth. Her hips rolled once, lazily, just enough to keep your bodies connected, your wetness smearing together, but it was the kiss that took over now. 

Your legs stayed wrapped around her waist, holding her there, chest to chest, heart to heart. Each kiss seemed to say what words couldn’t. Her hand cradled your cheek like you were fragile, sacred even, while the other slid slowly down your side, reacquainting itself with the shape of your waist, the curve of your thigh, the wet heat between your legs.

You whimpered into her mouth as she pressed her hips into yours again - slower this time, like she was savoring every second. 

“I could kiss you forever.”

She murmured against your lips, breathless.

“Then do it.”

You whispered back, your fingers tightening on her shoulders. And so she did. 

And as her kiss deepened again, her body began to move with yours - slow, grinding, sensual - your moans swallowed between shared breaths, both of you lost in that quiet molten space where kissing became more once again.

Simone straddled your thigh as you slid your leg between hers, both of you already soaking with need. The moment your cores met, it was intoxicating - hot, wet, and pulsing. You gasped as her folds pressed against yours, the friction immediate and overwhelming. You adjusted your angle, wrapping your leg tighter around her hip as your pelvis tilted, your clit catching perfectly agaisnt hers. Simone let out a ragged moan, her fingers digging into your waist as she began to grind - slow at first, deliberate, savoring the pressure. The wet slide of your pussies rubbing together filled the room, your bodies glistening with sweat and arousal. Her breasts bounced slightly with each thrust, her nipples flushed and hard as your rhythm grew faster, more desperate. You could feel her heartbeat through her skin, her breath hot on your neck as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing your jaw, whispering your name like a plea. Your thighs trembled with the strain, but neither of you slowed. The friction was exquisite - your clits grinding, swollen and aching, catching just right on each pass. Simone let out a shuddering cry as your hips locked together in perfect rhythm, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’m so close.”

She gasped, her voice breaking. 

“Me too.”

You whimpered, barely holding yourself together. 

Your movements turned frantic - hips rolling, pelvises slapping wetly, clits swollen and throbbing as the orgasm coiled tight in your belly. You grabbed her ass, pulling her harder into you, grinding faster, chasing that final snap.

Then it hit - you came hard, a guttural cry ripping from your throat as your pussy clenched and pulsed agaisnt hers, the orgasm tearing through you in wave after wave. Simone followed almost instantly, her entire body shaking as she came with you, her moans high and helpless, hips jerking as pleasure ripped her open.

You clung to each other as your bodies spasmed together, riding out the blinding high until you collapsed into a sweaty, tangled mess. Thighs sticky and trembling, your pulses finally slowing as you exhaled into the silence.

Chapter 7

For a moment, neither of you moved - just the soft sound of your breathing, your chests rising and falling in unison, bodies still pressed together, glistening with sweat and slick. Simone’s forehead rested against yours, her fingers trailing softly over your hip, tracing gentle, lazy circles. The wild urgency from earlier was gone, replaced by a quiet, glowing tenderness.

“You okay?”

She whispered, her voice hoarse but warm. 

You nodded, eyes closed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Better than okay.”

Simone kissed you then - slow, unhurried, full of affection. Nothing demanding. Just lips on lips, soft and grounding. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your jaw. It made your heart ache in the best way. She eased you back onto the bed, pulling the covers over your still-bare bodies, tucking them around you like a shield from the world. One of her legs stayed tangled with yours, skin to skin, the closeness more intimate than the sex had been.

“You are beautiful.”

You murmured, nuzzling in the crook of her neck. 

“Even when I’m a sweaty mess?”

Simone said, teasingly. Her fingers slowly caressing your arm.

“Yes, even when you’re a sweaty mess. In my eyes, you’re all soft and warm and glowing. The perfect muse.”

You meant every word. To you, it didn’t matter whether Simone was perfectly made up or a breathless, sweaty mess - you saw beauty in her. Unwavering, effortless. Simone turned onto her side to face you, her eyes tracing the contours of your face, drinking in every detail like it was art carved just for her.

“You’re beautiful.”

She hummed, threading her fingers through your hair.

“You’re beautiful and you make me feel safe, Miss Hunter.”

You tightened your arms around her slightly.

“Good. Because I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

You spoke as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the fresh air from the open window fill your lungs. Your body sinking deeper into the mattress, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a sense of calm washed over you. And you felt at home.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m not going anywhere either. I gotta look after my hunter and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid while fighting.”

The two of you laughed, lying in bed, hearts slowly beating together. Your fingers gently playing along her back while her breath puffed softly against your skin. The room smelled of sex, sweat, and lavender, and you felt… full. Not just physically. Full of her. Of what she made you feel. 

And in that quiet, moonlit moment, nothing else mattered. 

[tenderbeck]

𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯?

[tenderbeck]

➵ 𓊆ᴅʀɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ɪɴsᴀɴᴇ𓊇

biker sylus au! 🔞

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Sylus ]

Sylus stopped the bike. As we stepped out of it, the two of us stood on a viewpoint, surrounded by nature, a slight mist enveloping us. In front of us was nothing more than the N109 Zone. We could see all of it. From afar, the dangerous and vile city looked like a dream suspended in neon and fog. The towering skyscrapers didn’t look as intimidating; their facades reflected electric hues of magenta, violet, and icy blue from their digital billboards. Although futuristic, the colors (that I had never paid too much attention to) gave it a sense of belonging.

Since our arrival, Sylus and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other. Around us, not a single sound could be heard from being in the middle of nowhere. I was so lured by the view that I didn’t notice that Sylus had positioned himself behind me. It was only when he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him, that I woke up from my trance.

“It’s beautiful, Sylus.”

I said, my voice nothing more than a whisper. Sylus was now hugging me tightly as we both looked at the scene in front of us. His body was practically glued to mine. I could feel him - all of him. I was doomed. All I could do was pray that Sylus would not notice how tense my body had gotten. But nothing. We stayed still, in silence, for what felt like hours. 

Suddenly, Sylus shifted his weight, closing even more the small space between us. 

“Are you ok? You’re holding your breath, sweetie.”

I didn’t even notice I was doing so. I guess I did it subconsciously to stop my breathing from shaking. Oh, I was so doomed.

“I am? I… I didn’t notice… I guess the scenery took my breath away, literally.”

I said with a nervous laugh, now turning to face him and taking his arm off me. There was nothing else in this world that I wanted more than to keep his big, strong arms around me for eternity, but I needed to control myself. 

Sylus looked at me with a puzzled look. Moving closer to me, every step he took resounded in my mind. My eyes were locked on his, and I couldn’t look away. He had imprisoned me with those beautiful red eyes, shining like rubies. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, breaking every bone, ripping muscle, and skin to reach the outside. I took a step back, but the cold metal barrier of the viewpoint kept me from going further. 

Sylus was now one breath away from me. Our noses gently touching. Without warning, his lips touched mine - fierce and urgent. The tip of his tongue slipped past my lips, tasting, claiming, exploring me with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. I gave in instantly, melting into his embrace. My hands rose to cradle his face, fingertips grazing his jaw as I pulled him harder against me, needing him closer. His mouth moved against mine like he was trying to memorize every shape, every reaction, every moan that escaped me. My back arched into him, my body instinctively answering the rhythm of his, and for a moment, the world around us disappeared - nothing but lips, teeth, tongue, and the unspoken lust that trembled between us, in us. 

Sylus was the one who broke the kiss. Strings of our mixed saliva connected our mouths, the aftermath of our passion still clinging to us like a secret we weren’t ready to let go of. His forehead rested against mine, our breaths shallow and tangled, chests rising and falling in sync as if our bodies hadn’t yet realized the kiss had ended. 

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?”

I looked at him, puzzled, unable to say a word. I was defenseless, my brain scrambling for something to say back, but to no avail. I got caught.

“You don’t think I know you well enough to sense when your body shifts, kitten? I must admit, I was not expecting you to get this needy so quickly. I didn’t even have time to tease you, to make your legs shake.”

He gave me a little kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, searched mine with a heat that hadn’t faded - if anything, it had only deepened. One of his hands stayed firm on my waist, thumb grazing the bare skin under my shirt, possessive and tender all at once. The other trailed slowly up my spine, drawing a shiver that made me lean in again, instinctively, helplessly. 

“I want more.”

I murmured, the words barely brushing his lips. His mouth curled in satisfaction. One of my hands travelled to the back of his head, slowly stroking his soft silver locks. Softly, I pushed his head back, giving myself enough space to make my way to his neck. Sylus was getting sensitive. With each mark I left on his neck, a faint groan left him, displaying pleasure shamelessly. My tongue traced wet lines along his neck all the way to his earlobe. There, I bit it with just enough pressure to get a hiss out of Sylus’s mouth.

“Thankfully, I was planning to fuck the shit out of you when we got here.”

Sylus said in a deep, low growl. Lust was rubbing in his voice; he was starting to lose control himself. Sylus placed his hands on my face, guiding me to meet his lips once more. 

With one swift move, Sylus took me in his arms and placed me on top of the bike seat. In the middle of desperate kisses, his left hand guided my legs to open so he could place himself between them. I locked my legs on his hips, pulling him closer to me. I wanted him to know how much I needed him, how much I craved to have every inch of him inside of me. 

We were starving and didn’t even try to restrain the sounds coming out of us. With every pass of his tongue on mine, savoring every millimeter of it, I couldn’t help but let out soft, needy moans. Pulled back, gasping for air. 

“Sylus, I… I want more.”

I was starting to lose myself in him, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the hunger growing bigger and bigger every second I felt Sylus’s grinding his cock agaisnt me, teasing my pussy through the already soaked fabric of my underwear. 

“Tell me exactly what you want, sweetie. Say it.”

Sylus said between breaths. Looking down at me with his mischievous smile.

“I…I want you to fuck me, Sylus. Hard.”

Without wasting a second, his hands slid down my sides, in a famished anger, igniting heat everywhere he touched. Sylus, impatiently, took off my skirt along with my panties, exposing my entrance, wet and needy for him. I moved my hands to his jeans, unbuttoning them immediately. Seeing his cock trobbing for me underneath his boxers only made my mouth water. I slid my right hand inside his underwear and started to stroke it up and down. Already feeling his precum on my hand, I bit my lip as he curled his back, resting his head on my shoulder, as low moans left him. 

“Kitten, wait. I want to come inside of you.”

Sylus was panting, obviously almost reaching his limit. He raised his hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers. His member now shining with precum for me, pulsing with desire only my cunt could give him. 

With his left hand on his cock, he started teasing me with his tip, my breath hitching at the gentle contact, my core already aching, desperate for him. The cold metal of the bike beneath me contrasted sharply with the heat radiating between our bodies. Every nerve felt exposed, trembling under the anticipation of what was coming. 

Then, slowly, deliberately, his cock slid inside me. I gasped, the stretch igniting a fire low in my belly. It was a tight fit - raw, perfect - his size forcing my body to open around him inch by inch. I let out a moan that echoed into the night air, shameless and hungry. 

He paused once he was fully inside, as if to savor the moment - the way I clenched around him, the way I writhed beneath him, needing more. His eyes locked with mine, and something in his gaze made my pulse quicken: hunger, possession, awe. Then he began to move. 

His hips rolled forward with slow, calculated thrusts that sent shockwaves through me, the rhythm amplified by the unsteady creak of the bike beneath us. Each stroke sent jolts of pleasure through my spine, the friction deep and maddening. My thighs gripped his waist tightly, trying to draw him even deeper, to make him lose control the way I was.

“Fuck,”

He groaned, voice strained.

“You feel… insane.”

I couldn’t answer, not with words, at least. I just arched into him, letting the handlebars of the bike take my weight as I surrendered to the rhythm. He gripped my ass with both hands now, his pace quickening, growing rougher, more desperate. The angle forced him to hit deeper, again and again, and I cried out as the pleasure coiled tighter inside me. 

The metal seat pressed against my back, grounding me in the wildness of our connection. I was dizzy from the sensation of him - his breath on my neck, the slap of skin on skin, the delicious friction of his body claiming mine. Our movements were messy, frantic, our balance precarious, but neither of us cared. All that mattered was the relentless pace, the sharp heat, the need to fall over the edge together.

The pressure coiled tighter with every thrust, tension building like a storm at its breaking point. I was right on the edge, my body trembling, fingers digging into his shoulders as he pounded into me with a tempo that bordered on desperation. Each movement was harder, deeper - driven by need, by instinct, by the raw hunger between us. 

“Sylus…I’m so close.”

I breathed, voice barely a whisper over the sound of our bodies colliding. 

“I know.”

He groaned against my neck, his breath hot, ragged.

“Come for me, sweetie.”

His words shattered what little control I had left. 

Pleasure tore through me like lightning, blinding and all-consuming. My body arched, tightened around him, every muscle tensing as the orgasm ripped through me. I cried out his name - loud, broken - as waves of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me weightless, gasping, undone. 

The clench of my release dragged him with me. His rhythm faltered, then snapped as he buried himself deep, hips pressing hard against mine. A low, guttural moan tore from his throat as he came, his release pulsing inside me, warm and grounding. He held me there, locked in place, like the moment could stretch on forever.

We stayed like that for a breathless beat - panting, tangled, trembling. The world slowly returned in pieces: the cool night air against sweat-damp skin, the creak of the bike beneath us, the soft thud of his heart against my chest. 

Neither of us spoke at first. We didn’t need to.

He kissed me then - soft, reverent - like he wasn’t done worshipping me just yet. 

[tenderbeck]

⋆.˚✮ thunderstruck 🤍 xavier 星回 ✮˚.⋆

⋆.˚✮pairing: bad boy/punk xavier x reader

⋆.˚✮word count: 6.2k

⋆.˚✮summary: popular among girls, distant and intimidating troublemaker—that’s how others saw him. gentle, charming and intelligent boy, who had no idea what personal space was—that’s how you knew him. and although the truth lied somewhere in between, one thing was certain: xavier would do anything to finally make you his. starting with asking you out, of course.

⋆.˚✮tags: bad boy xavier, punk xavier, college setting, kinda meet cute, but more like talking to each other for the first time cute, self-confident xavier, but also shy xavier, the duality of this man is insane, he has TATTOOS, and PIERCING, and he’s so djbdgdsb yess yess, i did it for myself i’m sorry, smoker xavier, but not for long hehehihi, he’s a gentleman, and totally whipped, like, absolutely whipped for the reader, sfw, yet!! if i continue it it would turn mdni for sure.

please let me know if u liked it and if u would be interested in reading more <33

“Aaaand he’s looking at you again.” Simone snapped you out of your thoughts, making your fingers stop their frantic movements over the keyboard. The two of you were sitting at the campus café, desperate to finish your assignments as quickly as you possibly could, thinking that each other’s company and your favorite sweet drinks might make the work at least a little bit more enjoyable.

And it actually worked—you were almost done with your essay, and judging by your friend’s relaxed posture and the fact that she had time to observe her surroundings, she must’ve finished hers too.

“Hmm? Who?” You asked with a small smile, noticing how the cream from her coffee sat above her upper lip, creating the illusion of a thin mustache and making her look like a cute little detective. You pulled out a napkin from the holder and brought it to her lips, muffling her next words in the process.

“Xavier, that punk guy who—oh, thank you, baby, it always makes me look like Freddie Mercury—who studies some kind of engineering.” You laughed softly at her added comment and placed the dirty napkin on your small, empty plate. “Girl, you heard what I said? Xavier. That Xavier has literally been drilling a hole in your head for the past hour or so, with those sexy—like, dangerously sexy—eyes of his. And that—that piercing—and, and, you know what? You don’t seem concerned in the slightest, what if he’s like, mad at you or something? He always looks kinda scary. Sexy-scary, but still.” The last sentence said in a whisper, and you snorted, picking up your iced drink and taking a slow sip.

“Oookay, I think I’ve heard enough.” You laughed and shook your head, one hand returning to the keyboard to save your file. “He’s not mad at me. I know him. If he’s looking our way, he probably recognized me, but is too shy to say hi.” You finished your drink with not-so-quiet slurp, your lips immediately letting go of the straw as you looked around bashfully, hoping no one had noticed.

“Too shy? Have you lost your mind? Or are there more scary-looking Xaviers around campus that I don’t know about?” She leaned forward, lowering her voice, and you closed your laptop with a sigh. You didn’t like that she called him scary, you always thought his usual pout, scowl or mask of indifference made him look kinda cute.

You checked the time on your phone and noticed that one of your electives was starting in 20 minutes—if you wanted to be there on time, you’d have to leave in a second.

“Besides, you know him? Since when?”

“Remember that one poetry elective I had to take last semester? We had a group project as the final assignment, and he was part of my group.” You watched with amusement as her mouth opened in shock, her brows furrowing. “And he’s actually really sweet. And smart, too, just not that much of a talker.” You shrugged, your eyes dropping as you remembered how the other group members had acted toward him back then.

How they talked behind his back, assuming he wouldn’t do his part of the project. How they doubted his abilities and overall academic competence as a conversation starter when he was sometimes late to meetings—and how quiet and reserved they became when he finally joined you.

You quickly got angry on his behalf, knowing that he had never been rude or disrespectful to any of you, and every single task he was assigned was sent to the group chat just a couple hours later. The fact that they treated him that way because of some rumor about him being a troublemaker, and his eye-catching, rough appearance, was what made you finally speak up.

“—He’s kind of a lost cause. He wouldn’t finish it anyway. What a guy like him can know about poetry? I’m surprised he can read at all.” One of the guys from the group commented again, taking advantage of Xavier’s absence. The meeting had just started, and you were sure he would come—just a tad bit later. You always assumed he had a class beforehand, but he never said anything when he realized that this particular hour suited the rest of you best.

He was always like this, you’d noticed it some time ago. He never wanted to cause any issues, always silently accepting and diligently working on whatever task was assigned to him. And yet, at nearly every meeting, he was dragged under the bus before he even had a chance to show up.

Their reactions surprised you a lot. You didn’t know Xavier personally before, but you knew of him, it was hard not to. He had a reputation as a reserved troublemaker and was extremely popular among girls, who seemed to try asking him out— or at least getting a good make-out session—probably every day, always without success. Ironically, that only made him a more intriguing target. He had the face of an angel, a body decorated like a fallen one, and the physique of an athlete, all on top of being seemingly unobtainable. Girls were totally head over heels for him, which actually made you pity him, knowing how much unwanted attention it probably brought.

And although he was pretty introverted and a little rough around the edges, people generally seemed to like him. He was intimidating, and he spoke his mind surely, but he didn’t seem like someone who went around looking for a fight. Within your project group, he was usually quiet and cooperative, which is why you couldn’t understand why they were suddenly being so harsh toward him.

That’s why on that day, you finally snapped.

“Oh, shut up, Matt. What do you know about poetry anyway? Most of us are here just because it fit our schedules.” You stood up from the table in the park, your designated meeting place, your hands pressing firmly against the polished wood. You couldn’t listen to Xavier being dragged anymore, judged solely on his appearance, when you knew he was actually quite engaged in the project. “And yes, maybe he’s a little late sometimes but he always shows up, and does the work perfectly. Besides, he’s never been rude to any of you, so I don’t understand why you’re always so awful to him.” Your face, and the slightly harsher edge to your voice, betrayed your annoyance, but you had finally lost the patience to care about their opinion of you.

Some of the girls who had been too afraid to speak up smiled at you encouragingly, while the main bully just shrugged, looking up at you nonchalantly with one arm draped over the back of the chair beside him.

“He looks like bad news. And gets on my nerves.” He answered simply, and if you weren’t red from anger before, you sure were now. “And he probably sells drugs or some—”

“And you look like a complete asshole right now.” You snapped, already frantically stuffing your notes into your bag. You refused to hear any more of this, not about a boy who had literally done nothing wrong to deserve such harsh words every time you met. “And you shouldn’t fucking care what he looks like. From what we know, he’s hard-working and smart, and he definitely has feelings, too. He deserves basic human respect, don’t you think?” You slung your bag over your shoulder and shot the guy another glare, completely ignoring their stares—which were definitely no longer aimed at you—and the quiet shadow that had appeared behind you some time ago. “I’ll send you the file by the end of the week. I won’t sit around, wasting time with someone who’d rather talk shit than do actual work. Now, if you’ll excuse m—”

Bump.

Your body bounced off a hard chest clad in a leather jacked, and by the time strong, tattooed hands gently grabbed your shoulders to steady you, you were already blushing.

Because Xavier was right there behind you. For God knows how long.

You snapped your head up, your panicked eyes meeting his deep blues—calm, gentle and understanding— as he continued to hold your shoulders, even though he must’ve know you had already gained your balance. You studied him for a moment: his longish hair, a mullet peeking out from the leather collar of his jacket, and ears adorned with various piercings. Your gaze drifted to his lips, drawn absentmindedly to the small silver ring on the side of his bottom lip, which he was now biting slightly.

Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God—

“S—Sorry, I was just—leaving—” You said quickly, your eyes suddenly finding the grass fascinating. You could still feel the warmth of his hands lingering on your shoulders, along with the fresh, calming scent of a fabric softener mixed with something so uniquely comforting—

“I’ll walk you home, then.” His hands traveled slowly down your arms before he let go, your cheeks burning as you avoided his gaze at all costs. It was probably the first time he had spoken to you directly, spoken to any of you directly, really. His soft voice was usually directed at no one in particular, offering sparse but meaningful comments during your brainstorming sessions.

How much had he heard? Was he angry? He didn’t look angry. Why did he want to walk you home? He never walked any of you home.

“No! I mean, no—no, thank you, that’s so nice of you, Xavier, really, but I live pretty close by. You shouldn’t bother.” He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, and you noticed him turning his head toward the others.

“I could never be bothered by—Did you just fucking roll your eyes at her?” His calm voice suddenly turned cold, the tone not raised, but much sharper. Your head turned to the person he was now staring at, and you saw Matt’s eyes widen. “I asked you a fucking question. Did you roll your eyes at her?”

“And if I did then what are you going to do? Beat me up?”

“Wow, really Matt? You’re such a child.” You turned to him fully, but an arm blocked your way, an intricate tattoo depicting the moon cycle peeking from one rolled up sleeve.

“Apologize to her and you won’t have to find out.” You looked up at Xavier and almost smiled, noticing how the role of protector had flipped. But the intense stare he used to size up the annoying colleague made the hairs on the back of your nape stand on end. He sure looked intimidating when he wanted to. “I said, apologize.”

And when the silence began to stretch, and Xavier took a deliberate step forward, you grabbed his bicep, surprisingly firm and muscular, oh wow, and started to lead him away, afraid the conversation would turn sour in a matter of seconds.

Letting him walk you home wasn’t such a bad idea after all, you decided, feeling the sweat nearly drip from your temple.

“Wait, he didn’t apologize to you yet, and I won’t let him get away until he does.” You heard Xavier’s voice a step behind you but decided to continue your path, until you reached a safer distance.

“It’s okay. I’m not accepting apologies from ignorant jerks, anyway.” You heard a soft huff of laughter from him, and your lips curved into a small smile. Your steps slowed a moment later, and you took a deep breath, watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky while the gentle wind eased the burn of your cheeks. “Were you really planning to fight him?”

He was walking beside you now, your hand no longer holding his arm, and when you finally looked his way, you were startled to find him already watching you.

You could understand why people were wary of him—when he was right there beside you, his overall size was pretty intimidating. He towered over you an impressive amount of inches, and his body type, which you used to think was rather lanky, turned out to be more on the athletic side. With his lip and ear piercings, and now, clearly, an eyebrow piercing too, two small dots on either side of his eyebrow, paired with several tattoos on his hands and his rather muted wardrobe choice, he could raise some concerns.

Could, but didn’t have to. Not when his eyes were so gentle and kind, looking at you as if you had hung all the stars in the sky. To you, he looked like a prince: gentle features, silky-soft hair and a graceful stance that made him, ironically, the least intimidating person you’d met. It actually struck you how handsome he was, too. Much more handsome up close than from the distance, your heart fluttered nervously.

“Hmm. He disrespected you so, yes. Probably. It’s better to let him think I would. I usually don’t start fights.” Was his answer, his steps matching your pace, heavy, black combat boots stepping silently beside your white sneakers. You felt a tug at your arm, and before you could protest, he started carrying your handbag along his. All your protests died in your throat the moment he looked at you and shook his head. Message received. “I only end them.” Xavier added like an afterthought, and it didn’t sound like bragging but more like stating a fact. You laughed quietly and nodded, unsure what to say as your mind drifted back to the events from moments ago.

“I’m sorry for—”

“Thank you—”

You both started to speak at the same time and quickly stopped, a nervous laugh escaping from you. You looked at him again and noticed that his eyes were crinkled at the corners too. He adjusted his handbag on his shoulder and cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, but I’ll start. Because you have nothing to apologize for.” A sigh left your lips, and you started playing with your fingers, his answer easing your worries. He looked straight ahead when he spoke again. “I heard what you said to them. How you protected me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I did. It wasn’t the first time they said such things and I should’ve spoken my mind much, much sooner.” You started speaking, annoyed again, the nearly forgotten rage rising inside you once more. “You were nothing short of helpful and kind to us and it was a pleasure to work with you! I just couldn’t listen to him spouting nonsense anymore.”

And when you tried to meet his eyes again, you noticed the tips of his ears were red.

“It was a pleasure to work with you, too.” His voice like a balm to your irritation, every single second spent in his presence confirming your beliefs about him being a secret sweetheart. “But I’m used to people taking shit about me, actually. And I really don’t care what they think.”

“Well, it’s good. You shouldn’t.” His lip piercing caught your eye again, and you decided it suit him very well. You also noticed that you had slowed down, but this time you were matching the pace he set. “But it doesn’t make it fine. So next time, stand up for yourself too, okay? You were quick to do that for me, so it shouldn’t be much of a problem to treat yourself with the same kindness, right?”

Xavier’s eyes suddenly met yours, his mouth opening and closing slightly as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. The tips of his ears were red, and he put a hand behind his back, stroking at the skin lightly, nervously.

“Mhm. Right.” His eyes drifted to your face, studying it intently. You found his gaze extremely intense, peeking from behind his silver strands, but you didn’t mind. His presence was actually very calming, both his voice and body language relaxed and almost dreamy-like.

Xavier stopped suddenly, making you wonder if he had forgotten something, or if your conversation was over, and he was about to return your bag and head his own way. Instead, he leaned toward you, took your hand in his—his touch feather-light, your fingers cradled gently in his—and he brought it up to his lips.

A kiss. Gentle one, but lingering, pressed just below your knuckles. You felt the warmth of his lips and the cool touch of the metal ring against your skin, and you swallowed hard the moment he opened his eyes and looked straight at you.

And it was a look you would reminisce about for weeks to come, because of how seen you felt right in that very moment. The clouds continued their never-ending journey across the sky, and the birds chirped a melody to which you were usually unaware. A look resembling a full conversation. A look holding meaning, one that you weren’t sure you were able to grasp yet.

“Thank you, my sweet little knight.” He whispered against your skin, and you gulped, your heart racing, mind blanking for a short while. “It seems I gained my own guardian angel today.” And when you saw how genuine he was, your body melted into his touch completely, your chest swelling with the quiet pride of knowing you did something good today.

“Anytime, princess.”

And when your ears caught his sudden, bubbly laugh, short canines on full display, that seemed to surprise even him, you didn’t let it become forgotten for the months to come, keeping the sound close to your heart.

You remembered the first day you actually talked to each other other and smiled softly; the walk home filled with interesting stories and shared laughter, the intimidating bubble he’d once seemed trapped in popped the moment you spent real time with him, leaving only the image of a sweet gentleman behind.

It wasn’t the only time you talked either, although after the elective course had ended your ways parted completely: your interactions scarce and happening usually when you were in a rush, or already late, to your classes.

A smile on your lips, followed by a happy wave of your hand met with the surprised, gentle spark in his eyes, and you were already gone.

There were only a handful of times you’d managed to exchange a word or two—usually while waiting in line at the coffee machine, with him asking about your major and interests, or when you were passing by him in the library, where you’d quickly complimented his new tattoo: a constellation on his forearm, still covered by a piece of second skin.

Quick, fleeting interactions; nothing more.

However, you found yourself thinking about him sometimes. About his melodic voice, a gentleness serving a sharp contrast to how rough he could’ve seemed to others. His soft hair, how you wondered what it would feel like to bury your fingers in it and stroke the strands gently. His lean but muscular build, his strong arms adorned with ink—art so majestic you found it hard to look away sometimes, your mind wandering, wondering if he had more tattoos on other parts of his body, and if so, where would they be hidden? And what would they depict?

His lips, soft pink hue, decorated with a silver ring, the coolness of which you already felt when he kissed your hand that day. And on the most desperate of nights, you let your mind imagine how it would feel pressed against your lips.

You shook your head, the thoughts unwanted and totally unnecessary, knowing that it was just a fleeting acquaintance. You couldn’t like him that way, because you knew that you surely weren’t his type at all. You weren’t even sure why your mind started thinking about him in such a way, your type being usually the complete opposite. But you guessed that it was just because of how charming he was, how clever and funny, how awkward at times. How kind to you. And how absolutely gorgeous his eyes were—always looking at you with patience and an interesting kind of wonder.

It didn’t matter. You were only colleagues, and he was too popular and too different from you to actually be interested. So, you stopped thinking about it some time ago.

“‘Not that much of a talker,’ she says. I never—never!—heard him talk. And I had few electives with him, mind you.” The voice of your friend brought you back from wonderland. You decided not to answer anything to that, thinking that if you told her that he was the one who usually initiated conversations with you, she would probably have a stroke. “You are one lucky girl. You have your own guard dog now.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You answered absentmindedly, not liking that label. “Or the other way around. I can be feisty.” You imitated shooting from your finger guns, and she laughed, raising her almost empty cup.

“Cheers to that!” You raised your empty cup too while throwing your laptop into your bag. “He’s still staring by the way. Hasn’t really stopped since I noticed. It would be really creepy if he wasn’t that handsome.” You snorted, zipping up your bag and looking down at your phone.

“I told you, he probably just wants to say—Oh, shit! Gotta go! The classes start in 10 and I mixed up the buildings again!”

“Oh, shoot, is that the one at the end of—?” You nodded frantically and she waved her hand dismissively. “Go! I’ll take care of your cup, see you later!” You quickly went to her and hugged her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before practically flying out of the café, completely forgetting to send Xavier a small wave on your way out, if he really was sitting somewhere behind you.

That’s why you also missed how abruptly he stood the moment you bolted for the door—wanting to chase after you, but stoping himself when he realized you didn’t even have time for a small talk. He should’ve approached you sooner, should’ve spoken to you the moment he saw you, instead of just sitting there, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of your angelic smile.

He wondered when did he loose his balls, when even the simple idea of talking to you made his heart flutter nervously, his hands automatically reaching to scratch at the ink submerged in his skin. He was pathetic, and it was really starting to get on his nerves.

And at that moment his eyes locked with those of your friend, her lips slowly curling into a knowing smile as she caught him almost running after you. She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and in that instant he finally decided to stop being a coward.

He couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you everyday anymore.

He grabbed his bag and started walking purposely to the place which you occupied only moments before. He needed information and he would get it, even if he would have to beg for it.

“Oho. I knew it.” Your friend said, seconds before he even managed to introduce himself.

And he realized that he’d known it too. Almost from the moment he first saw you.

You were exhausted to say the least.

Your classes dragged on, making your head hurt from staring at the constantly changing slides. Your whole body felt sore, and you stretched the moment you reached the lockers—arms raised, back arched, a moan almost escaping your lips.

Your poor legs practically begged for the short trip back to your apartment, if the slight numbness in them wasn’t already enough of a sign of stagnation.

You opened your eyes lazily and turned the key in your locker, wanting to gather your things as quickly as possible and finally see the light of day.

“Hey.” A low greeting from right behind you made you spin around too quickly, your back bumping against the locker. It startled you when you noticed how close he was standing, towering over you.

Xavier.

In all his tattooed glory, hair unruly as always, and his pretty eyes boring straight into yours. He hissed when you made contact with the locker, his large hand immediately coming to rest on the back of your head, gently caressing it, afraid you had taken the hit. You blushed, the contact sudden and unexpected, his body possibly closer to yours than ever before.

“Are you okay?” The hand on the back of your head slid down slightly, now resting on the nape of your neck. The hold was gentle, intimate. You wondered if he realized it. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” His thumb stroked the skin on your neck, and your cheeks caught fire.

You gulped and shook your head, sighing as the tension in your shoulders eased when you saw his familiar face.

“It’s okay. I’m not hurt, and I didn’t hit my head, so don’t worry.” His expression visibly shifted, relief written all over his face. But his hand didn’t leave your neck. “Sorry, hi. Hi. I just didn’t expect you here.” You didn’t expect anyone really, it was already late for classes and if any were to take place, everyone would already be inside classrooms.

His presence was especially puzzling, it wasn’t even his faculty, did he had another elective here?

“I wanted to see you.” Straightforward answer, as usual. You send him a small smile, thinking back to earlier when you almost met at the café; if it hadn’t been for you being in such a hurry. He must’ve felt bad for not coming up to you, especially since he probably waited for you to finish your classes. But why did he care so much? “And I was actually thinking… Hoping that…” His hand slid away from the back of your neck and began playing absentmindedly with a strand of your hair, while you struggled to keep the blush from darkening your cheeks even further.

He was so close. Too close. You could almost feel his breath warming up your face and see your reflection staring back from the little silver dots in his eyebrow. An inch or two more, and you were sure his hair would brush your forehead, given how much he was leaning into your space.

But he was always like this whenever you two crossed paths—his body leaning in too close to be just friendly, paying no mind to your personal space. His hands were also always reaching out for you as if he couldn’t help it: fixing the hair that fell into your face, stroking your arm, or even occasionally brushing your nose with his knuckle when you said something that made him chuckle.

You thought this was his way of being friendly and you enjoyed it, ignoring the fact that it only seemed to fuel your silly little crush. Besides, you found it very endearing that he was so distant and cold with others, yet so touchy-feely with the ones he liked. It made you feel special, if not a little hopeful.

And that’s when the sharp smell hit you, a cigarette smoke mixed with his pleasant, soft cologne. You scrunched up your nose and pressed a hand against his chest to create some more distance between you.

“Oof, you smoked again.” You couldn’t help but comment, seeing his brows furrowing in confusion upon your slight push of his chest.

“You can still smell it? I even got some gum.” To prove his point, he blew a small bubble from his lips, a minty scent reaching your nose when he popped it a second later, the corners of his lips lifting in a small, proud smirk.

“It’s all over your clothes, Xavier. The smoke seeped right into them. You need a bath, not a gum.” Quiet, unserious little “ouch” left his lips, and you tugged at his black sweatshirt, only now noticing a small cat plushie hanging from one of his sleeves.

So cute. You loved that accent, your finger going to poke at the accessory with an exaggerated sigh. “How could you do it to this adorable little thing?”

“It’ll live. Always does.” His eyes followed your finger still gently touching the plushie, “He’s a tough guy, can handle a bit of smoke. He’d take a drag too if he could, probably.” You sent him a half-serious glare and pulled your hand away from his arm, signaling defeat. You noticed he was still standing right where you had pushed him back to, more mindful of your space.

You turned your back to him to open your locker again, and pulled out your bag, along with your light jacket. However, before you could even sling the bag over your shoulder, he already grabbed hold of it, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

“Does it bother you?” Xavier asked, his voice unsure, your bag already on his arm. The pastel-colored plushies hanging from it were a sharp contrast to his appearance. You looked at him again after making sure you had closed the locker. “The smell of smoke, I mean.” His beautiful blues bore into your eyes, his teeth biting at the lip ring nervously.

“Well, I can’t say I like it. I don’t think anyone really does.” He looked at you like a scolded puppy, his hair falling into his eyes when he turned his head to the side. “But it’s your choice, really, I can’t tell you how you should live. It’s just… really sad to know that you’re destroying your lungs daily.”

“Hmm, yeah. It is pretty sad.” Although a pout marked Xavier’s face now, you noticed a slight playfulness in his voice. Then, a sudden spark appeared in his eyes, as if an idea had just formed in his mind. “I could die. You wouldn’t want that to happen, am I right?” He leaned toward you again, one hand placed beside your head, his body almost trapping you against the lockers, your back pressed to the cool metal again. His fingers stroked your wrist, then trailed up to your forearm, his stormy blue eyes following the movement attentively.

“Y—You’re acting weird.” You commented weakly, your heart increasing its beating against your chest. He was so close, too close, his body towering over yours, making you see only him. You nervously looked around, hoping no one saw you, but you already knew you were alone. “Of course I wouldn’t, but—” You wanted to comment on his unusual boldness, ask a question to why was he suddenly acting like this, but he cut you off before you could say another word.

“I’ll quit, then.” His face so close you could smell the mint of the gum and feel the coldness of his breath on your cheek. You trembled unconsciously. “I don’t want you to be worried. But, I think I would like to ask for something in exchange.”

“Ah, so that’s what it’s all about, you’re cozying up to me because you want someth—”

“A date.” Your mouth closed instantly, eyes meeting his in shock. “There’s this gig that I would love to take you to, this weekend. Open-air, starts at midnight. We could—we could grab a bite too right before it starts? If you’d want to, of course.” You watched as his confidence slowly melted as he was speaking, voice trembling nervously at times, the tips of his ears turning red.

It was probably the longest reply he ever gave you, his sentences usually short and precise. And as you stared at him in disbelief, at his red ears and lip that he was now nervously biting despite acting so tough moments before, your chest filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling of your affections being reciprocated.

He was asking you out on a date.

Xavier, that Xavier: hot, intimidating, unbothered, extremely popular and seemingly unapproachable in the eyes of others.

Xavier, an intelligent, soft, socially awkward and extremely sweet little crush of yours was asking you out on a date.

You had to force yourself not to squeal, the idea that he found you attractive too making you nearly melt right into his chest, that seemed to be getting closer and closer with every second. You were both so different from each other, how could you predict that you actually had a chance with him? You thought that your quick, daily encounters was only him being nice, maybe excited to have a new friend.

Your lips curled into a smile, eyes sparkling with excitement you couldn’t contain.

“Is it that band you were talking about last week?” The memory of catching him staring excitedly at his phone right before you approached him during one of your short class breaks was still fresh in your mind. His fingers had been fidgeting with the cap he wore that day, turning it around as he leaned in to show you the newly added dates—one of which was very close to Linkon.

“Yeah. My favorite one.” He was getting more and more nervous, his hand was touching the nape of his neck now. “And I know these things can be loud and stuffy but I would protect you. You’d be safe with me, I swear, I wouldn’t let anyone else—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His head lowered even closer, the tips of your noses nearly touching. His eyes half-lidded, gazing down at you, his heart skipping a beat.

“Mhm. I would love to go with you.” Afraid to stumble over your words, your answer a gentle whisper. “Even without you quitting smoking. Buuut, it’s a really nice bonus.” Xavier chuckled, his head dropping to bring his lips closer to your ear.

“That so?” You had no idea, but he hid his head from your gaze for the widest of smiles to appear on his face. He closed his eyes and let himself bask in your closeness and sweet scent, mentally thankful for his burst of confidence earlier. “Then maybe the whole quitting thing isn’t really necessary?”

“Ah-ah. No takesies backsies—”

“No wha—”

“A promise is a promise.” You stated surely, your finger pressing on his chest as a warning. If he said he’ll quit, he better have to quit. Especially since now the possibility of him being closer to you daily has increased immensely. “If you want to reach for a cigarette now, you better pop in some gum. Or some candy, or ask for a—”

“Kiss?”

Your head turned his way just as his forehead rested on your shoulder. One eye opened, staring at you, a smirk lingering on his lips, the piercing there once again catching your attention.

Would you feel it when his mouth finally pressed to yours? Would it be forceful and bruising, or would he take his time, easing you into it with soft patience? He was a walking enigma, shy and gentle one moment, confident and quick the next. What side of him would you uncover if you let yourself get closer?

“Don’t overthink it or I might actually take your silence as a yes.” You breath hitched the moment he turned his head and you felt his lips touching the skin below your ear. Not a kiss, just a fleeting warmth of his mouth, the coolness of the ring causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. He took a step back, taking all the warmth away and you nearly chased after him to bring it back.

What was he doing to you?

His knuckles brushed your flushed cheek, and your eyelashes fluttered, the touch once again unexpected.

“First, you have to keep your end of the deal. Then we’ll see.” You learned that you were a literal, freaking master at feigning confidence, given how weak your legs felt and how much you wanted to pass out while meeting his affectionate gaze.

His face was slightly flushed too. Clearly affected, despite his confident demeanor. Maybe you weren’t that different from each other, after all.

“We will.” Xavier wet his lips, the tip of his pink tongue barely peeking out before his teeth sank into the plush skin— like he was already imagining how it would feel like. Maybe holding himself back from satisfying his curiosity right then and there. “I’ll make sure we will. Wouldn’t dare to miss the chance, angel.”

And when he walked you home that day, your bag swinging from his broad shoulder and your fingers brushing from time to time, sending pleasant sparks between you—you realized that, despite your differences, you’d never felt such a connection with anyone before. Talking with him was so easy, the way the walk home felt too short not to miss the comforting presence of his for hours after. And you were sure he felt the same, from the way he joked about not giving your bag back, to the goodbye hug you initiated, but he prolonged, his strong arms wrapping gently around your waist, reluctant to let go. And then there was the longing glance he gave you, just seconds before you closed the door.

A sharp ping of a new message cut through the air not long after, a string of new numbers followed by a simple sentences, ones that made your heart beat faster again.

keep thinking that I shouldve made up some lame excuse just to spend more time with U. The cat plushie said he misses U. I didn’t know he could read my mind — Xavier

And with a chuckle and a blush, you already knew that you were slowly falling in love—and you just hoped that when it fully bloomed, he would be there to help you care for it.

As for the kiss—the weekend couldn’t come soon enough.

🤍 if you liked it, you can support me here! https://ko-fi.com/kitimeq <3

every single one counts, it helps me grow and makes me feel that writing is not a waste of time!! <3

please like, reblog and COMMENT if u liked it!! i would love to know if i should continue it—i wrote it as a quick, cute bad boy xavier story. i would love to make it mdni ofc skdhshdg <33

[tenderbeck]

Post-marathon sex with Sylus and he’s still insatiable.

You’re wearing one of his button downs, barely buttoned and lounging on his couch while he’s shirtless in the kitchen making you both something to eat.

You’re peeking at him, admiring the red nail marks you left on the plains of his back and waist. The low hanging sweatpants doing nothing to help your running thoughts.

Especially since you know he has nothing on underneath.

You settle back, eyes fluttering shut as you try and calm yourself. You both woke up four hours ago and just managed to untangle from each other in the last twenty minutes. Still, your mind replayed everything he did to you over and over and over again. How could you relax?

“Kitten.” You still, eyes snapping open to see your lover towering over you. “I thought you were…” but Sylus only hums, cutting you off as he grabs one of your legs and moves it out of his way. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Had he heard you? Sensed all your filthy thoughts with that cursed eye of his? Whatever had been cooking on the stove now laid forgot in a pan with the burner off.

“Here?” Yet, you’re lifting your other leg, letting your behemoth of a lover push your thighs up to your chest and reveal your bare cunt. “This is our house, kitten.” And he’s settling between your thighs, the couch somehow accommodating his size as his mouth hovers.

“I sent the twins away for a while, if you’re truly that concerned about getting caught. But we are adults, y’know. And this is our house. Free to use however…”

And you’re relaxing, squished up into the side of the couch as he bares your pussy for his hungry mouth. “Leaving the bed with nothing but my shirt, you really thought I’d be able to resist such temptations?” He kisses your swollen lips, still sensitive from the rounds of sex.

“Think i’d be able see you laying here and not want to ravish you again?” Another kiss, this time he sucks on your cunt before releasing it. “Could have this pussy a million times and still crave you like I’ve never had it.”

His tongue splits your slit, poking your clit and you’re whimpering. Your feet fall onto his shoulders, his hands still keeping your thighs squished and immobile. You’re fully at his mercy, no escaping even if you begged.

“Tell me to stop.” Drool is pooling on Sylus’ tongue, dripping onto your needy cunt as he pants. “Tell me to stop and we’ll stop.” Now, it’s your turn to pant.

“Sy, I don’t wanna stop.”

Like a switch, you can see the temptation consume him. Carmine eyes swallowed by the black of his pupils

“Perfect, because I really can’t hold back anymore.” His mouth encompasses you, nose settling on your pubic bone as his mouth tears you apart. His eyes are shut, a sigh of pure contentment vibrating your cunt as you cry his name.

Did I ever mention I yearn for this man like he’s real

[tenderbeck]

➵ 𓊆ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ sʏʟᴜs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʙɪᴋᴇ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ𓊇

biker Sylus au! 🔞

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Sylus ]

You and Sylus decided to go for a joyride one night. The weather finally cleared up, and both of you wanted to take advantage of it since you’ve been stuck at home due to the rain. 

But you were getting bored. Yes, you enjoyed going for a bike ride with Sylus any time, but this night in particular, you were craving more. It wasn't until an idea popped into your head. 

You came to a red light - one of the rare ones you’d actually managed to convince Sylus to obey. Not wanting to waste a second, you made your move. Your arms, which had been wrapped around him the entire ride, slowly slid away. You didn’t need to see his face to know the confusion flickering across his perfectly sculped features. You could feel it in the way his body stiffened, slightly, just enough to give him away. Casually, you let your hands drift to his shoulder, fingers pressing in as if offering a friendly massage - just an excuse. Just enough contact to blur the lines.

“You’re quite tense.”

Your hands moving in slow but firm circular movements, your grip getting tighter and tighter. 

“I know, but do you really think this is the right moment to give me a massage, sweetie?”

You couldn’t hold the smirk of satisfaction on your face. Thankfully, you were behind Sylus, wearing your bike helmet with kitty ears that he specifically ordered for you; it was perfect for hiding your expression at that very moment. Your grin just kept getting bigger and bigger as you noticed Sylus relaxing his body into yours.

This was the perfect moment. You let your hands slid away from his broad shoulders, the fake massage ending as your left hand drifted down the length of his back, slow and deliberate. It paused at his waist - his small, perfect slutty waist - and your fingers traced gentle patterns along the curve, brushing the subtle dip there with featherlight strokes. You kept your expression unreadable, innocent even, as if you weren’t doing anything at all. As if your thoughts weren’t veering exactly where they were. Patience was never your strong suit - not when the air between you and Sylus began to thicken like this. The heat, the pull - it always got to you first.

So you gave in. Your hand wandered lower. And lower. Until it settled exactly where you wanted - pressing against the firm shape of his large bulge, moving in slow, calculated movements. And when you heard Sylus’s breath hitch through the comms, that faint little stutter in the rhythm between your helmets, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“Sweetie, what do you think you’re doing?”

He couldn’t hide it. Sylus was so sensitive, he was already melting with your touch. While stroking his cock with your left, your right hand arose to grab his neck. Sylus was way bigger than you, but you pushed him just enough so his head was turned to you. If you two weren’t wearing the helmets, you would’ve started making out with this divine man who crumbled with just one touch of you. The man that so many feared and bowed to, yet the only one he would ever kneel for was you. You were his vulnerability after all, and it was evident in this precise moment.

“I just want my Sylus to relax. I told you, you’re tense, baby.”

He was starting to become a mess in your hands. Sylus was unable to reply to you; all that was coming from his mouth were soft groans and short, heavy breaths. If he could fuck you right then and there, he would. Oh, he was becoming chaos itself. You knew your man, this meant he was getting close. Letting go of his neck, you guided your hand under his shirt and started rubbing it all over his chest and abs, you wanted to literally feel his breathing. You continued to stroke his dick faster and faster now, every time you reached his tip, the 6’2-foot tall, muscly, strong man in front of you let out a moan so deep it felt like he had been touched starved for a decade. The truth was, it didn’t matter if the last time you two fucked was last night, last week, or last year. Sylus would always have the same reaction to you because you were the only one who satisfied him, as if you were the only fountain he dared to drink from. You were the only one who knew what he craved, and you were the only one who could deliver it to him. And you did, every single time.

Hearing his moans, now getting louder with every caress on his cock, made you shift on your sit. You obviously were attracted to this man, but something about his moans just turned you on violently. Unable to control yourself, you started to slow grind on the biker seat, your wet cunt already begging to be filled with him. You bit your lip, it was your time to pleasure Sylus. You couldn’t distract yourself, but his moans were getting into your mind, and the helmet stuck in your head wasn’t helping. It was like you were drowning in a sea of pleasure, and the pretty sounds coming out of Sylus’s mouth were the only thing your ears could hear.

“Kitten, you’re so good.”

Hearing these words was the last straw for you. You had been sucking in your little moans, trying to focus on pleasuring your lover, but this broke you. You let out a soft whimper. Sylus wasn’t even touching you, and you were already losing yourself in him. 

“Faster, kitten. I’m close.”

Almost begging, Sylus let out a sob. God, how good your hand felt around him; it was like magic. You never failed to make him feel good, to make him lose himself in you. You could feel his cock throbbing, he was almost at the finishing line when.

*Green light*

“Fuck!”

Frustration scratched his voice. But to you, this was perfect. As the light flicked green, you slipped your arms back around his waist,  just like you had at the start.

“C’mon, big boy! Let’s keep moving.”

You urged him to start driving again, not caring in the slightest whether he could hear the quiet content in your voice - the satisfaction of denying him release. But he didn’t budge. Not a twitch. Not a single muscle moved.

“What are you waiting for, Sylus? Let’s go!”

Now you were giggling. You had started the soft rain, giving it more power until it turned into a ravenous storm. Until you abruptly silenced it. Snapped it into sunlight with a flick of your will, leaving nothing but the echo of thunder in its wake. Sylus’s mind was still trying to catch up, reeling from what had just unfolded. But beneath that, he was furious. Not at you, of course. At the damned traffic light that dared to go green. You knew he was infuriated; you baited the predator, brought him his favorite meal, and then snatched it away with a smile.

As if nothing had happened, Sylus turned the bike around, going full speed on the road; nothing could stop him now, not even the red lights. He’s torso curved with the bike as if that would make it go faster. You didn’t think that he would be so angry; you were starting to regret everything. You opened your mouth to apologize to Sylus, but as if he could sense that, he stopped you.

“Since you’re into teasing these days. Let’s go home so I can show you what true teasing is, kitten.”

[tenderbeck]

We were looking for some trouble (and we found it)

You always wondered if Sylus’ horns were sensitive. Every time you tried to touch them, he always stopped you, coming up with some excuse on why you shouldn’t do it. But this time, something had changed. And who were you to let go of this opportunity?

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ part II of "finding you series" | part I

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ pairing: fiend!sylus x fem!vampire!mc

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ genre: porn with little plot, continuation of my vampire au, MDNI

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ word count: 4.4k

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ tags: explicit, blood, blood drinking, bites, vampire au, fiend sylus, this time i wrote just shameless smut, smoking, mc smoking, sylus smokes cigars, fingering, eating out, sylus just loves eating pussy, oral sex, cunnilingus, face riding, using sylus’ horns as handles, they’re so sensitive I just know it, questionable use of sylus’ joyride line, ‘cause i’m a freak, sylus has two dragon dicks, backshots, creampie, sweet aftercare, they just love each other so much

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ links: ao3, x thread

this is my only lads account, i'll only post my writings here, on ao3 and x (check pinned) NOT IN ANY OTHER BLOGS / ACCOUNTS

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ author's note: hello baby bats!! here once again expanding my au

i really have no excuses for myself, saw this post and this art immediately thought of my vampire au sylusmc and their nasty lovemaking

this can be read as a standalone but I strongly recommend reading the previous work - We found each other (we weren't even looking) - to understand it better

now without further ado, enjoy this fic my little freaks and remember, english is not my first language ♡

p.s.: you can find me on twitter @/tenderbeck where i post lads related stuff!! love you all

“Say, Sylus,” you said, putting down your book. Your restless mind couldn’t concentrate on the pages anymore, the story losing appeal as soon as your gaze focused on Sylus’ head, so you leaned into his space on the sofa, the burgundy leather squeaking under your weight. “Are your horns sensitive?” you continued, the pearl necklace he gifted you dangling and clinking with your movements.

He was reading a novel, glasses on, cigar smoke escaping his mouth as he turned the page, not fully acknowledging you, but a smirk was already adorning his face.

He was in his fiend form, having grown accustomed to your presence in his mansion. You two were practically living together as of now; having good food always ready (and a good fuck) had its perks since you weren’t forced to change cities every year due to the citizens’ intolerance of your species.

You took the cigar from his fingers and took a drag, blowing the smoke onto his face. “I said, are your horns sensitive?” you repeated, extending your hand trying to touch them, but he gripped your wrist, stopping you.

“Oh, kitten, wouldn’t you want to know?” he replied, putting down his novel on the coffee table and turning to face you. “Why the question?” he said, tilting his head.

You took another drag of the cigar and then gave it back to Sylus. “Can’t a lady be curious about her fiend?” you said, emphasising the word denoting possession, aware that Sylus loved when you said he was yours. There was something thrilling about having wrapped around your finger every man’s nightmare.

He was the powerful leader of Onychinus.

The big bad fiend.

But to you, and only you, he was your little lover boy, always eager to please your every dream and whim.

You sat on your knees, Sylus’ gaze, observing your exposed skin as your nightgown rode up, didn’t go unnoticed. His crimson eyes, now glowing, sensed your blooming desire.

“I think I know my minx well enough to understand when she has something on her mind,” he said as he let his draconic hand caress your thigh, claws grazing your skin as he went up, up, up and arrived at the hem of your skirt, making shivers run through your spine.

“Mmh, well maybe I do have something planned for tonight,” you smirked and stood up, not letting him linger too much on your skin: he had to earn that privilege. Even after all this time together, you made him work for it.

Make him work for a single gaze, make him work for a single touch, let alone a taste of your desire, its perfume already oozing from you and filling the room.

The tension between you two was almost palpable in the air, Sylus’ burning gaze was on your back as you approached a cabinet and opened a drawer, taking out a cigarette from the pack you put there.

You lit it using a candle, red wax covering its stand and almost staining the wood underneath. You savoured the first drag as you started to walk around, eyeing Sylus from behind your shoulder, “Why can’t I touch them?” you asked, “I think I’ve laid my hands on things far more…” you turned around and inhaled the smoke, exhaling it as you spoke, “scandalous than a mere pair of horns, no?” your eyes were set for a moment on his groin, your gaze slowly shifting over his body and reaching his eyes.

Sylus let out a soft laugh while crossing his legs, relaxing more into the sofa, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, kitten.”

“Then enlighten me, baby,” you said as you found yourself sitting on the coffee table in front of him, cigarette still in one hand and the other playing with the pearls around your neck.

He sharpened his gaze on you, searching for something on your features that would’ve told him you weren’t serious about this, but he found nothing. Only catlike eyes scrutinising his every expression.

“So, you’ve set your desire on this huh?” looking a bit surprised, he took a last drag from his cigar before putting it in the ashtray set on the table. He gestured to his lap, uncrossing his legs and spreading them a little, “Suit yourself then,” he smirked, looking you in the eyes.

You stood up, placed the cigarette on the ashtray beside you and climbed on his lap, straddling him.

As soon as you sat, though, a dreadful thought slipped into your mind: what if he was doing this just to please you? What if he really didn’t want you to touch his horns?

You had to make sure he was ok with everything that was going to happen from now on.

You carefully placed your hands on his cheeks and leaned in, gently kissing his nose, “You know that you don’t have to put up with this if it makes you uncomfortable,” you whispered, then looked into his eyes, “I adore you too much to ever let my desires cloud my judgment.”

Sylus smiled softly at you and reached for your face, a thumb stroking your cheek, “You’re becoming soft for me kitten. You do know that I’m perfectly capable of defending myself and saying no, right?” his tone was soft and dripping with honey, the underlying meaning of his words clear to you.

He wanted this as much as you did.

You huffed playfully, a finger travelling from the sides of his face to his lips, tracing their contours, “I know, I know. I was just making sure you understood that I planned on having my fair share of fun with you,” you smirked and placed a chaste kiss on his slightly parted mouth, your sweet lips lingering there just a moment longer.

These fleeting moments of shared tenderness were becoming more frequent lately, as if they were slowly embroidering themselves into the complex fabric that was your relationship.

And the thing that scared you the most was that you actually enjoyed them, searched them even.

Never, in all your centuries of life, you would’ve imagined that someone could make you feel this way. For you, it wasn’t normal to crave to be touched – ever the skittish creature – but with him every caress was filled with a sense of familiarity and warmth you weren’t used to, every kiss was like the crashing of waves to the shore, disrupting but always ready to come back for more, every time your bodies became one you didn’t even want to call it sex.

Because it was never just sex.

It was an intimate act. A dance of prey and predator, who was who always blurring in the heat of the moment because neither of you really cared, your roles never fixed and always changing, fluid like the blood in your veins.

There was trust between you two, something you were always reluctant to give but again, he behaved like it was the easiest thing to grasp from you. It was as if he took your hand, plunged it into his chest and made you feel his raw heart, heartbeat going in unison with yours.

You were standing on the same ground, two powerful creatures thriving in each other’s presence, and you needed that.

You needed the stability he gave you, the vulnerability you could feel by being next to him.

You were hoping this relationship – if you could call it that, since neither of you talked about it – could go on forever, you two never having to separate.

You shook your head as if the movement could free you from these thoughts, shoving them deeper in your brain. You put a hand in Sylus’ hair and scratched his scalp, earning a thrilling noise from the pleased fiend beneath you that now was placing one cheeky hand on your waist and going a little lower, but not daring to go all the way down.

“You can touch my ass sweetie, it’s all yours,” you said, using his own words against him and taking his hand in yours, placing it on your asscheek. Sylus let out an amused laugh, doing nothing more than looking at you and following your lead.

“Now,” you thought, “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me.”

You put your other hand in his hair and shifted both along his scalp, grazing it delicately. Once you’ve reached the base of his horns, you heard his breath hitch, his eyes closing.

What an interesting reaction.

You shifted closer on his lap and started to tentatively caress his horns, feeling all their ridges under your fingertips. They were sturdy and hard, but you could sense that your touch was affecting him, the growing erections under you the telltale of his interest, so you smirked and continued to touch them, moving your hands from top to bottom, bottom to top, the languid strokes unconsciously going in sync with your hip movements

Sylus was letting out low moans, the hand on your ass squeezing it so tightly you were certain it’ll surely leave bruises, and oh how you loved being bruised by this kind of touch, his desperation clinging to you like velcro.

Suddenly, an idea came to your mind: you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering how his horns would’ve tasted. Sure, it was unhinged, but were you ever sane in the first place? When it came to Sylus, you couldn’t seem to think rationally; the urge and the desire to touch, lick, and swallow everything he could offer were too strong. You wanted to take everything from him and then give it back like you just savoured the most precious thing to ever exist.

You were going crazy.

You got up on your knees and gripped Sylus’ horns, using them to yank his head near your chest. The man under you let out a growl due to your brusqueness, moving your necklace away from his face. Now, having better access to your cleavage, he inhaled the scent on your skin, starting to give your tits little kisses and occasional licks. He was truly behaving like an animal, chuffing now and then and nuzzling his cheek on you, as if he was marking his territory.

Content with his reaction, you got closer to the horns, caressing them again and again. You slowly placed your mouth there, finally kissing them; the hard material wasn’t rough on the lips, the feeling almost velvety.

Sylus bucked his hips up at your ministrations and let out a moan muffled by your chest, the grip on your ass tightening and almost ripping your nightgown. One hand came up to your breast and squeezed it, caressing the nipple through the fabric while he mouthed at the other, dampening the delicate satin.

You gasped losing focus, his actions making you melt. Your limbs became jelly and you had to breathe to regain your composure, your hands gripping Sylus’ hair to ground yourself and return to your task, the need to savour him as strong as ever.

You tentatively licked his horn, the taste salty but oh so delicious. You wanted to put it in your mouth and bite down, but you obviously decided against it; after all, there were far better things to sink your teeth into. You continued to give soft kitten licks to the hard protuberance, the man under you going feral with your actions, his mouth still on your nipples and his hips bucking up searching for some friction to no avail.

Who would’ve imagined that a fiend’s horns would be such a perfect plaything?

A thought carved its way into your mind but, as you were about to speak, Sylus’ hand was going under your skirt, almost caressing your innermost parts. You gripped it and stopped him, earning a pitiful noise.

Oh, how you liked to rile him up.

“Easy now, baby, I’ve still got a surprise for you,” you said as you sat back down and flicked his nose, an annoyed growl leaving the man’s mouth. You got up and took off your necklace – to Sylus’ delight – and put it on the coffee table, making sure to bend down in front of him, your short nightgown doing nothing to conceal your actual surprise: your naked folds. You smirked as you heard his breath hitch, knowing that he couldn’t resist the meal dangling in front of him.

“Now I see what you’ve prepared for me, kitten,” he said as he grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to him as you put your hands on the coffee table. He lifted your nightgown over your ass and tenderly caressed it, readying it for the things he wanted to do to you.

You didn’t have to wait more to discover what he had in mind as he started to place kisses on your cheeks, playfully biting them too.

You could feel your core clenching around nothing, your pussy glistening with arousal as Sylus put one hand – not fiendish anymore – on your thigh, caressing you and arriving near your folds. You let out a shaky breath as he began to touch you, feeling your tender flesh under his thumb.He reached your clit and started to circle it slowly, making you squirm under his touch; his hands were soft and delicate on you, knowing exactly where to touch and where to flick to make you saw stars dancing under your closed eyelids. You perceived him moving his hand towards your entrance, his middle finger prodding it and dipping in just the tip to tease you while he continued to kiss and grope your ass, leaving teeth marks and hickeys in his path. Unexpectedly, he fully sank his finger in and started to thrust lazily, making you feel so hungry for more and more and more, almost making you want to beg.

And then he stopped.

You tried to shake your ass to rope him into moving again and give you your beloved pleasure, but he had other plans, “Kitten, what do you think if we take this to our bedroom?” you could practically feel the sardonic smile plastered on his face, but he was affected by this too, his breath accelerated and his cheeks flushed, cocks already hard and aching to feel your insides wrapped around them, squeezing them and milking him of everything he had to offer; you wanted this too but right now something else was invading your mind, and it involved his special horns.

He was starting to taste your desire in the air, and who were you to deny a meal to a starving man? After all, the one who would come out victorious would be you, like every other time.

“If you insist,” you said, feigning an eyeroll, “but we have to do what I decide, deal?”

He let out a light-hearted laugh, “Of course beloved, everything for you,” he said as he playfully slapped your ass, taking you in his arms.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him as your hands entangled in his hair, the trip to the bedroom – your shared bedroom – on the first floor felt too long, the need to feel him against you almost unbearable.

When you entered the room, you let your hands travel from the base of his neck to the base of his horns, caressing them and thinking about something really, really mischievous…

“I can sense we have the same thing in mind, my dear,” he interrupted your thoughts, putting you down, your actions stirring something animalistic in him.

You placed your hands on his chest, slowly caressing the jewel nestled there. “Since you already know what I want to do, are you sure you’ll be able to take it?”

“Who do you think I am, kitten? I’m a fiend, Onychinus’ leader, but most importantly, I am your Sylus. I can take everything you have to give me,” he smirked. At his reply, you pushed him onto the bed, almost feral in your movements as you hastily straddled him, your nightgown already gone leaving you completely bare above him, so vulnerable but so, so strong, your cunt was throbbing with anticipation and your fangs elongating.

Every time you tried something new with him, your desire grew more and more, the room for rationality so small it wasn’t even there.

He laid there on the bed delirious for you, eyes glowing as red as the blood furiously rushing through your veins; he then placed his hands on your ass and moved you closer, your pussy dangerously near his mouth, “Are you up for a joyride later?”

“Where do you want to take me?” you said, moving your hips closer and closer.

“Guess,” he replied, and just like that he brought you down and gave your cunt a fat lick, the flat of his tongue savouring every crevice he could reach.

You were taken by surprise, but it soon morphed into pleasure as Sylus ceased his licks and opted for sucking on your folds like a starving man. Your juices, now reaching his chin in his messy eating, were a great source of desire, feeding off of them was a dream come true for Sylus and, as his perfect, crooked nose brushed against your clitoris, adding to the stimulation, you felt a jolt of electricity pass through your body, making you gasp.

For a fleeting moment, you were afraid you’d crush him with your weight, but then Sylus’ words resounded in your head,

“Don’t ever be shy when using me, beloved.”

So, you did just that, you let yourself go and threw out of the window all your inhibitions doing the most instinctual thing that came to your lust-crazed mind: you grabbed his horns to steady yourself, and he was so, so happy you finally did it, if the moan he let out, muffled by your core, was of any indication.

In this heated state, Sylus squeezed your ass as if to ground himself and regain what little sanity he had left, penetrating you with his tongue and pushing it in and out of your aching hole, which was tightening in tandem with his thrusts.

You felt many emotions at once: you were so full but so empty at the same time, his tongue was too much and not enough to satisfy your hunger. One thing remained unchanged, though, and it was your grip on his horns, the only thing keeping you afloat in the sea of pleasure you were sinking into.

You used his horns as handles to guide Sylus’ face movements, setting the pace of his devouring as your divine ambrosia was dripping copiously while he lapped it all up, neck following your ministrations when you moved his face up and down, his nose repeatedly brushing against your core and stimulating parts you didn’t even know you could feel, let alone take pleasure in.

You closed your eyes and let your body do all the leading, your hands shifting on Sylus’ horns as if you were giving his cocks an handjob, his moans vibrating against your core as he bucked his hips up.

That evening, he never asked to be inside you, it wasn’t necessary. He always took what you were willing to give him, and you always took what you wanted from him. Being at your service was his greatest pleasure.

But as you discovered the sensibility residing in his horns, a new game had started; now there were new ways in which you could pleasure him too.

After all, he deserved it.

The games, the pleasure, the love.

Taking advantage of your closed eyes and heightened senses, Sylus sped up his licking, two fingers slowly entering your core and fucking in and out at the same pace of his tongue; the stretch took you by surprise but it was oh so delicious, your pleasure showing in a high-pitched moan and your grip on his horns tightening, making the man beneath you let out a low guttural moan.

You felt like you were flying, your mind becoming mush with all the sensations he was making you feel, but this wasn’t enough, you needed more.

You needed to be filled to the brim; you needed to feel him everywhere, all at once.

Outside you, inside you, over you, all around you, you needed- you need, need…

“What, beloved?” Sylus said, kissing your folds, his hand movements never ceasing to give you pleasure, “What do you need?”

Unable to clear your mind from the fog enough to reply, the only thing you could do was cry out as his fingers reached your favourite sweet spot and stroked it over, and over, and over again. That bastard.

“Use your words kitten,” he said smirking, his fingers slowing down and now just resting there, inside you.

That gave you time to regain your thoughts, “I need you inside me Sylus, please.”

You didn’t have to repeat yourself as he kissed your clit one last time and manhandled you into a sitting position on his lap as he sat on his knees. Facing forward, you put your hands on the bed’s frame to steady yourself, anticipation filling your mind and making you salivate.

“Are you ready, kitten?” he said, licking your neck, his hands set on your waist.

“I always am for you, my love,” you panted out, your face turning to put your cheek against his head, your eyes closing in a relaxed bliss.

The pet name felt so intimate now, your closeness not only physical anymore: it was as if your souls were intertwined, sharing space inside your bodies. For the first time in centuries, you felt full. Your body not just an empty husk, but a body worth living in. A body worth caring for. A body worth loving.

Sylus tenderly kissed your neck, lifting you enough to position your hole over his aching cock using the hands on your waist. You felt it enter you slowly, the ridges deliciously grazing your walls that were clenching down on him.

Soft grunts left your dragon’s mouth since it took all his willpower to not bottom out and fuck you relentlessly as he wished, cherishing too much this slow moment you two were sharing.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, he started to thrust, easing his cock inside you so deliciously you were almost destroying the bed frame by the sheer force of your hands gripping it.

As he bottomed out, you could feel his second penis slide between your asscheeks as his precum drenched you completely inside and out, his excitement showing through his possessive chuffing against your neck.

His thrusts were picking up the pace, your body bouncing on his lap as he bit and licked your pulse points, his need to penetrate you with his fangs too was so strong his gums were aching, “What you’ve made me become kitten,” he said as he grazed his fangs against your sensitive neck, making you shiver, “A lust crazed beast living only for your touch.”

And he bit down, the sweet flavour of your desire filling his mouth.

You let out a loud moan, the pleasure his calculated thrusts were giving you, mixed with the numbness of the blood loss, were making you feel on cloud nine: this was everything you wanted, but something was missing, and you knew exactly what. You needed to feel him with your hands too.

As his mouth was still on your neck, sucking, licking, biting, bruising, you laid your head on his shoulders and grabbed his horns, stroking them in tandem with his thrusts.

This made Sylus bite you a little harder, thrust inside a little deeper, growling noises leaving his mouth a little louder as he was nearing his end, just like you were.

His hands on your waist gripped tighter, claws scratching flesh and drawing blood that dripped down your thighs. Oh, how you loved him desperate, the telltale of his approaching orgasm making you desperate for release too.

And you weren’t far from it.

A particularly calculated thrust hit your sweet spot and, along with his continuous blood sucking, it made you topple over the edge, falling down that delicious pleasure precipice you were aching to feel.

“Oh Sylus, my dragon,” you said, your voice almost a whisper as your strength was slowly leaving you, making space for bliss, the hands on his horns keeping his head near yours, his laboured breath heavy on your neck as this was enough for him to cum, his knot ready to enter you just as you liked “My beloved creature,” he panted out, “Can I?”

To reply, you eagerly nodded while your core clenched on his cock, as if you were trying to milk him of all his semen, as if you couldn’t let it go to waste.

One last harsh thrust eased the knot inside you, the loud moan that left you didn’t go unnoticed by him as his smaller cock squirted out clear strings of liquid, spent by the force of his orgasm.

Your hands caressed his horns slowly, but red tendrils of mist stopped you, “Please kitten, they’re sensitive,” he panted out as you let out a tired giggle.

What wonderful information for future usage.

Strong arms enveloping you as he changed positions, now you two were laying sideways on the bed, light satin blanked pulled up to cover your frames, his cock shifting deliciously inside you with every movement.

With your eyes closed, you opted to stroke his hair instead, threading your finger between his soft silver locks as you two basked in the aftermath of your passion, your head rested on the pillow as he put an arm under your neck. He kissed your head, hugging you with such care and love you thought you had never felt better in your life.

You wanted to encapsulate this moment in your heart, locking it away and cherishing it every day until the end of time.

Soft breaths moved your hair, the telltale of the dragon’s slumber having caught up with him, his tail enveloping you and keeping you impossibly close.

You loved moments like this, moments in which you were full of him, in body and heart.

You were looking into Tartarus’ void, the souls trapped there calling for you to join them in their punishment, the loudest one being Sylus’.

It was as if you were diving into the abyss.

Into the unknown.

But oh, how you loved it.

Your favourite soul was there after all, waiting for you to join him.

As Orpheus grasped your hand to take you with him, sleep clouding your mind, you thought you loved your life now.

You loved how you were able to live every day with passion and experiencing life to the fullest.

You loved how every moment was worth remembering.

But, most importantly,

“I love you, my Sylus,” you muttered for the first time, half asleep.

“I love you too, kitten,” was his soft reply.

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ author's note: thank you for reading it!! i hope you liked it at least half of how much i’ve liked writing it

likes and comments are really appreciated ♡

── 𑣿・⸝⸝ click to find my masterlist

[tenderbeck]

I love dragons

[tenderbeck]

[tenderbeck]

➵ 𓊆ᴍʏ sᴛᴀʀ𓊇

stalker Xavier au!

possessive behavior, obsession, jealousy,  a little spicy

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Xavier ]

Chapter 1

Xavier has always been a good friend to you. He was kind and polite, and he didn’t talk much, but the both of you always managed to keep the conversation going. Besides being colleagues at the Hunters Association, you two were also neighbors, so you spent a lot of time together, which, consequently, formed a closer bond between you and him.

You’ve considered Xavier one of your best friends for a while now. You started to talk more when you were on missions together, and a couple of months later, you were planning movie nights and picnics on days the color of the sky was bluer than his eyes. Since his apartment was directly above yours, you would visit each other almost every day to play video games or order takeout. Sometimes, Xavier would fall asleep on your couch while you two watched a movie, but he looked so peaceful when dreaming that you could never muster the courage to wake him up. You’ve talked to him once about it, saying that he didn’t have to leave and that he could stay the night, so that you two could have breakfast together in the morning.

“It’s ok, I can always come downstairs to have breakfast with you anyway,” Xavier responded mid-yawn. You didn’t want to insist too much because, for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable staying the night. Once, you even asked him if your sofa was too uncomfortable to sleep on, but it was all in vain.

You two became so close that you gave each other the spare keys to your apartments in case of an emergency or if you just wanted to hang out: no one else had a spare key to your home, so this meant a lot to you. To be honest, you were glad Xavier was the one with it. You trusted him with your life - quite literally, since you were each other's partners in missions and he had saved you multiple times from a Wanderer that got too close.

You knew he would never betray your trust.

Since you’ve been doing extra hours that week, Captain Jenna let you go home earlier that day, and as you were walking home, you came across a civilian whom you had saved from a Wanderers’ attack a few weeks back: he was fully recovered now and seemed to be in good health. As you were walking, he stopped to greet you and thank you for saving him and his wife. It was nothing but a normal exchange of words with this stranger, whose name you didn’t even know. You must have been talking to him for no more than five minutes when suddenly your phone vibrated.

“Are U on Ur way home now? Its nice outside, we can chill on the balcony and enjoy the sun until dinner :)”

It was a text from Xavier. Odd. You hadn’t told him you were getting off work early. Your plan had been to swing by the bakery beneath your apartment, pick up a few snacks, and surprise him with a little impromptu picnic once you got home. You were sure of that - you hadn’t said a word to him about it. You pushed aside the confusion bubbling up and chalked it up to a possibility: maybe he’d heard something from Nero, Simone, or Tara. Though that in itself felt unlikely - Xavier never spent time with anyone from the association besides you. But maybe he was finally starting to open up… stepping out of his shell a little. Right?

When you got to your apartment complex, you texted Xavier saying that you’ll just take a quick shower, and when you were done, you would go immediately upstairs and meet him so you two could hang out. Before you got into the shower, you checked your phone. No response from Xavier, but beneath your text bubble you could see the word “read”. Xavier always replied to your texts, even just to say a simple “ok”, but maybe he was busy and couldn’t reply right now. 

At least, he knew you were home. 

After drying yourself and putting on clean clothes, you checked your phone again: no notifications from Xavier. As you opened the door of your bathroom, you heard commotion coming from your kitchen. The rattle of plates and cups could be heard, along with very soft footsteps, as if a 6-foot bunny was walking around the apartment. Your hunter’s gun wasn’t around: seriously, who takes a gun with them when showering? You looked around. What could be used to protect yourself? 

As you stepped outside the bathroom, holding your hairdryer like a baseball bat, you tiptoed your way to the corner that would lead to the kitchen. You smelled something. Was the intruder eating the food you just bought? Your mind was running in circles, but you had no time to spare. As you turned the corner, ready to attack whoever was in your house if needed, you immediately stopped as you saw a blonde-haired man moving the food from your kitchen counter to your balcony.

“Xavier?”

He stopped mid-step. Startled, your dear neighbor was in your house holding a tray with all the food you got with both of his hands. 

“Hi, sorry. I wanted to prepare a surprise for you.” 

He said, in a nervous laugh, a light red color tinting his ears. 

“I saw you arriving from my balcony before receiving your text. And you looked so exhausted, I wanted to do something special. I just thought I could be faster than you.”

“How did you know I brought food with me? You can’t see the bakery from your balcony.”

“You didn’t send me the text right away as you got here, so I figured you had something up your sleeve.”

He said, slowly making his way to your balcony to put down the tray.

All the worries left your body as you took a deep breath. It was just Xavier wanting to do something nice for you, and you couldn’t even get mad at him for scaring you when he had the most adorable, shy expression on his face. All you could do was let out a light giggle as you looked at him, since you caught him red-handed. 

Xavier was always very thoughtful with you, and you couldn’t help but notice the special attention he gave only to you. Maybe it was because you two were partners or neighbors. Whatever it was, you enjoyed it more than you liked to admit. 

You helped Xavier move the rest of the food and drinks to the balcony, as well as some pillows and blankets. After a day of work, this was all you needed (and wanted): a peaceful end to your day with someone you could just let your guard down.

Chapter 2

Since that day you encountered the civilian you had saved, you could feel a lingering presence everywhere you went. No, that’s a lie. You’ve felt this presence before, just not as regularly as you felt it now. It was starting to make you feel paranoid.

“It’s just the lack of sleep, calm down. Plus, you have your hunter’s gun; nothing can hurt you.”

This was what you told yourself. For weeks now, that’s what you kept repeating in your head on your way to work and back home, except on the days Xavier was with you. You felt safe around him, and maybe that feeling was just in your head because every time you were with Xavier, you didn’t feel the shadow creeping in the distance. But on the days you were walking alone, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It’s not that you felt better at home, if you thought about it. Recently, you started to receive random letters mixed with the rest of your mail. These were short and printed out, and put inside a blank envelope. Yes, blank because neither your address nor the sender’s were ever on these.

The first one you got, you thought it was a prank. “Ill never let U go” was written on it. You found it weird, but with no idea of who it was from, all you could do was ignore it. Then, there was a second blank envelope in your mailbox three days later. It read: “Ive searched for U for so long, and I have finally found U, my star.” Alright, now this one made you feel unsettled. What did this mean? Who could have been searching for you?

“My star?”

You said out loud, surprised by how loud your voice sounded in the deep silence that was your apartment. Again, you decided to ignore it, but this time you kept this letter in a drawer. Something about it didn’t seem right, and you had a gut feeling you should keep hold of it, just in case. Several days had now passed, and you had the drawer filled with these anonymous letters. You told yourself you would look into these, but lately, you just didn’t have the time; the past few weeks, you were either fighting Wanderers or sleeping. 

It was a Tuesday morning when you arrived at the association, breathless. Lately, you started walking faster whenever you were alone, not that you meant to. You barely noticed the quickened pace until you reached your destination. It was pure instinct now. By this point, everyone at work had noticed how you always showed up with your lungs gasping for air. Still, you always had an excuse ready - your alarm didn’t go off, the subway was late, something or other. Thankfully, your coworkers had stopped asking. You were running out of believable lies.

It was a boring day at the association: there were no missions, just a pile of reports on top of your desk that you had been procrastinating on filing out for weeks. As you got to your seat, fanning your face with your hands as the sweat from almost running to work streamed down your face, you noticed a huge bouquet of blue Forget-Me-Not flowers. You stopped, alarmed, as you looked around the office.

“It was already here when I arrived, it looks like someone has a secret admirer!”

Nero said with a teasing tone in his voice. You shifted your gaze from him to the flowers, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Although you were sweating, you felt a chill run down your spine. You tried to say something, but you were still trying to catch your breath. There was a card attached to this unexpected gift.

“To my star. I hope U won’t ever forget me.”

“My star? Again?” you murmured. There was no signature. You flipped the card, but nothing, just the name of the flower shop. The handwriting didn’t tell you anything about who this could be from, but you recognized the writing style. Hesitant, you put the card inside your bag.

You nodded your head, trying to shake off your anxiety. 

“It’s from a civilian I saved a while ago. I ran into him the other day, he and his wife just want to thank me.”

You said, forcing a smile and trying to calm your trembling hands. Even if it was that man, you couldn’t deal with gossip at the moment about you having a secret admirer, you were already as stressed as one can be, and you needed to focus on today’s tasks. Plus, the man was married, you wouldn’t feed into this if it truly was him. But you knew it wasn’t him. You had no evidence, you just knew.

You stretched in your office chair as it was already lunchtime without you realizing it.  Although you had spent the whole morning sitting down filling out reports, your whole body was sore, as if you had just spent the last four hours fighting Wanderers.

You glanced out the window - the weather was beautiful that day, clear and inviting - so you decided to have lunch in the park near the association. Once there, you settled onto a bench, waiting for Tara to join you. Children darted across the grass in bursts of laughter, dogs chased each other in wide circles, and elderly couples basked in the warmth of the sun, hands intertwined and soft smiles. If only you could stay there all day, soaking in the peace, without a single care in the world.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of spring. As you opened your eyes, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You could’ve sworn that you had just seen someone hiding behind a tree a couple of feet away from you: it was as fast as lightning, but you did see a tall, muscled figure moving. You swallowed your saliva; it was at this moment that you noticed how dry your mouth had gotten. Until now, you had managed to forget about all the nonsense that had been happening. You tried to ignore what you just saw, or what you thought you saw. But your eyes were fixated on the tree, waiting for any movement. Whoever it was had to step away and leave, right? 

But you were growing impatient. Without breaking eye contact with your target, you rose to your feet and slowly made your way toward the tree. You were exhausted - tense, on edge - but you needed to know. You had to prove to yourself that you weren’t imagining things. Steadying your breath, you stepped around the trunk, bracing yourself for whatever - or whoever - was waiting on the other side.

“Hey! Thank you for waiting for me. I was not expecting to take so long, but I reeaaallyy needed to finish my report on last week’s mission. Is everything ok?”

You looked behind you, Tara was walking in your direction, waving at you. No, not now. You turned around again, but there was nothing, or you should say no one, behind the tree. In disbelief, you almost lost your balance, making Tara reach for you. 

“Hey Tara. Sorry for the weird question, but on your way here, did you see someone behind this tree?”

Still grabbing your arm to keep you in place, Tara looked at you as if you had asked her if the sky was blue or if the grass was green.

“Uhhh, no. I didn’t see anyone. Why? Did you plan to meet with someone here?”

Chapter 3

Tara was the only one you’d confided in about the shadow that had been following you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your other friends - Xavier, for instance - but Tara had been the one to reach out. One day, she simply asked what was really going on. She mentioned how she, like everyone else, had noticed the deepening bags under your eyes. They all had - it was hard not to. Some of your peers even joked about it. But Tara saw more. She sensed it wasn’t just exhaustion or work stress. She knew something else was wrong. Thus, one day while the two of you were hanging out in your apartment, just the two of you, you told her everything. 

You opened up to her about the unease that had been gnawing at you - the constant feeling of being watched. How every time you got home, you compulsively checked that the front door, balcony, and windows were locked, sometimes more than once. You spoke of the sleepless nights, how your body tossed and turned as much as your restless mind. You told Tara about the anonymous letters that had started to show up, the bouquets delivered to your workplace like clockwork each week, and the strange morning ritual: how an employee from the bakery downstairs would hand you a coffee just before you left for your, always with the same message - someone had ordered it for you, a gift.

“And believe me, I’ve asked countless times if the employees know who this person is, and they always give me the same answer: this random person puts an envelope in the bakery’s mailbox with the order’s name and money inside saying to give it to the “hunter lady that leaves for work at seven forty in the morning”. Once, I asked one of the girls who works there if she could show me the letter if they still had it, but that didn’t do anything because it was a printed-out letter. She told me every letter was the same, I guess the person just prints out the same thing over and over again. And it has to be the same person who keeps sending me the letters and the bouquets because look at this.”

You got up, went to your room, and took out all the letters from your drawer as well as the stack of florist cards that always accompanied the Forget-Me-Nots. You held out both stacks of papers you had now in your hands. Then, from inside your bag, you took the letter that the employee in the coffee shop gave you this morning. You showed your friend who sat next to you how, although you couldn’t get any clues from the handwriting itself, they had to be from the same person by the way some words were spelled.

“See how they spell 'you' the same way? And how they never use any apostrophes? Plus, they call me ‘their star’. None of these help me figure out who this person is because almost everyone writes like this when they’re texting a friend, and no one ever called me ‘star’ before.

At first, I didn’t think much about the letters, but I kept asking myself why they didn’t even have my address written down. And then I figured it out. They don’t need to write down the address because this person puts them directly in my mailbox.”

You could feel yourself getting more agitated. You didn’t know what to do. A sense of claustrophobia was starting to become part of your day-to-day life by constantly feeling like you’re being watched. It wasn’t just paranoia anymore - it was persistent, like a shadow that never quite left, no matter how many lights you turned on. Every creak of the floorboards, every flicker in your peripheral vision, sent your heart racing. Even silence felt loud, oppressive. Your own home had begun to feel like a cage, the walls somehow closer than they used to be. You kept catching yourself glancing over your shoulder, expecting to see something there… but there never was. Just the chilling certainty that something - or someone - was always a step behind.

 Nothing was making sense. Who wants to get to you? Who was willing to give you this much attention? The dedication was commendable - unsettling, even. It wasn’t just a prank or some passing obsession. Everything had been calculated. Methodical. Someone had invested their time, effort, and precision. And for what? 

After an hour or so of throwing theories at each other, you and Tara decided it was best to talk to someone at the association who could help you decipher this mystery. Maybe they could see something in the letters that you two didn’t. Despite it all, Tara made sure you knew you had her support and that you would get to the bottom of this.

She left, and you were now alone in your apartment. At least, you should feel that you were alone. You were in the place where you should feel the safest. Nothing can hurt you inside your own home, right?

You were about the go check if you had locked the front door when the doorbell rang.

*Ding* 

Chapter 4

This startled you, and you hated how much it startled you. You were a hunter, and not just any random hunter; you were part of the Unicorn sector, who were rigorously selected by Captain Jenna and other higher-ups. Plus, you had been awarded as “hunter of the year” just a few months ago. You couldn’t let something as minuscule as a doorbell affect you this easily. That just couldn’t happen.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to glance at the peephole, but when you did, there was no one outside. How was there no one on the other side of your apartment door? The doorbell doesn’t ring by itself, and you were sure you heard it. 

As you were about to turn, suddenly two hands grabbed you. It was so fast you almost tripped, but a tight embrace held you in place. You felt one arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest. Whoever it was, was pressing your body against theirs. You could feel every heartbeat, every inhale and every exhale this person took. Your hunter’s instincts kicked in, you pushed them forward, making them flip over you, but instead of making them fall onto the ground, they landed on their feet. You were about to kick them when they blocked your movement, grabbing your foot. Raising their eyes at you, you finally saw who it was.

“Xavier?”

Your eyes must have been deceiving you. What was Xavier doing in your apartment? Wait, how was Xavier in your apartment if every door and window were locked?

He raised his hands, his big blue eyes looking at you as innocent as ever. 

“You didn’t answer your texts, I was worried about you.”

You knew that wasn’t the reason, or at least, the main reason why he was there.

“Explain yourself, Xavier. That reply won’t do.”

You had your wrists raised, ready to attack whenever. Your mind was running in circles, you were still trying to catch your breath, even if you had barely moved. Your heart was beating faster than ever before, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins. But Xavier was faster, before you realized he was behind you again, this time pressing you even tighter against himself, you could feel every inch of his body by how close you two were. You tried to get yourself free, fighting with all the strength you had, but to no avail. Xavier spun you around, pinning you against the wall. He grabbed both of your wrists, holding them above your head, one of his knees keeping you in place. Stuck between him and the wall, his forehead was against yours, your breaths mixing together. He was panting, his breath unstable, but, at the same time, Xavier looked as calm as ever. 

“Please behave. No need to attack me. Aren’t we supposed to be partners?”

He wasn’t looking at you, but you could see how his soft blue eyes, which you always compared to the clear blue skies of a warm spring day, the eyes that always looked at you like you were brighter than all the stars in the universe, were now looking at you with the hunger of a starving ocean where waves fight with the wind, a fight with no winners. 

Xavier looked at you like you were his next meal, like a famished carnivorous animal who’s been starving for months, days on end, looking for something to satiate his needs. But there was only one thing that could satisfy him. You.

Chapter 5

You and Xavier stayed in that position for a while, neither of you dared to move. You could feel the heat coming from his body, radiating in waves that made it hard to focus on anything else. The sweat running down his neck caught your eye, a single bead tracing the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. His whole body was tense, muscles coiled beneath his skin like he was holding something back - barely using any force on you, yet every inch of him vibrating with restrained energy. 

“Xavier, what’s going on?”

Your voice was shaking, just as your whole body. Seeing Xavier like this was definitely something new - intense, unsettling, and something else you didn’t want to name just yet. His gaze flicked to yours, dark and unreadable, and it held you there. Not aggressively. Not even deliberately. Just… completely. Like he’d stepped into your space and taken the air with him. 

You could hear your own pulse now - fast, loud in your ears - and still, neither of you moved. It was like the moment itself had thickened, pulled tight around the edges. There was a current between you, humming quietly under the surface, electric and confusing. You weren’t sure if he was about to walk away or pull you closer. And honestly, you weren’t sure which would be more enticing. 

Amid the chaos of a million thoughts racing through both your minds, you laughed. It started as a small, involuntary giggle - something you’d been desperately trying to suppress since the moment Xavier first pulled you into him. But once it slipped out, there was no stopping it. The tension broke like a dam. You were laughing so hard that tears welled in your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. And every time you glanced at Xavier, his wide-eyed, bewildered expression frozen in a perfect mix of shock and concern, it only set you off again. It was absurd. It was cathartic. And for the first time in a while, it felt like relief. When you finally got a hold of yourself, a flicker of red poison could be seen in your eyes when looking at him, a smirk on your lips as the perfect accessory.

“Oh, please, Xavier. You really didn’t think I knew it was you from the beginning? You were so obvious with everything, I knew you wanted me to find out. I knew you felt a thrill inside you just thinking about it. That’s why I dragged it for so long, I wanted to make you wait. I wanted you desperate. And you fell right into my trap.”

Now it was Xavier who had agitation in his eyes. He stared at you as if your confession had short-circuited something in him, like he couldn’t quite process what you had just said. And seeing him like that - stunned, caught off guard - brought you a quiet simmering satisfaction. This was the moment you’d been waiting for.

Yes, he had been meticulous. Calculated. Always two steps ahead. But not as much as you. 

You’d known from the moment he appeared in your apartment, carefully arranging your balcony picnic, that something was off. You could feel it - the way everything was too deliberate, how he had the answers to your questions on the tip of his tongue, as if he had rehearsed them. You knew he’d been waiting. Watching. You knew he had been waiting for you to leave work, that he saw you talking to that civilian. That was why he texted, urging you to come home. You could almost picture it: the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers hovered over his phone, how he must have almost run to you and pushed you away from that man who dared speak to you, look at you. You knew the reason he didn’t reply to the text you sent when you got home was because he was too impatient even to waste a second replying to it when he could just go and see you, be with you. 

Xavier never handled jealousy well. You noticed it every time - how his mood soured when another man spoke to you, how his eyes tracked you with an intensity that bordered on possessiveness. He could try to mask it with charm, with quiet restraint, but the truth always leaked through the cracks. And you knew, eventually, he would break. And he had.

You loved teasing Xavier. That’s all it was - or at least, that’s what you told yourself. There was something about his possessiveness that lit a spark in you, something that made your skin hum with anticipation. No one had ever been this clingy, this attentive, this obsessed - and you adored every second of it. That’s why you kept the letters. The cards that came with the flowers. Little mementos of his desperation. That’s why you kept accepting the coffee deliveries from the bakery downstairs, always smiling as you told the employees, “It’s from my friend Xavier,” just so the girls wouldn’t ask too many questions.

It was all part of the game. Like the drinks you planned with colleagues from the association - not because you craved the company, but because you wanted an excuse. A reason to flirt a little too much with some random guy, just enough to set Xavier off. You lived for that look on his face, the one that flared just before he’d drag you away and insist you “go home”. 

You knew exactly how to push his buttons. That’s why every time you and Xavier watched a movie on your days off, you’d pretend to fall asleep - just so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Every time, without fail, you’d feel the subtle shift in his body, the way he tensed, the way something in him quite literally grew from even the softest, most innocent contact. You always had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling. 

God, it was adorable - how hard he tried to hide it. How impossible it was for him to pretend he didn’t feel exactly what you knew he did. 

Now that you were really looking at him, you had him exactly where you wanted - stunned and speechless. His grip on your wrists had loosened but you stayed in place, knowing exactly what that sight did to him. Your smirk was still in place. Even you couldn’t hide your satisfaction anymore, and the heat pooling between your legs was becoming impossible to ignore. Patience was running thin. 

“So…how does it feel to have the light shine on you, my star?”

[tenderbeck]

I know he’s got a thing for legs 😌

P.S. Don’t try this in real life 🙅‍♀️stay focused when you’re driving