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akutagawatomie · 1 month ago

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i would like to propose an idea: pervert xavier and pervert zayne🫡

pervert!zayne & pervert!xavier (seperate)

━ .ᐟ✧ A/N: u stop that right now.....well anyways thx for inspiring me. took a break from sylus beyond cloudfall smut to write this. ENJOY (also i did nothing at work bc i was writing this if i get fired its ur fault sksksksk). also this is not proofread at all

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, male masturbation, perv!zayne, using panties without consent, using photos for masturbation without consent, stealing panties, masturbating in a public setting

Zayne slumps into his office chair, massaging his temples, exhausted after a 15 hour surgery. He smiles when he pulls out his cellphone, seeing several text messages from you.

[7:15 PM] Y/N: Miss you Zayne! Good luck in surgery!

[10:28 PM] Y/N: I'm getting sleepy, I hope you aren't. That would be horribly negligent ( •̀ - •́ )

[12:32 AM] Y/N: Going to sleep now, good night. I love you Zayne!

[12:32 AM] Y/N: (1 image attachment)

Zayne sighs when he opens the image you'd sent. It's an adorable photo of you under the covers, your sleepy smile illuminating the screen. You're wearing the matching PJ set he'd bought you recently, your eyes squinting from the camera flash as you make a ridiculous duckface. A kiss goodnight.

It's nothing but beautiful, pure, and innocent.

But then why was his cock so fucking painfully hard against the elastic drawstring of his scrubs?

"Sh-shit."

The raven haired surgeon glances at the time. 3:15 AM. There's no way you'd be awake.

His jaw tenses as he battles with what he knows is right and what he knows is wrong. It would be wrong to pleasure himself to the panties he'd stolen from your hamper, that he kept hidden away in the locked drawer of his office desk, that you had no idea he'd taken, right?

Surely, it would be okay. You were his girlfriend, after all. And he spent every waking minute of his life cherishing and protecting you. He'd never hurt you.

Screw it.

He lightly kicks off the ground, his office chair rolling over to the locked drawer of his office desk. With one hand, he's desperately undoing the ties of his scrub bottoms, the other hand fervently unlocking the locked drawer.

As soon as he frees his aching cock, already leaking and ready, he pulls the bottom of his scrub top up, placing the hem between his teeth. His patience wears thin, fingers already beginning to stroke himself before he even has your panties in his other hand.

With one hand, he holds his cellphone out so he can stare at the selfie you'd sent him, your beautiful and innocent face staring back at him.

Fuck, just the sight of your face was enough to get him off.

Zayne's other hand fumbles desperately until they finally meet the delicate lace material of the panties he'd kept hidden away in his office for several weeks now, but never had the audacity to use. He pulls them out with a shaky arm, draping them over his leaking cock.

The sight of the beautiful black lace against his pale aching skin sets him off, his fingers tightening around his shaft and jerking up and down.

"Y/N," he moans unabashedly, nearly forgetting he's still at the hospital. Your beautiful face fills his mind. Your eyes, your blush, your lips.

How beautiful would your lips look wrapped around his cock right now? How good would it feel if it was your lips enveloping around him right now and not his fingers?

"Y-Y/N," Zayne rasps, "I love you." He fists himself viciously, the wet sounds of his fist meeting his shaved pelvis ringing around his tidy and empty office. He wraps your panties around himself, letting the silky material heighten his pleasure, remembering how those panties looked when he pulled them off of you with his teeth.

He moans at the perverted thoughts, muffled from his teeth still gripping onto his scrubs to give him better access to pleasure himself.

It'd been a while since he'd been able to see you, your hectic schedules having conflicted for the past few days. Zayne missed you so terribly. Of course, he longed for the physical intimacy. The way you knew just how to touch him, to kiss him, to shake him to his core without even knowing it.

But more than anything, he missed how you you would look at him, smile at him and remind him why he was breathing.

"Fuck," he curses through his gritted teeth, "I love you so fucking much." Unable to hold himself back, his hips begin to buck up into his fist, and at this point he's basically fucking his palm that's clad with your used panties.

He tosses his phone onto his desk, needing to grip onto the arm of the chair to keep it in place with how vigorously his pelvis is rolling into his fist.

"J-Just like that, my love," he moans, fully losing his mind, imagining you on his lap, riding him in this very office.

At his breaking point, he throws all remaining sensibility to the wind, letting all lust take over. He grabs your panties and brings them to his nose, taking a lung full of your scent. Zayne's eyes roll back as your pheromones evade his senses, and he comes undone explosively all over his desk.

His motions slow to a halt as his brain finally clears. He slowly releases his aching cock, his scarred hands absolutely dripping in his cum and he lets out a broken sigh.

Guiltily, he sets your panties back down and cleans up his mess. It's not until moments later, as he's carefully placing it back into the locked drawer, that he realizes his orgasm was so powerful that some of it had shot onto the delicate black lace.

Zayne grimaces as he wipes his cum off of your panties, thoroughly upset with himself having ruined something so precious to him.

Surely, you wouldn't miss another pair. Right?

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, male masturabation, perv!xavier, using pillow/bed without consent, pillow humping, phone sex without consent?, implied pre-relationship xavier

I shouldn't.

That's what Xavier told himself.

But she said I could.

That was all the convincing it took for Xavier to push the door of your room open, excitement taking over as he took in the surroundings of your empty bedroom.

It'd only been one week since you'd been sent away on a Hunter's expedition and he was going insane. As your partner, he'd normally be sent with you, but the Association had asked him to stay behind as they needed to split up the manpower this time around.

And of course, you'd asked him to come over and house sit. Water your plants, bring in the mail, open up some windows.

He sat on the edge of your bed, letting his fingers glide off the smooth fabric of your comforter.

God, he missed you.

He can't stop himself from flopping over, letting his hair hit your pillow. You had said it'd be okay for him to stay over if he ever needed to. But that was months ago. And you probably didn't mean in your bed.

He can't find it in himself to sit back up as your scent fills his nostrils, with his face so close to your pillow. Xavier looks up at the ceiling.

So this is where you sleep. This was what you saw when you fell asleep every night. When you dreamt. Did you dream of him? Did you think of him like he thought of you?

God it smells just like you.

No, he shouldn't.

Xavier shifts to his side, fully intending on getting up. But your pheromones are so overpowering that he finds his face fully buried in your pillow.

"Y/N..." he groans, "I miss you." Xavier moans as he feels the familiar ache growing in his crotch. The situation he's put himself in doesn't help at all, your smell only making him more sensitive, the precariousness of his position in your bed making him more excitable.

Xavier shifts, the angle of his erection becoming painful as it continues to harden into the plush of your mattress. But that only makes things worse, the friction of his subtle movements making his eyes roll.

"Fuck, baby," he whimpers into your pillow, his cheeks burning with shame. He grabs two fistfuls of your comforter to try and steady his irregular breathing and calm himself down.

But he's much too far gone.

Xavier rolls his hips into your bed, chasing more friction, more pleasure.

"Hah—hah," he pants, practically drooling into your pillow, "Y/N..." But it's not enough. With one hand, he reaches down, undoing his pants and reaching in to free his cock. It springs free, pressing nakedly into the soft fabric of your bed.

He humps into your bed, his precum smearing messily into your comforter, but he can't find it in himself to care.

But it's still not enough. He wanted you.

With one hand, he grabs your pillow, throwing it under his hips and between his thighs. The perverted thought of your beautiful face resting on that same pillow that he’s so desperately fucking into, without a single clue, drives him utterly insane.

Xavier’s hips rock erratically into your pillow, his cock jerking against the soft fabric of your pillow case. With every stroke, he continues to leak messily, as if purposely marking his territory, wanting to leave pieces of himself behind.

“Feels–ngh–so good angel,” he moans into your blanket, his hips bucking wildly now, pretending they were thrusting into you, pounding into your perfect ass.

“All mine,” he slurs, delirious, nearly about to cum into your pillow, “You’re mine, Y/N.”

But then his phone rings, the vibrations violently interrupting his impending orgasm.

Xavier freezes, seeing your face light up his screen. He fumbles with his phone, struggling to press the red button.

Decline. Decline.

“Xavier?”

Shit.

“H-Hey Y/N.”

Xavier groans inwardly, cursing himself, his heart pounding. But the sound of your voice only makes him harder, needier.

“How’s it going? I’m coming home tomorrow! You miss me?”

“It’s going good,” he says breathlessly, his hips continue to move, no matter how much he knows he should stop. Somehow, being on the phone with you only excites him more, the pleasure growing immeasurably unbearable.

“You okay?”

Your voice sounds concerned, and Xavier’s heart hammers at the idea that you can tell something is up. Is his voice too shaky?

“No, I’m good. Why?” Xavier bites his lip to hold back a moan, your voice driving him to the point of madness. With your voice in his ear, it’s impossible not to imagine your face in his mind. Your face, taking his cock repeatedly. Your face, cumming on his cock. Your face, taking him down your throat. Your face, calling out his name.

“Xavier.”

Xavier’s eyes widen as you call out his name, biting the inside of cheek until he can taste the metallic rust of blood in his mouth.

“I miss you!”

His hips falter as he comes undone, exploding all over your bed. His hips continue to roll, his body naturally riding out his orgasm, his fingers gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“I-I miss you–too,” Xavier rasps, doing his damn best to keep his voice steady, praying to the stars that you don’t suspect anything. His body continues to fuck into your bed instinctually, his mind still filled with images of you under him, begging for mercy as you leak his cum.

“Okay, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

The call disconnects with a beep and Xaveir finally releases the breath he’d been holding, his entire body shaking with violent gasps. He props himself on his elbows, his entire body quivering, to glance down at the mess he’d created.

Xavier can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty, as he thinks about the fact that he can finally see you tomorrow.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or other sites

.ᐟ✦ please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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akutagawatomie · 1 month ago

Text

wine

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: in which sylus is obsessed with your lips.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating because i like tormenting him like that), alcohol consumption, horny sylus (not smut tho), suggestive themes, mentions of violence and blood, and LOTS of cussing.

a/n: i told myself i wouldn't write anything until i finish finals but sylus won. i'm also avoiding his myth spoilers since i didn't pull his pair yet. enjoy reading! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

sylus wants to kiss you right now. he wants to kiss you so fucking badly, it hurts.

you can't blame the man. you looked absolutely delectable right now. hair up, ears jeweled, eyes hooded, and back bared, oh, you looked so good in the dress he handpicked for you; he could just devour you whole and leave nothing to spare.

and he would have no remorse for doing so either. the auction you two were at was filled with fucking nobodies. how dare they look at you, let alone breathe the same air as you? he's lost count of how many times he felt the urge to just demolish this shithole of a place.

sylus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. he knows he's being irrational. after all, he was the one who suggested you two attend this auction. you showed interest in an old manuscript that just so happened to be available only at this auction, and he would be damned if he didn't get you everything you could ever want. hell, you could even ask him for his heart, and he would tear it out of his cold chest, deliver it to your divine feet, get on his fucking knees, and beg for you to demand more of him.

so, actually, you can blame him for the situation he is in. he was the one who picked the set you're wearing right now oh so ravishingly. he was the one who brought you to this stupid auction that's taking so long to get on with it already—where the fuck is the manuscript? but most importantly, he was the one who made your lips look so damn kissable right now.

he knew what he was doing when he picked your lipstick for you. deep scarlet that would match his eyes and look good on you. but he never thought it would look this good on you. sylus curses under his breath, feeling his pants tighten around his crotch after remembering you bent over the sink to gaze at the mirror and paint your lips. he recalls how it took him everything not to stride over to you, spin you around, and slam his lips onto yours, hoping to get a smear of that majestic shade.

oh, but it wasn't just the shade of your lips that drove him crazy. it was the texture, too. you must've been feeling heated because you go to take another sip of the wine in your hand. the matted, creamy lip print you leave on the glass has the silver-haired man inhaling sharply and tightening his grip on the table. what he would give to have such a work of art printed on him instead. he wants it all over him. his face, his neck, his fingertips, his cock—everywhere until no single part of him was unmarked by your luscious lips. until there was no room to even question who he belonged to.

that's how badly sylus wants to kiss you right now. but he stops himself using the single thread of patience he has left. yes, the two of you were technically alone, standing at the table in the far back. thank god he reserved a table just for the two of you so only he could marvel at your lip-stained glass. no one would interrupt if the two of you were to just have a full-blown make-out session right now.

but sylus knew better. he knew that you were still wary of him. this, you can blame him. after all, he's not a saint. his entire being is smothered in blood, down to the very tip of his designer shoes. he built his lavish empire of protocores and guns from the taking of lives. hell, he even threatened you the first time you met. though, he only did that to push you to your full potential. he could never truly harm you. but sylus knows you. you, in your most beautiful human form, who dwells not only on the past but also on the lives of others. you, whose empathy is so strong, sylus can't help but admire, even though he sometimes wishes you would just let loose and bring hell upon all those who dare to cross you. thus, your continued, empathy-driven wariness of him. but, sylus knows how to compromise. he's okay with being the one with bloodied hands and fucked-up morals so long as it means seeing you, even if it means from afar. besides, you haven't reported him to your little hunter friends yet. he supposes that's a start, and he could settle with that. he could also settle with this:

"is the wine to your liking, sweetie?" he asks smoothly.

you flinch, taken aback by sylus' sudden question. you were wondering when he would stop staring at you and actually start paying attention to the auction. not that you mind having sylus' eyes on you. it's just that the borderline depraved look in his crimson eyes was making you feel all hot inside and you really wanted to stop feeling all hot inside whenever you were near him, let alone thinking about him.

"uh yeah," you nervously chuckle, setting the glass down. "it's better than i thought." you turn your gaze to a waiter nearby, hoping to get a glass for sylus since he seemed so interested in yours for some reason. "here, let me get one for you too."

you try to catch the waiter's attention by raising your right hand, but sylus stops you. he grasps your hand with his left and rests it on the table. you furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering why he stopped you. sylus, the man who appreciates (that's the nicest way you can describe it) alcohol passing a chance at a complimentary drink? you're utterly confused.

"no need," sylus gives a gentle squeeze, trying to ease your confusion. though, you're not prepared for what happens next.

sylus picks up your glass with his free hand, plants his lips on your lip print, and takes a slow sip. your eyes widen, feeling the heat that was coiling in your stomach spread all around your tense body. holy shit, did he just—?

the aggravating godsend of a man next to you finishes your drink with a satisfied sigh, wiping the garnet droplets from the corner of his lips but not the paint left by yours. "hm," sylus drags his tongue along his lips, a smirk threatening to show. "it is better than i thought."

you flush, seeing your lipstick smudged on sylus' succulent lips. you don’t know what to say. he totally did that on purpose. there's no way he didn't. does this mean the two of you technically kissed-

you don't allow yourself to finish that last thought. you blink rapidly, trying to get your now parched mouth to say something. anything. but you can't. you're completely flustered to the point where all you can do is just gape at sylus with a blush the shade of his eyes tinting your cheeks.

sylus grins, the tip of his canine peeking out from his now-tainted lips. this is better than he thought. perhaps, he should settle more often if it means getting to see you so cutely aroused and embarrassed like this. though, he knows he won't be able to settle for long. he knows one day, he won't be able to hold himself back anymore. one day, he'll conquer your lips for himself and relentlessly indulge in the real thing. but for now, sylus is content. for now.

"cat got your tongue, sweetie?" sylus teases, tilting his head to meet your shaky gaze.

you jerk your head away, trying to get the image of his lips out of your mind. "eyes on the prize, sylus."

sylus chuckles, but not without placing his elbow on the table and propping his face on his hand to get a better look at you. "oh, my eyes are on the prize, sweetie. my eyes are on the prize."

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace x reader #lnds sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace

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