Exomas Day Two - Male (semi-genderfluid?) djinn x male (mage) reader (nsfw) (Patreon)

Hope you folks all had good days yesterday, and that you enjoyed my extraordinarily long mummy x reader story from Day One. 

Here's day two, mlm this time. Don't forget to let me know if you liked it by dropping a click on the heart at the end, or even leaving a comment for me :). The first one was available to all patrons (since it was Christmas Day), but going forward, they'll only be available for Pixies and Goblins. 

Content: best friend has been in a car accident, mentions of past power imbalance (djinn in servitude), feral werewolf attack, nsfw scene, and lots of fluff around all that (everyone is ok in the end, because it's me!)Wordcount: 7034!

The silence in the basement thrummed against your ears as you concentrated, trying not to sweat all over the chalk lines you’d drawn to contain the object at the centre of the extremely complicated series of locks and bindings. 

“This has to work,” you said, staring at the markings and runes for the umpteenth time. “It has to.” 

It was perfect, you knew that, but still, you felt a thrill of fear rising in your chest as you stared at the urn in the centre of the containment circle. 

The seal on the jar said that the djinn inside was named Zurrhat, and that he had been sealed away in 340BC by a mage in Byzantium for causing havoc amongst the city by attacking Athenians. The fact that you’d stumbled across it at a car boot sale the week before was as sure a sign of ‘fate’ as you could ever hoped for, if you had actually ever believed in all that nonsense. With your best friend now lying in a hospital bed after a car crash that should have been fatal, you were absolutely desperate for a way to bring him back though, and you weren’t about to turn this chance down since it had almost literally landed in your lap.

The old lady who had been in charge of the table of junk had been so sweet when you’d backed into it, trying to get out of the way of two men carrying a beat-up old sofa down the narrow alley of space between the two rows of sellers. The urn had rolled perilously on its pointed base, like a seabird’s egg on a precarious cliff shelf, and you’d shot your hands out to catch it instinctively. You’d been staring at the seal when she’d complained, “Oh, that wretched old thing. I can’t get the lid off, but you’re welcome to have it if you like it.”

“Have it?”

“Mmm,” she’d nodded. 

You read the ancient script again. Djinn… sealed… A magical object like this shouldn’t be in the hands of some mundane old lady. You’d lock it in the runed safe you kept in the basement until you knew what to do with it. It had been on your way back to the car after the junk sale that you’d heard about Scott and the head-on collision. You’d nearly dropped the jar again then, but instead you clutched it tightly to your chest, the pottery feeling strangely warm. 

A djinn…

Grinding your teeth, you checked the bindings one last time, and then cracked the seal with a complex fire spell, and in-so-doing, summoned forth the djinn. 

At first you thought nothing was going to happen. 

“Fuck, if this is all just some prank,” you snarled after two or three tense minutes of absolutely nothing passed by. The jar could have been lightly enchanted so that your own magic would detect it, but there was no telling if the seal told the truth or not. You’d looked up the djinn in your books, and he - the entity usually manifested as male, though he had been known to take on a female form - was not only very real, but also very powerful. You cursed again and had been on the point of sealing the earthenware jar back up again when darkness began to pool within the confines of the chalk markings. 

Coughing, billowing, surging, seething, the darkness boiled upwards like an active tar pit. 

You raised your eyebrows at all the unnecessary theatrics, trying not to be impressed as you glimpsed the tips of two ridged, onyx horns rising from the floor as the djinn appeared in the smoke. With arms crossed over his chest, the entity reared upwards, revealing an expanse of smooth, ruby red skin, rippling muscles, gold jewellery adorning his biceps in a tight band with fine, hanging chains, earrings, a septum ring in his hooked nose, and yes, pierced nipples. He had a simple fold of silk wrapped tightly and low-down around his angular hips, and a long, lithe tail coiled behind him idly. Fiery red eyes flared when he saw you and he laughed, his full lips parting to reveal a row of pointed teeth, upper and lower canines slightly longer than the rest. His voice was a rich, warm baritone, deep and slightly rough.

Fuck. 

You’d heard that djinn manifested in a form that deliberately tested or tempted their captors, but you weren’t quite ready for how damned attractive you found him. You swallowed, stilling yourself and schooling your features. You couldn’t school your heartbeat, and you knew he could hear it. 

His hair fell loose down his back from a sharp widow’s peak at the front in thick, dark waves, and here and there a gold bead or decoration was woven into it, glinting softly. Lowering his arms to his sides with melodramatic slowness, he raised one thick, black eyebrow. He had clawed hands, the talons black and shiny, and he flexed them almost playfully while he waited for you to react. 

What an arrogant little shit. 

He didn’t speak for a moment, but let his searing gaze rake up your body. Slowly. Whether he was impressed or disappointed, he didn’t reveal anything when he was done. Eventually, however, he purred, “Well. Fashions have certainly changed. Who are you?”

You rolled your eyes. As if you were going to reveal your true name to an entity like this without establishing some kind of contract first. 

He laughed at that, a deep, rumbling chuckle that went straight to your cock. You ground your jaw again and took a deep breath. “It was worth a try,” he said. “What year is it?”

You didn’t see the harm in letting him know that, so you said, “2019. Not for much longer though…”

That surprised him, and he suddenly seemed a little sad. “So long,” he sighed. “Well, what can I do for you, oh most gracious master?” The obsequious sarcasm in his voice only hardened your resolve. 

“I wish to form a contract with you,” you said. “If you are not willing to accept my terms, I will simply reseal you in that urn.”

Zurrhat made a show of examining the chalk markings next. They were sacred, and he couldn’t touch them or rub anything out, but it certainly made your heartbeat skip when he paused, tail lashing like a frustrated house cat watching the bird feeder outside. He had his broad expanse of muscular back shifted, muscles moving like melting butter beneath his dark red skin. There wasn’t a mark on him except for a long, thickly corded scar from his right shoulder blade down to his left kidney. 

You stared openly at it, wondering who could have inflicted such a wound on him, and as if he’d forgotten about it and only recalled it as he felt your gaze on it, his back stiffened and he turned slowly back to look at you. 

“Like my pretty back, do you?” he said, his voice flat and hard. His tone carried all the promised danger of a waking volcano, somehow held back by a single silk thread. 

“You know the answer to that already, given that you chose that form for your coming out party,” you snapped. “Is my sigaldry up to your high and mighty standards, or would you like to stuff yourself back into that jar like a pickled chili pepper?”

Like a raptor eyeing a mouse, he cocked his head slowly, eyes glowing in the dimness of your basement. “Oh you are precious, aren’t you?” he smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. 

With a sigh, you began the incantation that would do precisely what you’d just threatened. You didn’t need the book for it, which added a little extra power to your image. Three words in, he wheezed and doubled over in the small space at the centre of all the markings. You had to show him that you weren’t to be trifled with; that was how these exchanges worked. Anything less, and you could find yourself without a soul, or flayed, or turned literally inside out, and all within a heartbeat. 

“Stop!” he gasped, black smoke coughing from his lips. “You little weasel, wait!”

You did pause then. “Willing to think about a contract?”

He bared his teeth at you. “One slip up, little human, and you’re mine.”

You spoke the next three words of his binding and he dropped to his knees, retching, jet talons digging into the concrete floor as he heaved. 

“Rule one. You will not try to escape, harm me, or interfere negatively with any element of my life, directly or indirectly, including the lives of my friends and loved ones, bound as you are now or by another in the future.” Not many people thought to include that last bit. 

He gnashed his dangerous teeth. “You actually have those?” he pouted, still sounding strangled. “Friends and loved ones? You look like a real loner to me…”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the concept of love,” you said and his eyes darkened to embers, deep anger swirling. “Now, do you agree to the first rule? If not, you can go back in the jar.” 

He nodded. 

Flatly, you said, “I need a verbal confirmation.”

“Oh, you’re one of those, are you?” he choked, still on his knees. One more word of his binding and he yelled, “Fuck you. Yes. Yes, I accept, you little shit.”

You had to laugh just a little. You weren’t sadistic by nature, but you’d been around enough of his kind - three or four during your training and apprenticeship - to know that they all liked to try it on when they were first released or summoned. There were also horrific accounts of witches and mages who didn’t check their bindings and circles properly, and of djinn sidestepping through loopholes in contracts and devouring their energy and escaping. Djinn could not enter your plain without invitation from this side, but once here, they could very happily exist without a master, feeding off the energies of humans until they were either caught for real or hunted down and destroyed. Some said they consumed a person’s soul when they drained their energies dry. Like succubi and incubi, they preferred the life force of humans above all for sustenance; how they acquired it - through terror, anger, joy, sex… - varied from entity to entity, and there was no way to tell (usually) before it was too late. 

“Good,” you said, trying to maintain a steady voice. You weren’t necessarily the most imposing of humans, but you had strong enough magic, skill, and willpower to make this work just fine. “Rule two. You will obey my instructions and commands without exception until I explicitly release you.”

He twitched his lips again at that, but this time he didn’t argue. “As you wish, master,” he spat with the soft, deadly venom of a waiting cobra. You were really going to have to watch your back with this one. 

“Rule three,” you said began. You only got to make three rules, just as he could only offer you three magical favours in return; that was just how the universe worked. You just needed the one favour. You’d see where things lay when you’d got that done, not that you were about to let him know any of that. “When you have fulfilled my three ‘favours’, you will submit yourself completely and allow me to return you easily to the urn to be sealed away again.”

Still on hands and knees, his eyes went distant at that and to your surprise, you watched them turn glassy, almost tearful. A hissing exhale escaped his pretty mouth through gritted teeth and he bowed his head, staring at the floor between his clawed red hands. A small stack of gold bracelets clinked softly as he shifted his weight. He seemed to be considering some kind of plea, but he had to know it wouldn’t work. Finally, he simply nodded. “I accept.”

You knew you couldn’t possibly have ‘broken’ him so easily. It had to be an act, the entity biding his time while he waited for you to make a mistake. With that thought in your head, you hardened your heart again.

“You agree to forge this contract with me?” you asked formally. “To experience this realm under my control, to abide by the rules to which you have already agreed, until such time as my three favours have been fulfilled by you and I see fit to return you to your containment.”

“I do,” he whispered as if he’d just sold his very soul to you. 

The shadows in the room seemed to snap taut suddenly as a new magic joined with your own. Like two threads wound together around each other, your magic and his combined, sealed together while mercifully still remaining separate. You could tap into his strength to a certain extent during any rituals, but he couldn’t access yours. He could brush against it though, and he did that now, testing the boundaries of his new contract. He still didn’t look happy though. 

“Relax, it’s not as if you’re marrying me,” you snorted. 

“You want me to be grateful, human?” he snarled, pushing himself upright again with a grunt. You'd forgotten, while he’d been crouched, how tall he had chosen to be but you refused to be intimidated by him. He was here for a reason, after all. He didn’t seem to notice as he carried on, “To be paraded beneath the sky but never allowed to grow wings and fly? After centuries confined in that… that…” he spat, eyes actually glowing red in the darkness, as if all the fires of hell blazed behind the stained glass of his irises. He gestured viciously at the jar that sat beside him in a separate sphere of containment from his own within the labyrinth of chalk markings that covered your basement floor. He would never be able to access it in there, even when you broke his own bindings, so the risk of him somehow destroying his prison was negligible. 

You eyed the jar. It just looked like a large pot to you, like an old wine jar that an archaeologist might unearth at a Roman dig site or something. 

He snarled. “Silver particles in the clay,” he spat. “It’s a wonder I didn’t go completely insane in there.”

“Oh,” you breathed. Silver wasn’t exactly a djinn’s favourite metal, and his essence would have spent all those centuries of confinement shrinking away from it. Every time the jar was moved, it would have jostled him. “Well, I hope this respite is marginally more pleasant for you.”

And with that, you dragged the toe of your shoe over the chalk, tentatively freeing him, under the control of the bond. 

To your surprise, he didn’t move. He just stared at you. 

You sighed. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. Disguise yourself as a human in decent clothing, and we can get going.”

Zurrhat tilted his head, thoughtfully, and then snapped his finger and thumb. In a theatrical puff of smoke, he became almost disappointingly human. His clothes, however, drew a bark of laughter from you. “That went out of fashion one or two years ago…” you said, eyeing the long, Byzantine robes, hemmed with gold thread. “Come on, I’ll let you have a look at some more normal clothes.”

If he was embarrassed, he didn’t show it. 

Six-foot-something tall, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, chestnut brown irises with gold flecks - red too, if you stared really closely - and dark brown skin, Zurrhat walked at your side as you left the house half an hour later, wearing softly-rumpled jeans and a scruffy, black leather jacket. Beneath the jacket was a dark maroon Henley, and he looked, quite frankly, delicious. 

“So, master,” he cooed softly, leaning down and nudging you slightly with his shoulder. “Where are we headed? You’re not going to burn through your three wishes in my first day, are you?” he asked. 

“You’re going to heal my best friend,” you said bluntly, ignoring the way he went a bit softer around the edges as you said that. 

“Heal him? What’s wrong with him?”

“He was in a car accident. He should be dead, but for some reason he isn’t. But he might still die, and he’s not waking up, and his body’s slowly giving up.”

Zurrhat didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, so instead he stalked along like a colossal bodyguard by your side, staring at everything around him with mild wonder on his face. You couldn’t quite muster enough empathy to wonder if he was baffled by it, but his kind learned quickly. If he had questions, he could ask them. You’d not forbidden him from asking questions, only from giving away what he was. If anyone asked, he was a friend of yours, visiting from another part of the country. 

The hospital made him visibly nervous, and he trailed you tightly as you wound your way through to the Intensive Care Unit. 

The sight of Scott lying there made bile rise in your throat; ash grey, face a wreck of bruises and bandages, teetering on the edge of death. “Hey buddy,” you said, trying to affect some lightness that you didn’t feel. “It’s me. I’ve come with a Christmas miracle…” you said, looking over your shoulder. “Can you bring him back to the way he was before the accident?”

The djinn looked from you to the unconscious Scott, with all sorts of wires and tubes attached to him, and blinked softly. With one soft nod, he told you all you needed to know. 

“No side effects, no loopholes, no fucking around,” you growled. “You heal him of the injuries caused by the car crash.”

“I can do that,” Zurrhat murmured. “It’ll take a lot out of me, but I can do it.”

Choking up slightly, you asked, “It’s that bad?”

He walked over from the doorway to the bedside and halted beside you. “May I?” he asked, fingers hovering just above Scott’s.

“What do you want to do?”

“Read him. Find out just how fucked up he is…”

Your face darkened, but you nodded. 

Zurrhat gently scooped up Scott’s limp hand and closed his eyes. A second later, he gasped, staggering and grunting softly. “Well…” he croaked. “Good news is that I can fix him. I might need you to carry me out of here afterwards though. It’s going to take everything I’ve got.”

You let your eyes rake over his body - all six foot whatever of it - with his broad shoulders and muscular thighs, and raised your eyebrows. 

He quirked a wonky grin that flashed his canines, and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy for you before I pass out. So… I’m guessing this is your first wish…”

You nodded. “It is. Do what I’ve asked of you and no more.”

As you closed the blinds on Scott’s private room, you heard Zurrhat take a deep, steadying breath and murmur, “Easy. Come on, let me in. That’s it. It’s ok. Shh…” and the tenderness in his voice rocked you to the core. Scott’s ECG monitor blipped slightly, and Zurrhat cursed, but a moment later he had Scott’s hand sandwiched between his huge palms, and was bent forwards. Sweat beaded on his brows and he screwed his eyes shut, grimacing. 

You felt a tug on your magic, as if he had used everything he had to give and was requesting some of yours, and, carefully, you allowed a small flow to pass from your stream of power to his. 

With a heady moan that wouldn’t have been out of context in the bedroom, Zurrhat tipped his head back to expose his throat, and let his lips fall apart in a way that could definitely have been taken as wantonly sexual. 

Suddenly Scott gasped, opened his blue eyes, and began to scrabble at the apparatus attached to him. 

Zurrhat passed out, slumping sideways and hitting the deck hard. As he connected with the floor, however, his form changed, shifting, becoming a tiny dormouse of all things. 

“Holy fucking shit,” you whispered, scooping up the unconscious mouse that was about the size of a small apricot and stuffing him in your coat pocket as Scott jerked upright, machines blaring as his vitals shifted dramatically. 

A moment later, a doctor and two nurses burst in and bustled you out of the way. It didn’t matter. Scott was going to make it. 

Hours later, after you'd told him everything, and he’d reprimanded you in only the way that a best friend can - with harsh words and love in his eyes - you were asked to let him rest, and you headed back to your house on the edge of the town. You weren’t sure if Zurrhat would wake up any time soon, and whether he’d suddenly burst out of your coat pocket in the hospital corridor if he did come round- that would be hilariously awkward. Your mood was light enough that you laughed at that image. 

Back at home, you scooped the dormouse out of your pocket, surprised to discover that he was awake. He nipped you but it didn’t hurt, and you set him down on the kitchen table. “What, you want me to offer you piece of cheese or something?” you snorted. 

The mouse let out an indignant squeak but he was too adorable to be taken seriously and you bit your lips together to keep from making an inhuman noise. Honestly, this was a fucking djinn, not a pet.

Your djinn then leapt from the table, bouncing easily off the seat of the kitchen chair, and coming to a halt on the floor in the wide space between the fridge and the table. Looking around, he transformed again, this time into the form in which you’d first encountered him; all red skin, gold jewellery, and tight muscle. 

“Is that really necessary?” you asked. 

He smirked. “You like it.”

“I'm not denying you’re attractive - that would be pointless - but you don’t have to expose yourself like that for me.”

“Not interested in men that way?” he teased. 

You shot him a flat look that said he knew the answer to that as well. 

“Would I be less tempting for you as a woman then?” he still asked. 

“Tell me something?” you said instead, deliberately turning it into a question and not a command. 

He shrugged one massive shoulder. “I might.”

You couldn’t help grinning to yourself as you filled up the kettle for a cup of tea. “If you were to take the form of a woman, would you view yourself as a woman too?”

“Of course,” came a higher voice from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw a woman standing there, with the same red skin and black hair, horns and jewellery, but now she had sumptuous curves. Her clothing could have been the inspiration for ‘that bikini’ in Star Wars, if only the djinn known what that was. 

Zurrhat paced barefoot over to you, her eyes locked on your face. “You really don’t prefer this, do you?” she purred. “Shame. I like this form.”

“Stick with it if you like,” you said, turning back as the kettle clicked off, steam billowing into the air. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”

She paused, blinking in obvious surprise. “You’re telling the truth.”

Ignoring that, you poured your tea and brushed past her, heading for the couch. It felt like you’d done a morning’s worth of spell casting, even though you’d just lent the djinn enough power to help Scott. 

As if following your train of thoughts, Zurrhat followed you and plonked herself down into the armchair opposite the couch. She crossed her arms and said, “Is Scott just a friend?”

A brief image of the two of you back in college, drunkenly intertwined, teeth biting, lips sucking, hands scrabbling desperately, cocks hard, flashed across your mind and you laughed. “We are now. We had a brief thing back when we were in first year, but we figured out it was better just as friends.”

“So you’re single?” she asked, her husky alto almost low enough to be tempting, but not quite. 

You shrugged. “Yeah. I’m busy enough protecting the supernatural communities in the city. That’s enough for me.”

“Scott loves you,” she said bluntly.

“And I love him,” you replied. “But not like that.”

“I felt it when I was healing him. Thank you for that, by the way,” she added. “I was grateful for the extra shot of juice…”

“You don’t talk like you stepped out of the past, you know?” you said, deflecting. 

“We learn quickly,” she said. “And you had the radio on in the car. What happens now?”

What happened next was that you fell asleep not long afterwards, after asking her to tell you about the past before she’d been sealed away. 

When you woke, it was dusk, and Zurrhat was nowhere to be seen. 

Jolting to your feet, you nearly called out loud, but then you went still, sensing the magic that lay atop yours. It was peaceful, quiet, restful. You explored the small house, finding the djinn upstairs, curled on your bed in the form of a large, slender, red-coated hound. 

“Well, that’s a surprise,” you said softly. 

As if you’d zapped Zurrhat with a taser, the dog yelped and leapt off the bed, shifting in mid air into his male ‘humanoid’ form. “Fuck, you startled me,” he panted, and then he took you off guard by laughing. “The all-powerful djinn scared shitless by his human master…”

“I won’t write it in the records, I promise,” you said dryly. “Rest if you need it. I’m going out.”

“Out?”

“There’s no food and I’m hungry.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, rest.”

“But -”

You flashed your eyes and your magic flared hot inside you. 

“Fine, whatever,” he shrugged and slouched out of the room. 

You'd have been lying if you’d said you weren’t worried that he’d try something while you were away, but you were secure enough in your magic and your abilities. What you hadn’t counted on was being set-upon by a feral werewolf in the parking lot of the supermarket as you cut back on foot towards the alley that would eventually lead you to your house. 

Your magic sputtered as you tried to scrape your brain back together after the initial shock of finding the creature stalking towards you from the shadows of the back of the building. “Easy,” you said, but it made no difference. Panicked by your magic, driven by instinct alone, the wolf pounced. 

Leaping through the air, it snarled and snapped its jaws, but it never made contact with you. A crack of lightning and a deafening roar that left your ears ringing sent you reeling backwards, landing hard on your backside as Zurrhat materialised in front of you in a wall of red muscles and black hair. 

The werewolf’s jaws sank into his red skin, black blood boiling out around the creature’s canines. With a howl of pain, Zurrhat drove his fist upwards into the creature’s ribcage and attached his right hand over the feral beast’s muzzle. He lifted it up, biceps bunching and flexing, until the teeth were out of his neck, and flung the creature away. With another fork of blinding lightning, he knocked the creature back. 

Staggering, he turned to face you, his features oddly slack. His knees gave way and he crashed to the tarmac beneath his bare feet, collapsing for the second time that day. Except that this time, he didn’t turn into an adorable mouse. Blood pooled like ink in the harsh light of the lamps, and you rose shakily, darting to his side. “Zurrhat,” you breathed, cradling his head. “Can you hear me?”

He nodded once, eyelids flickering. His body was twitching alarmingly from time to time. You extended your magic slightly, trying to feel for his, but it was so weak. 

“I wish for you to heal yourself,” you said without thinking. 

His eyes met yours, wide and disbelieving. “You… That’s… That’s your second -?” he asked, voice rough and weak. 

“Yes. Do it.”

Warm light washed out of the punctures in his neck and when it faded, you saw the skin was smooth and flawless as burnished clay. He surged up to meet you as you swayed slightly, the surprise and shock of what had happened washing over you. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, scooping you up in his arms. Smoke swirled around you and when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in your own living room. Zurrhat set you down on the sofa and vanished again, reappearing a moment later with your two shopping bags in one clawed hand. He waved his other hand over them and the bags went slack, suddenly empty. 

“That’s useful,” you smiled and he laughed. “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

“How did you know?” you asked at the same time as his own question left his lips. You both laughed and you said, “You first. Yes, I’m alright. Thank you.”

He sank down onto the same armchair as earlier and said, “I felt it. Your magic flared, and then I felt your terror as my own.”

Horror shot through you at that. He shouldn’t be able to feel that. Your emotions were supposed to be private. 

Zurrhat watched your expression intently. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m not sure why either. There was nothing in the summoning that would indicate that kind of connection. Maybe it’s fate,” he grinned, though the gesture was empty. 

Fate. 

When you didn’t smile back, he frowned. “What?”

With a sigh, you said, “I thought that it was a coincidence that I found your urn on the same day as Scott’s accident. I wasn’t going to use you or free you until I heard what had happened to him, that he might die…”

“Coincidence…?” Zurrhat purred softly to himself. 

“What? What is it?”

“Try something for me?” the djinn asked and when your eyes instantly narrowed in suspicion, he said, “It doesn’t violate any of your rules. It’s just… humour me?”

“What?”

“Conjure a small flame in your hand.”

Easy enough. When you did so, he rose and padded over, sinking to his knees in front of you so that you were almost at eye level with you on the couch and him on the floor. Tentatively, he reached his fingers out for the flames. 

“Don’t change them. Don’t think anything different. Just… keep them burning.”

“But -”

“No… it’s a test. It’s alright if you hurt me.”

You disagreed with that, but did as instructed. He stuck his fingers into the fire in your hand and you waited. Nothing happened. He withdrew them a moment later and grinned. “Fate,” he said.

“I don’t understand…”

“My kind were around a long, long time ago,” he said, sitting back on his heels but making no move to get up again. “Long before humans, but when human mages started to be born, some of my kind found themselves drawn to them. You can feel how neatly our magics sit beside one another, can’t you?” 

Astonished, you nodded but remained silent. 

“You remember how easy it was for you to lend me a little of your power back at the hospital…?”

“Yeah…” you breathed. “But… What are you trying to say? That you’re my own personal genie? It doesn’t work like that…”

His grin became sharp but not dangerous, even as he flashed his entirely-too-sharp teeth at you. Attraction surged in you then, unbidden and entirely inappropriate, and you felt your cock twitch just a little. “I make it a point, you know, never to sleep willingly with my masters,” he said, that shit-eating smirk still on his handsome face. 

Something about his words made you falter, your arousal fizzling out as suddenly as it had arisen. “‘Willingly’?” you asked, horror sinking. The idea of using someone - an entity of his intellectual and emotional intelligence - against their will seemed utterly revolting. 

A kinder light flickered into his eyes then and his smile turned soft, almost affectionate. “I’ve known you for one day,” he laughed, “And already you’re different from everyone I’ve ever been bound to. Well, almost everyone.”

“You’ve had kind masters before?” you asked, still shaken. It hadn’t occurred to you that someone would behave like that, but when you thought about it, it made sense. By offering up some of their life force through sex, a human in control of a djinn could increase their power. If the djinn had agreed to obey all commands, then… You heaved a little at the idea. 

A hand landed on your knee, gentle, steadying. “It’s not so bad,” he said. 

“Don’t…” you hissed and he immediately withdrew his hand. “No,” you corrected. “I didn’t mean… you can do that if you want. I just meant… don’t say it’s not bad for someone to command you to do something involving your own body like that, if you don’t want it.”

“I like the power I get from it,” he admitted. “The rush. But not everyone does, you’re right.” His thumb traced idle circles on the inside of your leg and you found your skin prickling at the sensation. It had been a while since you’d been with someone and your cock was starting to take an interest in the touches your body was receiving. “Do you want me to distract you for a bit?” he asked. “No tricks,” he added with a grin. 

“Do you want it?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “You’re…” he looked up at you through thick, dark lashes, eyes darkening to a deep crimson. “There’s something about your energy… I… I want you…” 

You glanced down and saw that the glossy fabric that covered his hips had a very obvious tent in it, which you took to be another good sign. 

“If you want to,” you said again.

He smiled but made no move other than to shift his hands to your hips. When his hands found the button of your jeans, he unzipped them and you lifted your hips instinctively as he drew everything off in one go. Your cock was only half hard, but he didn’t seem to mind. He stroked his hands gently over your hips and along your thighs until you were shaking, and then he leaned forwards and took your cock into his mouth. 

He sucked gently, groaning as he felt you swelling under his attention. 

“Oh fuck,” you hissed, again, head tipping back as he took you a little deeper this time, hands steadying you. This was a bad idea, surely? A little drop of fear landed in the seething pool of emotions inside you and he suddenly stopped. 

“I won’t hurt you…” you heard him say behind the rushing of blood in your ears. 

“Don’t stop now,” you growled. 

Chuckling, he got back to work, and you knew you were going to come embarrassingly quickly. He hollowed his cheeks, rumbling soft moans as you leaked pre-come into his mouth with each swirling pass of his tongue over your tip, until you felt that heat coiling in your stomach. 

“Stop, stop,” you whimpered, hands pushing into the couch beneath you as you fought not to give in to the rush of your orgasm. “Wait, please… I… I want…”

“What?” he asked gently. “You want to be inside me, or you want me to fuck you?”

“Oh god,” you breathed. “I don’t care, just… I can’t come yet…” You didn’t want it to be over like that. 

He laughed good-naturedly and backed off. “Will you fuck me?” he asked in a whisper. 

Your eyes rolled open and you looked up at him. The thought of all that muscle and power being laid out beneath you was almost enough to make you spill all over yourself then and there, but somehow you managed to get upstairs and to get the rest of your clothes off without doing that. 

He lay back on the bed and then smiled almost sweetly when you reached for the top drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. “I’m assuming condoms aren’t necessary?” you said. 

“Can’t carry or pass anything on,” he said, adding swiftly afterwards, “Are you sure about this?”

“Am I sure?” you asked, suddenly worried that he was just going along with it, hoping for you to make some mistake, for you to yell something in a moment of passion that he could hold over you. 

Sensing your worry, he rose up again and drew you down to lie atop his searingly hot body, his hands caressing your cheeks and jaw before he pulled you down and kissed you hard. The grind of your cock against his own impressive erection sent a jolt through the both of you and he gasped, resting his forehead against yours for a moment as he bucked his hips up into you. He was slick and leaking himself, and he laughed, “I forgot how much I like it in this body… how good… that feels…” he said, punctuating his words with a roll of his hips. “I want you…” he said. “I mean it.”

He started to roll over, showing you his scarred back and the perfect muscles of his backside, but you stopped him. “I want to face you. I know it’s easier the other way around, but I want to watch you…” What you didn’t say was that you wanted to watch him come apart beneath your touch. The idea of a djinn as powerful - magically and physically - willingly submitting to you was suddenly immensely erotic. “Pass me that pillow.”

You took your time, circling your fingertip around his tight muscle, watching him grunt and tense up before parting his legs even further for you. Sliding slick fingers into him eventually drew the most intoxicating sound out of him. Halfway between a sob and a moan, he tipped his head back and keened, mouth open, teeth bared, eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. The muscles of his abs contracted and he groaned again as you slid a second finger into him. 

He was so tight and so hot, and all you wanted was to sink your cock into him, but you waited, patiently opening him up until he was loose and desperate, gasping and on the verge of begging. He didn’t though. Zurrhat sucked in a great, shuddering breath and his whole body began to tremble as you fitted four fingers inside him. One leg suddenly bent at the knee and he drew it up, opening himself more to you, a high-pitched whimpering escaping him before he shut it up almost immediately. His hips squirmed and when you dragged the tip of one finger over his prostate, he yelled. His back arched off the bed and he roared before staring at you with eyes blazing red. 

“Please,” he choked. “Please… I need… ‘m going to… I have to…”

Shakily, he squirmed his hips, looking wrecked already. Sweat sheened his heaving chest and his eyes burned for you. 

“Please… I - oh!” He cut off sharply as you lined yourself up and sank inside him to the hilt. As you bottomed out, you both went still, both clearly fighting the urge to come. Zurrhat breathed through his teeth, twitching, his muscles clenching around you. His hard, pierced nipples pebbled tightly as his abs and pecs tensed. “Move,” he finally growled. 

Slowly at first, you slid your cock out and back in again, almost pulling out each time before easing back into him. 

“More!” he demanded. “Fuck… feels so good. Oh… I -”

Once again, you shut him up with a roll of your hips, though this time it was more of a snap. You rammed your cock back inside him, over and over until finally he bellowed out a strangled ‘yes!’ and suddenly he was coming, painting his chest with ropes of come, his face blissed out, his lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure. 

The feel of him coming around you dragged your release from you a couple of strokes later, and you emptied yourself into his still clenching body. 

He eventually stopped coming, his cock twitching and drooling all over himself, and he lay back, breathing heavily. The djinn’s eyes were closed but he winced slightly as you withdrew and practically fell down next to him. 

“That was perfect,” he whispered. 

Your default state was self-deprecating humour, so it didn’t surprise you when you blurted, “It really must have been a long time for you, if you thought that was perfect.”

Zurrhat snarled softly but he was too exhausted to do more than that. 

Morning light filtered through the curtains when you stirred next, sticky and gross. “I should shower,” you said, trying to untangle yourself from the arms around you. “Seriously, get off… I’m all gross.”

“That’s what magic’s for,” he grumbled in your ear. And a second later, you were clean. 

“Useful,” you commented again, letting sleep come for you and drag you down again. 

When you woke next, Zurrhat was lying on his front and you on your side, facing him. Your eyes were drawn to the scar that ran the length of his back, and you reached your fingertips out and touched the scar-tissue at his shoulder. He jumped slightly beneath your fingers, but only turned his head to look at you, careful of his horns on the pillows. 

He hummed softly and closed his eyes. 

“You like that?”

“Mmm,” he responded and you jumped as his tail coiled lazily around your ankle, working its way up your leg until he found your stiffening cock and shot you another grin. It was as much a question as it was a smile, and you rolled your eyes and lay back while he played with you in return. 

Perhaps it had been fate after all. 

___

Hope you enjoyed this one! Don't forget to check out the Patreon Masterlist, in case you missed anything from before. All the xmas/Exomas stories will be going up in a separate list on the masterlist, so you should be able to find them easily enough if you want to go back later. Merry Christmas! x