#Softie only for a spark

[wheat-angel]

I did the thing!

[revelboo]

Assorted headcanons- scenarios 🌶️ 18+

Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Jazz x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Prowl x Reader, Thundercracker x Reader, others. G1/IDW, TFP, TF One. Mass-displaced Cybertronians x reader scene pack- no plot here

Sorry, not sorry at all.

IDW/G1 Starscream

• Kneeling, body bowed over yours, he chuckles and runs his servos over your rib cage. “Something wrong?” He almost purrs the words, lips twisting knowingly. With your hips up, thighs spread over his you can’t get any leverage. Can’t move and you desperately need to, feeling the thick length of his spike pulsing where it’s buried inside you. You tuck your chin to glare up at him, but his optics are focused on where you’re joined, almost seeming fascinated with watching himself slowly rock against you, his spike slick as it disappears inside you before he glances at you, sly expression growing wicked. “Say it.”

• “Please. Please move,” you growl at him voice straining, trying to wiggle and he leans back, servos tightening on your soft hips to pin you still with him buried deep right where he belongs. Teasing his own control and yours. Wings flicking, he studies your flushed face as your thighs clench around him, struggling in frustration. Needing him. Only him, because you’re his. “Star.” Your voice hitches, begging for him and his restraint shatters. Shifting to stretch out over you, he begins to move. You cling to him as he drives into your wet heat, adoring those softy needy sounds you make and the way you feel like you’re made just to take his spike.

TFP Megatron

• Coiling the length of your leash around his fist, he buries his face against the softness of your throat as he covers your much smaller frame. He lets his claws play over your core, testing how wet you are for him. Feeling you squirm as he runs his chain wrapped servos along your belly and up to caress the delicate line of your jaw with a claw tip. Those sharp denta tease the skin of your shoulder, biting just hard enough to send little sparks of pain through you to mix with the need coiling you tight. Leaving marks so there’s no doubt who you belong to.

• Trembling in need as he palms your throat with a hand, draping himself against your back on his knees and a fist planted against the berth. You can feel his spike against your inner thigh branding you with his body heat, leaving a wet trail as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Such a good little pet,” he growls, before his mouth slides down along your throat to your shoulder. You don’t even have time to form a retort or get offended about the pet comment, before he’s spearing you on his spike and you brace as that first thrust almost sends your sprawling face down. Then he’s firmly pressing against your nape until you surrender with a whimper, chest down, hips up as he ruts against you with a possessive snarl, pace relentless.

TFP Soundwave

• That soundless hum crackles over you, through you in an electric rush that lifts the fine hair at your nape as he settles against you and that tingling awareness washes over you. Arching against his grip as he uses those tendrils like built in shibari to restrain you. Pin you immobile where he wants you. Positioned how he wants.

• Everywhere his flesh meets yours, more of you sinks into him, giving everything you are to him as he presses his forehead to yours, servos sliding down your sides. There’ll be no keeping your thoughts out, no mental walls between you as he spreads you to him, holding you immobile and gripping himself, slides the head of his spike against your slick heat. Your need lashes at him, demanding wordlessly and he can’t deny you. Uses his tendrils to pull you down onto his spike and shuddering as your heat, your thoughts, all of you, envelopes him. Those little noises you make as he claims you almost musical.

G1/IDW Prowl

• “Screw you,” you curl your lip at him. “You can’t just crook a finger and I’ll come running.” The first time had been an accident. How were you supposed to know that if you kept pushing his buttons he’d react that way. Your back thumps against the wall, his fist smacking against the wall as he glares down at you, all frustration and heat and hunger. It’s a feeling you understand all too well as his mouth crashes against yours with bruising force. It’s not a kiss, so much as a domination. And then he’s gripping you, lifting you to pin against the wall with casual strength, settling himself between your thighs so you can’t shut him out. You don’t like him, you’re pretty sure he hates you, but the both of you are equally screwed by how much you enjoy angry sex.

• You bite his lip hard, hands shoving at him like you can actually force him to budge and he nips back, hearing your sharp intake of breath, those angry eyes flashing that he drew blood. He’s almost certain you’d do the same if you could, can feel your fingernails digging into the seams in his armor, biting into the mesh there. Trying to hurt him, mark him as yours. You can hate him all you like, glare and snap at him, but you want him. Want this. A fact that winds him tight as he pulls back enough that he can line your bodies up, find that wet heat and thrust into you. You cling to him, legs hooking around him as he bucks into you and your lips and mouth press whimpering kisses against his throat. Needing him. Hating him. Begging and cursing.

G1/IDW Bluestreak

• His servos tunnel into the softness of your hair, lips running over your jaw up to the corner of your mouth. Internal systems hitching as you shift on top of him where he’s sprawled and the servos of his other hand tighten and almost immediately relax against your hip. Fighting himself and the urge to just move you where he needs you so he can drive up into that tight, wet heat. Your blunt little teeth nip at his lip, soft fingers playing with the mesh of his protoarmor under his jaw. And you shift against him, sitting up on his chassis, eyes dark with need, hair messy from his servos.

• Bluestreak’s head is thrown back, denta bared like he’s in pain as he curls his warm hands around your waist. Every rough vent blowing across your sweat slicked skin as you brace your palms on his chassis and rock back. Sliding yourself against his spike until he shudders under you, servos tightening on you so much you know there’ll be bruises later. “Please,” he growls, optics gorgeous as he looks up at you, that hungry stare almost worshipful. Making you feel powerful as you reach back to find him, grip his pulsing spike and lower yourself on him. His venting hitches under you, hips lifting as he groans in Cybertronian, seeming to forget you can’t understand him now as his hands slide down your waist to your hips and he pulls you the rest of the way down to take all of him. Now you’re throwing your head back as he uses his grip to grind himself against you, still murmuring softly in his language. As soon as his grip eases, you brace your palms and ride him, hips rolling.

G1/IDW Thundercracker

• “Please,” that soft, almost whining whimper strokes over him as he lazily rolls his hips. “Thundercracker, I can’t.” Pinning you on your belly, legs spread so you can’t try and shut him out, his arm hooked under you just enough to keep your hips tilted where he needs them as he keeps rocking himself into you, he smiles indulgently. Feeling your slick heat quivering around his spike as he nudges you toward that peak again just so he can fill you again, because you definitely can for him. His wings shiver in lazy little tremors as he feels you clench around his spike.

• “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips tenderly brushing the back of your shoulder as he thrusts a bit harder, his servos flexing under you, brushing where you’re joined so you gasp and moan. He’s trying to kill you with pleasure, coaxing and demanding until your tired body is coiling again. Until you need it again as he adjusts his angle, spike stroking inside you and you’re crying out again, shattering. And he groans as you fist his spike, taking him along with you.

G1/IDW Jazz

• “Frag, doll,” he groans, the ragged sound of his voice winding you up as your arch under him. Servos span your sides and glide up, pulling your arms up and pinning your wrists as he rolls his hips, that big spike driving deep inside you. He’s not letting your hands loose since the feel of your hands on his spike had nearly done him in if his ragged venting is any indication. Makes you wonder what he’d do if it was your mouth on him and what kind of noises he’d make. You hook a leg over his hip, bucking your hips to chase after your own pleasure, because it’s so close. As he snarls at you in Cybertronian, you’re almost certain he’s swearing at you.

• Primus, how can you be so tight? Your heel digs into him as you grind yourself against him and he almost bites his glossa. You apparently have no patience, don’t want gentle or slow. And honestly? That’s fine by him. Growling soft, little nothings in your ear, he stops holding back. There it is, your head thrown back as he pounds into you, tenuous control fraying. Crying out his name as he takes you.

TF One Megatron

• He likes this view of you, your body spread open under him, as he props himself up on an arm. The ragged sounds of pleasure you make just for him and the wet heat of you around his spike. Fingers of his other hand sliding over the fragile line of your throat, he bucks into you, chasing down his release. You writhe under him, little pleas falling from your lips. Begging him so sweetly as he thrusts harder.

• He shifts over you, hips pinning yours to the berth as his thrusts grow more urgent and you can only hook your legs around him as he ruts into you, losing all control and it’s a powerful feeling to know you do this to him. He’s always reminding you that you’re his, but that just means he belongs to you, too. Especially as his rhythm quickens and he slides a hand under the back of your head and presses his face against your throat as you cry out, warm tremors crashing through you as his denta grip your shoulder with a snarl. Hard enough to leave a mark on that soft skin.

G1/IDW Ratchet

• Those little teeth try to bite the palm he has covering your mouth as he ruts into you from behind. The container he’s pinned you on your belly on with your hips and legs hanging is just tall enough you can’t reach the ground. Can’t do anything but squirm as he claims what’s his. Taking you like this in the medbay where anyone might walk in hadn’t been the plan, but you’d started it.

• Feeling every, deep drive of his hips, you cling to his forearm. All because you’d felt bad for Fowler getting hell from his supervisor. All you’d done was touch the guy’s arm in platonic sympathy. Next thing you know, Ratchet is picking you up in his servos, locking you both in the medbay. And taking out some pent up frustration on you, not that your complaining as you writhe under him. He stops trying to muffle your cries, gripping your hips in both hands so he can drag you back to meet his urgent thrusts and the wet sound of your bodies meeting, the feel of him inside you mixes with his rough, growling venting to send you over that edge.

G1/IDW Wheeljack

• Little hands on his vocal indicators. A soft mouth against his throat and the feel of you wrapped around his spike, so tight and wet. His hands tremble as they ghost over your ribs, scared if he holds you, his grip might bruise that soft flesh. Scared he might do something that makes you stop. So he just sits still, growling softly, systems revving as you roll your hips against his. Perched in his lap as you torment him with that slick heat and your slow, cautious rhythm. The feel of you anchoring him.

• He’s trembling under you as you ride his spike. His head falling back, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Over and over you feel his servos barely there against your cheek, your side, or your hip. Needing more contact and being denied because he seems to think he’ll break you. Pressing soft kisses against his throat, you roll your hips almost dancing in his lap. Moaning against his jaw and tracing the mesh of his neck with the tip of your tongue. And then finally whatever was holding him back snaps. Those big hands find your hips and he’s in control, thrusting up inside you as he pulls you down to meet him.

[lustagel]

LOSER! RODRICK HEFFLEY * readers race is not mentioned, mwah! . ⟡

loser! rodrick barely has any friends but his band members. only wears his bands t-shirts and listens to music that hurts your ears. always in the garage practicing with his band, if not with his girlfriend. puppy dog eyes and longing stares. not-no-secret softie. wannabe rockstar. has a shoebox hidden under his bed full of ticket stubs from concerts, crumpled notes and photos of/from his girlfriend.

loser! rodrick can't wrap his head around how he even got her in the first place and neither can his parents. ego boost after getting a girlfriend and no one knows how she even puts up with him. tries to impress her in anyway he can. mostly rolls her eyes at his stupidity but clearly finds him amusing and has a soft spot for his cluelessness.

loser! rodrick yearns for her kisses and chases her lips every time he gets a chance. smells of her almost always because he’s always around her and on her. gives the most softest kisses to the top of her ears. follows her anywhere with dreamy eyes. writes terrible songs for her but has never shared them with anyone. asks her to kiss his drummer sticks for good luck and of course she does after telling him how stupid it is.

loser! rodrick knows everything about his girlfriend. her favorite sweet treat, what makes her heart arch, the color she adores the most, what makes her laugh he most, what perfume she buys the most, her favorite show and genre, how she tastes (believes he’s been blessed by the gods themselves to even be able to get a hand on you).

୨ he's such a loser he moaned into your mouth the first time you kissed

୨ loser! rodrick following cool! reader around when she’s wearing a swimsuit

୨ cool! reader being everybody's favorite person in some way shape or form

୨ possessive! reader making out with loser! rodrick to show people he’s hers and him getting a hard-on

୨ loser! rodrick who smells like musk and two day old clothes, while his new girlfriend smells of the sweetest scents known to man

© 2024 lustagel, do not use my work for your own benefit.

asks are open! if i dont feel a spark with your ask, i wont write it n if i do, sometimes it’ll take a minute, please be patience w me! :)

[loganhowlettshousewife]

Okay relating to a recent post, cleaning up Logan after a fight/mission? Maybe you have a kit ready to go when you hear him return, put his favorite pjs on a fluff cycle so they're nice and warm for him. You clean off any blood (maybe a few remaining wounds if it was BAD bad), and wipe down his claws. Maybe shower together, letting you run your fingers through his shampooed hair before getting cozy for the night

I just wanna take care of him

you! you get it!!

comfort

summary: you take care of logan after he comes home from a mission.

cw (treating this like ao3 tags): blood, wound tending, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, not proofread at all, english isn't my first language so beware, reader has hair, i'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but i'm a girl so i may have accidentally added something gendered without realising idk. this is very soft! you can say this is out of character for logan but i believe he's actually a big softie and just wants love!

word count: 1619

logan comes home to you sitting on the couch reading a book. or, well, you’re trying to read, but it’s hard to focus on anything when logan’s out on a mission. you know he can’t die, his regenerative healing factor pretty much guarantees that, and yet there’s still an irrational spark of fear that lives in you, lighting a fire in your heart every time he gets called away by the x-men.

every minute that passes is a dagger, every new star that appears in the sky a reminder of how long he’s been gone. missions for the x-men can be mere hours or last for days, you remind yourself, and time has nothing to do with how dangerous it is.

though logan typically only gets chosen to go on the dangerous missions. he’s not the one they ask to convince new, young mutants to go to the school. he’s too harsh, too jaded.

you immediately drop the book when you hear the sound of the door lightly creaking open. you’re on your feet in an instant, there to catch logan when he falls into your arms, sweaty and bloody and tired - not as much physically, he has insane stamina, but mentally.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.

“missed you more,” you reply.

you stay like that for a few minutes. you both need the comfort. early on in your relationship, logan would refuse this type of comfort after a mission, claimed he didn’t need it, he’s fought and killed his entire life and never had a sweet thing like you to take care of him when he got back. but you did, you needed to know he was there, with you, a physical presence, proof that nothing terrible had happened to him.

secretly, he revelled in those moments. now, he trusts you enough for those feelings to be spoken out loud, whispered reverently between “i love you”s, declarations of affection and faith. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him to open up this way, to verbalise his feelings instead of swallowing them down.

“you’re covered in blood,” you comment, running a hand down his chest.

he shivers, “most of it’s not mine. but they got a few shots in.”

you hum, pulling back to take a better look at him. his shirt is torn in a few places, and in the middle of his chest are multiple neat, round holes in the fabric, small marks showing where bullets pierced his skin. the wound itself has healed, but the blood remains, a visual reminder of the pain your boyfriend was feeling not so long ago.

he may heal quickly, but he still feels pain, feels agony, and your heart shatters at the way others seem to forget that, so quick to put him in the line of fire. he’ll be fine, they say, and while that may be true physically, there’s only so many times a man can play human shield before he breaks.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, the next part of your routine for when he returns from missions. 

it’s a dance you’ve almost perfected, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and you have to walk to the bathroom with him clinging to you. 

he sits down on the closed toilet seat, closing his eyes and letting you do all the work. his claws come out next, stained with the blood of those he harmed and killed, yet you trace them softly all the same. they protect you - he protects you, really, and so you’ll always be grateful for them, even when logan considers them a curse, a stain upon his existence, turning a man into a monster.

you grab a washcloth and dampen it, wiping meticulously at each sharp blade, from his knuckle to the pointed tip of the adamantium. soon, the washcloth is stained a dirty red, almost brown in its appearance, and the metal gleams brightly under the bathroom lights.

there’s an ease to his posture when he retracts his claws, so slight a difference that no one else would have noticed. he told you once that he can feel the blood remaining on his claws when they pull back into his skin, that it’s an uncomfortable reminder that he’s hurt people, that he’s a killer.

he doesn’t clean them himself, says the reminder is necessary. you disagree, and so you took to wiping them down yourself every time he came home after any sort of fight.  

there’s a small spot of blood between each of his knuckles where the claws pierce his skin, the tiniest bit of red that welled up before the cuts could heal themselves and you wipe that away too. then you lean down to press soft kisses to his hands, the part of himself that logan hates most.

he sighs, a shaky exhale leaving him at the sight of you lowering onto your knees to worship him, to prove your adoration.

any other time that would be enough to turn the mood of the evening into something much different, but he isn’t willing to give this up quite yet, this soft intimacy that’s always felt so foreign to him, a type of love he’d convinced himself he would never get to experience.

“i’m gonna go throw our pajamas and a few blankets into the dryer. you can get the shower going in the meantime, ‘kay?” he agrees easily, of course, and you lean up to kiss him, slow and soft.

pulling away is almost physically painful but you manage. you find the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants you originally bought for logan as a joke as well as the matching set you bought yourself and grab the blanket that sits at the foot of your bed, throwing them into the dryer to warm them up.

he sleeps naked most days, a blessing for you, but on his more difficult days he likes to cuddle up to soft, plush fabrics. besides, you like to think that the silly pajama pants bring him comfort, a reminder of your love for him, that you’re thinking about him even at the most inopportune of times.

he’s in the shower when he returns, the water tinged pink as it slides down the hard, muscled planes of his body. you’re quick to undress and join him, stepping under the hot water, feeling it soak into your hair and skin.

“you’re gorgeous,” logan says, grabbing onto your waist with his large hands to pull you to his chest. he brushes your wet hair out of your face. “can’t believe how lucky i am to have you. what did i ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?”

“you don’t have to do anything to deserve me, logan,” you say, ��just being you is enough. and really, you do so much for me. every day.”

“loving you is the best thing i ever did,” he admits, “i’m gonna continue to do whatever i need to keep you. wanna be with you until i die.”

you’ve had conversations like these before, usually always in moments of vulnerability, often coming after devastation and horror. he doesn’t say these types of things in the light of day, but he doesn’t take them back later either. they just stay, floating in the air between you.

one day, you think, you’ll be able to have a real conversation about the future with him. it’s a goal to look towards, but he’s not quite there yet, and you’re okay with that. you’re content with what he does tell you, praise that he marks into every inch of your body.

you use your body wash to clean him, knowing he’ll smell faintly of you afterwards, and the possessive part of you is pleased. your hands tangle in his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp. his head is tilted down so you can have better access. 

it gets harder to finish cleaning him as his body leans into yours, two magnets always seeking each other. 

you exit the shower before him, allowing him a few more seconds under the water pressure to pull the last remnants of tension from his form. you pat yourself dry and then hurriedly grab the garments you’ve thrown into the dryer, stepping back into the humid bathroom as logan turns off the water.

the adrenaline has made way for bone-deep exhaustion, and so you help logan dry off.

it’s peaceful, quiet, as the two of you finish your nighttime routines. he brushes his teeth and watches you do your skincare routine, unwilling to go into your bedroom if you’re not by his side.

he falls asleep before you, for once. typically, he struggles to fall asleep, worried about the nightmares that plague his slumber and the possibility of harming you while unconscious. it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully, the stern lines of his face flattening into a soft tranquillity that only you get to see.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy but you need to watch him just a little longer. so you fight the darkness that wants to pull you under, focusing on the hand you have placed on logan’s chest, the way you can feel the steady rising and falling of his breathing, the way his warm skin feels against the palm of your hand. 

“i’ll always come back to you,” he’d told you once when you had expressed the worry that seizes hold of you whenever he’s away for long.

you’re smiling when you fall asleep, those words replaying in your mind. he’s home, with you, and as long as he comes home to you everything will be okay.

[acciotaitlynn]

It's only been a few months since you and Xavier started your new chapter together, but already, you can't envision life without him. Moving so far from your best friend is proving to be difficult, but things get a lot worse when Sylus...catches feelings?

♡ pt.1

‧₊˚ ┊xavier⤷fem!reader⤶sylus

‧₊˚ ┊sexual content, 18+, smut with some plot, angst, unprotected sex, oral;꒰f&m receiving꒱fingering, handjob, restraints, marking/claiming, overstim, non/dub somnophilia, polyamory, cuckold themes, "guide my hand. tell me where to touch her, xavier," type thing, rough & soft, mostly softie sylus, there's a little heat between the guys, reader is not mc from lads

‧₊˚ ┊25k wc

༝ domxavier/subsylus/subreader, but all switch a bit (give sub sylus a chance 😩)

༝ pet names used: sweetie, dove, little birdie/angel, baby,"toy", good girl

This is pt.2 to a request I really enjoyed doing. I started writing this immediately after pt.1, but it took forever. I had to find a way to justify hurting Xavier that didn't make me hate myself 😭 let it be known that some sparks start flying between the guys halfway through a certain scene 🙈 they were begging; I couldn't help it. Not edited. I don't want to look at it ever again 😵‍💫 Tags: @littlecrow-littledove @lilithdaintyrose @cordidy: the sylus and mai scene is at the end if you want to skip to it!

The scent of something burning rips you from your dreams, prompting a low, frustrated groan as you force yourself to sit up and peer around your room. Over the past six months, the lingering smell has become all too familiar. When moving in with Xavier, you had no clue that he was such a terrible cook. Which wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t insist on making you breakfast every morning. The thoughtfulness of it warms your heart, but secretly, you wish you could ban him from the kitchen altogether.

Soft fairy lights guide your way down the hallway as you slip on a robe. “We need to set a new rule,” you mumble groggily upon locking eyes with Xavier’s wide, innocent gaze. He stands clutching a tray of burnt biscuits, frantically fanning the smoke hanging in the air.

“Please wait until I wake up to cook. You need supervision, and I’m exhausted from being woken up so early,” you pout. He gives you his best puppy-dog eyes, mimicking your displeased expression before tossing the charred lumps into the trash with an exaggerated “Fine.”

A teasing, sultry smile curls your lips as you draw close, cradling his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Xavier takes in your adorable, sleep-rumpled features with a smile as your touch grows more insistent. “I am pretty hungry though… and since you ruined breakfast, this will have to do,” you whisper, desire taking you hostage as your gaze traces his bare chest.

Fingers sneaking under the waistband of his sweatpants, you shoot him a mischievous grin. His pretty eyes darken as you drop to your knees before him, taking his boxers down with you. Xavier’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you kneeling, a quiet curse slipping out as you lift your shirt just enough for him to glimpse your breasts. Bunching your hair up, you guide his hand in a silent gesture. His fingers instantly tangle, tugging tight as your tongue flicks over the tip of his cock to taste him.

The suction of your lips around his head has him swollen and firm under your touch in seconds. Cupping your chin, his hand guides you as you take him in completely, moaning at his taste as he fills your throat. Taking him deep a few times and popping him out, you spit on his length, coating it languidly as you meet his gaze.

“I think it’s only fair that you feed me...” you murmur, wrapping his free hand around his shaft. With your mouth open wide and your tongue flat, you invite him in. Tightening his grip on your hair, his eyes fill with so much desire they make your body hum with delight. Adjusting your face to his liking, he fucks it without hesitation. Xavier knows your desire is to please him, and he’s more than willing to oblige.

With deep, precise thrusts, he aims to leave your pretty face ruined when he’s finished. At his climax, Xavier pushes his cock deep it brings a jolt of pain, releasing his warm, comforting release while he strokes your hair tenderly. Greedily swallowing every drop, a sated hum leaves you as tears stream down your cheeks, gagging and drooling around him.

Lifting you onto the counter, Xavier meets your blissful gaze, wasting no time before his fingers slip under your shorts. It feels so good when his finger slides through your slick folds that it pains you to pull away, trapping his hands in yours. Gently freeing himself from your grasp, he instinctively reaches for you again. Giving you a petulant look, he retorts, “But I’m hungry too…” before silencing you with a needy kiss.

Rejecting Xavier is incredibly challenging. With an undeniably addictive touch, his kicked-puppy expression only adds to the allure. Cupping your breast, his teeth tease a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting soft whimpers from you as he tries to break your resolve. While he almost succeeds, you gather your composure and push him back gently. His pouty face brings a smile to your lips as you playfully poke his rosy cheek. “I’m already running late.”

“You know I’ll make it quick.” His voice, low and sensual, stirs your desire, making your thighs press together in an attempt to restrain your arousal. Yet, you counter, “Yeah, right. One orgasm from me turns you into a hungry beast who craves more. You’ll have me missing work altogether if you get a taste.” 

Acknowledging that you’re right, he rolls his eyes, looking every bit like a disappointed child. But in moments, his expression softens as he cups your cheek, giving your nose a gentle nuzzle. “You owe me dinner later, angel,” he murmurs, smirking at your blushing cheeks before heading for the fridge.

As you rush and prepare for the day, you pause to embrace Xavier on your way out. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, he offers a gentle smile and inquires, “What time do you finish work tonight? I’ll grab takeout before you get home. No cooking, I promise.”

A wave of guilt washes over you. You haven't told Xavier of your plans with Sylus yet. You’ve been dreading this moment—Sylus is a delicate topic lately, prompting you to avoid mentioning him altogether.

Letting an apology shine in your eyes, you meet Xavier’s gaze. “I forgot to mention that Sylus will be in town today... We’re meeting up for drinks. You’re more than welcome to join us,” you offer hesitantly.

A mix of emotions crosses his features as he backs away. Unease wars within Xavier as he questions, “He was just here. Why does he need to return so soon?” 

“He has something to take care of nearby, and he thought it would be nice to see me while he’s in town,” you explain, deliberately omitting the part where Sylus mentioned it would be a wasted trip without seeing you.

He shoots you a cold glare that strikes like a physical blow. “I’m not really in the mood to go out. I picked up a book yesterday that I’m eager to start,” he responds, leaning in to give you a soft kiss. The way he avoids meeting your eyes makes your heart sink. “Stay safe. The offer for takeout still stands,” he mentions before heading towards the bedroom.

You shut your eyes, taking long, deep breaths in an attempt to quell your anxiety. This tension with Xavier is agonizing, especially since he’s always been your pillar of comfort and happiness. And knowing he has valid reasons to feel uneasy hurts you more than anything else.

Initially, when you moved here, Sylus would stop by a couple of times a month. But recently, his visits have become increasingly frequent. Last month alone, he made eight trips, causing Xavier to grow suspicious of his intentions. Sylus maintains that he’s in the area for business purposes, a fact that secretly brings you solace as you miss his presence. Having been a constant in your life for nine years, the distance feels unsettling.

Resolving to ask Sylus to reduce his visits, you hope it will alleviate some of Xavier’s concerns. Nevertheless, a sense of sorrow hangs over you like a shadow throughout the day, intensifying each time your friend crosses your mind.

A smirk dances on Sylus’s lips as he slides a bag across the table and settles into the booth. Suspicion washes over you, shooting a look of betrayal at the gift.

“Why do you insist on torturing me like this?” you exclaim, frustration creeping into your voice. You hate receiving gifts, a fact that Sylus is well aware of.

“Is it really torture, sweetie? You insist on using my phone to search for things you want, then act surprised when I buy them for you,” he replies, a teasing gleam in his eyes as he leans back.

With an exasperated sigh, you peek into the bag and spot a pair of boots you remember trying on during a shopping trip. “I never searched for these, Sylus! I only tried them on that day!” you protest, skepticism coloring your tone.

He casually shrugs, draping his arm over the booth while scanning the room with his piercing crimson gaze. “Fortunately for you, this bar doesn’t offer karaoke,” he quips, flashing a wicked grin.

“That’s exactly why I picked it,” you shoot back, grimacing in annoyance as he playfully tousles your hair.

His tone shifts to amusement as he warns, “Don’t underestimate me—I might just stand on this table and start a choir, sweetie. You’re tempting fate.”

As the drinks flow and the conversation continues, you find it increasingly difficult to leave. The night grows late, and although you should head home, a sense of concern gnaws at you when you notice Sylus gazing absently at a TV across the room. 

Offering him a gentle smile, you move to his side of the booth. A fleeting expression flips across his features, disappearing before you can place it. His usual composed, slightly cocky demeanor slides in effortlessly to take its place.

“Ever heard of personal space, dove?” he teases, raising an eyebrow with a smirk as he looks at you. Unfazed, you roll your eyes. “Since when has that been an issue?”

For a brief moment, hesitation crosses his face before his grin widens. Slipping an arm around your shoulders, he eases back, sighing softly as he rests his head against yours.

Seeing Sylus so weary and worn out—a rare sight—causes worry to wrap around your heart. In an attempt to lift his spirits, you playfully tickle his side, but he intercepts your hand, shooting you a warning glare that silently says, “Behave.”

Smiling, you lean into him, closing your eyes to savor the comfortable silence enveloping you both. It takes you a few moments to realize that Sylus is still holding your hand, cradling it delicately where it rests on his thigh. Without a second thought, you intertwine your fingers with his, giving a gentle squeeze. Grip tightening briefly, his eyes snap open as his silver brows furrow in surprise.

He relaxes quickly, though, his lips curving into a small smile as his thumb lightly traces your skin. A strange warmth flutters through you at his gentle touch. Your eyes widen as they focus on his hand, noticing how it swallows yours whole. How can hands so large feel so gentle? Suddenly feeling inexplicably nervous, you clear your throat to distract yourself. 

“Do you need to vent about anything? I can tell you're not doing well…” you start, worry seeping into your voice.

He remains silent for a long moment before murmuring, “I appreciate the offer, dove. But not this time.” 

A fresh wave of apprehension rises as you resist the urge to pry. Sylus always opens up when he’s ready. “Okay,” you whisper, squeezing his hand reassuringly before pulling away. Your frantic heart slows, an odd sense of relief washing over you as the contact ends. Thinking of Xavier waiting for you, you suddenly feel very eager to get home. “I need to get going. It’s getting late,” you say with a smile.

Confusion fills you when Sylus releases his hold on your shoulder but doesn’t get up to leave with you. Instead, his eyes lock onto yours for a long moment before he replies, “I think I’ll stay for a while, sweetie. Be safe getting home.” 

His demeanor suddenly turns distant as he shuts his eyes again in a silent dismissal. The fierce stinging sensation in your chest at what feels like a rejection surprises you. Irritation bubbles up as you grab your purse and silently leave the bar.

Xavier is still awake when you get home, lounging on the couch with a nearly finished book in his hands. Slipping onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, you draw him in for a lingering kiss. He greets you with a gentle smile before turning back to his reading, absentmindedly stroking your hair. Resting your head against his chest, you listen to his slow, steady heartbeat, feeling immediate relief as your body relaxes and the day's worries ease away.

You drift in and out of sleep as he finishes the last few chapters of his book, stirring as he sets it aside. Kicking out the footrest, he pulls you on top of him, enfolding you in his arms and nuzzling your neck with a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he murmurs, pressing delicate kisses to your skin. 

You lean into his touch effortlessly. “It’s okay... I promise I understand.” Savoring his taste, your tongue explores his mouth languidly as your fingers trail under his shirt.

Body becoming pliant in your hands, Xavier silently grants you permission to do as you please. You straddle him, deepening the kiss as you grind down on his erection with a slow roll of your hips. 

Tangling your fingers in his hair and gripping tightly, you elicit a strained gasp of pleasure. His pretty eyes flutter shut as his hands find your waist and guide your movements.

Each taste of his skin and sweat is amplified by the sweet sounds escaping him as your lips trace the contours of his neck. “Don’t I owe you dinner?” you whisper with a mischievous smile. 

He hesitates briefly, his eyes flickering away before he murmurs, “What if I just lay here, and you use my body in any way you want.” Arousal courses through you, your cheeks flushing furiously at his words. The request is something new from him. Intercepting your hands as they wander to his pants, he gently commands, “Clothes off, angel.”

Blushing even deeper, you stand and slowly remove your dress, unhook your bra, and slip off your panties. Xavier’s throat bobs, awe shining in his voice as his gaze wanders your form. “You are so beautiful…” he murmurs.

Your heart clenches painfully at the deep adoration in his eyes. With a tender smile, you beam back at him.

Just as you’re about to straddle him again, you pause, eyeing his clothed body with a pout. His voice shimmers with need as he responds, “Don’t people dress their dolls up for different occasions? My owner will have to tell me how she wants me.” There’s a faint roughness to his tender tone, an undercurrent of raw emotion sending shivers down your spine. 

Suddenly, you feel incredibly nervous about this shift in dynamic. But you resolve to give Xavier what he’s asking for—what he seems to need, judging by the plea in his eyes. Voice soft but firm, you instruct, “Then, for starters, I’d like my toy naked and in my bed.” He gives you a gentle smile and a lingering kiss before leaving the room. 

Xavier typically prefers taking on a dominant role in bed, which suits your tastes perfectly. But you can’t deny the excitement bubbling at the thought of reversing roles. And if you were going to do this, you’re all in.

Arousal washes over you when you enter the bedroom and see his naked form. He’s already hard and ready for you, the sight making your breath catch as a string of precum trails from his cock to his boxers when he frees himself. 

Heat sparks in Xavier’s eyes when he notices the ropes you’re carrying. He appears almost nervous as you softly instruct him, “Rest back against the headboard for me.” Tying his arms and legs to each end of the bed, you silently restrain him. Once you’re confident he won’t free himself, you straddle him again and grab the scarf.

Eyes widening in surprise before everything goes dark, his body starts to tremble as you lean in and press your tongue into his eager mouth. Gentle caresses slowly ignite with intensity as you bite and suck at his lips until they’re slick and puffy.

He’s simply perfect. Lips parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his body quivering at even the lightest of your touches. Cupping his cheeks, you kiss from his forehead down to his nose. A strained breath escapes him as his hips subtly grind into the air.

His voice carries an undeniable plea as he murmurs, “Please… I need to hear your voice.” 

The control you hold over him fills you with giddiness as a smile lights up your face. Your voice is teasing and sensual as you reply, “Hmm… I’ll talk to you. As long as you behave like my good, sweet boy.” 

Brushing your thumb over his perked nipple, you elicit a low, decadent sound in response. Your breath catches as his cock twitches beneath you in reaction to your words. 

“I’ll be so good for you, angel, I promise,” he breathes. 

“My poor baby,” you murmur, gathering some of his pre-cum on your fingertips before licking them clean with a pleased hum. His erection looks painfully hard. 

“That sure looks like it hurts,” you muse with feigned concern. Your touch brushes him lightly again as you ask, “Is it uncomfortable, Xai?” 

Wiggling in the restraints, his hips grind up in a desperate attempt to seek friction as he nods frantically. Stroking him slowly, you spread his essence around until he’s giving you sweet little moans. When he’s close to finishing, you let his length plop onto his stomach, earning a pained groan in return. 

“Want to mark your body this time…” you murmur. Xavier nearly whines as you work a bruise on his skin with deep pulls of your mouth. Arousal floods you as you pull back to admire your work with a faint smile. 

You can understand now why putting marks on you is such a potent aphrodisiac for Xavier. Watching the bruise darken, you feel as if you might burn alive. His form quivers as you place your palm over the spot, with only one word running through your mind—mine. 

Moving over his chest slowly, you create a few more marks before warming his nipple with your breath as you pull it into your mouth. A low groan escapes as his head tilts back with a low, broken curse. Grinning at his needy sounds, you tease him with flicks of your tongue. His strangled voice tugs at your heart. “Do—do you like using me like this?” Hope colors his voice, a blush spreading beneath the blindfold. 

“I love it... I love you,” you admit softly, your cheeks reflecting his rosy hue.

He groans, pleading, “Kiss me—even just once…” 

To tease him, you tighten his restraints a bit, definitely not expecting him to mumble “tighter.” 

Worry stirs within you as you comply, the ropes digging into his skin—enough to surely leave marks. He assures you that he's okay, though, sinking into the bed and murmuring, “Perfect.”

Sliding down his body, your fingertips trail over his abs as you settle between his legs. Pressing kisses just above his cock, your tongue flicks out to taste him. 

His hips grind up with a frustrated groan when he doesn’t feel the warmth of your mouth envelop him after the teasing touch.  “And you call me a slut…” you tease, clicking your tongue in mock disapproval.

Sucking one of his balls into your mouth, you release it with a wet pop and a pleased hum. The restraints tighten as he curses and tugs on them in exasperation before trying to calm himself. Head tilting back, he takes deep breaths, biting his bottom lip sharp enough to draw blood. His amusement shines through as he asks, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Humming in confirmation, your words are a teasing melody as you taunt, “Tell me how much you like being my pretty little fuck toy, Xavier. Need to hear you say it…” 

Struggling to speak, his cock pulsing under the press of your lips, he manages, “I—fuck, baby. You know I do. Now please suck my cock… Just—just for a minute, angel?” he pleads. 

Giggling, you murmur, “Okayy… but only for a minute.” Languidly sucking around the edges, you feel him grow even firmer beneath your teasing tongue. Sounds of raw desire slip from you both, twisting your core into knots as you take him deep into your throat.

Burying himself to the hilt with a pointed thrust, you allow him this moment, holding still as he fucks your face with slow, deliberate strokes. Then, you pop him out of your mouth with a teasing smile, caressing his length as you scold, “Dolls don’t move on their own, Xavier. They stay still and do as they’re told.” 

His lips part in disbelief before a smile stretches across his face. Relaxing against the headboard, his voice is rough as he replies, “Yes, ma’am.” 

Admiring the sheer pleasure you’re bringing him, nearly high on his ecstasy alone, you whisper,  “Good boy,” before taking him into your mouth again. Desperate to fulfill his desires, you put your heart into every stroke and flick of your tongue until he’s whining beneath you. 

Kissing along his shaft, you whisper tender praises along his skin, his pretty sounds growing needier. As he nears climax, you draw back, eliciting a frustrated growl. Giggling, you guide his cock through your wet folds as you straddle his hips. A pained sound escapes him as his body trembles with restraint.

Guiding his chin, you study his face and the blush on his cheeks. “Xavier?” He tilts his head a little, his lips forming a gentle smile. Kissing him delicately, you murmur, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Lost in the sensation of grinding against him, his warmth sliding through your slippery folds, you both cling to each other tightly, savoring the intimacy.

“Don’t cum yet, Xavier. Just me,” you scold playfully. With a firm nod and a strained breath, his head knocks against the headboard.

Smiling against his lips, your tongue seeking his, you wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him close. 

Your hips move faster as you chase release, your breath gentle against his ear. “You break me apart without even touching me…” Nuzzling into his neck with a needy moan as your orgasm approaches, your core tightens almost painfully. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard…” Just before you do, you impale yourself fully on him, clenching and pulsating around him in waves. A strangled, needy sound escapes you both as you eagerly bounce on his cock.

“Need to see you,” you whisper as you remove the blindfold, gazing into his eyes and kissing him again. Brows knitting together, he searches your face. The desire and love etched into your features push him dangerously closer to what he's been instructed not to do.

Xavier needed this so badly—he needed to feel your desire for him, even if he couldn’t fully grasp why. Desperately craving to see if using him for your pleasure would drive you as wild as it does him. Relief washes over him as he observes your blissful expression before your lips melt against his neck as you quietly chant his name against his skin like a prayer.

Gently gripping his throat, you kiss him, whispering, “I…I take it back… Please fill me up.” Xavier groans, nibbling and tugging at your lip, urging you to meet his gaze. Watching every flicker of ecstasy that graces his face as he releases himself, he struggles to keep his eyes on yours until they finally shut as his head falls back, his reverence for you escaping in a murmur. You keep riding him until he’s squirming in his restraints, begging you for a break.

Sliding him out of you with a grin, you playfully nuzzle his face. “Is my sweet boy feeling sensitive?” you pout, earning a raised brow and an amused grin from him. “You’re the literal Overstim King, babe. You can handle it,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you begin untying his restraints.

The moment he’s free, Xavier cradles you from behind and slides back inside you. Pulling you close and burying himself deep, he relaxes against you with a soft, happy sigh. Adjusting your pillow as you pull up the covers, you nestle against him as his cock softens inside you, finding instant relaxation in his embrace.

As sleep begins to take you, you remember that Xavier is leaving for a mission the next day. “Do you know when you’ll be back from the trip?”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t be more than two days. I have to leave early... probably before you wake up,” he replies in a drowsy murmur. 

The thought makes you unbearably sad. Two days seems short, but you haven't been apart from Xavier for longer than a day since moving in together.  “Fine. But promise to text me every chance you get,” you grumble. Sealing the pact with your pinkies, he chuckles softly before drifting into a peaceful slumber, pulling you along with him.

Waking late in the morning, you take a deep breath of air free from the scent of burnt biscuits, and it hits you that there might be one silver lining to Xavier spending a few days away. Seizing the moment, you decide to clean while you have the place to yourself. At first, you’re singing and dancing around as you work, your mood high as you move through the house. But it isn’t long before nagging thoughts drown out the music and sour your good mood. Sylus was really upset last night… You sensed it but chose not to push him; that approach has never been effective in the past. The sadness etched in his features, and the slump of his shoulders were unlike him, and each step makes the memory of his troubled face pierce your heart a little deeper.

Spotting a vase of flowers left by Xavier, you open a note that reads, “I miss you already, beautiful,” alongside a doodle of a smiling star. A giddy feeling washes over you, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks as flashes of last night consume your thoughts. Was Xavier able to hide the marks the ropes left on his wrists? Will he pleasure himself to the memory while he’s gone? 

Reluctantly, you gather yourself before you can spiral out of control, refocusing on the task at hand. You had said nothing to Sylus about cutting back on his visits last night… You couldn’t—not when he showed up looking so worn down. The constant anxiety this discourse is bringing is becoming downright exhausting. Perhaps some time away from both of them will help you sort through your increasingly complicated feelings.

The way your heart faltered last night when you entwined your fingers with Sylus’s... It was a simple gesture, no different from his arm around your shoulders, yet it carried an intimacy that none of your previous touches have. And the way his thumb brushed your skin as he turned to you with those striking eyes…

Striking? … This is Sylus you’re talking about… You’ve always thought his eyes were pretty, sure, but striking? You quickly shut down that line of thought and the idea that there might be a twinge of attraction towards your best friend. Deciding to ditch the cleaning for now, you opt for a jog around the block to clear your head.

It’s futile, the exercise helps push the uncomfortable thoughts aside only temporarily. Upon returning home, you find the source of your unease sitting on your sofa, reassembling a handgun. Your heart thumps at seeing him, but you narrow your eyes and ask, for what feels like the millionth time, “How did you get in here, Sylus?”

He meets your irritated gaze with a raised brow and a bored look. “You already know the answer to that, dove. Maybe you should start asking why I’m here instead.” His expression reveals nothing about how he’s feeling today, but he looks at you as softly as he always does.

Sitting beside him, you earn a confused glance as your knee brushes against his thigh, and you pull away to create more space between you. It so feels strange to shy away from his touch. His stare is thoughtful as he searches your face before ultimately looking away.

He cleans the gun with familiar, meticulous movements. Stretching out long on the sofa, you prop your head on a cushion to watch him. The comforting sound of the cloth brushing over metal and Sylus’s presence quickly brings you a sense of serenity. But the worry still lingers…

“Sy? Why are you here?” you ask gently.

He glances your way, and for a moment, you expect him to dismiss your concern. Instead, he averts his gaze and replies, “Because I wanted to see you.”

Instinctively moving closer again, you sigh as you lean on his shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you stopped by, then.”

He chuckles softly, setting the weapon aside and resting his head against yours. Despite how much you detest bringing her up, you force yourself to ask, “How is Mai?”

Sylus stiffens beside you. He’s silent for so long that you wonder if he heard you, but eventually, he responds, “Your guess is as good as mine, dove.”

Confusion washes over you as you pull back to meet his gaze. “Did something happen?”

The corners of his lips curl slightly, but the expression is humorless. His eyes remain unreadable as he responds, “If you consider us breaking up as ‘something,’ then yes, sweetie. Something happened.” The wall he’s trying to build between you is almost visible as he tries to reinforce it.

Taking his chin in a firm hold, you give him an annoyed look that mirrors his own. “Why are you suddenly guarding yourself against me? Have I done something wrong?” You try to mask the hurt in your voice, but it’s too late; your eyes brim with tears.

Grimacing when he sees one fall, his hand cups your cheek as his thumb gently brushes it away. He lingers in the moment, tracing your skin as he searches for the right words to say.

Why does his touch feel so different now? Why do you suddenly ache to lean into it, to have more of it? Sylus pulls his hand back but keeps his gaze locked on yours. “I’ve spoken to you of the other two men who are tangled in her web,” he starts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before continuing. 

His long fingers have splayed over your thigh before, but they’ve never made your heart race like this. Have his hands always been this beautiful? It takes everything in you to remain calm while he speaks. Though his tone is bored, genuine emotion swirls behind his eyes, his grip on you tightening slightly.

“After Xavier found a way to escape her hold, Mai decided she needed to tighten her grip on the rest of us.” He sighs, leaning his head back and giving you a tender smile when he sees the horror and anger in your eyes. 

“Sylus…” You begin, but he cuts you off, his voice soft. “You know me, dove—while her choosing to fuck them was painful, it wasn’t the issue.” 

Suddenly, he grabs your chin, drawing your face close to his. “How could you not tell me that Mai purposely put you in danger that day?” His voice trembles with fierce anger and hurt, flashing across his features.

Instinctively, you jerk back, releasing a surprised squeak when his grip tightens, pulling you back in.

Looking down at your lap, shame laces your words as you admit, “You love her so much, Sy… I  just— I didn’t want to hurt you...”

Genuine exasperation takes over as he guides your face back to his, murmuring, “Didn’t want to hurt me? But you let me—” He closes his eyes, struggling to steady himself. “How do you think I felt when I found out what she did, having had my cock filling her just hours before? Did you think I would be okay knowing I made love to her for months after she tried to have you killed?” 

His voice is a low, furious growl. Gently cradling your face, he searches your eyes, his expression softening when he sees the confusion and fear.

Taken aback by the intense emotion radiating from him, you can barely get your words out as you whisper, “I’m so sorry, Sylus.”

While you knew Sylus would be pissed if he ever found out what Mai did, you never expected a reaction like this. And you certainly hadn’t thought he would end their relationship over it. His head rests against yours as he releases a deep sigh. “I understand why you didn’t tell me, dove. And while I appreciate your concern—” anger swirls in his eyes as he continues, “Don’t ever do something like this to me again.”

Your eyes widen at the underlying warning in his tone. Nodding softly, you search his face, your eyes flickering rapidly over his features in an attempt to guess his next move. When his eyes drift to your lips, lingering for a moment too long, you panic, thinking he will kiss you.

But instead, he lays down on the sofa, pulling you down with him. 

As his large body envelopes you from behind, you tense with thoughts of Xavier filling your mind. You kissed him in this very spot just last night. Guilt and fear consume you at the thought of him finding you and Sylus like this. Because the way Sylus is holding you is nothing like his typical friendly touches. This is intimate, and his hold on you is almost possessive. 

Sensing your hesitation, Sylus rubs soothing circles on your stomach, the delicate touch sending shivers up your spine. Like honeyed whiskey, his voice wraps around your body and binds it in place. “Relax, sweetie. Your precious hunter isn’t due home for another day.” You immensely regret sharing that information. Your cheeks heat, and your heart pounds, pulling a surprised gasp from you as his breath tickles your ear.

“Consider it your penance for hurting me,” he murmurs, pulling you closer as he settles against you. You want to ask him why he’s acting this way, but the words won’t come. After a while, your body relaxes in his familiar embrace, and you wake hours later to find it dark outside. Drowsiness fades instantly when you feel Sylus’s hand on your bare skin.

At some point, his hand found its way under your shirt, resting just below your breast. Shock bolts you off the couch, propelling you a safe distance away. Disbelief floods your features when you see Sylus wide awake, an amused grin spreading across his face as he watches you panic.

“What has you so flustered, dove? I touch you all the time, do I not?” 

Your lips part in surprise as you search his mirthful gaze. “You know damn well that was different, Sylus!” 

He stands, shrugging and not bothering to respond. You nearly jump out of your skin when he reaches over to brush your hair back. Pulling back completely when his fingers skim your neck, anger swells up at the boundaries he’s so boldly crossing. 

Narrowing your eyes, you snap, “Don’t touch me like that again, Sy, or you’ll lose the right to touch me at all.”

He looks genuinely taken aback before donning his mask, effortlessly taking on his usual calm, cocky demeanor. Gathering his jacket and keys, he grins and asks, “Are we still having dinner tomorrow, or is that not allowed anymore?” 

Having had it with his attitude, you shoot him a cold look. “I think I’ll pass.” 

He chuckles and nods, tossing a casual “See you later, then, sweetie” over his shoulder on his way out.

Growling and throwing a pillow at the front door as hard as possible, you imagine it’s Sylus’s face. The anger subsides much too quickly, and you collapse to the floor, cradling your head as guilt and pain overwhelm you.

“I’m here because I wanted to see you.” 

“Didn’t want to hurt me? But you let me—”

Your phone pings on the coffee table like a gunshot in the stillness of your home. A picture of Xavier lights up the screen. Your heart aches a million times more as his pouty face and blue eyes pierce into you. 

Xavier: Hot pot when I get home?

Xavier: All they’ve fed me R peanut butter sandwiches…

Xavier: I let them know they need to adjust their meal plan. How R we supposed to fight Wanderers on nothing but fumes? 

Xavier: Please send meat

Xavier: Can’t wait to see you, angel <3

Unable to think of a single thing to say, you set the phone back on the table, retreating to the safety of your bed. Breathing in Xavier’s scent as you hug his pillow, tears form in your eyes as you shut them tight and imagine he’s holding you. Clinging to his presence in your mind, you let it wrap you in its safe embrace as you drift off to sleep. 

Whether it’s due to physical exhaustion, mental anguish, or both, you sleep for eleven hours straight. To be honest, you could go for eleven more. Weighed down by thoughts and emotions, your body aches as if you’re sick. But it feels like the perfect night for wine and a movie. The horror flick plays in the background as you text Xavier back.

Xavier: R U sure ur not sick? U should try to get some more rest

Xavier: I’ll be home in the morning to take care of you

You: Tell them I’m deathly ill & need you tonight :’ (

Xavier: Will tell them I'm starving to death and have to go home

Xavier: I got U a Wanderer plushie. It's ugly, but U will like it

Xavier: Wear 1 of my sweaters until I can hold you <3

You: Already in 1 ; )

Xavier: …omw home they’ll be fine without me

A giddy grin lights your face as you start thinking about Xavier’s hands traveling under said sweater and—

A knock at the front door interrupts your growing fantasy, instantly cloaking you in unease.

Barefoot, you pad down the hall, wondering whether or not you want to open it, as there’s only one person it could be.

Sylus’s disheveled appearance pulls a startled gasp from you. His hair is messy from the grip of his hands—a telltale sign of his anxiety. Rosy cheeks and ears, his red eyes burn brightly as they pierce through your very being. The smell of whiskey is potent, but you’d know he’s drunk even without it. The unfamiliar heat brewing in his eyes as his gaze traces your curves shakes you to your core.

Sadness still clings to him like a dark cloud, prompting you to keep your voice gentle as you ask, “What are you doing here?”

You’ve never seen Sylus falter before, but he does as he searches your face. “I just—” he shakes his head, trailing off hesitantly.

Putting some distance between the two of you might be best, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away when he’s in such obvious pain. His face lifts in surprise as you give him a soft smile, taking his hand and guiding him inside.

Leading him to the kitchen, you force him to drink two tall glasses of water before sitting on the counter and studying him closely. As he observes you back, the moment feels reminiscent of the staring contests the two of you often hold. Both of you smile softly as if thinking of the same memory. Sylus is much more open and honest when he drinks this much... This may be an opportune time to get some answers.

“What’s going on with you lately? And why are you standing way over there?” you ask, noticing he still stands at the kitchen’s entryway, looking almost nervous. 

Irritation flashes on his features as he replies, “I’m no longer allowed to touch you. I wasn’t sure if I have a proximity limit now, too.” 

Disbelief clouds your voice as you snap, “Don’t play dumb, Sylus. You know damn well that having your hand that close to my breast was not one of your typical touches!”

Sylus tilts his head, observing you intently. His soft voice takes your breath away as he says, “I’m beginning to see that the way I touch you has never been mere friendliness.”

Somewhere between a scoff and a squeak, you choke out, “What? Sylus! You don’t mean that!” Sylus chuckles and gives you a sad smile when you make the words sound like an indisputable fact.

He comes closer, stopping just shy of your knees. Propping his hand on the counter beside you, he carefully adheres to your no-touching rule. When his eyes meet yours, they hold a desperate plea. “I need permission to touch you one last time, dove.” 

Your heart cracks at “one last time.”

“Why?” you barely manage to whisper.

“I need to show you something,” he murmurs.

Confusion and unease spike at his words, but without much thought, you find yourself nodding in silent permission. The light returning to his eyes melts your heart in ways it shouldn’t.

His fingers brush your cheek and travel down your neck just like yesterday. Though he’s barely touching you, his warmth feels searing, and it’s taking every bit of your self-control to remain still.

His touch travels your arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake as you manage to utter a strangled, “W–why are you…” 

His fingers brush down your arm and neck again as he asks, “How many times have I touched you like this, sweetie?” 

Your throat bobs nervously as your wide eyes watch his hand travel across your body. “Um… a lot, I guess…” you admit quietly.

He hums, nodding in agreement as he traces shapes on your stomach. “And here?” You give him a clipped nod, releasing a huff of breath as you shut your eyes tight and try to convince yourself that you hate what's happening.

Slipping under your sweater, the traces a circle on your bare skin, murmuring into your ear, “Do you remember that trip to the mountains? We spent the night drinking in the pool and watching the stars.” 

Sylus closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. Slowly, his hand splays over your stomach, unsettlingly close to the spot that irked you yesterday. “I held you in my lap that night, soaking up your warmth just like this...”

His hands wrap around your thighs next as he spreads them and steps closer. Tilting your chin, he locks eyes with you, the blatant desire etched into his features stealing your breath away.

“Now tell me, do any of these touches feel simply companionable to you?” Sylus asks.

Definitely not. Not this time, anyway. But, unwilling to accept whatever is happening, you nod and do your best to lie. “They do to me,” you say, your voice much firmer than you’d expected. Maybe he’ll actually believe it.

He nods softly, inching his hands a little further up your thighs. “I thought so once, too. But—” He tilts his head, amusement playing on his features as he murmurs, “Think about it. How many friends do you know that behave as we do, sweetie?”

Fear courses through you as you whisper, “Why are you doing this?” You wish he’d stop talking and leave your house because he’s turning your entire life upside down. 

His hands leave your thighs to cradle your face. “I don’t let people get this close to me. You know me better than anyone. I constantly seek your touch, your presence. I run to you without a second thought when I'm upset. Even with Mai, I found myself aching for something as simple as karaoke with you…” You can’t breathe as his agonized gaze meets yours, and he says, “I don’t know how I missed it, dove. I’m sorry.” 

The compulsion to comfort him grows too powerful, and you draw him in for a hug, gasping in surprise when his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he rests his head against your shoulder.

As you hold him, stroking his hair and rubbing soothing circles on his back, you realize that Sylus might be right—maybe your relationship has always been more than just companionship.

Gently, you push him away a bit, forcing yourself to say the words that feel like a death sentence, “I won’t do this to Xavier. And… I just don’t feel that way about you, Sylus. I’m sorry.” The words are a whisper you can barely get out.

He grips your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as frustration flashes on his face.

Tangling his fingers in your hair, he guides your head back as his other hand tenderly cups your cheek. The kiss is nothing more than a soft press of your lips—delicate and painfully intimate. 

When you pull back to look at him, his blissful expression brings tears to your eyes. The effort it takes not to kiss him again makes your body tremble and your fists ball up tightly.

Sylus gives you a knowing, concerned look when he realizes you’ve reached your limit on how much you can handle. Kissing your forehead, he backs away to give you some space. 

He loathes himself for the tears tracing down your cheeks and for the hurt and confusion that have lingered around you since he began to express his feelings. But he needs you to know the truth. He can only pray that it doesn’t cost him everything you’ve built together.

His voice is gentle and reassuring as he promises, “No matter what happens, I'll never leave you. Remember that.” 

He reaches out to brush your cheek back before pulling away again. “Just do me one more favor. After I leave, replay every trace of my touch on your body. Close your eyes and think of how my lips feel against yours.” His voice is desperate as he finishes, “Tell me then that you truly feel nothing for me, sweetie, and I will find a way past this.” 

When the front door shuts softly behind him, the emotions you’ve been holding back rush to the surface, and panic slams into you with such force that you can’t see past it. It’s in everything you are, swirling like a storm as you choke on your breath, desperately trying and failing to get air into your lungs as your skin tingles almost painfully. 

Nausea sends you running to the bathroom as your body attempts to expel your overwhelming emotions.

You don’t need to do as Sylus asked—you can remember every touch in vivid detail without trying. And though you don’t want to admit it, you are excruciatingly aware of just how good it felt. 

Finding your way back to your safe place, you snuggle under the covers, holding Xavier’s pillow close again and taking deep breaths of his scent to quell your anxiety.

But this time, the comfort of feeling closer to him twists into overwhelming guilt. You force yourself to stay there, feeling terrified, ashamed, and emotionally spent, considering it a penance for hurting the two people you care the most for in this world.

Xavier arrives home the next day to find you curled up in the same spot, hugging his pillow with tears streaming down your face. You haven’t slept or moved at all. 

Concern washes over him at your appearance; exhausted, worn down, and sadder than he’s ever seen you. Fear clouds your features as Xavier sits beside you on the bed. Pulling away when you cry even harder at his touch, he murmurs, “What’s wrong?”

You look down, balling the comforter around you up in your fists. You can’t meet his eyes as you say, “Sy… Sylus left Mai…”

Xavier’s stomach drops. He knows what comes next. Honestly, he's been expecting this moment for some time now. Sylus may have thought his feelings for you were platonic, but when he began to miss you so much that he couldn’t stay away for more than a week, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Mai’s face flashes in Xavier's mind as terror overwhelms him. 

Sylus took Mai from Xavier. Why does he have to take you too?

“What happened?” Xavier repeats. It’s all he can seem to say. He can barely speak, barely breathe.

His sudden, cold, distant tone makes you flinch. “He… he kissed me,” you admit quietly.

He simply nods in response, casting his gaze away as he asks, “Did you enjoy it?” 

“I don’t know.” Shame hits you full force as Xavier gives a quiet, mocking scoff and hangs his head for a moment before standing. You watch helplessly as he packs a small bag, grabs his keys, and finally looks at you. You wish he hadn’t. Genuine anger and fierce hurt lurk in his features. It hurts more than anything else has. “I won’t be back. I’m not doing this. Not again.” And then, just like that, he’s gone. You hear the front door close behind him, and the rest of your world shatters apart. 

Strangled, agonized screams consume you as anger adds itself to your turmoil. The vase of forget-me-knots shatters on the floor, the blue blossoms making you unreasonably pissed. Is Xavier seriously going to leave without at least letting you explain yourself?

How can you feel so guilty yet like you’ve done nothing wrong? Why did Sylus have to tell you about his feelings? You wish he would have just kept them to himself. Most frustrating of all, you want nothing more right now than your friend’s comfort.

Sylus picks up on the first ring, and his gentle voice makes you burst into tears again.”Deep breaths, sweetie. I’m on my way.” He was already on his way out the door when he heard your ringtone. A feeling of unease had lingered in him all morning, almost as if he sensed that you weren’t okay. 

He finds you curled up on the wet floor, flowers and glass scattered all around you. Your broken gaze meets his as you whisper, “Please, Sylus… I—I can’t be here right now.” 

Setting you on the edge of the bed, he moves around the room, packing up some of your belongings. After hooking the bag over his shoulder, he wraps you in his arms, tucking your head against his chest. You watch yours and Xavier’s front door close behind you, the click of the lock feeling so final that it makes the reality of the situation sink in.

You’ll never wake up to the smell of burnt biscuits again. You’ll never again feel the most tender love you’ve ever experienced—the most precious thing in the world to you, gone in the blink of an eye. Xavier left you so easily that you can’t help but wonder if you meant that much to him after all.

Sylus purchased a house nearby shortly after breaking things off with Mai. He kept his place in the N109 Zone for business, but it no longer feels like home without you. Telling you this makes him incredibly nervous, but his worries are unfounded. When he sets you down on his sofa, you take a teary-eyed look around the room before turning to him and whispering, “When, Sy?”

He clears his throat and rakes his hand through his hair. “A few months after you left,” he admits quietly. 

You give him a gentle smile, tenderness playing on your features. “Do you think my best friend could hold me for a while? 

In moments, he has you wrapped in his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and setting you gently on the bed. 

“Sylus…” you start, as a fresh wave of anxiety flows through you at being in his room.

He smirks when he sees an adorable blush spread across your cheeks. Lifting your chin to meet his gaze, his voice is firm as he promises, “I only want to hold you.” 

Relief fills you as you nod, moving over to give him room. Sylus is ripped in two at your pained whisper, “He’s gone...” Squeezing you tighter, he kisses your hair, murmuring, “I’m sorry, dove… This was never what I wanted.”

While the way he holds you feels intimate, Sylus doesn’t attempt to cross any boundaries in the slightest. 

You curl up at his side, laying your head against his chest. The only touch he places on you is the entwining of your fingers, resting just above his heart.

Days turn into weeks as Sylus watches you retreat so far into yourself that he worries you may never return. He persuaded you to stay with him for the time being—he can’t bear the thought of leaving you alone like this. 

When you’re not working or sleeping, he often finds you staring at the wall or television with a distant look in your eyes. He often has to coerce you into eating or caring for yourself. You’ve begun to shy away from his touch, rarely even wanting a hug for comfort since that first night. Xavier haunts your mind relentlessly, and it's clear to Sylus that his absence will likely linger with you forever.

Today, however, saw some progress. Getting up to shower and get dressed sapped most of your energy, but it made you feel a bit more human. Sylus even convinced you to watch the new season of your favorite cooking show, and after a few glasses of wine, you began to open up.

When you return from getting another bottle, you sit beside him, so close that your shoulder brushes his. An amused smirk lights his features when he sees your wide eyes realize what you’ve done. You blush fiercely and adjust slightly, but you don’t move away.

Instantly, a weight lifts from Sylus’s shoulders. He was genuinely worried that you might never forgive him. But then tears form in your eyes when the TV shows a clip of a couple caught in a passionate embrace. He chose the show because it held no romance; ads weren’t something he considered.

Pulling your knees close, you curl into yourself as the pain hits you anew. Sylus kneels before you, resting his hands on your knees and murmuring, “I can’t take the pain away, but I might be able to make it a little better...” 

You search his eyes for so long he almost takes it as a no. But just as he’s about to pull away, you whisper, “Okay.” Picking you up and sitting down, he cradles you in his lap, holding you and stroking your hair as he hums one of your favorite songs.

You let him continue for a few minutes, but eventually, you pull back and, narrowing your eyes, accuse, “That is so not helping, Sylus.”

Chuckling and cupping your chin, he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Pressing down on the plump skin, he says, “There is another way…” His lips brush over your cheeks before trailing to your lips. He kisses you softly, then pulls away, gauging your reaction.

Your eyes don’t leave his lips even for a moment as you whisper, “Again.”

This kiss is deeper, but Sylus pulls back much too soon. “Better?” he asks, hoping for a yes. He can’t bear the thought of stopping.

“A little…” you mumble, your body tingling with pleasure.

He smiles softly, tilting your head to kiss along your jawline and neck. Your eyes drift closed as your body melts against him.

He nuzzles your nose before capturing your mouth again, his tongue exploring slowly and deliberately, memorizing every inch. So this is what it's like to really kiss Sylus… The one before was nothing compared to this. You draw him closer, groaning softly at the taste of him.

He’s like the most potent drug, one that promises to be hell to let go of. He wraps around you and consumes your very being, nearly devouring you whole.

You adjust and straddle his waist, pulling him flush against you as you kiss his cheeks. His eyes flutter shut, accepting the gentle press of your mouth.  When you suck on his ridiculously adorable top lip, you realize how badly you’ve wanted to do it all along. 

His crimson eyes alight with happiness, and his tender smile and joyful laugh make you wish you had been doing this all along. But when his hand travels under your shirt to cup your breast, Xavier’s face flashes in your mind like a physical blow. Jumping off Sylus’s lap with a horrified gasp, your hand clamps tightly over your mouth. 

He doesn’t look upset, only concerned, giving you a gentle, knowing smile. Suddenly, you long for a place you thought you’d never want to see again. 

“Will you take me home, please?” you ask quietly.

Sylus walks over, gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and murmurs, “I’ll grab my keys.” The fact that he genuinely doesn’t seem upset with you is the only thing that holds you together.

A comfortable silence fills the car ride to your and Xavier’s house. Sylus’s eyes hold a limitless tenderness when he drops you off and promises, “I’ll stop by to check on you tomorrow, sweetie. Call me if you need anything at all.” 

The dark space feels like a bad omen. What was once the most comforting place in the world is now filled with an unsettling melancholy that breaks your heart all over again. You leave all the lights off; you can’t bear seeing Xavier’s things that he never returned for. The rarely used recliner, nearly free of Xavier’s scent, is the only place of solace left here. You curl up with a blanket and pray that sleep brings you at least a little peace.

Xavier may have left your home, but he never truly left you. Sylus finds him at a nearby hotel, and when Xavier opens the door, Sylus barely recognizes him. Typically, Xavier carries himself tall with quiet confidence, but that’s absent now. He looks as if he hasn’t slept since last seeing you, and his wrinkled clothes and messy hair suggest he’s been taking care of himself as well as you have.

His eyes are emotionless as they meet Sylus’s, standing there, assessing him coldly, before moving to shut the door in his face. Sylus jams it with his boot and growls, “We need to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Xavier asks in a bored tone. “You’ve got what you wanted. You always do.” He turns and retreats into the room, looking like he couldn’t care less whether Sylus follows or not. 

As Xavier sits down and pours a glass of whiskey, Sylus watches him with genuine sympathy. He can only imagine what Xavier’s going through; the thought of losing you is more than unbearable. 

Xavier leans back, draping his arm over the back of the sofa and meeting Sylus’s eyes. His hardened demeanor falters as he asks, “How is she doing?” 

“She barely eats, barely speaks. It’s difficult to even get her out of bed,” Sylus answers honestly.

Xavier visibly winces and gulps down his drink. Sylus eyes him and asks, “How long has that been a problem?”

Xavier gives him a distant look, shrugging and changing the subject as he says, “I’m sure her pain is a little more bearable when you join her in that bed.”

Sylus laughs, but it holds no amusement. “She won’t let me touch her, Xavier. And she has her own room, with a bed I’ve never laid in.” Sylus shakes his head in frustration at the surprise on Xavier’s face.

“She’ll never entertain the notion of being with me if it costs her you,” Sylus says, resigned to that fact long ago. He'd meant it when he said this was never how he wanted things to go.

He’s been giving Xavier time to come to his senses, but judging by how Xavier is drinking his problems away, it seems unlikely that will happen anytime soon.

Xavier downs his drink and reaches to pour another, but Sylus intercepts the bottle and tucks it away. Xavier shoots him a sharp glare, his calm demeanor cracking, “Why the hell are you here?”

Meeting his gaze, Sylus replies,  “There’s a way for everyone to come out happy in this, you know.” 

Xavier says nothing, simply crossing his arms and sitting back, waiting for Sylus to continue. 

Sylus admits, “I told Mai once that I was open to sharing if that’s what she wanted. She harbored feelings for you, Zayne, and Rafayel, and for a long time, it caused her immense pain. She decided not to pursue that route. But you seem to think I kept her from you when that was never the case.” 

Xavier’s eyes widen in surprise and anger when he realizes what Sylus is suggesting. “Share? You’ve got to be kidding me. Get the fuck out, Sylus,” he hisses. He stands and heads for the bedroom, but Sylus grabs his arm.

“She won’t live without you. And I won’t live without her. Even if I’m destined to only share friendship with her, I won’t leave her side. So shouldn’t we at least try, for her sake, to make this work?” Sylus asks earnestly. Feeling his frustration rise, he pauses, breathing deeply to collect himself before continuing, “Cast your pride aside for one moment, Xavier, and consider the pleasure we could give her,” he murmurs. 

Xavier shakes his head in disbelief, his eyebrows knitting together as he casts his eyes away.

Sylus sighs in exasperation and steps back. “Look. I’m not attempting to anger you by suggesting this, but watch me touch her for the first time. Watch how good it makes her feel. If your cock isn’t hard within minutes from her sweet sounds, then you’re free to walk out the door.” Sylus cocks his head and smirks, throwing in a petty dig to lure Xavier in. “Let’s make a wager on whether or not you can handle it, hunter. What do you say?”

Xavier looks at him like he’s absolutely lost it. But he sighs in resignation, nodding in reluctant acceptance, mainly agreeing to prove to Sylus how wrong he is so Xavier can put this behind him for good. Reinforcing the wall around himself, he replies emotionlessly, “Whatever. But the liquor comes too.”

Sylus steps back to let Xavier enter the house first. Pain surges through him as he walks through the threshold, a place he had hoped never to see again. Despite the darkness, he can make out your form curled up on the recliner. Aching to wrap you in his arms, he forces himself to turn away from your silhouette, heading to the kitchen for a glass.

Attempting to block out his emotions, he turns to Sylus and asks, “Where is the torture taking place?”  

Sylus gives him an amused smirk, gesturing toward the bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable,” he taunts, though his look is almost understanding. 

It makes Xavier unreasonably angry. He shakes his head and turns away before he punches Sylus in the face.

Once in the bedroom, Xavier feels lost in a space that no longer feels like his. Desperate for a distraction, he makes the bed and tidies up. Seeing the flowers littering the floor is a painful reminder, filling him with guilt and regret. Eventually, he settles into the reading nook nestled in the bay window, giving him a front-row seat to the bed. 

Dread lingers, but mostly he feels numb. That’s why he keeps drinking—to keep his emotions at bay.

Sylus lays your unconscious form on the bed. Xavier's heart seizes when Sylus gently slips your shorts off, a protest forming on his lips. The only thing keeping him from tearing Sylus apart is that he leaves your lace panties in place.

Xavier downs his drink and pours another, trying to remain calm as Sylus settles against the headboard and pulls your limp form into his lap.

Sylus watches Xavier as his fingers slip under your shirt, traveling across your skin. “Consider this a practice round. You need to compose yourself before she wakes. She won't consent to this if she thinks it might hurt you.” 

Xavier’s gaze travels slowly over your body like a phantom caress, struggling to control his emotions. How could he forget how beautiful you are? He gives Sylus a cold, mocking smile. “Your time starts now, and you don’t have long… Better hurry if you plan to convince me.” 

As if there were any chance of that happening. This entire thing is a waste of time. Xavier will never be okay with another man having you. 

Sylus’s voice is a low, sultry command. “Guide my hand, Xavier… Tell me where to touch her.” 

Fear seizes him as Xavier watches you stir in Sylus’s arms. “I—I can't,” he whispers.

“Yes. You can,” Sylus says firmly. “We can start small, but you need to lead.” He meets Xavier’s eyes. “I concede to the fact that she’s ultimately chosen you. But it’s starting to piss me off that you seem to be taking that for granted. Now, man up, Xavier. Where do I touch her?”

Xavier’s eyes rake over your form again. Starting small is a solid idea. His voice is small as he says, “Hold her hand.” 

Sylus entwines his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking your skin as he waits for the next instruction.

The pain Xavier feels when you stir in your sleep, squeezing Sylus’s hand with a soft sigh, is sharp and brutal. Somehow, he manages to say, “H-her hair is falling in her face. Tuck it back.” 

Sylus is careful not to wake you as he gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

Nausea churns in Xavier’s gut, and his words come out strangled as he whispers, “Run your fingers up and down her arm.”

Holding Xavier’s gaze, Sylus complies. Xavier isn’t even aware that he says, “I… Both arms now,” out loud until he sees Sylus’s touch make slow, torturous trips along the length of the limbs. 

Xavier’s throat bobs as he states, “I think I’m ready. You can wake her up now.” Ready, in reality, for this to be over.

“Keep going,” Sylus commands.

Xavier curses under his breath, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head before sighing in resignation. Pain clouds his blue eyes, seeming to drape over his being like a heavy blanket. Somehow, he chokes out, “Kiss her cheek, then.”

Sylus lifts your chin and kisses your cheek before resting his head against yours, giving Xavier an amused smile. 

“Her lips now…” Xavier whispers on a choked breath. He needs to speed things along; he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold on. It's taking all his self-control not to rip you away from Sylus. Anger and something akin to terror buzz along Xavier’s skin, mixing with the liquor in his body to create an overwhelmingly potent effect.

Sylus hums with satisfaction as he cups your cheek, his eyes searching your sleeping face before capturing your mouth in a lingering kiss. The crimson orbs burn bright as they turn back to Xavier, waiting patiently. 

“Stroke her thighs… but—only a little,” Xavier breathes out, his tone taking on a slightly different note. Sylus can see that he’s still hesitant, but there’s also a faint trace of desire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

Sylus chuckles and shakes his head. “Maybe you are ready.” 

Xavier nearly stops him when he starts to draw you out of sleep, but he can’t find it in himself to move, much less speak.

He just watches, wide-eyed, as you open your sleepy eyes, peering up at Sylus in confusion. 

You sense Xavier’s presence immediately. Head snapping up, surprise and happiness light your features before worry washes them out. Searching Sylus's face frantically, your voice is barely a whisper as you ask, “What’s going on…?”

Suddenly, you notice your shorts are gone, and you’re dressed in nothing but one of Xavier’s shirts and your panties, tucked against Sylus’s chest with his hands splayed over your thighs. 

Sylus can see your panic swelling like a visible force. His voice is a low, velvety murmur as he promises, “Everything’s fine, dove. Your hunter and I are just conducting a little experiment, right?” He looks at Xavier and raises his brows expectantly. Xavier keeps his face as blank as possible, meeting your eyes with a clipped nod.

Sylus grips your hips and pulls you close, sitting you up a bit to give Xavier a better view, murmuring, “Let’s continue.”

Confusion swells within you, and you squirm in Sylus’s arms, trying to break free. It’s futile, though; his grip is gentle yet unyielding. Defeated, you sink back against him and demand again, “What the fuck is happening right now?”

You look into Xavier’s eyes for an answer, but he offers none. Instead, he gives you a cold stare before turning to Sylus and instructing in a low, firm voice, “Kiss her again.”

Your surprised squeak of, “Excuse me!?” is quickly swallowed by Sylus's mouth as his tongue pries yours open for a slow, thorough exploration. He momentarily loses himself in your taste and warmth, but Xavier’s murmur of "pull her hair while you do it” drags him back.

Grinning against you, Sylus tangles his fingers in your hair. He pulls tightly, drawing out a low moan from you as he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss.

Between presses of your lips and strokes of your tongues, Sylus seeks Xavier's gaze, his glowing eyes piercing into Xavier’s to ensure he doesn’t overstep. 

Sylus meant it; he has no issue with sharing you. He’s confident that, eventually, he’ll be the one who satisfies you best. He was prepared for this all along, knowing it was what you would most desire.

His only goal is to please you; everything else he can endure. However, this isn’t turning out to be the burden he was expecting. The desire blooming in the man watching from across the room is undeniably pleasant. Not to mention how arousing it is to make Xavier watch Sylus touch what Xavier considers his.

You manage to squeak, “Please let me go!” but Sylus’s hand muffles your plea as he shoots you a soft smile.

Your eyes widen when you hear Xavier chuckle quietly at the sharp look of irritation you give Sylus as you struggle in his hold before ultimately going limp, seemingly giving in to whatever this is. 

You must be dreaming. 

That’s the only logical explanation. You’re still asleep in your empty apartment, and your mind is inventing outrageous scenarios to cope. 

Because there is absolutely no way in hell that your extremely jealous lover would look this turned on while watching another man touch you. 

Fierce anger lingers in Xavier’s eyes, but something much sharper lurks beneath the surface. Sylus pulls his hand back, giving you a chance to mumble, “Is this punishment for something?” with a little pout.

Surprisingly, Xavier responds, “We all know this is far from that for you." You shoot him a sharp glare and stick out your tongue in a childish gesture. 

Sighing at the situation's absurdity, you rest against Sylus, touching his thighs. Tracing languid shapes over the fabric of his pants with your fingers, you direct all your attention toward Xavier. 

As happy as you are to see him, you’re also deeply upset with Xavier. He left you as if you were nothing to him. Of everything that’s happened, that's been the worst sting of all.

If they were forcing you to comply, perhaps you can get some satisfaction by pissing Xavier off. While the desire to do whatever it takes to make him forgive you is powerful, the need to make him hurt as badly as you’ve been hurting since he left is more potent.

Xavier rolls his eyes and leans back casually. His blue eyes burn with a dark, cocky amusement that is single-handedly the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Feeling defiant, you tip your head back and try to pull Sylus in for a kiss, only for him to stop halfway and look silently at Xavier for permission. Seriously? Is that how this is going to go? You’re not sure which is sharper—your irritation or arousal. Sure enough, Xavier confirms your thoughts, answering Sylus quietly, “Go ahead,” Xavier shrugs, looking almost bored as he sips his glass. 

Sylus searches your gaze with such tenderness that it nearly softens your irritation. His lips curve slightly before capturing yours.

Xavier watches as you go limp in Sylus’s arms, just as you have in his so many times before, while rage simmers inside him. Perhaps this is exactly what he needs—to see your raw, unfiltered desire for the man holding you in his arms. Maybe then, he’ll finally be able to let you go.

“I think you can do better than that,” he taunts Sylus after the brief kiss. 

Sylus’s eyes snap to Xaviers with genuine amusement before he adjusts you, cradling you in his lap. 

Focusing all his attention on you, Sylus cradles your cheek and gives you a smile that’s as tender as his touch. “May I?” he murmurs.

His deep voice and the longing in his eyes send electricity through your limbs. Without a second thought, your hands tangle in his silver hair as you pull him down and crush your lips to his. You lose yourself in him instantly, gripping him desperately as you suck and nibble on his lips. A quiet moan of pleasure escapes you, only to be greedily devoured by his mouth.

Suddenly, you remember Xavier is watching. Jumping nearly two feet from Sylus, your anguished features meet Xavier’s stunned ones. 

“I’m so sorry, Xavier. I didn’t mean to—” 

“Again,” Xavier commands dispassionately. 

Hurt courses through you in vicious, painful waves. Is Xavier seriously going to let this happen? Does he really not care at all if someone else claims you? Sylus sees something die a little inside, your face falling as tears swell in your eyes. 

Sylus is trying to bring you back to life, to help trade your tears of sadness for ones of ecstasy. If Xavier is determined to continue being cold to you, maybe he doesn’t deserve to take the lead.

Sylus pushes you back onto the bed, his body settling between your legs and pressing you into the comforter. He doesn’t waste a single second. Hand caressing the nape of your neck, he angles it to place gentle kisses and bites on every inch of skin he can reach.

Your taste, your scent, your softness—you’re fucking addicting. Sylus groans deeply against your mouth when your quiet sounds turn into needy little whimpers that you fail to hold back.

You push weakly at his chest and meet his gaze, longing clouding your voice even as you say, “Please, Sy. T-too much…” Worry fills you as your gaze flicks quickly back to Xavier, whose silhouette is barely visible in the room’s shadows. Not knowing how he’s feeling makes you feel sick with unease.

Sylus grabs your chin and gently pushes his thumb into your mouth, murmuring, “Suck, sweetie.” Eyes widening in surprise, you do as he asks, simply unable to resist. You watch lust take him over when you swirl your tongue around his skin and suck harder.

Turning to Xavier with a flash of genuine anger, Sylus declares, “I wasn’t lying when I said she hasn’t allowed me to touch her. You’ve buried yourself so deeply into her psyche that she calls out for you even in her sleep.” 

His smile is cold and emotionless as he continues, “You left her. And without a second thought at that. If you agreed to this so that you can treat her as if she’s done something wrong—then you can get the fuck out.” 

Shutting Xavier out completely, Sylus wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes tenderly. He nuzzles your nose and presses his lips to yours. The kiss starts slow and soft. Xavier senses your hesitancy but isn’t surprised when you give in to your desire. Body arching into Sylus, you deepen the kiss, pressing yourself as close as you can.

Sylus’s words echo in Xavier’s mind, further muddling his feelings. Knowing that you’ve remained loyal to him even when you had every opportunity and reason to forget him thaws Xavier’s heart just a little. Perhaps that’s what guides him as he moves around the room, flicking on fairy lights that shine like gentle stars in the darkness.

You watch him with narrowed eyes as he sits at a safe distance. He can see you so clearly in the gentle glow of the lights. 

Xavier realizes it's the first time he’s really looked at you since he arrived, and his heart drops at what he sees. You look like you haven’t slept since he left, even though that’s practically all you’ve done. You’ve lost weight, and the light behind your eyes that’s so dear to Xavier has disappeared completely. 

All Xavier sees now is pain, anger, and a sharp hint of betrayal. It’s fair—he knows he should have given you a chance to explain before leaving your life without looking back. But he was so scared… He couldn’t bear the thought of going through another situation like with Mai ever again. It was a boundary he had to set, no matter how much it killed him. Did he put both of you through this hell for nothing, though? It’s an agonizing thought. This plan of Sylus’s isn’t likely to end well, but at that moment, Xavier decides he can give it a chance for you.

Tears fill your eyes as Xavier’s demeanor softens, his features filling with deep regret. Setting your jaw and looking away, you try to hold onto your anger. His tender and infuriatingly beautiful gaze puts a crack in your defenses that you aren’t ready for yet. When Xavier meets Sylus’s eyes, Sylus is pleased to see they’re resolute, and that Xavier’s voice is firm yet tender as he says, “Make her feel good for me—I haven’t earned the right to touch her yet.”

In agreement, Sylus’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss. You jump in surprise when his fingers begin a languid path between your breasts. “You have no idea how much I care about you,” he says earnestly.

He pulls back, searching your eyes. You can hardly breathe as he murmurs, “I know you haven’t accepted me like this. Not yet.” You open your mouth to argue, but his thumb presses on your bottom lip, keeping you quiet. He asks, “Will you give me a chance to show you why you should?” 

Body heating painfully, you fight the urge to give him exactly what he wants. Xavier notices your eyes flicker to him at Sylus’s request as if silently seeking his permission. He can see in your eyes that if he asks you to stop, you will without hesitation. But the only way that ends is with you unhappy when you inevitably have to choose between them once again. Giving you a smile meant to convey comfort and acceptance, Xavier feels his heart thump at the light that returns to your eyes.

“I’ll be right over here,” he assures you before retreating to his spot.

Sylus almost looks worried you might reject him. A grin lights your features as you tease, “Well, what are you waiting for then? I told you I only see you as a friend, Sy… I’m going to need a lot of convincing.” You inhale his soft laughter as your tongue dances with his. 

This is the first time you’ve kissed guilt-free, the first time you’ve touched his body without your desire being overwhelmed by shame. Although Sylus’s kisses are deep and unhurried, when he pulls back, both of you are flushed and breathless. Hands cradling your head, he guides it as he pleases. 

Kisses cover your neck and shoulders, interspersed with nibbles and flicks of his tongue that make you whine quietly beneath him. Hands fisting into his shirt, you pull him closer. When you turn toward Xavier and meet his eyes, shock courses through you. His expression is a mix of desire and restraint; he looks like he wants to break Sylus’s hands as they trail your body, but there’s an unmistakable arousal simmering there, too. He gives you a faint, reassuring smile before returning his attention to Sylus’s mouth, which is trailing dangerously close to your clothed breast. 

Xavier’s breath quickens, his hands clenching tightly as his heart races impossibly fast. Sylus sits up and settles against the headboard again, his eyes sin incarnate as he tilts his head slightly, gesturing for you to come closer with a finger. His eyes light when you crawl to him with a teasing grin before settling on his lap, a startled squeak leaving you as he playfully smacks your ass. The way he bites his lip and groans at the sensation makes you absolutely feral. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist and drawing your face to his, you bite and suck on his perfect lips until they’re slick and swollen. You had no idea how badly you needed him... 

His soft, alluring sounds and the touch of his hands are so perfect they’re almost painful. But you force yourself to calm down, stopping to hug him close and slow your pounding heart. He holds you tight, his deep chuckle rumbling against you when you bury your face in his neck and groan in frustration. 

You want to devour Sylus whole, but you’d still rather not do it right before Xavier. The rumble of Sylus’s laugh vibrates through your entire being. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Have I convinced you a little too well? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flustered.”

Your bubbly, playful smile shines back at him. “I just think it’s amusing how creation made you utterly flawless yet couldn’t make it possible for you to carry a tune.” You earn a playful nip to the neck as Sylus mutters, “Watch it.” 

He frowns when he cradles your neck, trying to bring your lips back to his, and you hesitate. “I can tell you want this. So why are you still holding back?” His deep murmur against your ear stokes the flames within you.

“I just—” Your gaze flickers to Xavier before settling back on Sylus as pain threatens to wash out your desire. 

Sylus gives you a knowing look and guides you to rest between his thighs so you face Xavier instead. Xavier curses quietly as your back settles against Sylus’s chest with a guilty, nervous expression. 

Sylus studies Xavier through languid, sultry eyes as he slowly draws your hair back and nips the shell of your ear, trailing kisses down your neck. Xavier looks pained; he already knows what comes next. “Choose where we go, hunter. It seems our little dove is still worried about your precious feelings.”

Sylus wholeheartedly expects Xavier to refuse. This is the pivotal moment in this scheme, and if Xavier is going to back out, now would be the time. 

But instead, Xavier’s burning gaze pierces into you before wandering to your clothed chest. 

“Lift her shirt. I…I’ve really missed those perfect tits,” Xavier instructs, though a hint of regret lingers in his words. 

Pain and betrayal wash over you as you shoot Xavier a withering look, earning a startled one in return. “What happened to me being ‘all yours,’ Xavier? Or was that a lie, just like loving me was?” you snap. 

Xavier is completely taken aback, his voice low and strangled, “I’m doing this because I love you…” Huffing in annoyance and casting your gaze away, you hear Xavier’s voice fill the air again. “I don’t like this. But I just…” He looks at Sylus as he finishes, repeating quietly, “Lift her shirt.”

Sylus grins, knowing he has Xavier exactly where he wants him. “Should we show him, sweetie? I don’t know if he deserves it…”

Feeling incredibly pissed off and petty, you answer, “He doesn’t, but you do,” guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt.

Sylus chuckles as he lifts the fabric, and you turn your gaze to Xavier. “Isn’t this your shirt, Xai? Sucks that you have to watch another man take it off of me, huh?” You smile innocently as anger flashes in his eyes.

It's taking every ounce of Xavier’s restraint not to put a stop to this. His uneasy groan fills the room as Sylus slowly lifts the fabric, his intoxicating gaze locked on Xavier until you are fully exposed.

His gentle fingers circle your belly button before traveling up. Sylus asks Xavier, knowing you need to hear it, “May I?” Xavier’s eyes flash, and he hangs his head for a moment before nodding reluctantly. Humming in approval, Sylus's hands continue their journey. Pressing his cheek against yours, he murmurs, “Watch me, dove.” 

You whine quietly when he cups the bottom of your breasts, his thumbs making gentle sweeps over your nipples. The silky buds instantly harden under his touch, the sensation pulling a pained groan from Sylus.

Xavier, compelled by something he can’t quite understand, says, “Slap them a little for me—they’re so pretty when they bounce.” Genuine arousal seeps into his eyes as Sylus delivers gentle smacks to your breasts, both of them entranced by the way they move. Groaning softly, you reach up to drag Sylus down for a kiss.

Xavier’s strangled voice breaks in. “She likes it when I tug and pinch her nipples… And if you tease the soft spot under her ear while you do it… she’ll be weak and whiny in seconds.”

A gentle moan of “fuck,” slips from you as Sylus’s thumb and finger start teasing your nipples. His touch is firmer and much more hungry now. Xavier was right—the slow, tantalizing licks of Sylus’s tongue and the warmth of his mouth do have you whining within seconds.

Xavier wants to touch you so badly… He wants to be the one drawing out those beautiful sounds, but he can’t find it in himself to move. Somehow, he can still speak: “Spit in her mouth.” 

You groan in ecstasy as Sylus tilts your head back, and Xavier instructs, “Open wide for him, angel.” Feeling like you might spontaneously combust, you obey, and Xavier mutters heatedly, “Good girl… Now swallow.” 

Sylus is extremely proud of his self-control. It’s taking everything in him not to bend you over fuck you senseless, whether you want him to or not. To distract himself, he glances at Xavier, giving him a provoking smile while tugging on your nipple. “Angel, huh?” He kisses your ear and asks, ‘Angel or dove, sweetie? Take your pick.” 

You refuse to lie. “Angel,” you answer without hesitation, your stomach fluttering when a bit of light returns to Xavier’s eyes at the earnestness lacing your words.

Sylus’s low, unbothered chuckle brushes against your cheek as he kisses you softly. “We’ll see.”

You know what this is—a test run that decides everything. Xavier and Sylus are trying to make this work for you, and it’s the most heartwarming thing you’ve ever experienced. Your anger toward Xavier melts away as you look at him with magnetic eyes and ask, “What do you want to see him do to me next, Xai?” 

Sylus gazes down at his palms, which glide over the curves of your hips and stomach, waiting for Xavier’s answer. Fingers gripping your soft flesh, he pulls you closer with a soft, “Come here…” When his erection presses against your ass, you burst into a fit of giggles, earning a surprised look from both men. 

Sylus narrows his eyes and flicks your cheek. “What exactly is so funny, sweetie? And be very careful with your answer.”

You squirm, grinding against him and giggling again. “It’s just that… It’s your dick, Sylus! I can’t wrap my head around it.” Your giggles turn into full-blown laughter, but you fall silent when Sylus slaps his hand over your mouth and grabs your hip, moving you against him. He frees you and moves to your breast when your head falls back with a sigh of pleasure. 

Looking down at you, he mumbles, “Are you finished?” Your eyes roll back as he makes a pointed thrust against your ass. You can feel him so well through the thin fabric of your panties. “So big, Sy,” you murmur dreamily. “Much better,” Sylus’s voice is a low, decadent growl as he continues his movements against you.

You lift your head off Sylus’s chest and peek at Xavier through eyes filled with need. You reach out for him, and he hesitates, desire and nervousness flickering on his features. “Please?” you whisper, searching his face.

Both of you move simultaneously, his long legs covering the distance to reach you in an instant. Jumping into his arms before he can climb into bed, you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging on as he sits on the edge. Tears flow down your cheeks as he hugs you back. Pulling away, you punch him hard in the arm, earning a surprised gasp and a pout as he massages the tender spot. 

“You owe me breakfast for the rest of our lives, Xavier. And if you try to leave me again, I’ll tie you up and make you stay.”

Narrowing your eyes, Xavier smiles teasingly. “Is that meant to be a punishment?” His innocent voice makes you want to kiss and punch him again.

“Don’t be cute. You aren’t out of the water yet,” you mutter.

“But won’t being cute help get me rescued?” he asks with a questioning tilt of his head. 

You playfully roll your eyes, heart soaring at being teased by him again.

Sylus stands and approaches you, cradling the back of your head and kissing you deeply before murmuring against your lips, “I’ll be back in a minute, dove.” You watch him leave, your heart swelling with gratitude for the privacy. Turning back to Xavier, you find his cheeks and ears bright red. He wasn’t ready for Sylus to kiss you in such proximity yet. He’s so adorably flustered you can’t help but kiss him, too. Hands resting on your back, he presses you against him as his tongue pries your mouth open. The kiss is hungry and hurried, as is your touch on his body. Every move is to savor him so his essence can quench your weary soul. 

After a few minutes, though, Xavier reluctantly pulls back. Cupping your cheek, voice full of longing, he says, “We’ll have time alone later.”

Xavier needs to know the truth in your heart before proceeding. Brushing his hair back, you kiss him tenderly, basking in the happy lift of his face. “You know we don't have to do this, right?” 

He casts his eyes away, sadness filling them again as he murmurs, “But I can see how much you want him—”

You silence him with a finger to his lips, locking on to his gaze with a fierce, earnest expression as you promise, “There’s nothing in this world I want more than you, Xavier. And that will never change.” Nuzzling his nose, you rest your forehead against his. “I was going to tell you that, but you never gave me the chance,” you whisper painfully.

Tears swim in his eyes as he holds you tighter and asks, “You mean it?” 

You smile gently and nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. Pain and guilt play on Xavier’s face as he whispers, “I’m so sorry… I just panicked…” Wiping away a tear and tracing his cheek, you softly assure him, “It’s okay. I’ll hold a grudge for a little longer, but I understand.”

His head rests on your shoulder as he gives a quiet, relieved laugh, kissing your skin tenderly. 

Feeling like a weight lifted from your reunion, you start to get up, telling Xavier, “I think I’ll ask Sylus to go home for the night. We can all talk tomorrow.” The thought alone makes you feel ill. But Xavier grips your hips tightly, looking conflicted as he holds you in place. Unable to meet your eyes, his quiet voice skitters across your skin. “No. It’s okay. We can continue,” he says quietly. 

Concern fills you as you tilt your head in confusion and assure him, “I never want you to do something you don’t want to, Xai.” Still avoiding your eyes, his cheeks heating, he mumbles, “I don’t necessarily not want to...” Xavier groans as your face lights up with glee, poking him in the side, teasing, “I see, I see…” He pins your hands down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. 

The urge to tease him lingers. Slowly licking the shell of his ear, you murmur, “So, does only my pleasure turn you on, or does Sylus as well?” Knowing Xavier has been attracted to men before and considering Sylus’s allure, it’s a fair question.

Your touch is gentle as you brush your fingers through his hair, and your warm, accepting smile makes it easy for Xavier to open up.

His eyes grow heated as they find your lips, casually shrugging before kissing you so intensely it steals your breath away.

Arousal sweeps through you as you murmur, “My naughty boy… you are so perfect, you know that?” 

“No... But I might start believing it if you say it some more,” he replies with a heartbreakingly radiant smile.

Your fingers begin traveling under his shirt, reveling in his warmth and the softness of his skin. Moving slowly, you deliberately commit every inch to memory this time, just in case you ever lose him again. Memories don’t do Xavier justice, though. He allows you to slip his shirt off before his hand squeezes your breast, taking it into his mouth. Holding your gaze, his tongue and lips turn the bud red and sensitive before moving to the next. Xavier expertly blends purity and filthiness into an art, using his puppy-dog eyes and faux innocence to mold you into putty in his hands. Sucking on your breasts with a look that says, “You know you like it,” when he notices your wince of pain at the sensitivity.

Releasing your nipple from his mouth, he captures your lips instead. When he finally lets you up for air, you plead, “Promise you’ll tell me if you get uncomfortable? I don’t want to hurt you...” With a mischievous grin, he replies, “I don’t think I’ll be the one getting hurt tonight, angel.”

Sylus’s deep laughter fills the air as he strides confidently, leaning in to kiss you without hesitation. The possessiveness of the gesture pisses Xavier off, but he clenches his jaw and says nothing, instead taking in your blissed-out smile when Sylus pulls away. 

You have no idea how irresistible you are, especially like this—your skin flushed, eyes bright, wanting nothing more than to give and receive pleasure. Xavier still fucking hates this. He detests that you need something more than what he can provide. Every time Sylus touches you, he wants to run him through with his lightblade. 

But he can’t deny that your uninhibited ecstasy is stoking more than just his jealousy. When this started, he wanted to run as far away as possible. The tender way you regard Sylus and the fierce admiration in your eyes bring a potent pain that Xavier is sure he can never move past. But things began to shift when he instructed Sylus to touch and please you. It’s confusing to feel so helpless yet in control of a situation.

Xavier suspects that Sylus let him take the lead because he knew Xavier needed it, which softened Xavier toward him just a bit. Sylus treats you respectfully and cares for you nearly as much as Xavier, making this easier to bear. Not to mention it's turning out to be an excellent test of his composure. He takes pride in his restraint, and pushing himself to his limit has become strangely enjoyable.

Xavier guides your back to arch, making your pretty tits point toward Sylus. With languid eyes, he gives Sylus silent permission. Lips curling into a soft, pleased small, Sylus leans down to flick his tongue over your nipple, giving it a teasing nip before pulling it into his mouth. 

Sylus’s hand replaces Xaviers on your back as Xavier’s hands squeeze your breasts while Sylus’s mouth worships them both. Xavier’s heart flutters when he replaces Sylus’s mouth with his own, and your quiet sounds of pleasure turn into needy little whimpers as you grind against him.

Xavier glances at Sylus and murmurs, “I think I stole your turn.” Tilting your sultry gaze towards him, he asks, “Do you want her back?”

Sylus’s pupils dilate, the surrounding crimson burning brighter as a pleased groan escapes him. Lifting you off Xavier’s lap, he wraps your legs around his waist instead.

Your lips find his immediately, and your touch becomes greedy, with nothing left to hold you back. Hands gliding over his body, you memorize how every muscle feels beneath your fingers. When you run out of bare skin to caress, you slip his shirt off without hesitation and toss it carelessly aside. The sight of his sculpted chest elicits a deep blush from you, and an amused grin from him.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he teases. Your eyes, filled with desire, meet his as you mumble, “Yeah, but it’s different now...” 

Wonder tinges his voice as he places your hand over his heart, whispering, “Yeah.” 

Xavier sits on the bed with his legs spread, motioning to the spot in front of him at the edge. “Sit her here,” he says softly. Sylus obeys, and Xavier moves closer, pressing you against his back. His hand rests on your stomach, fingers tracing the edge of your panties. 

His voice is gentle as he looks at Sylus and says, “Take them off for me.” Sylus’s fingers replace Xavier’s as they hook under the lace and gently slip the fabric down your legs. 

Sylus’s eyes trail down your body, but Xavier closes your legs tight, his lips curving slightly. The possessiveness of the gesture sends heat flooding your body and anger flaring inside Sylus before arousal quickly takes its place. Sylus, who usually asserts dominance in the bedroom, isn’t opposed to reversed roles, even enjoying them. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flitting over Xavier’s form with an amused, almost impressed smile. Xavier’s eyes hold a silent challenge as he softly instructs, “Stand in front of her.” Sylus is more than happy to comply.

He runs his hands along your legs, smiling at you before asking Xavier, “So what do I have to do to earn a look?” 

Seeing the lust in Sylus’s eyes makes your body shudder with pleasure. If someone had asked you to envision this scenario, it wouldn’t have been like this….

Sylus exudes dominant energy, a stark contrast to Xavier’s quiet dominance. Their roles reversed from what you would have expected.

Brushing your hair back, Sylus tilts your chin, locking eyes with you. “Where do you want him to kiss you first, angel?” You whimper at Xavier's words, gazing at Sylus as you respond, “My lips.” 

Sylus leans in, teasing, “We’ve been here, sweetie. Why not try something new?” Despite his words, he gives you a tender kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue. Xavier grips your thighs tightly, his body tensing as he watches Sylus bite and tug on your lips. But when you sigh blissfully, and your hands tangle in Sylus’s hair, pulling him closer, the heat of desire overtakes a piece of the lingering anger.

When Sylus pulls back, your bright, glassy eyes flick toward your breasts in a silent request. Sylus’s eyes follow suit as he pinches your nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers. Xavier cups your breasts in a playful jiggle before offering them for Sylus to suck.

Xavier’s hand slides slowly down your body, seeking the warmth between your thighs. Cursing softly upon feeling your slick, satiny skin, his voice is strained as he says, “Baby… You’re so wet for us." Holding his sticky fingers up, Sylus intercepts them, sucking them clean while locking eyes with him, suggesting, “I think I’ve earned a taste, don’t you?” 

Xavier blushes, glancing away as he adjusts behind you. Sylus's tone is innocent, “Oh no, did I overstep?” Instead of answering, Xavier kisses your cheek and slowly opens your legs, exposing you to Sylus’s gaze. Surprised, Sylus drops to one knee, squeezing your inner thighs apart for a better view.

He's eager to explore further, yearning to feel your warmth wrapped around his tongue. “What a pretty pussy, dove,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your thigh before looking up at Xavier for guidance. “Do you want to make her cum? She’ll taste even better,” Xavier suggests quietly. The suggestion elicits a needy groan as you wiggle down to get closer to Sylus’s face. “Please, Sylus,” you beg, desperation lacing your voice. 

Sylus’s eyes darken as he locks onto you with a soft growl of approval. Xavier pulls your legs to either side of your head, holding your folds open for Sylus. Sylus delicately brushes over your soft skin, his throat working quickly as he admires the warmth and wetness. “One or two, sweetie?” he asks. Blushing, you whisper, “Two.” 

Holding your gaze, Sylus slides his fingers inside you, delicately exploring your velvety walls. Your pussy tightens around him, eliciting a nearly desperate sound from Sylus as his composure falters. Unable to contain himself any longer, he teases your sensitive skin with warm breath before licking a flat stripe across you, replacing his fingers with his tongue.

Your body clasps onto him tightly, making his cock throb almost achingly in his pants at the thought of taking his mouth's place. His touch carefully maps out every spot that makes his little birdie sing. Initially tender and unhurried, soon his tongue is moving within you as his lips and teeth embrace you wholly.

Xavier’s fingers instinctively tangle in Sylus’s hair, holding on tightly. Realization dawns on him, his eyes widening as his hand hesitates on Sylus’s head, embarrassment washing over him. Just as he considers pulling back, Sylus glances at him through glassy eyes before they drift closed again in acceptance.

The sigh of Xavier pressing Sylus’s face against you, his nose brushing your clit just right, is almost overwhelming. Your release surges and engulfs you completely in seconds, leaving you trembling in Xavier’s embrace, tears brimming in your eyes. “Holy shit,” you whine, pulling Xavier down for a kiss. “Can he be inside me, Xai? Please?” you plead.

Kisses trail down your neck while his fingers explore your folds, playing in your essence with a pleased hum. “You can have anything you want, angel. You’re being so good for us,” he murmurs. 

Sylus bites his lip, a small sound escaping him as he quickly frees his cock. A needy moan slips out at the sight, his impressive length promising the most perfect kind of destruction. Positioning yourself between Xavier’s legs, lying on your stomach, you kick your feet in giddy anticipation of tasting him. 

Your heart races when Sylus wraps his large hand around himself, stroking slowly as he approaches you with a teasing smile. “Someone’s excited,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek with affectionate eyes. 

You playfully respond, “I want to see if I can take it all in my mouth.” But upon taking him in your mouth, the playful mood evaporates. He's warm and velvety soft, the prominent vein driving you absolutely wild, urging your tongue to flick out for a taste. A single taste evolves into greedy licks and kisses as you savor his essence.

Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you gaze up at him dreamily and whisper, “Does it feel good, Sy? Really wanna make you feel good…” You already know—he’s gripping your hair tightly, holding back from taking control, releasing intoxicating sounds that make you dizzy. But you still cherish hearing him say, “It’s fucking perfect, sweetie,” before succumbing to ecstasy with each flick of your tongue.

Xavier's fingers fill you, establishing a slow, steady rhythm. Moaning around Sylus, you arch your back to grind against Xavier’s hand. His approving hum accompanies him grabbing your ass with a gentle shake, lust gleaming in his eyes as he witnesses you taking Sylus’s cock.

Sylus eases his hold and affectionately strokes your hair, his head falling back with a quiet curse as you take him halfway. You whimper around him, your lips cracking slightly as you struggle to accommodate his girth.

He caresses your cheek and says softly, “Don’t force it, dove. Not many people can take me all the way.” 

You narrow your eyes and pop him out of your mouth. “I know you did not just say that.” 

His low chuckle fills the air. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sweetie. It’s simply a fact.” 

Determined, you spit on his cock and coat it messily around, gritting out, “Just watch me, asshole,” earning an amused snort from Xavier. This time, it’s easier to slide him in halfway. You plan to keep him there for a moment to prepare yourself, but Xavier gently pushes you down until your nose presses against Sylus. Tears fill your eyes as you choke around him, cupping his swollen balls with a little whimper. Sylus gives Xavier an amused look, to which Xavier shrugs innocently, his lips curling slightly as he kisses your pussy before sliding his tongue inside. 

Sylus’s fucks your throat slow and deep as his fingers massage your head soothingly. “Can you take it for me?” Excitement fills you, and you nod around him eagerly, pushing his cock further as you grind against Xavier’s mouth. Sylus groans, his hand fisting in your hair again as he murmurs, “Tap me if I hurt you, sweetie.” He pulls out, coating your lips in his essence before snapping his hips and pushing all the way in. He repeats this several times, his brows knitting together as his movements turn hungry. 

He reaches beneath you to grab your swinging breast, his burning gaze locking onto Xavier’s face pressing against you. Sylus’s thrusts are sharp and quick, aiming to bring more pretty tears to your eyes and ruin your perfect face. His body stills, though, when you tap his thigh frantically. He pulls out quickly, concern swelling until you look at him through glassy eyes and plead, “Wanna finish with you inside me…” 

You spin around in Xavier’s lap and lean back against him again. He catches your lips in a tender, searching kiss before nuzzling your neck. “Hold my legs back again? I—I really liked that..” “Of course,” he murmurs, gently cupping under your knees and pulling them to your head. 

Xavier admires your body, taking in the sight of your tight, dripping hole and your clit pulsing every so often with need.  Your thighs are spread wide open, his fingers trailing down to rub your sensitive bud. “You know what you look like right now, angel?” he asks, spanking your clit lightly, desire and praise lacing his tone as he finishes, “Our perfect little fuck toy...” You’ve really missed him calling you that. 

Sylus leans over you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as he guides his cock through your sticky folds. As his precum mixes with your essence, you become even wetter, the combined warmth creating an intoxicating sensation. He lines himself up and reaches for Xavier’s hand, wrapping it around his length. “I need help fitting inside here, too.” 

Xavier blushes fiercely, his eyes meeting Sylus’s. “Can I just—just for a minute…” he asks hesitantly. Sylus nods, his thumb brushing over your nipple. His eyes roll back as Xavier’s firm grip begins stroking his cock perfectly, tempting him to want more than just a minute. But Xavier clears his throat, gathering himself before asking, “I… Okay… are you ready?”

Sylus’s erection is painfully hard as Xavier aligns it with your entrance. With gentle fingers, Xavier slowly guides Sylus inside you, pausing whenever you squirm or whimper in pain. Just like with your mouth, Sylus gets halfway in before your body resists accepting the rest of him. Wrapping you in his arms, Xavier's hand rubs your clit while the other provides Sylus comfort until you can take it all.

A hoarse, strangled sound escapes Sylus as his hips pump slightly into Xavier's hand, pressing him a little deeper into you. Xavier kisses your cheek, his voice sinful, “You were made to be fucked, weren’t you? Look how well you’re taking him, baby… Drenching his cock and sucking him in deep. I bet you feel so good…”

Sylus’s hands slip under your thighs, needing something to hold on to as he endures the pressure of you squeezing him. “She’s so fucking tight. So…so warm,” Sylus murmurs. He moans softly, biting your leg as Xavier pushes his cock a little deeper. “Almost there, dove,” Sylus promises, nearly bottomed out. He gives a hoarse shout as Xavier grabs his ass and pushes the rest of his length into you. 

Xavier glances at the base of Sylus’s cock, slick and stretching you open before his eyes drift to your tits, squished together between your thighs. He continues teasing your clit with one hand, roughly flicking and tugging your nipple with the other. “You can be rough if you want. That’s how she likes it,” Xavier assures Sylus. He places your hands on his legs and murmurs, “Only touch me right now,” his voice laced with a silent plea. Your teary eyes brim with love as you whisper, “I promise.” He leans back a bit, allowing you and Sylus more room. 

Sylus presses your legs all the way back, settling his weight over you, digging his cock a little deeper. You squeeze Xavier’s legs tightly when Sylus’s thrusts turn unforgiving as he ruts into you. Capturing your mouth in a kiss, his breath ghosts over your lips as he asks, “Rough enough, sweetie?” Honestly, yes, but you still want him to fuck your harder. “Nope, not enough,” you choke out amid the force of his thrusts.

Sylus chuckles softly, pulling back and fucking into you so hard you can barely breathe. “Just like that…” you whisper. 

Sylus eyes lock onto where you join, his cock stretching you so wide he can’t believe your body is allowing it. It’s incredibly challenging not to draw Sylus close. You cling to Xavier, trying to maintain self-control. Xavier’s soft voice fills your ear, “Is he making you feel good, angel?” 

You whimper, nodding frantically, your tits bouncing wildly with the force of Sylus’s thrusts. Xavier kisses your cheek and whispers, “Do you want to show him how good you feel when you cum?” You groan, your pussy squeezing so tight it pulls a hoarse shout from Sylus. Xavier spanks your clit, then rubs in time with Sylus’s hips. 

“Go ahead, baby,” Xavier says, giving your cheek a little nuzzle. Xavier guides Sylus by the chin, bringing his lips to yours. Sylus responds immediately, consuming you like a man starved. 

You look into his eyes as you bite his lip with a teasing smile, seemingly driving him feral. Pressing you deeper into the sheets, his sweaty face rests on Xavier’s shoulder as his cock relentlessly hits your sweet spot, trying his best to hold back until you find your release. 

“You feel better than I ever could have imagined, dove,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with ecstasy and desire. “So do you…” you whimper, yearning to hold him tightly as you fall over the edge. 

Sylus nearly cries in relief when he feels you clench tightly around him, a cry of his name on your lips as your pussy throbs wildly. His hips slow slightly as he asks Xavier, “C-can I finish inside?” 

Xavier’s body tenses, his hand leaving your clit as pain fills his features. He isn’t ready for you to be claimed that way. He’s unsure if he ever will be. His voice is quiet, and his arms tighten around you as he whispers, “Please. I can’t—” 

Sylus gives him an understanding nod and grunts softly, continuing fucking into you mercilessly. “Guess I’ll have to paint this pretty body white, then.” He pulls out, fisting his cock roughly as thick ropes of cum warm your stomach and cunt. 

His groan is painfully delicious as he continues to work out his essence. Releasing your legs, he squeezes your cheeks in his hand, kissing you deeply. Having your lips on his as his cock spasms in ecstasy is the best thing he’s felt in a long time. Sylus can’t help but smile when he sees your blissed-out expression and barely-open eyes. 

The way Xavier cleans you up with a warm rag is so tender that it’s a shock to your system when he finishes and roughly pushes you onto your stomach, lifting your ass in the air with a sharp slap. You whimper softly when three of his fingers fuck into you forcefully. Sqeezing and shaking your ass, he watches where he enters you, desire and possessiveness in his every touch. 

His nails dig into your skin a little, pulling a sharp gasp from you as your walls tighten and tremble around him. You didn’t realize how badly you missed the way Xavier fucks you—how he can be so tender and delicate, only to turn around and shower you with filthy words and perfect pain. As usual, your body yields to his will instantly, relaxing with a sigh of relief as you allow him to use you as an outlet for his frustrations. 

A pleased hum leaves him when he feels your body go pliant in his hands, shaking your ass again and watching it bounce for a moment as his eyes darken. His voice is deceptively gentle as he asks, “So, baby, was he worth the punishment you’ll get for letting him fuck what’s mine?”

He grips your hair and turns your teary gaze toward Sylus, who you give a blissful smile before Xavier turns you away. Sylus hesitates nearby, his body tense as he watches Xavier manhandle you like you’re nothing but a doll. Xavier cocks his head slightly and assesses Sylus with a bored, amused look, gesturing toward the bed with a nod. 

“You should sit. You need to make sure you can handle this,” he says in a low, calm tone that contradicts the way he fucks his fingers into you mercilessly. He pulls a sharp cry from you as you clutch helplessly at the bedsheets to fight the sting. Biting and sucking at your skin roughly, he leaves bruises and teeth marks littering your ass and thighs. 

Sylus’s low growl fills the air as Xavier presses a finger onto your spot so hard that your vision swims and you squirm beneath him, whining, “It hurts, Xavier… please—” Sylus steps forward to intervene, but Xavier shoots him a warning look before asking you, “Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No! Please, Xavier! please don’t stop…” you beg, ecstasy and longing evident in your very being. Xavier gives Sylus a cocky smirk as if to say, “See?” 

Xavier waits for Sylus’s decision as he kisses your skin tenderly, murmuring, “Don’t forget your safe word, angel.” Nodding in response, you're unable to speak as your release builds and crashes, its intensity shattering you completely. 

“That’s my girl,” Xavier praises gently as he pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean before driving his cock into you with a pointed thrust. Your tears flow harder when his hips start to move, overwhelmed by the sensation of feeling so whole again. 

You wish so badly that you could touch him, but the way he’s pressing your cheek into the sheets as he takes you doesn’t really allow it.

Pussy clenching impossibly tight around him, your words are an incoherent stream filling the air, “Missed you—Missed you filling me up so much… so perfect…” Xavier sees stars as your words wash over him, your body reacting eagerly to his touch as you sync your movements with his. 

Sylus isn’t sure how to feel as he sits in front of you. He can’t seem to shake his unease at you being treated this way. While Sylus is all for rough sex, Xavier is on another level entirely. Sylus can almost see the bruises forming on your skin under Xavier’s unforgiving touch. 

“You okay, sweetie?” Sylus asks softly, smiling as you bury your face against his leg with a shaky “mhmm. Feels soo good…” 

Xavier chuckles, his fingers digging into your ass as his hips piston inside you, drawing out another intense release as you cum around him. “Such a good girl,” he praises. Reaching around to stroke Sylus’s cock, Xavier grips your hair to meet your eyes. His soft, commanding tone makes you shiver.

“Make him cum for me, baby. I want to see him fall apart inside that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, guiding your head toward Sylus’s length. He can’t help but watch Sylus as you wrap your warm mouth around him—his crimson eyes fluttering shut, lips parted on a silent sound as Xavier pulls your hair tighter, bobbing you up and down.

Xavier takes Sylus’s chin in one hand while pushing your head down with the other, burying Sylus deep as you choke and drool around him. He meets Sylus’s gaze, his voice soft and strangely calm. “Does she feel good?” To his surprise, he genuinely wants to know the answer. 

How is he opening up to Sylus so quickly? Xavier has never held anything but hatred for the man, yet it’s surprising how rapidly that seems to be changing. Sylus’s beauty has always pissed Xavier off, seeing it as nothing more than a tool he used to win Mai—and now you—over. But now, he finds it difficult to draw his eyes from Sylus’s face and enjoys touching him perhaps a little too much. He has to admit this newfound attraction is making things a lot easier. 

Sylus lets himself go pliant in Xavier’s hand as he presses on his bottom lip. Xavier’s eyes catch there briefly before returning to Sylus’s gaze. “Well?” Xavier asks with a smirk—the answer is evident on Sylus’s face and in the way his body trembles with the effort of holding himself back. But Xavier wants to hear him say it. He grips Sylus’s chin tighter, eliciting a groan and a strangled “She feels fucking incredible…”

“Good boy,” Xavier says softly, patting Sylus’s cheek before pulling back. Sylus’s eyes widen momentarily before his lips curve into a wicked grin, and he murmurs, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, hunter?” Xavier shrugs in reply, slapping your ass before gripping your waist and fucking you harder. He keeps bobbing you on Sylus’s cock while his gaze locks on the way your pussy eagerly sucks him in.

It’s almost too much—the taste of Sylus, their warmth filling you, and the insanely hot dynamic developing between the two of them. Your release builds and builds, savoring the delicious feeling of dangling over the edge as Xavier kisses your back, moving fast and deep inside you. 

“I can feel it… getting so fucking tight. Come on—cum for me, angel,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. Your very life is knocked out of you as your muffled cry rings out, and you spill all over Xavier. He murmurs in awe and giddy excitement, “Shit, baby… so mmuch! Look at you…”

His cock plays around messily for a while, slapping against your wet folds, squelching sounds filling the air as if he’s trying to be as noisy as possible.

He’s effectively working up both you and Sylus, whose eyes linger on Xavier before drifting to you and the way his cock stretches your pretty mouth out. 

You look so damn beautiful when you’re choking around him. This may be the most stunning you’ve ever been, giving in to your raw desires in a desperate search for pleasure. 

This has to end as planned because he isn’t sure he’ll actually be able to give you up. And how can he possibly return to being just friends now? Any part of him that remained hesitant to accept his love for you is long gone. He’s fallen for you completely, and there’s no return from it. 

Sylus doesn’t look away from you, ecstasy clouding his features. “P-pull her off me now if you don’t want—” Sylus’s body begins to tremble. He’s trying to respect Xavier’s boundaries about finishing inside you, but Xavier is making it really fucking hard. Sylus’s voice is a low, warning growl, “Xavier—” but Xavier cuts him off. 

Almost hesitant, Xavier murmurs, “I don’t mind if you finish in here.” You whimper at Xavier’s words, feeling Sylus’s cock throb in response. Xavier’s hips pause as he guides your head up and down. You squeeze your throat tightly around Sylus, excitement swirling at the thought of truly tasting him. 

Xavier leans over you, kissing your shoulder and murmuring, “You’re doing so well, baby. Just a little bit longer for us…” Sylus muscles tense and quiver, his head smacking against the headboard as his breath leaves him on a sharp exhale. His hand takes Xavier’s place on your head, moving you just the way he wants as he pushes deep, filling your throat with his warmth. 

Xavier grips your ass, his hips continuing their punishing pace. “Our good girl better take it all,” he commands. Needy moans wrap around Sylus as you eagerly swallow every drop he gives you. He pulls your hair gently and lifts you off his cock, his eyes flashing with desire when he sees your abused lips and blissful expression. He traces this thumb over your bottom lip before kissing you. 

“Never in my wildest dreams would I have pictured you to be so perfectly filthy, sweetie,” he teases. “Happy to impress…” you mumble with a smile, squeaking as Xavier suddenly flips you onto your back before thrusting into you again. His hands brush your hair back before cradling your face, his forehead resting against yours.

You grip his arms desperately, trying to prove he’s really here with you. His absence left such a large wound that it’s proving difficult to heal, like a thirst that can’t be quenched. 

“I missed you so much…” His voice is small and filled with regret as he continues, “I’m so sorry. I never should have left you. I was just… I was sure you were going to leave me...” It’s clear from his frantic, needy movements and the strength of his hold on you that he’s also trying to heal from the loss of your presence. 

His deep kiss is a balm to your soul, pulling soft, pretty sounds from the deepest parts of you. The ability to speak has eluded you completely, and though you want to reassure Xavier that everything is okay, all you can do is deepen the kiss and convey it through your touch. 

Sylus still rests back on the bed, his arm propped behind his head as he watches you closely. Tears flow silently down your cheeks, yet more joy shines on your face than Sylus has seen in weeks. Xavier is no different; he’s no longer the broken man Sylus walked into this house with. Earlier, his eyes were nearly emotionless, and what little emotion did bleed through was chilling and furious. 

Now, Xavier is nothing but emotions—regret, love, pain, and an intense, raw desire that’s incredibly attractive. Xavier’s voice is a desperate plea, “Can I cum inside, angel? Need… Need to make you mine again. Please?” The words are almost nonexistent as they force themselves past the blinding pleasure consuming you. “I never stopped being yours, Xavier.” 

Kisses cover your cheek and neck before Xavier buries his face against your skin, thrusting harder and harder, his labored breath panting softly against you. The most adorable, strangled sound leaves him as he rides out his orgasm with tiny, sharp thrusts before he buries himself deep, his heat melting every bit of you. 

Murmuring his name, your body convulses with a gasp of pleasure, your warmth flooding his cock again. “T-twice, angel? … You are so fucking perfect,” he groans softly as he pulls you down onto the bed. Motioning for Sylus to lay next to you, Xavier rolls you to face him as they sandwich you between them. Both rest on their elbows—Sylus’s gaze tracing your form while Xavier’s lingers on Sylus’s face. 

The desire in Sylus’s eyes is strangely arousing, a force he can’t seem to fight. Xavier’s finger brushes your bottom lip before it slides into your mouth for you to enjoy. Sylus’s lips part, and he seems to stop breathing entirely as he watches you suck Xavier’s finger like it’s his cock. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” Xavier murmurs. He slips his finger out of your mouth, gently guiding Sylus to take his place. 

Lust clouds Sylus’s features as Xavier guides him in and out of your lips with a featherlight touch. Hooking your leg over Sylus’s hip, Xavier’s fingers brush Sylus’s shaft before slipping him inside you. Xavier carefully pays attention to Sylus’s reaction to his touches, not wanting to overstep. Gripping Sylus's hip, he guides his movements.

Sylus lets out a pleased groan, his eyes falling shut as he sinks into the blankets, resting his forehead against yours. He stays there a while, kissing your lips every so often as he savors the sensation of you being wrapped around him with Xavier's firm touch.

A strong sense of relief settles in Sylus when he sees Xavier kiss your cheek, his eyes filled with love as he focuses on every expression of ecstasy that crosses your face. Each sweet sound you make brings a small, proud smile to Xavier’s lips. This is working. Not only can Sylus see the acceptance in Xavier, but he can also feel it. You’ve all begun to move seamlessly, anticipating each other's needs effortlessly. 

Sylus slips out of you, keeping your leg hooked over his as he firmly grasps Xavier’s cock, earning a breathless curse in response. Sylus smirks, his honeyed voice brushing against Xavier’s skin. “What’s wrong, hunter? I thought you liked it rough…” 

He circles the tip of Xavier’s length around your entrance, earning pitiful sounds from both of you. As Sylus presses Xavier inside you, your pussy eagerly sucks him in. Xavier pulls your hair gently, arching your back so that Sylus can easily suck on your breasts.

Xavier’s touch grows tender as he reaches around to brush your clit. Long past overstimulated, the delicate touch is a shock to your system. Sylus captures your mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue twirling around yours as you cum. His hand travels over your body again, fingers pinching your nipple lightly before squeezing your breast with a soft groan and a kiss to your cheek. You think you give him a smile but you can’t be sure. 

They take turns slipping in and out of your warm pussy while their lips and teeth tease your skin. Xavier’s breath ghosts over your ear as he murmurs, “My perfect girl…” He catches Sylus’s heavy-lidded gaze, searching his face for a moment before correcting himself. “Our perfect girl,” Xavier says before blushing and glancing away. He’s pretty sure he’s gone insane, yet he’s strangely okay with it.

“I won’t last much longer,” he tells Sylus. Crimson eyes burn languidly as Xavier tilts his head slightly, eyeing Sylus’s lonely cock. “Want me to help?” he asks, kissing your cheek. Sylus doesn’t answer; just props onto his elbow and guides Xavier’s hand to his length, urging him to take it in a firm grip.

Xavier presses his face against your hair, grinding deep inside you, as Sylus gently grabs your throat, his mouth languidly searching yours. Soft sounds of pleasure fill the room as you move together, a pretty tangle of sweaty limbs and ecstasy. 

Sylus comes first with a huff of air caressing your face as he holds you close. Xavier works every drop of Sylus’s warmth out as he feels his orgasm inching closer, covering your stomach and the sheets in the stickiness as he fucks you harder. Xavier falls the moment he feels your body grip him tightly, grinding against him with tiny movements, fervently riding your pleasure. 

Wrapping you in his arms, he moves deep with slow, loving strokes as his cum spills inside you, its presence healing your heart a little more. Xavier nuzzles your neck, kissing your skin softly. “You’re a mess, baby…” he murmurs, giving you a teasing smile. Pouting, you pretend to be irritated. “And whose fault is that?” 

You huff and turn away, prompting Xavier to tickle your side in retaliation. Sylus’s fingers brush your cheek as he gives you a tender, amused look. “Are you going to try and tell us that you didn’t enjoy yourself, sweetie?” 

Cheeks heating, you try to hide your face as you mumble, “There’s really no hiding that.” Sylus chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear and smirking at Xavier. “I suppose not. Our little birdie sings so loud... You may be better at holding a tune than me,” he teases. 

You snort, cracking an eye open in amusement, “There’s no “may be” about it.” Xavier gives something between a laugh and a groan as he slips out of you. “Neither of you can sing,” he offers, trying to hide his smile. The scoff of disbelief you both give him is comical, as is Sylus’s low warning— “Watch it. Or you might not find me so gentle next time.” 

Xavier smirks, helping you from the bed and toward the shower, tossing a casual “Promise?” over his shoulder on the way out. Part of Sylus wants to follow, pushing Xavier against the shower wall and showing him just how rough he can be. But he’s mentally and physically exhausted. The weight of worrying about how this would end has lifted, leaving a bone-deep fatigue in its place. It might be the first time he’s felt entirely at ease since he left Mai. 

He showers quickly after you and Xavier, stopping by the bedroom again on his way out. Sylus figures the two of you need some time to yourselves, and if he sits back down, he’s afraid he won’t be able to get up. Wanting to take up the spot next to your sleeping form so badly, he forces himself to meet Xavier's eyes and say, “I’m going to head home… I’ll stop by in the morning.” 

As Sylus leans down to kiss your cheek, Xavier's soft voice brings a wave of immense relief, “You can stay if you want.” Xavier’s eyes hold no malice for Sylus anymore. They’re just gentle pools of blue that burn bright once again. The corner of Sylus’s lip curls as he pulls his shirt back off and snuggles against you under the covers. 

Xavier cuts the bedside lamp off, turning the room into a twinkling night sky of fairy lights before nestling in. 

For the first time in weeks, you all fall easily into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped in each other’s comforting presence.

જ⁀➴°⋆ Three weeks later

Your morning wake-up call, in the form of burnt food, has two sources today. They stand in the kitchen, arguing over why the food is burnt in the first place. Sylus leans against the counter, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face as he watches Xavier become increasingly flustered. 

“How did you do everything exactly as I instructed, yet still ruin the meal?” Sylus teases, his voice a deep, melodic taunt.

Xavier glares at him, pouting, “It’s not me. It’s your recipe's fault.” He tosses the food into the trash and hands Sylus the spatula. “I want strawberry pancakes,” he mumbles, grimacing when Sylus ruffles his hair. 

Their warm smiles greet you as you enter, only to be met with your grumpy morning face. “I’ll just make you what he’s having, sweetie. I’m too scared to ask.” Sylus comments. You narrow your eyes at him as you start the coffee pot. “Stop talking to me before I’ve had my coffee,” you tell him for the millionth time.

Truth be told, though, it’s nice to wake up to this in the mornings… To wake up to them. You've been nearly inseparable for the past couple of weeks, with Sylus staying over most evenings. There was never a discussion about what would happen next after that night. It was just a silent agreement, a rhythm you all fell into, one as easy as breathing.

Xavier is surprisingly comfortable with Sylus’s new place in your lives, but whenever the two of you are alone, he likes to fuck you like he isn’t. Whispers of “mine” are chanted against your skin as he makes you take his cum over and over. He likes to tell you what a bad girl you’ve been, fucking you so hard you’re limping the next day. 

A couple of days ago, Xavier ordered takeout for you and Sylus, offering you the night alone while he went to see a movie. Both of you stared at him in shock as he turned to Sylus and warned, “You know the rule. Break it, and you die.” 

The following day, Xavier punished both of you, forcing you to edge each other to the point of tears while he watched. When it was almost over, Sylus was about to pull out, but Xavier grabbed his ass and pushed him deep inside you as Sylus’s cum filled you up. You’ve lost count of how many times Sylus has recreated that memory since then. 

Honestly, you figure it’s only a matter of time before they ask for a night alone—a vision that makes your knees weak and stomach flutter. This all feels so surreal, like the most perfect dream you could imagine, one you’re sure to wake from at any moment. But it certainly feels real when Xavier wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close for a kiss. 

You pull back slightly to see Sylus watching with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the same affection that makes your heart swell. The burnt food, the bickering, the tender touches—it’s all part of an intricate dance you’ve found yourselves in, one that feels more like home than anything else ever has. 

Taking a sip of your now-ready coffee, Xavier’s hand finds yours as Sylus returns to the stove. As you watch them move around the kitchen, your heart brims with certainty. This isn’t a fleeting dream but your beautiful, messy reality. A future filled with shared laughter and endless mornings just like this one. 

And so, you settle in for the day ahead, knowing that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together—burnt pancakes and all. 

જ⁀➴°⋆ Requested bonus scene of Sylus and Mai ♡

The day has been long, but the night is young and serene. Its quietness offers a brief reprieve from the unease that’s plagued Sylus since the day you left with Xavier. Pale moonlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow on Mai’s mahogany skin. Sylus traces his finger softly along her arm, meeting her deep amethyst gaze. 

Her skin dewy from hours of lovemaking, she looks almost scared as she searches his face, her eyes darting nervously as if trying to memorize every detail. Sylus cups her cheek, his thumb brushing an unshed tear as he murmurs, “Talk to me, kitten. Let me help...” 

Mai’s eyes cloud with guilt, haunted and regretful. She shuts them tightly before Sylus can truly grasp her turmoil. In a soft whisper, she confesses, “I did something, Sylus.” 

Confusion overwhelms him as he lightly grips her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “And what exactly did you do?” 

Tears begin to fill her eyes as she admits, “I… I slept with Zayne. And—and Rafayel.” 

Sylus releases her and sits up in the bed, letting her words sink in. Resting his head on his knee, he breathes deeply and slowly, fighting the urge to put his fist through the wall. 

In a broken whisper, he asks, “Why?” 

Mai is now in full-blown tears, reaching out to Sylus, but he jerks away from her touch. “Xavier left, and they—they’re both seeing someone. I… I didn’t want them to leave me too…” 

Anger and disbelief course through Sylus as he shoots her a withering look. “Is something wrong with the idea of them finding their own happiness, kitten? Everyone deserves that right. Who are you to decide for them?” 

Hurt flashes in her eyes as she whispers, “You’ve always said that you don’t mind if I—” 

Sylus cuts her off with a low growl. “I said I was up for sharing, kitten. I never intended for you to fuck them without me.” 

Mai winces at the raw pain in Sylus’s voice, attempting to reach for him again. Allowing her to hold him close this time, she cradles his face, brushing away a tear as she murmurs, “I’m so sorry, Sylus. I promise it won’t ever happen again...” 

He allows her to kiss him, their tongues dancing together, but his movements feel mechanical and forced. Fingers pressing into her hips, he gently pushes her back in a desperate search for space. Confusion flickers across her features as she clutches the comforter around her nervously.

He tries to reassure her, but his voice is too emotionless to be comforting. “I’m okay. I just need a minute.” 

Quickly retreating to the bathroom, Sylus runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands as pain threatens to consume him. His mind drifts to you, and he realizes you’re the only one who can ease this ache. Your warm, comforting embrace seems to pull him in from miles away, filling him with the resolve to visit you tomorrow. The thought of seeing you is the only thing that gets him through the rest of the night with Mai. 

Mai prods him about his feelings all night until Sylus is forced to ask her to give him some space and time to process. She respects this boundary and even gives him adequate breathing room, which he greatly appreciates. Despite her efforts, her touch makes him feel ill, like he’s become a repellent magnet. The TV, tuned to your favorite cooking show, helps keep him sane until he can see you again.

Unfamiliar feelings hit him once more, the need for you feeling different and much more potent than usual. Confusion fills him when his mind lingers on visions of you comforting him with more than just a hug. He’s touched you so many times that he can practically feel your skin beneath his hands as he closes his eyes, soaking in your image to calm the storm inside him. Guilt swims in him for getting so upset at Mai for cheating when all he can think about is you. 

Mai’s soft voice breaks through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality with an agonizing jolt. “Want to go out and do something tomorrow? We could try out that new hiking trail,” she suggests, a hopeful gleam in her gaze as he reaches for his hand. Sylus stares at the ceiling, his voice void of emotion, “I’m going away on business. I’ll return in a few days.” 

Her body stiffens, and she narrows her eyes. “It’s not for business… You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?” she accuses, anger filling her features. He turns to her with a bored look, “Is that a problem?”

 Mai yanks her hand from his limp grip with a disbelieving shake of her head. “You desire her too…” she murmurs heatedly, searching for his reaction. Sylus sighs in frustration, his tone icy and bland, “Does it really matter after what you did?” When she snaps back with, “fuck you,” before walking away, Sylus plans to let her go.

As she makes it to her room, unaware that Mephisto is watching from the shadows, she mutters, “I should have taken care of the bitch myself.” His evol sneaks across the house, rearing up like an angry beast as it wraps around her, carrying her struggling form to drop before his feet. “Care to repeat that, kitten?” In all her lifetimes with Sylus, she’d never heard his voice hold such fury before. 

While Sylus wields terrifying power and is feared across galaxies, Mai has never been afraid of him. But she certainly is right now, and Sylus revels in seeing her fear overtake her. “I’m assuming you didn’t consider how losing her might affect me?” he hisses. 

“You’re immortal, Sylus. Inevitably, she’ll die, and you’ll lose her anyway. Really, I was saving you from her loss being so much worse down the road.” Her tone suggests she truly believes her words.

But it’s the carefree way she delivers them that irks Sylus. Suddenly unable to look at her, his feelings swarm in distress as his quiet voice fills the air. “This is the last time you’ll see me. Take care of yourself, kitten.” He cups her cheek and kisses her forehead before resting his against it. Tears stream down her cheeks as she stands still as a statue. Sylus breathes in her scent, though it no longer holds the comfort it used to. His heart shatters into pieces around him as he murmurs, “Get out.” 

Luckily, Mai makes a hasty exit because moments later, Sylus’s fists litter the wall with holes as furious screams echo through the house. Furniture breaks, and glass shatters as agony consumes him. When the front door shuts behind Mai, the bond linking them pulls painfully tight before snapping. Sylus falls to the floor, his hands lying limp at his sides as the sound of him quietly crying fills the air. 

He realizes suddenly that there’s no way he can let you see him like this. There’s no way he can be near you and not snap, knowing you withheld such vital information from him. Disgust swells as he remembers his moments of intimacy with Mai.

She tried to kill you, and he… How could you not tell him? You’ve been each other's confidant and sounding board for years. You tell each other everything. 

Sylus doesn’t visit you for a while, choosing to communicate only by text. You notice his distance but don't pry, knowing he’ll open up when he’s ready. It takes a while for Sylus's anger to simmer down, and for him to process his feelings about Mai and you. 

Part of the reason for staying away had been in a hopeless attempt to temper his feelings for you. The thought of ruining your friendship was unbearable. But the pull to you was compulsive, steadily chipping away at his resolve. 

When he finally sees you walking toward him from across the bar, he’s surprised by how wildly his heart thumps and how badly he aches to hold you in his arms. He smiles at your exasperation as he presents you with another gift, much to your dismay. When you tease him about his singing skills, he decides he wants you to nag him about his lack of talent for the rest of the time. 

“Ever heard of personal space, dove?” he teases, feeling strangely nervous about your sudden proximity. Though he’s hesitant, it’s so easy to wrap his arm around you and pull you close, letting your presence ease his sapped soul. For the first time in a long while, when your fingers entwine with his, Sylus feels a sense of hope and peace.

[smallestapplin]

OPTIMUS LIKES TO PUT READER INTO A FULL NELSON OR A MATING PRESS! ANY POSITON THAT LETS HIM FEEL HOW DEEP HE CAN GO INTO READER!

Yes absolutely he does! Written from mostly Optimus's pov so cybertronian language is used.

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Optimus is a big softie at heart, especially for his darling. You're so small compared to him even if he uses mass displacement as best he can.

You're still tiny compared to him, but yet someone so much smaller than him captured his spark. You're so stunning, he loves to look at your face while he frags your cute valve.

He likes any position that gives him a better view of your face.

But given his size, even a full Nelson lets him lean over you to see what lewd expressions you're making, letting him see your greedy hole sucking him back in.

And oh your cries.

Your pleads for him, for more, he can't deny you, he's weak to you.

"Optimus! F-fuck, S'deep!!" How you try so hard to cling to him as he folds you and manhandles you however he wants.

He loves you so much, loves kissing you as you overload. You're so precious to him, he loves you, adores you.

He wants nothing more than to ravish you, to pour his love into you day in and day out, oh if only he wasn't so busy he'd stay with his spike buried deep inside you all the time.

Maybe even keep his helm between your legs and lick you clean.

[skzdarlings]

02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 2/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.

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pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.

inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.

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There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder.  Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing. 

The noise is not why you are still awake.   Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt. 

You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived.  You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone.  Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.

The argument you started. 

All weekend, you’ve been testing Minho’s seemingly infallible patience.  Minho might joke around sharply, but he’s a secret softy and it’s hard to get him genuinely angry.  You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control.  You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him.  He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.

Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.      

You didn’t cry.  You didn’t let yourself cry.  Maybe you can’t control anything else, but you can control that. 

Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain.  You can’t sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho.   The rain is coming down pretty hard.  You hope he gets back soon.   Much as you don’t want to face him, you are worried about him. 

As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside.  He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour.  You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out.   The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following.  It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched. 

He turns abruptly, looking right at you.  There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back.   An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you.   I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think.  The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall.  Your heart pounds.   That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides.  You don’t dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.

He turns off the lights.  Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent. 

You exhale.  It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns.  You hear him moving about in the dark.  You lay straight as a board, your back to him. 

You stare through the dark at nothing.  You know you should apologize for earlier but you can’t bring yourself to speak.   You just breathe. 

Minho climbs into the bed.  It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company.  He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt.  He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down.  It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe. 

The rain has slowed.  It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently.  

The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense.  It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating.   You swallow. 

The argument was your fault.  Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault.  You’ve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure.  You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry.  No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask.  Hug me, hold me, help me.   You don’t know how to ask for the things you want.   So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him.  

It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but it’s Minho who rolls over.  You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind.   He doesn’t quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second.  Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face.  You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I shouldn’t have said that shit.  I don’t even know why we were fighting.  Just call it my fault, okay?  I shouldn’t have taken a city girl camping.”   

He is trying to joke with you.  His friendliness is what gets you.  Even after everything, he is still so good to you.   

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying.  It’s a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it.  Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, rolling you onto your back.  He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion.  “I was just kidding.  I’m sorry.  Take a free slap.”  He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it. 

It does make you laugh, but it’s a watery sound, rippling through your tears. 

“Minho,” you say miserably, “I lost my job.” 

Understanding fills his expression.  You can’t bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest.   He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt.   You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing.   You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic.  

“That’s why I went out alone the other night,” you say.  Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now.  “I know it was stupid and it made you mad.  I just felt like I was gonna explode.” 

Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you.   That’s why you did it.  Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone.   His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.

He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesn’t stop rubbing your back. 

“I wasn’t mad,” he says after a minute.  “I was just worried.  And…”

You peek up at him.  He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard. 

“I was jealous,” he says bitterly. 

“Jealous,” you say.  “Of me?”  

“Yes.”  He gives you a very sarcastic look.   “I wished it was me in that little black dress going out and—no.  Obviously not of you.  Why do you always torture me like this?   Go cry on the floor.”  He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him. 

You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder.  Your head feels fuzzy and you don’t think it’s from crying.  Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy.   It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks. 

“There was nothing to be jealous of anyway,” you say softly.  “We didn’t do anything.  He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldn’t make me, well…”

“Keep stammering.  It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.”   

“Minho.”  You slap his chest.  His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission.   You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth.  “He wound up leaving before it could go farther,” you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze.  You know it’s a petty blow, but you can’t help but admit, “He said I was too uptight and left.”

Minho’s whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut.   

“No,” he says.  “No.   You’re just saying that to bully me.  I didn’t call you the same thing as that idiot.”   

“It’s okay,” you say. 

“No.” He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet.  “Ahhhhhhh.  I should be shot!”  

You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.          

“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Oh really?”  He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line. 

“Well.”  You burst into laughter all over again.  “Maybe just a little!” 

He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you.  Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin. 

“Minhoooo,” you whine to no avail.  He just grins and continues his attack. 

Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed.  You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too.  Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you.   You are both out of breath, both smiling.  His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push. 

The room feels quiet, the silence again tense.  But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before.   It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.     

You do not push him away.  You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull.  His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head.  He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed.  Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them.  He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. 

The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue.  He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard. 

“Wow,” you say softly.  You look at him.  His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isn’t a joke.   You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers.   “Just so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.”

He grins at that. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Really?” 

“Yeah.”  You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm.  He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist.  You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much.  “Everything you do turns me on, though,” you say.  “Even earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knife—”

His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows. 

“Garlic?” he asks.  “The garlic got you hot?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say, pouting.  “You already made me cry once tonight…”

“Oh, is that what happened?” he says.  “Sure, okay, let’s play.  I made you cry.   I should make it up to you?”

“Mhm…”

“Well then.”  He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips.   Then he abruptly pulls away.  He kneels upright and sits back on his heels.   

Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows.   He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“What is it?” you ask.   

“Hmm?”  He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one.  “What?  I’m just looking for some garlic, since you’re into that for some reason.  Give me a minute to remember where I put it.”  

“Ahhh, I hate you!”  You flop back down, covering your face with your hands. 

Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs.  He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on.  He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up.  

You hear the rustle of fabric.  Curious, you peek between your fingers.  Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips.  That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling.  Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off.   It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten. 

“Okay,” he says, nodding curtly.  “Your turn.”  He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers.  “Come on.  Hurry up.” 

Your brain has short-circuited.  It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it.  You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him.   You are checking each other out, looking up and down.   Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open. 

You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there. 

You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.

“What else then?” he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you. 

“Uh, ah, erm, hm—”

“You said everything I do turns you on.”  He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp.   Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours.  His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you.  “So,” he says.  “What else then?” 

“Oh.”  You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you.  “Um.  Well.  Sometimes when you’re driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kinda—” 

Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he can’t help but laugh.  He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.    

“Stop asking if you’re just gonna laugh!” you say, even while laughing too. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic and driving in reverse.  I’m learning so much.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” 

“That would be very rude,” he says.  “Especially since I’m about to go down on you.” 

“You—wha—ohhh—”

You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest.  You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho.  By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately.   

You don’t even have time to overthink.  The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being.  

You will figure things out.  You always do.  Right now, you let yourself lose control.   You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you don’t mind at all, because Minho has you.   You trust him completely.  Surrender is easy.   

The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor.  He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder.   He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs.  When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place. 

When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre.  Again, your fingers find his hair.  He doesn’t complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously.  Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task.  It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin.  

When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back.  He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge.  Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite. 

He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand.   

“On a scale of garlic to driving in reverse—” he starts. 

You playfully cuff the side of his head. 

“That good?” he continues to tease. 

You roll your eyes but smile.   You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked.   Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down and—

“Oh,” you say.  You look down at the same time as him.  A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants.  “You already—”

He flops down beside you and sighs.

“Sorry,” he says.  “You weren’t the only one amazed with my sexy performance.” 

“That’s okay,” you say with a laugh.  You roll over to rest your head on his chest.  His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back.  You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass.  You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came.  “I think it’s kinda hot, actually.” 

Minho came from eating you out.  Of course you think it’s hot. 

And of course he has to be Minho about it. 

“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic. Driving in reverse.  Premature ejaculation.  Uptight was definitely the wrong word.  I honestly don’t know if I can keep up with a freak like you—”

“Ugh!”  You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke. 

He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind.  This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times.  All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it. 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you whisper. 

“I like you too,” he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again. 

You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms. 

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Gift 🎁

Leah Williamson x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

Leah Williamson was on a mission—a gift mission, to be exact. With your birthday just a week away, she was determined to find something that was absolutely perfect, a gift that would make you smile in a way only she could. But finding the perfect gift? It was turning out to be a lot harder than she’d expected.

Leah had already scoured the high street, the little boutiques you loved, and even asked some of the other Arsenal girls for advice. Kim had suggested a designer handbag, but Leah dismissed it with a quick, "She already has a bunch, and besides, that's too generic." Katie had recommended a custom jersey signed by the team, but Leah just shook her head—she wanted it to be special, something unique and personal.

She had even been at it online, scrolling through websites, adding things to her cart only to delete them a moment later. It had to be perfect because you deserved nothing less.

The team could tell she was on edge. They’d never seen her so particular about something before. "Just get her something nice; she’ll love whatever you pick," Viv teased, watching Leah put down yet another promising option with a determined look on her face.

"But it’s not about her just liking it, Viv," Leah insisted, a hint of frustration creeping in. "It’s gotta be… special, you know? I want her to feel like I put thought into this. She makes me feel special all the time, and I just want to return the favor."

Caitlin nudged her with a knowing smile. "You’re such a softie, Leah. Just go with your heart. Maybe do something personal, like a scrapbook of memories?"

The idea sparked something in Leah’s mind. Memories. She suddenly realized maybe it wasn’t about finding the perfect gift on a store shelf. It was about creating it.

That night, Leah stayed up, gathering photos, mementos, and little notes she’d written over the time you’d been together. Each picture she placed carefully into a scrapbook, writing little notes on the margins—memories of trips you’d taken together, jokes only the two of you would understand, and random, sweet reminders of how much she loved you.

The final touch? Leah got a necklace, a simple silver piece she knew would suit you. She attached it to the last page of the scrapbook with a note: *For my favorite memories and the ones we’ll still make. Happy Birthday, love.*

When she finally handed you the gift on your birthday, she was nervous, fidgeting as you opened it. But the look on your face when you saw the scrapbook, flipping through page by page, laughing and tearing up, told her everything she needed to know.

Leah knew then she’d finally gotten it right.

[inuyashaluver]

maybe you could do one where leah is on her period and is really clingy to reader? love youu xxx

clingy - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which it’s your fiancé’s time of the month, all she wants is you

warnings: fluffy, mentions of period pain

a/n: hi, lovey! thank you for the request, i love softie leah!!! love you, babe! enjoyyy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

your fiancé, leah, absolutely hated being on her period. she always had awful cramps, she couldn’t wear what she wanted to without being scared of any leakage, everything was just annoying during her time of the month.

the only thing she truly thought was beneficial about being on her period was how you would fuss over her like no tomorrow.

leah easily said she was spoilt by you when she was on her period, mainly because she was a tad dramatic but you didn’t mind, clingy leah was one of your favourite leah’s.

—

you and leah grew up as family friends, the two of you confiding in each other and sharing secrets you wouldn’t tell anyone else. she was a year older than you and you admired her endlessly.

leah was always the sporty one out of the two of you while you took to the more academic side. but the thing was, you were soulmates, twin flames that couldn’t be extinguished, so similar despite your differences in hobbies.

you and leah trusted each other more than anyone, growing up together proving to be quite beneficial, as it’s sparked your relationship easily.

it all started when your friend from school had told you she had gotten her first kiss and you sulked all day. when leah found you to walk home together, your slightly sad expression had her worried.

“you alright, love?” leah asks cautiously, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walked.

“have you had your first kiss?” you ask simply, looking up at leah with bright eyes. her cheeks are a little pink, she shakes her head lightly and pulls you slightly closer.

“no, have you?” she says simply, you shake your head and looked down, she smiles subtly at that. you both chatted regularly until you made it to leah’s house, your second home.

by the time you both collapsed on her bed and continued to chat, you sat up to sit in front of her.

“hey, i’ve got an idea” you say cheekily, leah chuckles and sits up, her back resting against her headboard as you both sat cross legged looking at each other.

“go on then,” she smiles, you smile back and let out a little laugh. “should we kiss each other as practice for later?” you say nervously, there had always been lingering feelings for leah in your heart, who else would you want to practise kissing with so you didn’t mess it up later on?

“woah, what?” she breathes out, her nervous laugh coming out as you both blushed gazing into each other’s eyes.

“i trust you the most, i think it’s a good idea” you fiddle with your hands in your lap and leah cautiously takes yours into hers, smiling softly at you. “i’m happy to do it for you” you smile up at her and move closer. you swallow the lump in your throat and she can sense your nervousness.

“lovey, don’t be nervous, it’s just me” she giggles, running her thumbs over the backs of your hands. you nod and move closer, one of your hands steady on her shoulder.

she grins, cradling your jaw in her free hand as she pulled you closer, pulling you into a gentle kiss. your mouths move together sweetly, noses slightly brushing against each other as you kissed.

she smiles slightly into your mouth and pulls you closer, tugging you to sit on her lap while you continued.

you hum into her mouth and your hand makes its way to the back of her neck, gently grazing your nails there. she sighs contently against your lips, lasting for a couple seconds before she pulls away to look at you.

you’re both sporting wide pupils and kiss bitten lips as you both breathe out, just looking at each other for a few moments until you both break out into soft giggles.

she moves her hand to cradle your cheek, her thumb brushing your cheekbone affectionately as your eyes dart between hers.

“are we still practising?” she smiles, watching your gaze fall to her lips every time she spoke, you shake your head and move closer in her lap, “i always wanted you to be my first kiss” she admits sheepishly.

you experimentally move forward to pull her into another short kiss, pulling away with pink cheeks when she whines into your mouth. “me too” you assure, resting your forehead against hers.

and that’s where it started, you’ve now been dating for over 7 years, both of you irrevocably in love.

—

you were usually the more ‘clingy’ one in the relationship and leah loved it. when you’d hold her hand or her arm, kissing her cheek randomly throughout the day or laying completely on top of her after a hard day at work was the way to leah’s heart.

not to say leah wasn’t incredibly affectionate, it was a necessity for her to pull you into random kisses, a hand on your body or just holding you close whenever and wherever. she just loved to have you in her arms.

you found it a little funny when leah would swap roles with you completely whenever she was sick or on her period, finding it endearing how much she needed you at every moment.

leah had woken up first to incredibly painful cramps, rushing off to the bathroom and coming out with a groan. it was her time of the month, she wasn’t happy.

she rushes back into bed in search of your warmth, settling on top of you with her hands planted under your shirt and resting on the skin of your back.

she grumbles and buries her face into the crook of your neck and you stir slightly, inhaling the sweet scent of leah’s hair as it cascades around the both of you.

you place a hand on her back and rub comforting circles on it, she’s in pain on top of you and you could tell by the way her face was scrunching up in the skin of your neck.

“you okay, baby?” you mumble, feeling leah shake her head in your neck and letting out a little grunt in frustration. she takes her head out of your neck to hover her face over yours and she has a grumpy frown on her face.

you grin softly and lift a hand up to smooth the furrow in her brow, “so grumpy” you tease, making a smile quirk at the corner of her lips.

you look up at her with a smile, making leah’s heart lurch at the sight of the domesticity.

you’ve been living together for ages but she’ll never get over the giddiness of waking up with you every morning, especially in your shared home.

you cradle her face and pull her down to kiss you and she completely melts, kissing you softly and gently like she’d break you at any minute. you hum into her mouth and she grins slightly before pulling away with an expression of pain.

“oh, leah, love” you coo, running your hand up and down her back as she hid her face in your chest, staying there until her alarm went off to get ready for training.

despite numerous protests falling from your mouth about her going to training, she stops your complaints through another kiss, claiming she’d be just fine.

while she was getting ready, you went and made her a simple breakfast and a warm cup of tea, heating up a heat pack in the process.

she comes out to see you scrambling around in the kitchen and she smiles happily, at feeling her presence, you turn and grin brightly at her when you see her watching.

you open your arms up and she immediately walks into your embrace, her arms wrapped around your waist as she pressed herself against you, giving you gentle kisses on the neck while you played with the ends of her ponytail.

you kiss her cheek and make her sit down, she kisses you appreciatively when you hold the heat back against her lower stomach, feeling warm and fuzzy all over by the way you were taking care of her.

you were a medical researcher, something that leah loved to brag and boast about. and today, you were working from home, something leah knew.

she had to muster up a huge amount of courage and strength to not skip training today and just force you to cuddle her.

but she just couldn’t do it, she was extremely stubborn and wanted to go to training, trying really hard to not give in to your pleads of staying home.

she leaves with a reluctant kiss to your lips, claiming she would be just fine, even when her face of grimace was evident on her features.

you give her a stern look and she gives one back, both of you narrowing your eyes at each other but you kiss her nonetheless, knowing you’d see her in a couple hours.

—

as soon as she got on the pitch for training, she wishes she stayed home. the cramps were unbearable and nothing was helping. everyone knew something was wrong as soon as she came into the room but leah put on a front, saying she was just tired from the week.

she’d gone through training like normal but there was at least 3 hours left and she’s not sure she can handle it. everyone’s in the gym and she opts to sitting on the floor with beth, viv and lia for some light stretching.

beth had gone to the bathroom while leah, viv and leah chat, though she couldn’t really focus, the pain in her stomach distracting her completely.

in reality, beth had called you, her first words when you picked up being, ‘how did you let her out of the house?’ you can’t help but laugh and assure to beth you’d be there soon.

you quickly get in your car and drive over to arsenal’s training facility, rushing to find leah through the help of the staff.

when you enter the gym curiously, beth spots you first and lets out a little sigh of relief. leah follows beth’s gaze and that’s when she sees you, her perfect fiancé bundled up in her clothes, head to toe as you smile at her knowingly.

her face softens when she makes eye contact with you, rushing over with a gentle smile as you open your arms to her. like the morning, she walks into your embrace and clings onto you like you were going to disappear.

“my stubborn girl” you coo, holding her close to you as she grumbles into the skin of your neck.

“what are you doing here?” she mumbles, taking her face out of your neck to look at you adoringly. “came to pick up my girl” you smile, beth comes over to the two of you with a little grin,

“i asked her to come, where’s my thank you?” she teases, leah rolls her eyes amusingly and kisses your cheek when she hears you giggle.

“thank you, beth, bye, beth” leah charms, waving off beth with her hand and focusing her attention on you.

“let’s go home” you say softly, grabbing her hand and tugging her out of the room after you both say goodbye. you’d already talked to jonas and he sent you both off without a second thought, knowing leah was miserable at the moment.

leah left her car at the training facility and you drove her home in your car, her hand clutching your arm and smiling softly, surprisingly not a single complaint about your driving coming out of her mouth.

—

when you both get home, leah hurriedly gets in the shower and puts on her most comfortable clothes.

you made her a quick lunch and she kisses your cheek repeatedly as you cuddled up on the couch to eat. after you were done, you picked a movie for her while you stayed on your laptop to do your work. leah gave you a stern look when you tried to go to the home office and you smile amusingly.

“baby, stay with me” she pleads, giving you her best puppy dog eyes, you shake your head with a giggle before agreeing. a happy leah kissing you quickly before focusing back on the movie.

she lays on top of you while your laptop rests on her back like a table. she’s happy about the whole situation, her arms wrapped around you while her head rests on your chest, she gives you soft kisses to your skin every couple of minutes and you would reciprocate by kissing the crown of her head.

she ends up falling asleep and you continue your work, ending up finishing early and following suit to join leah in a nap.

—

when you both went to bed that night, you made her lay flat while you gently caressed her stomach, kissing her cheek gently while you whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

the truth was, her cramps were basically gone now, she just loved all the extra attention you were giving her.

as soon as she was sleepy, she settles on top of you again, kissing your cheeks appreciatively as she thanks you. she falls asleep quickly in your arms, going to training the next day feeling much more refreshed.

she got teased relentlessly by beth but she didn’t mind, nodding and boasting about you whenever she could.

in the change room, you and leah were calling each other quickly while you were in the office and beth watches with a giggle, snapping a photo of leah talking to you all smiley as you chatted.

she made an effort to send it to you and you were eternally grateful, using it to tease leah whenever you could.

and, about a week later, you got your period also and swapped rolls again, letting leah fuss over you like you did for her. there no complaints from the both of you at all.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by bethmead_ and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: the best type of days with the best girl

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yourname: my clingy, grumpy girl

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re no better, little miss ‘if you eat my ice cream i’m breaking up with you’

↳ yourname: first of all, i would never do that, second of all, i told you that in the privacy and confidentiality of our home.

↳ leahwilliamsonn: sorry, my love

bethmead_: the only time you’re happy, i swear

↳ leahwilliamsonn: why does everyone think i’m so grumpy?

↳ yourname: aw, baby, it’s so cute that you think you’re not

↳ leahwilliamsonn: hm, that ice cream is looking really good right now

↳ yourname: you wouldn’t dare

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh but i so would

[ghostandsoap]

Feeling You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader Tags: Light smut. Cockwarming. Ghost being a softie. Word Count: 1.0k "Just happy you're here."

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

In the quiet sanctuary of your shared solitude, you and Ghost sat chest to chest, your hearts beating in a rhythm that echoed the symphony of your love.

The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other's presence, your souls whispering secrets that only you could understand.

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, blurring the lines between where one ended and the other began. Your breaths intermingled, a testament to the intimacy that you shared. Each inhale was a silent promise, each exhale was a sigh of contentment.

The only sounds were your breathing, heartbeats, and the occasional whimper from you when Ghost shifted his hips underneath you.

Ghost's cock was nestled far inside of you, his tip pushed against a sensitive spot that you didn't even know existed until just now. He stretched your walls so perfectly and sat so comfortably inside of you that Ghost felt high off of it.

You had soaked his thighs and lower stomach, your arousal leaking on and around him. You weren't much better, because your inner thighs were dripping.

The two of you were spending the week together, not a single plan or obligation to be had. Ghost had every intention of staying in and keeping you as close as possible. It wasn't often that he had this opportunity, and he would be a fool to let it pass him by. The week consisted of movies, snacks, cuddles, and just about anything else that didn't require either of you to leave.

The two of you had been lounging on your living room sofa, just watching some cheesy documentary that you both agreed to watch. It was more for filler noise than anything, because the two of you had managed to chat with one another through the entirety of it.

When the film was over, you turned off the TV and your side table lamp to prepare to close your flat up for the night -- however, Ghost wanted just a few more minutes.

This was about an hour ago when Ghost had set you up on his lap. Mainly just because he liked having the chance to look up at you and he loved watching you sit on his thick, muscular thighs.

Frankly though, he hadn't anticipated this.

Somewhere along the way, your cotton sleep shorts and T-shirt were discarded, along with his sweats. Your clothes were tossed aside to be retrieved in the morning.

The two of you had shared some sweet kisses, and all the shifting around prompted Ghost to slide his cock into you slowly when you were wet and ready.

However, Ghost held you still when you tried to bounce on him, which caused you to raise a brow. Ghost was sitting up straight against the back of the couch, holding onto you in his lap like you were his lifeline. It took you a few moments to settle into this arrangement that he was making.

Eventually, the two of you morphed around one another like you were the most perfect fit. Like two pieces of the most beautiful picture.

It was inevitable for you to start squirming though. After all, it was hard to resist him when he was literally right under you.

Ghost groaned and huffed when you rolled your hips forward, one of his hands coming to your hip to restrain you.

"Sit still," He said, kissing your forehead. "I just want to feel you for a bit."

"Sorry," You sighed, head still resting on his shoulder. "Just getting comfortable."

"It's alright, doll..." He chuckled. "Just happy you're here."

Ghost's fingers traced paths of affection on your skin, each touch igniting sparks that danced beneath the surface. The silence returned, filled with the unspoken words of love that hung heavy in the air.

In this moment, you were not just two bodies sitting chest to chest; you were two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of love. Your connection was palpable, a force that defied logic and reason.

As the two of you sat there, Ghost realized that he was living a life he never thought he would ever have. He was experiencing a love that was uniquely his. A kind of love that he once thought he was far too damaged and broken for.

"You're so beautiful," He almost whispered. "My pretty girl..."

You pulled your head back to look at him, your eyes sleepy and cheeks glowing. He loved you so much he could barely even understand it.

"I love you." You remarked, rotating your hips in a way that was more involuntary than anything else.

Ghost couldn't help but let out a low laugh when your grinding down against him was returned with a slow, yet firm snap of his pelvis into you. He knew that this charade wouldn't last long, because one of you was going to crack sooner or later.

"I love you." He returned, his lips meeting yours in a meaningful kiss.

He didn't stop you this time when you started to rock your hips against his cock, the feeling of moving inside of you causing a flutter of his eyes.

He couldn't deny you any longer. He had to let you have your way with him. Truth be told, it was starting to drive him a bit mad anyways.

Your movements along with Ghost's were slow and careful...sensual. He wanted to feel you for as long as he possibly could. He would do this forever and ever if he could.

His cock felt insane inside of you as you fucked him at such a glacial pace. It was insanity because Ghost couldn't believe that he could ever deserve something as good as this...someone as good as you.

The slow rise and fall of your body onto his made both of your hearts begin to beat faster. The two of you craving the other like you were the only source of life.

And in the sound of your shared heartbeat, you found a melody that only your hearts could compose.

[mzzledmutt]

—BLIND DATE

starring.ᐟ katsuki bakugou x reader

synopsis.ᐟ “a social engagement or date with a person one has not previously met.” After neglecting his personal life for so long, Pro-hero Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, can no longer run form the inevitable. With the help of his nosy parents, Katsuki ends up on a blind date with you.

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, first blind date, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, biting, marking, hair pulling, pet names (excessive use of princess), slight man handling, bakugou is a softie at heart, praise, slight softdom!katsuki, breeding

word count.ᐟ 4.8k words

m.mutt 𐂯 please enjoy my brainrot!!

KATSUKI Bakugou was known for many things. His boisterous personality. His bulky, intimidating stature. His impressive and powerful quirk. His less than family-friendly language and his hatred of paparazzi.

You would think being in the spotlight since 15, he would be used to it at this point. Maybe even indulge from time to time but, it’s never been his thing. He makes that fact well-known, constantly. Written and spoken interviews, press conferences, and award ceremonies, he will remind everyone to mind their own business. Especially when it comes to his personal life.

New photos and videos always arrive of the hero, dressed in alleged disguise, flipping off and yelling at the paparazzi. Especially when they get too close to his family and friends. One of his most iconic videos is of his poor father attempting to calm down both his large, rowdy son and his equally rowdy, yet smaller wife.

This strong distaste for the prying eyes and cameras belonging to paparazzi, unfortunately, takes a hard toll on his love life.

Their obsession with publicizing his entire life has forced his hand in many situations. That and the exclusive life he is now forced to lead. One of the biggest downsides of being a hero is the increase in difficulty in your love life.

These few relationships he’s had have all ended one of two ways.

One, in a ball of fury and tears. As a pro hero, Katsuki is often spotted with many people. Typically, people he knows. In bars and restaurants, caught conversating and drinking. Those candid moments are always being televised, even without his knowledge.

Suddenly, his after-work drink with a few friends is skewed and Dynamight is allegedly dating pro-hero Uravity. Resulting in arguments and watching as his partners stormed away.

Two, the spark simmers out. Coming home to put on a front feels exhausting as the days tick by, they both know it. It’s only inevitable until someone’s bags are packed. They’ll cry, holding hands on his couch as he speaks. They’ll go for a hug, only to realize now isn’t the time and leaving is the better option. Soon his apartment is quiet again, leaving him alone.

All of it has turned him away from the dating scene. He’s young and green, with plenty of time to settle down. Except, the consistent pestering from peers, fans, and his own parents is draining. Balancing his hero life, personal and love life all at the same time, was nearly impossible.

“I’m not going out with some chick you designed a dress for!”

“Just give it a try, you brat.”

Katsuki groans, his head rolling back at Mitsuki’s pestering. They were currently sitting in his childhood kitchen, eating brunch as they usually did on Sundays. “You have no idea, you could find the love of your life!” His father chimed in, attempting to add support.

“Maybe you’ll finally give me a grandkid.” Katsuki cringes, shaking his head at his mother’s words. “Look, as your parents we just want what’s best for our little boy. Even if you’re a hulking mountain a man now.”

“I think you should give it a try, she was a sweet girl too. Very well mannered.” Masaru pipes up in Katsuki’s silence.

“Look, just give it a shot. I’ll give you her number and you two can work things out. If things don’t work out you can always try again.” She sips at her hot tea, eyes fluttering shut due to the steam.

“And if I say no?”

“Why do you have to be so incredibly difficult?” Mitsuki scolds as he swirls his spoon in his tea. “Why do you have to be so incredibly annoying?” He muttered followed by a swift pop to the head.

“Ow! Shit!”

That’s how he ended up in this high-end lounge, awaiting a random woman his parents vouched for. He nursed a glass of whiskey, looking over their messages on his phone. Their conversation was rather bland, nothing incredibly enticing but, everyone doesn’t connect over text.

After some time, from his spot at the bar, he sends her another text. It’s only fifteen minutes, there could be traffic. He closes the messenger, choosing to scroll through his social media feed. Occasionally, he lifted his head scanning the area.

It wasn’t a quiet night, the place was bustling with conversation and laughter. Twenty minutes late.

He sent another text.

Everyone is secluded in their worlds, eating snacks and conversing with their loved ones. Their loud conversations exceeded the confinements of their seats. Katsuki was growing impatient.

Thirty minutes late. He’s already attempted to call, being sent straight to voicemail. Was this a joke? Had his parents set him up for some reason?

Glowering red eyes linger across the bar, noticing a figure he had seen earlier. Dressed in a sleek, black dress and nursing a martini between manicured nails. And another text.

Each time he looked in search of his alleged date, his eyes wandered back over to you. Watching as you pitifully looked around, maybe in search of someone like him. His eyes shut as he grimaced watching you pout. Your full, glossed lips jutted out with sadness.

He goes to pick up his phone and sends another message before, shutting the device off. Nearly an hour and a half late, he wasn’t that desperate to pester someone who didn’t care.

“Excuse me.” He calls the bartender. It didn’t seem like this mystery woman would be appearing any time soon so, might as well take a chance. “Lady at the end of the bar,” He gestured toward you. “Another of what’s she’s having, from me.” The man nods, heading off to prepare the new drink.

Katsuki grins seeing your reaction. Confusion washed over your face for a moment before you were directed towards him. Eyes locking for the first time that night. You smile and wave, he reciprocates nonchalantly.

Soon, his whiskey is finished and another is placed before him. “From the lady.” The bartender smiles, pointing his gaze to you once more. You raise your glass in solidarity, your beautiful smile still on display. He raises his glass, as a sort of distant cheers, taking a swig right away.

He watches as your gaze falls to the background, peering around the dim bar before you rise from your seat. Katsuki anxiously shifted in his seat, unsure of where you were going but, his anxiety didn’t settle as you stride over to him.

“Hi.” One word and he’s hooked. Your melodic voice wrapping itself around his brain and heart. “Hey, care to sit?” He offers the seat beside him. “Gladly.” You’re nervous, curt responses give you away along with the slight tremble in your hand.

“What are you doin’ here, beautiful?” He’s starting bold, liquid courage providing him strength. “I was supposed to be on a date. He hasn’t shown.” He ashamedly smirks. “Funny enough, I got stood up too.” He down the rest of his drink.

“What’s your name?” You answer sweetly, a bright smile on your face. He shared it, almost subconsciously. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki—“

“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m surprised everyone is being so calm right now honestly.” You laugh and his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Places like these are used to seeing pros, they get over it.” He replies, leaning against the bar top. “Not every day one-half of the wonder duo walks through those doors.” You reason, a smug smirk on your face as if knowing you’d won.

“Touché.” You giggle, a sweet sound he yearns to hear again. “Did you enjoy your martini?”

“It was delicious. Thank you, again.” Well-mannered and gorgeous. “Anything for a pretty girl like you.” You flush, thanking him profusely. He orders you both another round, choosing to carry on the conversation.

As you two spoke he fell deeper and deeper into infatuation. “I’m the newest assistant for your friend, Chargebolt. This is only my third month at the agency and I’m tired.” You sip at your drink. “Really? Been so busy I haven’t had a chance to make the trip. Can’t be an easy job though, knowin’ Kaminari.”

“It’s not the most difficult task in the world but, I do have to keep my eye on him like a toddler.” You share a laugh at the comparison.

The conversation shifts to your personal lives. Lamenting on your lack of a love life, work beginning to consume your free time. How your close friends and family have urged you to get out of your shell. Which led to this night.

His hand lays over yours as he showers you with compliments. Deflecting anytime your humble attitude attempted to shut him down. He complimented your dress, you tried to brush him off claiming that the piece was old and unflattering.

“Well, I think that dress is absolutely stunning.” His hand grasps yours, and you reciprocate. “I should know, my ma’s a designer.” He’s almost smug in saying that as if his association with a designer made him the judge of all fashion.

“I’m aware, I’ve browsed her catalog since I was little.” The way your eyes light up talking about particular garments his mother fashioned that she always dreamed of owning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in just about anything.”

“Are you flirting with me Katsuki Bakugou?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment. The two of you leaning into each other's spaces unknowingly. He could smell your sweet perfume from her, the scent filling his senses. “I am, is that alright?”

“It is.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips as you lick your own before sitting back in your seat. Katsuki’s already hooked, still leaning into your space as if entranced by you. He leans back, stuck in an unfamiliar haze of attraction.

That haze seemed to slow the time as he checked his watch seeing he had been chatting with you for nearly four hours. It was dark outside, patrons still lingering in the lounge.

“Hey, it’s getting late.”

“Is there anything I can get you? A ride home? Maybe a nightcap?” The last part was slightly rushed as if he were embarrassed. “A nightcap sounds good, I’m off tomorrow anyway.” The wink you give him doesn’t go unnoticed making his stomach tighten. “Excuse me, can I close our tabs?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, let me. Besides that jerk should’ve been here paying anyway.” You sit in silence as he closes you both out of the night and thank him as he helps you to your feet. Bakugou drapes his big coat over your shoulders, holding out a hand which you graciously take.

The contrast of the warmth of the bar and the chilly night air flushes your cheeks. You’re thankful to the hero for his warm coat. “Your hands are really warm.” You mutter as you both stride down the sidewalk.

Katsuki’s notices before you. The stares. People turn to whisper to each other as he walks beside you. Soon, there are flashes and cheers of his name. He rolls his eyes out of annoyance, holding onto your hand tighter as he moves faster. “Can ya’ keep up, princess?”

A small swarm of fans and paparazzi crowd the couple, snapping photos and begging for an interview. He barks orders at them to leave you alone, keeping your face obscured from their ravenous gaze. You blindly follow, rather unphased by the crowd around you.

Before you, a sleek, exquisite sports car sat with flashing headlights. Katsuki opens the passenger door, still blocking you from view as he helps you inside. Once the door is shut, you’re concealed by his dark tint. “Can’t you guys just fuck off, for one night?” It was a rhetorical question, more to himself than the people around him.

He waves at fans along the street, ignoring the money-hungry reporters behind him as he opens his own door and settles into his vehicle.

“I’m so sorry.” He’s met with a soft laugh and a gentle touch to his hand. “Katsuki, I’m used to it. This is a part of my job too, I’m just more behind the scenes.”

“They’re just invasive,” The card engine roars to life, vibrating the interior. “Almost predatory. Going any length for a snippet of gossip.” He groans, leaning his messy blond head against the leather seats. “Bakugo—“ - “Katuski.” He speaks over you.

His head lulls to the side, his full attention on you. “Katsuki. I appreciate all you’ve done tonight.” Plump glossed lips upturned into a smile that melts his heart. “Consider it a late welcoming gift. You’re lucky, I usually send assistants gift cards to a spa.”

You both laugh, a break between the growing tension filling the cramped space of his car as you hold eye contact. His tongue darts to lick his chapped lips, teeth barely grazing the skin before he clears his throat and looks away.

“You sure you still wanna go back to mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt and you do the same. “Yeah, it’s just one drink.”

One drink.

Just one drink.

The phrase repeated in his mind almost the entire time. Your voice disrupting his thoughts the only thing keeping him from being completely silence. He drives you to his building. A large, clean structure. Covered in windows, and lights, and well decorated.

You don’t even need to enter the lobby. Katsuki leads you to an elevator activated with a special keycard.

After a short trip, the doors open to this grand place.

You find yourself in awe as you walk through his front hall. His apartment was massive and spotless yet, homey. Although he clearly preferred a more modernized look, it still managed to have the charm and personality of his childhood home.

“This place is ten times bigger than my apartment.” Katsuki laughs, taking his coat from you and hanging it beside the door. “I want to downsize, this was an impulse buy from when I first started. A financial disaster is what I refer to it as.” You giggle, he swoons.

The blond guides you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool for you to sit in at the island. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up.” He offers. “I thought I was just here for a nightcap, not dinner.” You joke, settling down in your seat.

“Well, I like a nice snack when I drink and a lady always deserves a nice dinner on the first date.”

“This is a date now?” You quirk a brow, still rather unsure of what to make of this evening.

“Wasn’t it always? We both had shitty dates who stood us up, we just found each other instead.”

“Yeah, then I guess it is.” You bat your lashes as silence falls over the kitchen for a moment. Katsuki clears his throat and smiles, moving away to gather something to eat. “What’re you making?” You ask seeing as he stands before the fridge. “Nothing.”

“Fresh bow of fruit, put it together today. I can get some crackers and wine, that work for you?” You nod.

“Could you grab the bottle off the counter? Don’t worry about a screw I’ve got one.” You help yourself to sort of peruse his kitchen, taking in little bits of his taste from the pictures and decor before returning the bottle to him.

Katsuki pops the bottle, pouring you both half glasses. You cheers, taking the first drink together and savoring the sweet taste. “I didn’t expect you to like sweet wines.”

“I indulge from time to time, besides it was a gift from my ma.”

“Aww, Dynamight the mama’s boy.” You giggle, grabbing a fresh strawberry and popping it into your mouth. “Oh hush, she gets these kinds of things for free and knows I’ll actually use them.” He’s close, using his elbows to lean on the counter.

“So don’t always do this?” You can smell his cologne.

“Do what?” He can smell your perfume.

“Being pretty girls to your apartment.” The scents colliding are an intoxicating concoction.

“Only pretty girls I like.” A strawberry is held cautiously between his fingertips, held between your space. “You like me, Katsuki?” A rather silly question on your part, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

“I do, princess.” He slowly bites into the juicy fruit, keeping his eyes on you.

The sudden bass and rap of his voice along with the intense eye contact fill you with a sudden wave of heat. The facade of small talk became harder to keep up.

It wasn’t long before Katsuki was brazen enough to lean over the counter and press his lips against yours. Your glasses of wine are soon abandoned, sloppily making out as you sit on his pristine countertop. He stood between your legs, hands crawling across your back and hips as you pant into each other mouths.

Soon, you’re both stumbling down his spacious corridor and into his dimly lit bedroom. He lets you go, turning to close the door as you take in your surroundings. Once the door is shut his attention is back to you, frantic hands roaming over each other skin, pulling at the almost offensive fabrics that keep your bodies apart.

Your clothes are eventually scattered among his own on the bedroom floor as Katsuki gently lowers your naked bodies into his fresh sheets. Cradling your head as he brushes his lips along your jaw and neck. You shiver under his touch, calloused hands running along your soft skin, cupping your breast, and rolling your hardening nipples.

You mewl under his touch, legs squeezing his hips to keep him in place. His teeth nip at your jaw, lowering to nip and suck marks into the skin of your neck. Your hips buck against each other, his hardening cock jumping against your dripping cunt.

It was becoming too much. you whine, pulling his attention away from your neck.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His words are followed by more gentle kisses. “Want you, ‘suki.” you pout, eyes watering dramatically. “You want more, baby?” You nod, lips still stuck in a pathetic-looking pout. His right hand moves to your jaw, pinching the bone between a few, thick fingers.

“Use your words.” His voice is strong, and commanding. Yet, loving and soft. “I want more, ‘suki.” He smiles at your muffled words and presses a wet kiss onto your puckered lips. “I’ll give you more then, princess.”

Your jaws sore when he lets go, the feeling of his fingers still remnant in their wake. Your legs fall slack as the blond kisses down your torso, from the valley of your breast to the bottom of your navel. He follows the trail back up and down once more, staring you in the eye.

His eyes shift down for a moment, a wolfish grin forming on his face. “You’re dripping, baby.” He cooes making your skin flush. another whine leaves your throat as you tear your gaze away, trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “No no, look at me.”

“Good. Look at me, baby.” His right hand moves from rubbing at your hips, to gently caressing your skin until his thumb lands on your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden contact, your gaze locked on him. Thumb lowers to collect the juices from your cunt, making a show as he brings the digit to his mouth to taste you.

You’re infatuated with the godly figure before you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, muscles unintentionally flexed as he lewdly moans around his fingers at your taste. “‘s so good, princess. You taste so fuckin’ good.”

He makes of show of it, wickedly at your already blissed-out appearance. “So damn sweet, soakin’ my sheets.”

Your eyes follow him as he descends between your legs once more, harshly biting the plump skin before soothing it with kisses.

You’re so caught in your own pleasure, the shock of his fingers prodding your cunt forces a gasp. His free hand moves your thighs onto his shoulders as he stares you down. “Can I?”

One thick finger breaches your cunny slowly, gently pushing in before pulling out. He follows the motions a few times, watching as you gush around his finger. Soon, another is added. Carefully, thrusting into your pussy as he presses kisses to your clit.

You writhe at his ministrations, fighting to keep your eyes focused on the man before you.

He sets a slow and mind-numbing pace, slowly thrusting in and out. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers and your breath moans a chorus to him.

“Yeah? Feel good, princess?” He teases, gaze fixed upon your pleasure-ridden face. Your mouth is agape as strained moans are pulled from your aching chest. He was breaking you apart in two fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for his cock.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, baby? ‘M gonna stretch you open like a good girl deserves.” He declares, mainly to himself. Too lost in how your walls greedily suctioned his fingers back in.

Bakugou carefully leans down to lap at your clit, eliciting a soft cry and an arch of your back. He shuts his eyes as he savors the taste he was beginning to yearn for, suckling your poor neglected clit.

“Katsuki!” You shout, digging your nails into the pillow behind you. “Katsu—fuckk! Please, fuck me, baby! I need you so badly, need your cock so bad!”

He’s devoted to searing your taste into his mind. Messily coating his face and your cunny with a thin layer of wetness. Soon, he’s haphazardly withdrawing his fingers from your salacious cunt, against your protests to taste you further.

Spikes of blond hair bob between your legs, his tongue delving between your folds making you whimper and writhe. His hands grab a hold of your ass, holding you close to his face so you wouldn’t escape. Your back arches from the comforter, keening into his touch.

“God!” You cry as you fall back onto the sheets, fingers grasping for anything to clutch. His pace never falters, gratefully drinking your slick that spilled into his awaiting tongue, then swirling it around your throbbing clit.

“Kat—fuck! Baby—Katsuki!” Your body felt electric, an almost buzzing sensation that erupted from your pelvis and spread through your body. Your wanton moans are loose into the air, eyes shut as your head is tossed back.

You were a gorgeous statuette of pleasure.

You felt as if you bit off more than you could chew. Going out with a pro hero was already anxiety-inducing enough, practical criminal, allowing him to lure you to his apartment with promises of a nightcap, and now naked and wriggling beneath him was driving you to insanity.

And he's not even inside of you yet.

The maddening way his tongue circled your aching clit, inscribing his name into the bud. His blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass, keeping you relatively grounded. His tongue unrelenting stimulating your soaked pussy pushed you to your first orgasm.

A sudden wave of pleasure and the ever-growing pit in your stomach unravels through your body. You grip his hair, keeping Katsuki’s mouth in place as your hips buck into the pleasure. You loudly cry out his name, and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you cum.

He groans into your cunt, eyes rolling at the sweet taste of your cum. His hands rub your skin, easing away any pain left behind by his grip. Slowly, you open your eyes, chest still heaving.

“‘Suki,”

He pulls away, the lower half of his face soaked with slick and spit.

“M’yeah?” You can’t even think of what to say, just laying your head back to catch your breath. “You alright, baby?” You nod, still returning from your high. Katsuki crawls up to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “You look so pretty.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the soft skin.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He quirks a brow, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? I’ll fuck you, baby.”

“I promise, I’ll fuck you real good.” He captures your lips, sharing the taste of you once more. Your tongues are quick to entangle as you pant into each other's mouths.

Your fingers naturally gravitate to his blond hair, keeping him close as you kiss. Your bodies move together as you grind against one another, his hard cock leaking pre cum against your stomach. You’re both growing increasingly needier, rutting and panting like dogs in heat.

Katsuki breaks from the grinding, settling himself between your thighs. The tip of his cock pressed against your clit, spreading his precum as he teases you.

“You want it?”

“I want it, ‘suki.” His grin is wolfish at the nick, happily dragging his cock from your clit to press at your fluttering hole. He groans at the warmth and wetness, your dripping cunt already leaking onto him.

A pathetic high-pitched whine leaves your open mouth as his thick, heavy cock slowly bullies into your heat. Pushing deep into your plush, warm walls. Katsuki is slow, taking his time to ease you into the feeling. His lips are on your breast, kissing and nipping the soft skin.

“More, please.” You whine, your hands moving to hold onto his back. His hips increase in pace, still slow as you hiss once he draws back.

Katsuki slowly molds your tight pussy to his cock, stretching you open to only accommodate him. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his back only encourages him to thrust faster, making you cry out his name. Your cunt loudly gushes around his heavy cock, spilling syrupy juices down your skin.

“God damn, this pussy—fuck—you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” He grits out, grabbing your leg and pushing it back to the mattress. The change of angle causes you to lurch forward, your hands pushing at his shoulders. “Oh my god, Katsuki!” You shout, as his throbbing cockhead smushes against your cervix.

He’s back to sucking your tits, leaving spit-soaked freckled hickeys in his wake. You’re still adjusting to his size, the sudden change in position driving him deeper into your guts.

He’s pressed himself closer against you, his pelvis adding stimulation to your nice neglected clit. You throb around him and cry, fat tears slipping from your eyes. “Y’feel that, baby? I’m so deep in this pretty pussy. Y’feel me in yer tummy, does it feel good, baby?” You’re incoherent, only capable of breathless moans and sobs.

“You look so pretty, all fucked out ‘cause o’ me. Tell me, baby, do I feel good?” His hand cruelly comes down to press on the slight bulge in your stomach, causing your poor cunt to twitch around him. “‘s too much!” You cry out, pushing against him to no avail.

“Too much? You can take it, princess. Can’t ya’?” His pace suddenly grows rough, hips slamming into yours as he fucks into your cunny. He pressed your other leg to the mattress, forcing his cock all the way inside.

You’re mindless. Eyes rolled back into your skull, unintelligible moans and clawing at his skin. The rooms full of thick, humid air, the sounds of your squelching cunt, and a chorus of moans. Bakugou savors this image, in case he may never get the chance to see you again.

He caresses all of the right places inside of you, each thrust full of never-ending pleasure. His wicked tongue in your nipples and sinful roll of his hips push you to the edge. Like a burning fuse, slowly trailing all the way to a firework.

“Y’close baby? Don’t worry, you can cum for—fuck! You’re so fuckin’ wet—cum for me.”

Katsuki’s thrust increases to a maniacal speed, jostling you around his mattress without care. He was chasing his orgasm now, keeping you secure beneath he ruts into you. Heavy balls slapping against your asshole, the rough feeling of public hair against your soaked cunt. You can’t think let alone protest before he’s spilling his cum deep inside of your womb.

Katsuki keeps himself buried inside of you as he changes position, opting to hold you instead. You’re both panting as if you’ve run a marathon, hearts racing and skin coated in sex and sweat. You lay in silence, catching your breath for just a moment.

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” He mutters into your hair, rubbing your back. You breathlessly giggle against his chest, shaking your head. “I can’t feel my legs, Katsuki.” He smiles, cheering to himself.

“How about we clean up and get some rest? I’m beat.” A yawn cuts you off as you agree, alerting you to how exhausted you truly are. Katsuki kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep and tomorrow, we can continue this date. That sound nice?” You nod again, and slowly drift to sleep.

“Good. Stay here and look pretty, I’ll run a bath.”

[kzrosa-writes]

remnants of a lost love for a ghost | dottore x reader

prompt: after four hundred years, you are reunited with your past lover, except he wasn't the same person you used to know

notes: angst, no happy ending, mentions of blood and swords, mentions of death n killing each other, dottore is an emotional mess, aether is the traveler, more angst

a/n: this has been in my drafts for almost a month... i am proud to say i finally finished it! im such a softy for dottore so it was hard to write something so sad for him 😭💔

word count: 6k

Dottore had never been one to fall in love. He always had his priorities straight: his experiments, his role as the Second Fatui Harbinger, and his pursuit of knowledge. Everyone knew Dottore as the cold-hearted, cruel and apathetic Second Harbinger, a man who values the results of his atrocious, unethical experiments over the lives of humans.

Yet, he found himself frozen in place as he stood before you, the only person he had ever loved. You held yourself with grace and confidence, striding towards him from across the snowy lands of Snezhnaya. You held your sword firmly in your right hand, the tip of the metal grazing against the ground below you with each step you took. An old memory from his past, his lover during his time in the Sumeru Akademiya, was now standing right in front of his very eyes.

Y/N L/N... You were known as the prodigious traveller who fought alongside the legendary traveller Aether — you were the Fatui's most formidable enemy, and the very person that he was meant to fight and kill.

Dottore could feel his chest tighten at the sight of you. It had been over four centuries since he had last heard of or seen you after he had been expelled from the Akademiya for his immoral and unethical experiments. You still looked as beautiful as he remembered all those centuries ago, although much has changed about you. Your once-pristine skin was now decorated with scratches and battle scars, a reminder of the battles you had fought and a reminder of how you got to where you were now. You now adorned a black rose insignia on your waist, a mark that signified your affiliation with the Fatui's most formidable rival organisation.

However, what didn't change was the burning sparks of determination and resolution in your eyes. It was something he could never forget, no matter how many times he tried to forget about you. His eyes lingered all over your figure, his gaze landing on a flower in your hair. It was a Kalpalata Lotus, the very flower Dottore had gifted you during your days in the Akademiya. He still remembered the ebullient smile on your face, how effervescent you had been when he had gifted you the flower. He still remembered all the hours he had spent perfecting the preservation process, ensuring that the flower was perfect, just for you.

He had to hold himself back, to resist the tantalising urge to reach out to you and hold you in his arms again. Oh, how he missed the feel of your skin against his own, your warmth seeping into his heart like the old days. But things weren’t the same anymore. He had to remind himself that you weren’t the same person he used to know and that things have changed throughout the past few centuries. He held his breath, attempting to rein in his emotions.

"Y/N..." Dottore called out, his voice betraying the pain in his heart.

You took a few stops closer, your grip on your sword still firm. "Second Harbinger of Snezhnaya... Il Dottore."

He felt his heart shatter into pieces at the sound of your voice calling out to him by his Harbinger title, your tone cold and apathetic. He desperately wanted to break free from his emotions and the restraints of his title, to throw himself into your arms after all these years, but he couldn't.

With a firm step forward, Dottore spoke again, his voice trembling in the slightest. "Y/N... It has been so long. Do you... still remember me?”

The twitch of confusion in your eyes was more than inconspicuous to Dottore. He felt his heart ache with vigour at the lack of recognition from you. Have you forgotten about him? All those years you had spent together in the Akademiya... did they all mean nothing to you? Was his love for you all in vain?

"We... We used to go to the Akademiya together!" Dottore said, his voice cracking in the slightest. "Don't you... Don't you remember?”

At this point, Dottore was desperate for you to remember anything, even if it were the bad memories. It pained him to see how clueless and indifferent you were, how oblivious you were to the anguish and distress in front of you.

Your gaze hardened into one of apathy. "I don't remember attending the Akademiya with a psychopathic heretic."

As the words slipped right out of your mouth, your eyes widened with realisation, as if a memory had been unlocked from within.

“W-Wait.”

Dottore felt his heart being torn apart. He let out a bitter chuckle as he felt your words stabbing into his heart like a knife. Of course, you had remembered him as the heretic of the Akademiya, just as everyone else in the Akademiya had remembered him as the heretic who performed unethical, immoral and dangerous research and experiments, all in the name of science, and to satiate his naive curiosity.

Your breath was now caught in your throat, coming out in ragged and laboured exhales. You shook your head as if you were trying to deny the reality in front of you.

"N-No... This can't be..." The sword that was in your hands was now trembling with uncertainty. "...Zandik."

There it was: Zandik, his real name, one that meant 'heretic'. He couldn't hold back a bitter scoff at the sound of his old name, a name he had tried so desperately to forget, along with the painful memories of his past.

Despite those painful memories, he can never truly forget the memories and times he spent together with you. The memories of your shared time in the Akademiya were now playing like a montage in his head; the images and memories of laughing together, studying in the library together and working on projects, talking about your favourite academic theories and philosophies... He remembered how close the two of you were, how he could make you laugh easily, the lunch breaks you two spent together by the lush field in Sumeru, and the jokes you shared. He remembered the evenings you spent together by his side while picking flowers in the forest, the soft whispers of love and comfort shared with each other, or the stolen kisses in the dimly lit corridors of the Akademiya... how could he ever forget those memories? His heart longed for those days again, when life was much simpler and when all they had to stress about was deadlines.

Now that he was finally in front of you after all those years, he was unsure of what to do. Dottore was on the verge of breaking into tears, his heart swelling with longing and despair at the sight of your disbelief. With shaky hands, he slowly reached for his mask before hesitantly taking it off, revealing his crimson scarlet orbs — a sight you could never forget despite all the years that had passed.

He slowly took a step forward, trying his best not to scare you away. He had to be closer to you to convince himself that you were really there and not just a hallucination. He wanted to say so many things, mutter many apologies, beg for your forgiveness… but nothing could escape his lips.

It took all his willpower and strength not to succumb to his own desires and longing to reach out to you and break down. Rather, he just stood there, staring back at you with a mixture of hope and despair, two opposites of the same spectrum. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to ask of you.

“Y/N… Do you… Do you still have any feelings for me..?”

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath hitching and your grip on your sword tightening more than ever from his unexpected question. You stood frozen in place, unable to move or respond. You had no idea how you were supposed to respond to such a question, especially after finding out that your very enemy and opponent… was the very man you used to love deeply with all your heart and soul. The Fatui Harbinger who had been trying to stop you… was your old lover.

“I-It's… It's been too long.. Zandik. We haven't seen each other… ever since you'd been expelled.”

He closed his eyes shut for a moment, recalling the painful and bitter memories of being expelled and thrown out of the Akademiya, shunned and mocked by everyone. He recalled the feeling of being torn apart, the day he lost everything… including you. It was a day he could never forget, regardless of how much he wanted to. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes, taking one more step further.

“Indeed… It’s been way too long…” He repeated your words, his voice close to a mumble.

He could almost feel how tense you were, how vulnerable and distraught you were. He knew that this was the best opportunity to strike, to end her, to get his mission over with. But no matter how much he screamed at himself to go through with the plan… he couldn't find it in him to do so. He couldn't help himself, he wanted — no, needed — to know your answer. He had to.

“Please, Y/N…” He swallowed anxiously, trying to rein in his emotions. “...Do you still feel anything for me?”

“Are you asking me this as Dottore… or Zandik?”

Dottore's body froze in shock, the question catching him completely off guard. And yet, it was probably the most sensible thing you could ask him. After all, it had been several centuries since you had last seen him. He had changed, and you had too. You knew him as two entirely different people, and he could understand that.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, hesitantly slightly before replying, “I'm asking you this… as Zandik.”

He knew that this was risky, that his reputation and role as a Fatui Harbinger could be jeopardised by letting his guard down in front of the enemy, but he couldn't care less about the consequences.

You, on the other hand, felt your chest tighten at his words. Your throat was tight, feeling a lump preventing you from breathing properly. Your grip on your sword slowly loosened, your hands trembling ever so slightly.

“I… I do.”

That was it. His heart stopped in his chest at the sound of those two words, your confirmation. Such a simple response, yet it carries so much meaning. It carried all the dreams and fantasies he had always imagined for the past four centuries… It was everything he could have hoped for. And yet, a wave of overwhelming emotions crashed through him like a violent tide in a stormy sea. Just like raging waters, Dottore was suffering an internal maelstrom of relief, joy, hope and desperation. He couldn't believe it. Centuries of desperate longing, of missing you, of mourning your loss in his life… and you were finally here, right in front of him.

He could feel himself slowly moving towards you, his movements in deliberate and shaky steps. It was absolutely excruciating to be so close to you, yet so far. He couldn't help himself, he needed to hold you in his arms again.

But that all came crashing down when he saw you back away, watching you as your grip on your sword trembled with overwhelming shock.

“P-Please…” You begged, your eyes glistening with sorrow and anguish. “..D-Don't.”

He stopped in his tracks, watching you as you backed away. It broke his heart to see that reaction from you, to see how you were clearly struggling to cope with everything. But at the same time, he could hear the desperation in your voice, the plea for him to stay where he was. Somehow… that gave him a small, miniscule amount of hope. He knew that this wasn't going to be an easy conversation, that this would take a lot of courage and strength from the both of you… but he was willing to do it. Anything for you.

He took a deep breath, trying to study himself before speaking again, trying his best to stay grounded and not let his desperation and longing for you show too much.

“Say it again, Y/N. Say it again without any fear, any doubt or any hesitation. Say those words again, and I promise I won't take another step closer to you.” He said, his voice trembling with each word. “Please, Y/N… I need to hear you say it again.”

You exhale shakily, your grip on your sword slowly becoming firmer.

“I… I still love you, Zandik.” You clenched your fist wrapped around the hilt of your sword, your breathing still erratic. “...But you're not Zandik anymore, aren't you?”

His heart clenched when he heard your words, the flicker of hope slowly dying out. It was almost too good to be true. He almost had it, everything he truly wanted, and yet… he knew you were right. He wasn't the same man he used to be in the Akademiya.

“You're… correct.” His voice was soft, almost inaudible. “I'm not Zandik anymore.”

There was no denying it. He was an entirely different person now, and the moments and memories you had shared were too far in the past, so many centuries ago. And yet, the fact that you still felt something for him and confessed your love to him despite all those years apart… he couldn't deny that he still had hope. The fact that you still loved him after all this time, the fact that you hadn't let go of the love you had for him… that was all he cared about in this moment.

Dottore could feel his heart clench and palpitate, his chest tightening with a mixture of love, hope, guilt and desperation. He missed you so much; he missed everything about you, from your voice to your touch to your scent. He missed the times he'd spent with his arms wrapped around you in the forest as you basked in the glory of nature during your midnight rendezvous in your favourite spot of the forest, enjoying each other's presence and warmth in the cold, chilly night air. All he wanted was to hear you say those words again. Those three words, so simple and so short yet carrying such a heavy meaning. All he wanted was to hear that it was him you loved, and not just his former self.

“Please… tell me again. Tell me that you still love me, and not Zandik. I need to hear you say it.” His voice was close to an anguished whisper, a desperate plea. “I need to know that it's me that you feel something for… and not just a memory of someone that no longer exists.”

“I… I can't do that.”

Dottore could feel his heart slowly break apart from your words. A part of him had been hoping, foolishly hoping, that even after all these years, after all the atrocities he had committed as a naive scholar and a Harbinger, you would still feel some sort of affection for him. He couldn't bring himself to speak, his heart swelling with pain and desperation.

“...Why…?”

His words came out as a broken whisper as he felt the resolve and hope in his heart slowly fade away. You still loved Zandik, the old him, the person he used to be all those centuries ago. But somehow, there had still been a part of him that had foolishly hoped that your feelings for him would still be the same after all this time. He was terrified, absolutely petrified, of your answer. He knew that your answer might break him for good, but he had to know the truth.

“I still love you, Zandik… I really still do.” You said softly, your voice was wavering with pain and sincerity.

Dottore could feel his heart swelling with hope and longing, his mind racing with anticipation. Perhaps, just somehow, he hoped that you were willing to embrace his new identity.

Your hands were trembling terribly to the point you dropped your sword, the hilt of the blade knocking onto your foot. You felt your chest tighten and the air in your lungs slowly getting sucked out, holding back an anguished cry. Your lips were wobbling and your eyes were watery, beady crystals threatening to spill loose. Despite this, you managed to voice out in a choked whisper.

“Because… you're no longer the man I used to love.”

He knew he had been foolish to hope that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to accept him and embrace his new identity. But there it was, the confirmation he desperately looked for. Your words shattered his heart into pieces, ripping his soul apart with no way of mending it. He had the confirmation he was looking for about how you felt about him, that what you felt was just love for a man that ceased to exist.

“...And you cannot love the man I am now?”

Dottore’s voice was raw, weak and almost pleading. There was a hint of desperation in his words, as if he was praying that there could be an actual chance that you could still feel something for him, regardless of who he was now. That tiny sliver of hope that ached in the remnants of his shattered heart still flickered and burned passionately. But deep down, he knew you wouldn't, he knew that it wasn't possible. And yet, he still chose to ask that question, a question that could crush his soul further.

“I-I… I don't know.”

A bitter scoff broke the dreadful silence that loomed in the air. He knew what your answer was. He knew deep down that you would never, and could never love the person he was now, no matter how hard you tried. He knew that you loved a ghost, someone who no longer existed in this cruel world. He let out another sharp laugh, a laugh filled with bitterness and harshness.

“Of course. Of course you can't. I would expect you to love someone… like me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. It was all he could do to keep his composure without showing you the immense pain he was feeling inside. He had been too foolish to hope that there was even the slightest possibility for you to love him, even if it was just a few sparks of affection, despite the person he had become.

You wanted to say something, to retaliate and to tell him otherwise… but you couldn't. Nothing could escape from your lips. You stood there, trembling and shaking, as a single bead of water escaped your lids. You clenched your fist, forcing yourself to not break down. Especially not… not in front of Il Dottore, the Second Fatui Harbinger… and the person you were meant to end.

“...I-I don't know how am I supposed to kill you now.”

Dottore's eyes widened slightly at your words, noticing how your voice was shaky and uncertain. He could see that you were struggling to maintain your composure, how your eyes were watery as if you were on the verge of tears.

“...And why? What's… holding you back?” Dottore took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours, his chest aching with pain, and a small flicker of hope.” “Why are you so hesitant to kill me?”

You took a step back, more tears spilling. “Stop.” Your voice was shaky, coming out almost as a plea. “Don't move closer, please.”

The sound of your voice saying those words, so desperate and so shaky, caused his chest to ache and tighten further. He stopped in his tracks, watching you keenly as you struggled to hold back your tears. Dottore swallowed hard, trying to pull himself together.

“Why?” He prodded, still staying in place. “Why can't I come closer to you?”

His voice wobbled slightly, his chest aching with a strange mixture of pain and hope. He wanted to be closer to you, to hold you in his arms as he basked in your presence, but he didn't dare to make a move, not while he could see the look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“I…” You swallowed anxiously, uncertainty written all over your face. “...I can't do this, Zandik.”

Dottore winced at the sound of his old, former name, yet a small part of him ached to hear it again. He wanted to hear you say his name, the name he went by now. He wanted you to know him, not the ghost of a man who had long disappeared from this world. He took another shaky breath, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke.

“Please… don't call me that…”

You clenched your fists, shaking away the tears that stained your face. Your expressions changed from despair to one of apathy, the sparks in your eyes slowly dying down before being extinguished.

“I can't do this… Dottore.”

Your tone was cold and harsh, devoid of any remaining emotion left inside of you.

Dottore's heart twisted inside his chest at the sudden change in your mood and tone, the use of his Harbinger name sounding almost… resentful. It was almost as if you had shut down every single emotion from your body all at once. He watched as you swiftly picked up your sword from the ground, your grip tightening on the hilt. He had no doubt that if he were to come any closer towards you, you'd attempt to slice off his head without a moment of hesitation.

Dottore didn't speak. Instead, he watched you silently as his chest ached from the complete change in demeanour. He couldn't help but miss the moments before, the glimpse of your vulnerability, and the flicker of emotions in your eyes. But now… you were everything but that.

“What do you intend to do now…?” Dottore asked, his voice hesitant. He knew that he was only digging himself a deeper grave, but he could stop himself from trying his luck further and further.

Your fingers trembled as you held the hilt of your blade, your voice soft and uncertain. “...I don't know.”

Dottore could hear the uncertainty in your voice, your inner turmoil evident. That almost let him fill his heart with hope again. Almost. But that cold, harsh tone and the apathy in your expressions held him back. He hated it. He absolutely loathed it. Dottore took a small step forward, ignoring the way your body tensed at his actions.

“What does that mean..?” His voice dropped to a low whisper. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he was desperate for anything.

“I… I can't bring myself to draw my sword onto you.”

Dottore’s eyes widened slightly at your reply, his heart warming up for a small flicker of hope. You couldn't bring yourself to draw your sword on him… perhaps there was still a chance. He took another step forward, the distance slowly closing between you two.

“...Is that so?”

“Don't move any closer.” You said — rather, you commanded. Your voice was firmer and louder, any sign of hesitation completely vanished. You raised your sword in the slightest out of instinct, but something was holding you back.

Dottore watched warily as you lifted your sword, noticing your hesitation. He took another small step forward, trying to keep his emotions in check. “And why should I stop…?”

“Please, Dottore.” You begged, desperation evident in your voice. “Don't.”

He stayed in his place, keenly observing your conflicted expressions. “Why not, Y/N?”

He knew he was pushing it, but he couldn't care less about anything else at this moment. All he wanted was you, to have you back in his life again, to have you in his arms. But your next words hit him hard, the cold and harsh reality of the situation slapping him like a hard brick.

“I'm supposed to kill you, Dottore.”

Dottore grimaced slightly, your words cutting through him like a knife to the heart. Of course, he knew this. He was fully aware that they were still enemies regardless of their past, and that they both had a duty to fulfil. But to hear you say it so coldly, so bluntly… It still hurts.

He let out a soft chuckle, one filled with resignation. “...That's right. You're… You're supposed to.”

Despite knowing this, he couldn't stop himself. You were his enemy, the very person he was supposed to kill. He had to end your life, to take away your soul from this world, and you would have to do the same. Regardless, he still yearned for you, for what you used to share. The thought of you trying to slice his head off pained him immensely, causing his thoughts to swim in an endless sea of despair.

“Then… What is stopping you?” He prodded further, taking another step forward. He was now only a few inches away from you, and he didn't miss the way you flinched fearfully at the proximity.

“I… I can't.” You finally managed to speak, your voice a choked whisper. Your grip on your sword tightened to the point your knuckles were stained white. Apathy and indifference were painted all over your face, your eyes lacking their usual spark.

Dottore stayed silent, his heart and mind racing frantically. Hearing your hesitance rekindled the sparks of his hope in his heart that had been hastily extinguished, with hopes that they would flicker and burn into a bright fire of passion. You said you couldn't kill him, but why? Why couldn't you do it? That gave him hope. Your hesitance gave him the hope he had desperately prayed for, the hope that you still had some feelings for him despite everything.

“...Why not? Why can't you kill me?”

“Don't test your luck, Harbinger of Snezhnaya.”

Your voice came out in a harsh, yet firm command, your eyes showing a flicker of anger. Your emotions were all swirled up together, and you were unable to discern between how you truly felt.

Dottore chuckled faintly, a weak grin on his face. He knew you were close to snapping, but he had to try. He had to see how much he could push you before you broke before him, and he had to do everything he could just for a chance.

“Test my luck? No need. I already know you still care for me.” His voice was firm as he took another step forward to him, your shoes touching.

You took a step backwards, your breath hitching as you clutched onto your sword.

“Stop it.”

“Why should I? After all, you're hesitating to kill me. You care, don't you? I know you still care, Y/N.”

He watched as your eyes twitched slightly, as if you were in an inner state of turmoil. He knew you, he knew you were torn between your duty to eliminate him as his enemy and your lingering feelings for him. He knew he should stop… but he couldn't.

He walked closer towards you, his gaze firm as he locked eyes with you. “You're frustrated, aren't you? You want to fulfil your duty and hurt me… but you can't bring yourself to do it, can you?”

You gritted your teeth, taking more steps backwards. Dottore could hear the soft scraping of metal from your blade as you dragged it against the floor, your eyes staring back at him with a sharp, intimidating glare.

“What's wrong?” He taunted. “Why are you backing away from me?”

Finally, you felt your self-control snap. Every vulnerable emotion you had pent up inside of you completely dried up, leaving only anger and resentment.

You drew your blade to his throat, your stance firm. Your eyes were cold and devoid, as if you were a completely different person.

“Stop it, Harbinger of Snezhnaya.”

Dottore let out a soft exhale, his eyes widening slightly as he felt the cold tip of your blade prodding at his throat, a reminder of the situation and predicament you both were in. The deadly look in your eyes caused him to wince slightly, dreading how different you became after everything. You radiated a dangerous aura, absolutely merciless and angry.

“...And what if I don't?”

He felt the tremor of the blade on his neck, a clear sign of your uncertainty. He knew he was walking on thin ice, but he knew he was close. Just a little bit more…

“I could end your very life right now, Dottore.”

Your words were firm and sharp, like a cold blade close to piercing him. You felt a bitter taste in your mouth every time you spoke his Harbinger name, a constant reminder that he wasn't the same person he used to be. He wasn't the naive scholar of the Akademiya, but the merciless, cold-hearted Second Fatui Harbinger, although he seemed anything but that in that moment.

“Come on… Why are you hesitating?” Dottore continued to taunt you, trying to gauge a reaction out of you. “I'm your enemy. You're supposed to kill me.”

You clenched your jaw, pressing the tip of the blade further onto his throat. You watched as tiny beads of red liquid trickled down his neck, his shirt stained with his own blood.

He hissed sharply as he felt the cold edge of the blade press onto his skin. He knew that he was crossing the line, but he was too far gone now. All he could do now was gamble everything away. From now on, it was all or nothing.

“...Then why aren't you doing it?”

Deep inside, he was starting to wonder if you would go through with it. You had everything set up: the blade against his throat, him in a vulnerable state, and authority over him. But in his heart, he still had hope. Dottore still had hope in you, that you would spare him and slowly accept how things were.

His hope and happiness were ephemeral, shattering and crashing almost as fast as it was formed when you bit back a sharp cry and shut your eyes as you slashed your sword on his shoulder. You dropped the blade, hand trembling from the aftershock.

Dottore had expected this, but he didn't expect the sharp sting that suddenly flared in his shoulder, causing him to gasp in agony. He exhaled sharply, his anticipation replaced with a wave of pain and hurt.

He gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore the stinging pain in his shoulders, letting out a shaky chuckle. “There… You did it, Y/N. You've injured me… So why haven't you killed me yet?”

“God damn it, will you stop?!”

Your sudden scream was sharp and piercing, catching Dottore off guard with your outburst. You clenched your jaw in anger, trying to maintain your composure. You kicked your sword that you had dropped away.

You exhaled sharply as you turned around. You slowly walked away from him, before turning back to face him once more.

“...Don't make me regret killing you… when I had the chance.”

Your words and tone were bitter and harsh, filled with resentment and apathy. You looked at him for the very last time, looked at the ghost of a man you once loved, and looked at ‘Zandik’ for the very last time before walking away. You held your breath, trying to bite back the tears that were desperately threatening to spill.

Dottore was shocked by your sudden words, taken aback by your bitter and harsh tone. He watched as you turned away, walking further away from him. Each step you took felt like a stab through his heart, bleeding with his agony and despair. The sight of you walking away hurt more than the deep scar you left on his shoulder.

He wanted to call you back, to stop you from leaving, but he knew any attempts would be futile. He tried to obviate the need to call out to you, to reach out and stop you from leaving, but his heart swelled with sorrow and regret. Instead, he stood there, watching you walk further and further away, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness and hopelessness.

He felt like his heart was being torn apart, ripped and shredded into pieces. He could see in your eyes that you still cared for him, even if it was just a little. He was thankful, truly thankful, that you had spared his life… but he knew that this decision of yours would forever haunt him until the days of his passing.

He struggled to keep his emotions buried away, to hide them away. But seeing you walk away like that… he felt a drop of water drip down his chin, followed by another. Soon enough, an incessant stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks, dampening his shirt. He felt his shirt being ensanguined with his own blood, the wound caused by your blade crying out with tears of blood.

With that, all his defences slipped away as he dropped to his knees, his vision blurred and his eyes watery. It was absolutely agonising, almost soul-crushing, to accept that you had walked away and left him for good. Dottore felt his body and soul overwhelmed with the feeling of helplessness and sadness, almost unbearable. He had lost you, his everything, and he had no one to blame for it… but himself.

He sat on the ground, his body shaking with silent sobs as he allowed himself to break down and lose himself in agony and despair. He had never felt this way before, completely alone and utterly heartbroken… it was killing him inside. He had lost you, the only person he genuinely cared about, the very person he had been trying to keep himself alive for, the only person… he truly loved.

Amid his breakdown, he happened to catch a glimpse of a silver-blue object on the ground, lying just a few meters away from a shiny metal on the ground, presumably your blade that you had discarded. Clearing his blurry vision, he gazed at the object, and his heart broke and shattered further.

It was the preserved Kalpalata Lotus he had gifted you.

Dottore froze, his eyes widening in disbelief as he saw the Kalpalata Lotus lying on the ground near your discarded sword. He felt another wave of overwhelming pain and heartbreak wash over him, his heart clenching further at the sight of the flower. It was a painful and gut-wrenching reminder that he had truly lost you.

He crawled on the ground, picking up the flower in his trembling hands, holding it delicately as if it was something precious and fragile — which it was. Dottore slowly lifted the flower to eye level, studying it as if he were trying to ingrain it into his memory. He noted the smallest, little details about the flower — the blue petals, the silver veins and its delicate shape. It was all too familiar, all too painful, all too much.

A fresh wave of tears spilt down his cheeks as he held onto the flower like it was his lifeline, the only thing anchoring him from this pain, the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.

Dottore clutched onto the flower in his hand, the memories of you flooding his mind like a violent stream, each one more painful than the last. The thought of never seeing you again, never talking to you again, never holding you again… it was too much for him to bear.

Dottore knew that he was destined to fall like this. He wasn't the strong, cold-hearted, and merciless Second Fatui Harbinger right now. Instead, he was the young, naive scholar from the Akademiya again. The man you used to love… the person you loved with your whole heart and soul. Right now, he was Zandik, not Il Dottore. In this moment, he was the heartbroken, young boy who had experienced the pain of losing the very person he loved all over again, just like four hundred years ago.

— masterlist ・ navi ・ request rules

[o-sachi]

You're My Sunshine - Various Blue Lock

ᯓ blue lock characters with a cheerful and upbeat s/o ᯓ characters; various blue lock chars. ᯓ tags; fluff, sfw, gn reader, no y/n

[🐟]: Trying out a different format for HCs 'cuz I feel like this works better for this request.

Sunshine x Sunshine

This is perhaps the healthiest of healthy relationships. Being around each other simply feels light and easy because they understand each other by heart. Both of you have a positive outlook on life, wanting to pursue happiness together every step of the way. Most likely, this relationship was a result of a strong foundation of friendship.

You two are always playful with each other, finding ways to keep the spark alive by being spontaneous and adventurous with your relationship. You like randomly bursting into a duet in the middle of cooking dinner or going on picnic dates on a weekend afternoon.

There's a good line of communication between the two of you that keeps the relationship afloat at all times. Although, between important conversations would be a lot of laughter, inside-jokes, and flirty banter. There's never a dull moment between the two of you; that's for sure. And warning: HE WILL TEASE YOU A LOT.

He thinks you're the brightest and most beautiful thing in this world. He'll make sure that you never forget he thinks so. And he will compliment you like craaaazy. He's so downbad for you (wholesome-ly).

Affection—both verbally and physically—are expressed freely and frequently. Neither of you feel the need to hold back on it. You always make it your goal to express your appreciation for each other as you continue to support and push each other forward. It's pretty much a relationship that cultivates growth while being genuinely happy. The type of relationship everyone dreams of, basically.

Isagi, Bachira, Ness, Hiori, Niko, Kurona, Nanase, Charles, Lavinho

Sunshine x Sunshine Protector

Not exactly an opposites attract situation... most of the time at least. But it's more so that he likes to take on the duty to protect you and uphold your well-being at all times. He just thinks you're so precious—vulnerable to the cruelty of the world—and would gladly carry the burden of protecting you from all of that on his back.

It's a bit of mystery to you how he can be closed off to the world but so tender and loving with you. But, hey, why are you going to complain about that? Besides, if you do ask him, he'll just grunt at you and ignore it. Deep down he's having a crisis about it though. The tough guy facade is well-practiced after all.

He isn't the best with words, but he makes up for it through other ways—touch, quality time, acts of services, and so on. He'll gladly sacrifice himself if it meant making you happy. He's so deep down the rabbit hole (which is you), but will never admit it... unless you beg him nicely.

Although, he does offer words of reassurance. They come off as rather... stiff. Their words lack a bit of warmth, but they serve to provide you comfort either way. It's mostly because it sounds like advice—practical words. But sometimes all you need are sweet words to get rid of the fleeting worry. Don't fret; they'll get better somehow.

But there will be the rare times when you give him support and reassurance. Of course, he won't say so—you'll just notice it after being with him for so long. He'll be a bit averted to the idea at first, but will warm up to it soon enough. The strength of your relationship lies in this mutual respect and desire to uplift each other especially in each other's lowest moments.

Kunigami, Barou, Karasu, Kaiser, Gagamaru, Raichi, Sendou, Snuffy

Sunshine x Grumpy

This was one hell of a slow-burn. But was it worth it? Hell yeah. Your dynamic is almost the same as sunshine x sunshine protector, but he's a lot more subtle with his "protecting" and best belief he will deny all softie allegations because of it.

But that's exactly what he is—a big softie for you and for you only. But since he's emotionally constipated, he shows his love in... strange ways, but he swears it's normal. He'll act like he doesn't care most of the time, but he'll always have his eye on you. He'll always reject your silly requests, but will humor you eventually when you start showing those puppy dog eyes (his weakness).

THERE WILL BE TONS OF BANTER. But it will mostly be you laughing and him groaning. You like to tease him a lot, causing him to reward you with the nickname "brat". He says so affectionately, of course. Sometimes he'll even tease you back just to shut you up. It works like magic by the way.

One thing he hates the most is to see you cry and he hates it even more if he was the reason for those tears. As much as you don't want to fall apart in front of him—there are rare moments when his callousness gets to you. Suddenly, he no longer cares about keeping up his icy exterior; he'd drop it all for you. He'll scoop you up in his arms and tell you the sweetest things he had never uttered before in his life.

He sincerely thinks you're the best thing in his life. Even though he's so cold and detached, you managed to melt away some of that ice. You balance each other well and that's what keeps the relationship going.

Rin, Sae, Noel

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[cxlamarisalxmi]

Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom [2]

[Platonic One-Shot]

c/w: fighting, depictions of violence and gore, angst, female pronouns (she/her), feminine gendered terms used to describe reader, Venom is a big softie, only for you though 🤭

a/n: this is marked as part two because the first one shot was the first part, the drabble was more of an introduction to the idea 😭 I understand there might be some confusion about how these parts are set up but yeah the drabble was intended to introduce the idea more than it was meant to be an actual part of the series— like an extended epigraph… sort of

—

It was raining the day your father had decided to return to your dimension— the dark and gloomy rain clouds above thick and heavy as they devoured the sky.

With them they brought raindrops thick and heavy in density that were spat out in a torrential downpour. Falling in copious and rapid quantities.

You had been sitting perched on the corner of a building’s roof, observant and watchful as you patrolled the streets from your perch.

The darkness that had followed the overcast night sky left the street lamps and starkly bright city lights bright and prominent in their glow. And your sensitive and finely tuned auditory perception picked up on the sounds of tires driving through rainwater on the pavement. The sound of particularly nocturnal people walking, bustling and moving about— the way their shoe soles stepped on the soaked through concrete of the sidewalk, some splashing as they came across puddles in the divets of the ground.

Everything that involved your senses and being aware of the world around you sharpened dramatically, now keen on focusing on the world around you. Listening starkly for any kind of traumatic event occurring.

“I like the rain.”

“Me too.”

“The atmosphere is relaxing. We feel at peace.”

You couldn’t help but agree, the weather more than accommodating in the sense your mood had improved drastically.

It had been two weeks since your father had made his appearance, and since then you had been tightly wound and more than a little hurt at his abrupt intrusion. Even more hurt at the way he had just left without so much as an ounce of effort in trying to get you to talk to him.

He had called your name, and he did speak to you— that was something you could acknowledge, but the fact he hadn’t bothered trying beyond that spoke a lot about what your relationship had come to. What it still was.

He didn’t care about you, he never had and the encounter from a little less than half a month ago gave you the impression that he never would.

A small part of you could admit that you had hoped maybe he would come after you, chase you down, take you into his arms and hold you tenderly. Lovingly.

An even larger part overwhelmed that feeling with a cold and bitter indifference that made you more angry than sad. Sparked to life when he left you behind in a home you didn’t know, with people you didn’t trust— and festered to much more significant levels as the years continued to pass with not a single word from him.

You shouldn’t have expected him to make an effort to fix your relationship, and you hated that you were so bothered that he hadn’t tried at all. You should’ve known that he hadn’t ever intended to be involved with you at all. And you should’ve just accepted that your relationship was beyond fixing— and there was no point in trying to repair something that had died a long time ago. Irreparable— damaged and broken.

And whilst anger and hate had spread and taken over most of your heart and soul, there was still a small part inside that was more hurt than anything.

That small child inside that had depended on her father more than ever in the wake of her mother’s death. A little girl that had quickly learned he wasn’t dependable, she couldn’t count on him at all. And she was quick to learn that there wasn’t anyone who had her back, was on her side. It developed into her trusting absolutely no one— “the only one I can really trust.. is me.”

“[Y/Name]? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured quiet and tame as you continued to watch over the city. The darkness and ache that had consumed your heart so very deeply at the remembrance of your father had dissipated when your friend had spoken to you. “I’m fine V.”

“Was it about him?”

You didn’t respond and they had expected that you wouldn’t, and didn’t say much after that. And you appreciated their understanding that you didn’t want to talk about them.

There was a moment of tranquility, peace in the loud bustle of your city as the rain continued to fall. But then your senses tingled as the familiar sound of a portal spinning open erupted behind you. There wasn’t a moment of stillness that you allowed before you were spitting webs at the wall behind the portal.

Miguel walked through the portal a moment later, it closed a second after and then you were launching yourself at him.

He may have not had the tingle at the expense he wasn’t even really changed like you had been. He hadn’t been bitten but had his genetic code changed, and his abilities came from a vial of liquid he injected directly into his bloodstream to keep his powers sharp and potent.

So, whilst he didn’t have the spider senses that tingled anytime danger was nearby, his natural instincts had been sharpened finely. Thus, he was able to bring up his arms as you drop kicked him into the wall you had slung your webs at.

Even though he was blocking his face protectively you had put enough strength behind the kick to hurt him, and he grunted as your kick connected sending him flying back.

[Y/Name] jumped to meet him against the brick wall and grabbed him by the throat, tightening her clawed fingers around his neck before she was pulling him from the wall and throwing him off the building to the street below.

The previous feeling of peace and content that had warmed her chest and blood had diminished, and was now replaced with thorough rage. Hot and ferocious.

[Y/Name] had sworn to Venom that she absolutely would resort to murder if her father ever returned to her universe, and here he was. So the alien didn’t falter nor make an effort to halt the anger that was slowly but surely filling his host’s body.

Another portal opened up behind her and she felt an itch of annoyance as she felt the familiar presence that made her senses tingle. Jessica Drew.

A snarl tugged at her features as she curled her lip and looked over her shoulder, a ferocious glare fierce and angry in her bright eyes.

“Venom.”

“Of course.”

Jessica stared as a thick, black matter pooled from her back and slid across her lean and muscular frame. The alien-like viscous oil gliding across every plane of her frame, concealing her entire white and blue suit in a tightened black version of it instead.

“[Y/Name],” Jessica began soft and quiet— an attempt to somehow quell the furious fire of rage she could feel hot and angry from where she stood several feet behind the young teenager. “I know what you must be feeling—”

“You don’t know shit.”

“You want to kill him. And I can’t let you do tha—”

Her sentence was cut short when she was suddenly thrown backwards, her senses had tingled but not nearly quick enough. And she had been sent backwards to the brick wall in consequence, she gaped at the O’hara stood in front of her on the edge of the roof.

She had turned to face Jessica with her back, and the blackened webbing surrounding her body seemed to pulse and tightened around her body. Every time she squirmed attempting to loosen them, cut them or escape they would just tighten. She resorted to calling out to [Y/Name] instead—

“Spider-Woman doesn’t kill people!”

[Y/Name] willed her mask to peel away, the small and thin tendrils crawling up her neck and hugging her forehead only made the harsh glare she threw at Jessica over her shoulder much darker. The snarl she gave baring abnormally sharp canines seemed to make her even more intimidating— it made Jessica uncomfortable how a simple look made a chill rake down her back.

“You’re right. But we do.”

And she shivered again at the alien voice that rumbled from the young adult’s chest. The words she spoke only succeeding in making her all the more uncomfortable and frightened. The tone she spoke in was deep and ferociously monstrous. And Jessica stared as the O’hara glared back for a single second before she jumped disappearing over the side of the roof.

[Y/Name] landed on the sidewalk paved along the side of the asphalt road, she jumped forward flipping out of the way as her father shot a web at the spot she occupied previously.

But he had jumped to meet her midair and they grappled as they fell back to the road, she managed to wrangle a hold on the back of his suit and brought forth Venom’s strength to throw him down the road before landing on it herself.

Miguel’s sharpened instincts flared aggressively as his young daughter launched a car at him. He spun around extending his arm forward simultaneously— the long and sharp blade on his forearm cutting the car cleanly in half. But she had been there to surprise him, lunging forward after she had thrown the car knowing he’d cut it in half opening up an ambush as she erupted in between each piece of the vehicle.

He gasped silently in shock at her appearance through the split and grunted when her punch connected to his face. Enough strength from her abilities coupled with Venom to send him flying back. And he flipped midair to land on his feet several feet down the street, he dug the blades on his forearms into the pavement to halt his movement as he looked up.

“I suffered! Alone! For twenty years, because of your cowardice!” [Y/Name] shouted as she stormed down the street, the mask Venom provided peeling back to reveal a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back and baring abnormally sharper canines.

“Protecting the security of the multiverse is not cowardly!”

“You knew invading another universe at the expense of your variant’s death was wrong! You knew your presence could collapse the very fabrics of a dimension! You always knew!” She roared in exclamation to his rather weak defense, having stopped just a few feet in front of him to properly put her feelings forward. Give him everything she had bottled up inside that had erupted suddenly since his abrupt appearance in her dimension two weeks ago.

Miguel just stood there, he swallowed thickly at her statement as he held eye contact with her. There wasn’t any indication he was intimidated by her on his face, his expression blank and guarded with slanted brows and narrowed eyes. But internally he was dreading the fight that would no doubt occur, she was anomoly after all.

“But— when she told you she was pregnant, when she told you she was excited to start your family.. what did you do? What did you do? You. Ran!”

“She was never meant to bear children! Never meant to give birth to you— that was not my fault!”

The audacity he had to ruin her life and not even acknowledge it only made [Y/Name] all the more furious, her blood boiling beneath her skin as she tightened her vicious snarl. “Not your fault?!”

[Y/Name] advanced forward, she reached to her left— her muscular forearm flexing beneath the deep black Venom suit as she gripped the side of another car and effortlessly lifted it throwing it at him.

He jumped to the side to dodge but she was there to meet him once again, having leapt from her spot on the street to put her knee in his face. He couldn’t bring his arms up quick enough to block it this time, and she forced him backwards when she utilized Venom’s alien strength to really hurt him.

Miguel grunted as her strike connected and he was thrown into the side of the building off to the side. She followed right behind him tearing her arm back and throwing it forward the second she was close enough. The hit had enough power and strength in it to send him right through the brick wall and into the empty warehouse within.

[Y/Name] landed several feet away from the form of her father on the ground, he was slow to get back to his feet but once he had he turned to face her. And she could tear his throat out at the scowl carved into his features, the conversation that followed only making her all the more infuriated.

“I’m not here for any other reason than to capture the anomaly in your dimension.” He says, a still blank and guarded look on his face. One that his young daughter matched only to a degree that looked more like she was enraged rather than unbothered.

“There’s no anomaly here, Venom and I would’ve picked up it’s unnatural scent immediately.” She reasoned.

“You wouldn’t know of it’s presence. Because it’s you.”

“What?”

“You are an anomaly, you were never meant to be born.. never meant to be bitten… never meant to host Venom. You don’t belong. You need to be contained.”

[Y/Name] froze, Venom inside stilling too as he and herself processed the words that had just fell from her father’s mouth. All was quiet for but a moment—

“You…”

Miguel watched as a dark look overtook her features, from enraged previously to downright hostile as her eyes darkened to an unseen degree. He felt a shiver of fear and intimidation shuck down his back in a brief burst.

“You bastard.”

The snarled words growled from her throat sent another ripple down his spine. And he swallowed thickly as the deep black viscous matter of Venom returned, and then she bore the same appearance as before.

The same lean and muscular frame but now entirely black with a white spider insignia, her mask’s eyes now more monstrous-like as opposed to the regular diamond shape as most spider people.

“Fine.”

[Y/Name] Venom snarled ferociously, Miguel watched as the alien bulked up his daughter. Not so much so that it wasn’t proportionate but enough to have him breathe out a brief exhale of uncertainty and anxiety.

His daughter had become powerful in his absence, and he had caused the black hatred to plague her heart. The fact she only looked at him with hate and a fiery light of murder and bloodthirsty rage was his fault and his fault alone. He had no one to blame but himself.

So, he really had no one to blame for this fight that would occur one way or another. He wasn’t sure he could beat her, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of anxiousness brew to life in his stomach. His heartbeat slightly erratic at the new feeling of diminished confidence in his chest.

He knew this would be hard, he knew he was walking into this fight with a significant power difference, and he knew for damn sure he wasn’t certain he’d keep his head. And Miguel had no one to blame for it—

But himself.

—

a/n: started writing out requests so expect to see those soon but don’t get too excited as I can’t promise when exactly they’ll be finished and posted, my classes are kicking my ass and my job fucking sucks so.. bear with me please and I hope you enjoyed!

—

Taglist: @violilaqrs @christinesdemoness1958 @erensbbg @nickey-diano @gamersansblog @ayyybee @raweggeater @shrekstoesblog @azzy-ozborn @nda-approval @9kaaulitz @jazjelspen @myconglomerateromance @sweetheartlizzie07 @nyx-does-stuff @krazy-kattzz @sparklyphantom @loser-alert @bath1lda

Sorry if I missed you on the taglist!

[novemberheart]

Thank you for the support on the last post! Here’s Chapter two!

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

{overview} It’s move in day!

{Warnings} Female reader, poly relationship (the gay kind), light pricexghost and Gaz/Soap banter, Ghost already being a bit of a softie

The aggressive grind of the bandsaw covered the sound of approaching footsteps. Yet the tingle behind Simon’s neck was all he needed to know someone was there. He removed his foot from the pedal, shutting the machine off. He slid his safety glasses up to his head as the work shed door clanked open. He needed to grease the hinges.

“How’d it go?” He asked, leaning his back against the worktop. John shrugged, a pleased expression on his face.

“Good.” Price responded, leaning back across from him. “She seems like a good girl. It’ll only be for about a month anyway. And you know how it is, one- if not all of us will get shipped off sometime.” He sighed rubbing a hand over his face. Simon clicked his tongue in agreement.

“The boys like her?”

“I hear wedding bells.” John teased, causing both men to chuckle. “They like her.” He affirmed. “Would’ve been nice if you’d join us.” He continued slowly. John extended his leg so it pressed against Simon’s. A small action to show he meant to harm. Simon pressed further into Price, clearing his throat softly.

“Wouldn’t have mattered. Johnny already seemed hell bent on helpin’ her out, and you know if Johnnys thinkin’ it, Kyle is too.” Simon suddenly stood straight up, bending forward so his palms rested right next to John. “And you can never say ‘no’ to them.” He murmured, his cheek brushing against John’s.

Price let out a strangled gasp-laugh of sorts, his hand flattening against Simon’s chest pushing him away. “I can’t say ‘no’ to them?” He accused. “Tell me, what have you been up to in here?”

“Making another planter box for Kyle.” Simon responded quickly, a playful spark lighting up his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I thought there was four of them?” You questioned absentmindedly, adjusting yourself so you sat on your knees. Today was move in day and Kate was helping you pack what little belongings you had. She paused, all her attention on the task at hand- folding one of your t-shirts. She has always been a perfectionist.

“Yeah there is. You haven't met Simon yet. He’s a good guy, just a bit”- she trailed off, refolding another one of your items.

“Shy?” You leant.

“Sure we’ll go with that.” She sighed.

“I thought he was the mean one.” Kate’s wife, Robin interjected from over the phone. Your eyes widened and you turned over your shoulder to look at Kate.

“No I didn’t mean that- I hadn’t even met him when I heard that. He’s not mean, I just didn’t have a word for it at the time.”

“Do you have a word for it now?” You pressed. Robin giggled from over the phone. Kate opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“No- but he’s not as mysterious and complex as he likes to think.” Kate confessed. “My advice would just be to steer clear of him, you’ll only be there for a month anyways.”

“You’re making him sound scary.” Robin whispered harshly. You nodded your head in agreement.

“He won’t do anything to you.” Kate said firmly. There were times when you forgot what Kate did for a living. You forgot the emotional and physical turmoil she goes through on a day to day basis. She was protecting Simon. Her tone shooing off any idea that he was a bad man. You wondered what it would be like to have that type of bond with someone. A bond that is forged out of otherworldly trauma. Yet, you should be grateful you don’t have a tie like that. ‘Well there’s always tomorrow’ you thought to yourself. You shook that idea away. “We should get going. Love you, Honey.” Kate held the phone up to her chin, making a kiss noise into the speaker. Robin blew a raspberry.

“Bye Aunt Ro!” You shouted.

“Bye, lovie! And good luck!”

All in all you had three boxes. You never bothered to put any money into your place, knowing the likely consequences. When you and Kate pulled up to the house, John and Jonny were waiting for you.

“That’s it?” John asked, already opening the car door.

“Yeah. You don’t have to do that. That one’s heavy”- You stopped yourself as he picked up the box with one arm supporting it.

“Nonesense bon. Can’t have the neighbors thinking we aren’t gentlemen.” Johnny grinned also lifting a box like it was full of helium.

“Thank you.” You spoke sincerely. They nodded practically jogging back to the house.

“Don’t bother with things like that. They are pains in the butt- all of them, but they do get a weird satisfaction out of lifting heavy things. And opening jars.” Kate snickered. “Help me with this one?” You and Kate made it to the porch by the time Johnny came bounding back.

“The neighbors!” He scolded. “Let me help you with that box!” He yelled, taking a quick look around like the neighbors would be judging him from their windows. You and Kate both laughed and his face beamed. “You’ve got a pretty smile, bon.” Johnny blurted.

“You too.” It came out before you could stop it. It was the truth- one that you wished you hadn’t admitted. The last thing you needed was a flirting match on your first day. He said nothing, but Kate rolled her eyes at the noticeable pep in his step.

“Here’s this.” She handed you a key card to get into the housing area. “I transferred it to your name, but it’s old and the only one I could find so it might take a few times before it opens the gate. You’ll have access to the pool, gym and the clubhouse area. John said you can borrow one of their keys for the time being.” She gave you a soft smile, before wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulders.

It suddenly dawned on you this was goodbye. She was heading back home and you were going to be here, by yourself. You winced and held her just as tight. “Be a good girl.” She whispered. You nodded your head, thanking her heavily.

“Bye boys!” She yelled through the doorway.

“You’re not staying.” Kyle spoke peering his head from around the corner. It was like the same realization dawned on them. No more Laswell= no more buffer. She shook her head, heading down the porch. You watched her as she hopped into the drivers seat. Her movements were eager. You couldn’t blame her. She missed Robin desperately.

“Everything okay?” You jumped at Kyle’s voice, but quickly threw on a smile. You couldn’t not seem grateful.

“Yeah, just going to be weird not seeing her all the time.” You took a few cautious steps into the house. Even though it would be “yours” for the next month it still felt wrong entering without a direct invitation. Kyle nodded his head in understanding.

“Ready for the rest of the tour?” He smiled, wiggling a brow at you.

Next to the dining room was a bathroom. Next to the bathroom, close to the entryway was a downstairs office, which you were politely asked not to enter. You are more than willing to comply. Past the bathroom and dinning room was the mudroom and back door. These men were active and there was evidence of almost every hobby you could think of. The backyard was breathtaking. Plush outdoor seating (handmade from wood thank you Simon), a fire pit, barbecue, another wood table with chairs for outdoor dinning and last but not least a picture perfect garden. You just wanted to sprawl out in the grass and soak up the sun. You’re sure they would let you. In the far right hand corner there was a medium sized shed, painted black. “That’s Simon’s workshop.” Kyle had explained.

Up the stairs was another “office” type room. But this one was for play- not work. An air hockey table, a projector, the largest bean bags you’ve ever seen in your life, a wall with video games, movies and boardgames.

“Can this be my room?” You pleaded.

“You can come in there whenever you want.” Kyle promised. “Me and Johnny would enjoy the company.” Your stomach fluttered at smoothness of his voice. You wished you could record it for nights you had trouble sleeping. Next to the game room was another bathroom- this time a full one with a nicely sized tub and shower combo. “This’ll be your bathroom.”

It was as carefully decorated as the rest of the house. “You’ll share it with me and Johnny. Don’t worry he’s house trained.”

“Over here is your room.” Kyle presented. “It’s the plainest room in the house, but we rarely have people over.”

It was plain, but there was still a warmth to it. The thing that caught your eyes first was the large window overlooking into your surrounding neighbors backyard. Good thing you love to people watch. Your bed was in the center of the room with a plush white comforter and equally sinkable pillows. The closet was across from the bed with a sliding door. Your boxes were placed neatly in front of the window. “Oh and.” Kyle began. He took a few steps into your room, signaling for you to follow. He shut the door, leaving the two of you alone in your new bedroom.

“Simon installed this. We told him about the break ins- hope that was okay and he took it upon himself to install this bad boy, so you’d feel more comfortable.”

It was a swing lock, one that could only be opened from the inside. A soft gasp left your throat. “That’s so kind.” You whispered.

“Don’t make too big of a deal out of it.” It was a light warning. “He gets flustered easily.” You giggled, trying to suppress the tears building up in your eyes. You wanted to meet Simon now more than ever. Laswell was right- he wasn’t mean in the slightest. Next to your bedroom was another bedroom and across from it was the master bedroom.

“There’s only three rooms?” You hummed. “I’m not stealing someone room am I?” You doubted it with how unused your room look. Kyle shifted on his feet, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Laswell must’ve not given you ‘the talk’.

“Me and Johnny share that room.” Kyle said slowly. “Cap’ and Simon share that one.” He pointed towards the master bedroom.

“Oh!” You chirped. He could tell by your face you still didn’t catch on to what he was hinting at. In your mind they were all so close anyways, why wouldn’t they share a room? He sighed, but felt like it might be better for you to catch on naturally than for him to make it sound like a big deal. I mean it wasn’t like they were going to have an orgy in front of you.

“You hungry? It’s a nice day out. Cap’ usually throws something on the Barbecue.” Kyle offered already turning towards the stairs.

“That would be alright?” You questioned slowly. Kyle’s face softened.

“Course. Besides Johnny needs a new tennis partner.”

“What happened to the old one?”

“He’s a big ol’ cheater. No one wants to play him anymore.”

As promised John was just setting up his area and Johnny was bouncing a tennis ball against the side of the house.

“You play, bon?” It was a simple question, but it felt as if he was persuading you.

“I heard you cheat.” You felt as though you could be playful with him. His eyes scrunched in challenge.

“That’s what he’s been feedin’ you, hmm? Well bon, I have never cheated a day in my life. They just can’t wrap their heads around losing every time. It’s a coping mechanism.” He smirked. John shot a glare over his shoulder and Kyle shook his head quickly.

“Liar and a cheat.” Kyle yelped dodging a neon ball.

“I’ll go easy.” Johnny had turned his attention back to you.

Your hands twisted in your shirt. “Alright.” You sighed.

He did go easy on you. A part of you wondered if he was bored, the ball bouncing back and forth between the two of you at a snails pace. Yet every time you caught his gaze his face would express there was no where else he’d rather be. Well, you’re sure that wasn’t true. He was a people person. He made whoever he was interacting with feel like they were the only person in the world. Kyle had a similar effect. Though his was less assertive. With Johnny you would get attention, but with Kyle held back just enough to where you wanted it. Even now as your eyes carefully watched the ball they couldn’t help but drift over to him, sitting in the lawn chair keeping score.

You missed the ball.

“That was a record.” Kyle boasted, clapping his hands together. “15 passes in a row.”

“What’s the score though?” Johnny insisted.

“I don’t know, mate. 29 love.” Kyle shrugged. Johnny rolled his eyes.

“You won Johnny. Don’t worry.” You soothed.

“Didn’t make it easy, bon.”

He was competitive. You wondered how many fights had to be broken up in the game room.

“Foods just about ready, Johnny go get Simon.” You perked up in your chair.

“Yes sir, yes sir.” Johnny mocked stomped off, back into the house.

“You take cheese on your burger?” John asked. Your stomach had been growling for the past fifteen minutes. You quickly nodded. “We usually have chips but someone ate them as a midnight snack.” John chided placing a large plate of burgers in the center table.

“Simon too.” Kyle muttered, getting up heading back inside the house.

“How do you like your room, honey?” John asked, closing the grill top.

“I love it. It’s like a hotel.” You beamed. John’s lips quirked up into a smile.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Thank you again. You’re doing more than just giving me a place to stay.” You didn’t go into depth, but you could tell by the way his eyes softened that he knew what you meant.

The door slid open. Kyle came out with his arms full of condiments and two bags of potato chips or “crisps” as John called them. Johnny bounded out not soon after with a jug of soda and five cups balancing in his hand.

“Drink soda, Bon?”

“Umm not usually this late. I’m a wimp when it comes to caffeine.” You admitted.

“So what do you drink?” Johnny continued.

“Uh water.” You smiled sheepishly.

“That’s a new concept to him.” Kyle chuckled.

“I’ll go get it.” You took a glass and stood up. “Do you have any filtered? If not tap is fine.”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge.” John answered. You slid the door open once more heading past the mudroom and slightly down the hall to turn into the kitchen.

You nearly dropped your glass at the large figure leaning against the kitchen island. He wasn’t much bigger than the others, but he looked more out of place.

“Hello.” You greeted. “Simon?” You asked slowly. He was handsome. You wished this group would make a calendar. They’d be sold out in no time. He looked about the same age as John. He had a beard trimmed close to his face, leaving enough of his strong jaw on display. His nose was a bit crooked and bumpy- must come with the job. His hair was honey ginger and cropped. But the thing that caught your attention first, and held it, were his eyes. A deep chestnut color, with absolutely no emotion it made you shudder.

Your name left his lips in a gravel breath.

“Yes.” You responded in an instant. “Just came in to get some water.” You stammered. He fixed his posture so he wasn’t blocking the way to the fridge. You grabbed the pitcher, almost overflowing your cup from the speed of the water. “Thank you for my lock.” You blurted. You peaked at him from over your shoulder. Turning your body to face his felt like too much of a commitment.

“Welcome.” He replied bluntly. “Sorry that happened to you.” He added. He cleared his throat, not turning back as he headed to the backyard.

So far, so good.

Hope you liked this next chapter. I personally believe that Ghost would not wear his mask in his home- or anywhere other than on the field or when he is physically on base. A man walking around town with a skull mask is much more likely to drawn attention- which is the last thing he wants. I also believe that Simon is a ginger 🙊🧡 based off of his two seconds without his mask on. Anywayysss This description isn’t set in stone and you are always welcome to think your own thoughts 🥰

See you next time!

[nemisuki]

Love the Chef

Crush AU | A short oneshot of the blonde trying to assassinate her through his cooking skills. And it somehow leading to a massive realization - thank god for noodles, laughs and sparks of love?

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, no manga spoilers, pure fluff, open ending, aged up to third years, realization moment, reader down bad fr, bkg a softie, silly moments, short oneshot, kdrama coded, mainly reader POV, 850 word count 

“Agh- how could you eat stuff like this?!”

She flinches as the spicy noodles hit the surface of her tongue. The seasoned aroma entering her lungs and creeping its way up.

Causing her eyes to water the more she chews yet this is only her third spoonful.

Y/N wanted to prove him wrong for once.

That she could handle the spice.

But her taste buds went against her wishes.

Immediately understanding she overestimated her own limits - she quickly taps out and pushes the bowl of noodles across the table.

Not wanting to be near that monstrosity he cooked up in the kitchen. He must be psychotic to eat such things, that dish could kill!

“Okay okay you win!” she says, practically sweating as her body begins reacting to the poison known as Bakugos noodles.

Who the hell could eat such spice and not react?!

Accepting her loss, she grabs the glass of milk that the blonde poured out for her earlier.

As if he knew she would lose.

Chugging the cold liquid with urgency, letting it sit in her mouth as a makeshift antidote for the stinging pain on her tongue.

If things couldn’t get worse, it somehow does, as she feels her nose grow runny.

The combination of the spice and her tears - leads to this tragedy of a look on her.

A disappointed pout on her face as she holds the glass that’s now half full.

She doesn’t dare look in his direction.

Not wanting to see the look of triumph on his face, that smug grin that annoys her to bits.

That is until she hears laughter.

A sound so unfamiliar that she peeks in his direction.

She can see the way he holds his stomach - his eyes squinting with delight.

Multiple chuckles exiting his mouth, finding the whole situation amusing.

In an instant, warmth completely overtakes her body.

And she doesn’t know if it’s from the spicy noodles or the sight of him.

She has never seen him laugh this hard till now and is frozen in place, not daring to look away from this bizarre turn of events.

“Hah! I told you idiot, as if you can beat me in a challenge of spice!”

He covers his mouth with his hand, stifling the laughs threatening to escape.

“Y-You look so stupid!” he looks away to not wheeze at the sight of her. The way simple noodles could have her on the verge of a breakdown was peak comedy to him.

She is unable to respond, her mind completely forgetting about the aches of pain on her tongue.

Her eyes fixated on the new sight before her - his enjoyment being the source of her fast heartbeat and heated face.

It was just the two of them in the dining hall of the UA dorms but that's all ruined as she hears the sound of the elevator doors open. Footsteps exiting as whoever it is, begins approaching the lobby.

Without much thinking, she grabs a plastic plate and shields the side profile of his face. Her body moving on pure instinct as if protecting something worth value.

She hides him from passersby who are too engrossed in their private conversations to notice the duo at the table.

And she feels an odd sense of relief.

“What the hell are you doing?” he mumbles, his brows furrowing with confusion, peeking over the plate to see their classmates leaving the building.

Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, he looks back at her with a calculating look. Expecting her to explain the odd reaction that came out of nowhere.

Wait what-

Realization dawns upon her and she can feel the rapid increase of suspense and her jitters.

Why did she do that?

Now embarrassed, she quickly lowers the plate, averting her gaze, “ah I just….”

Thoughts swirl around her mind for a moment but the conclusion remains the same.

She’s glad no one else saw his smile. For some reason, wanting to keep the sight to herself, to relish in this new experience.

Her eyes begin widening as she connects the dots.

Oh.

“Oi you good nerd?” he tilts his head, both eyeing her down and completely oblivious to her inner turmoil.

Her eyes land back on his face, the smile no longer present as he's back to his usual self.

At that moment... Y/N could only wish he’d start smiling again.

"I-I need to blow my nose!"

She practically jumps out of her seat, running to the kitchen, hands pressed against her face.

Heat radiating off her face so intensely that she wondered if she had caught a fever.

The only sensible answer to this whole thing was so simple but nonetheless sudden.

Feeling like a love struck fool, she leaves him ultimately dumbfounded.

Yet in his mind - he's already planning what to cook for her next, secretly enjoying the banter between them.

Assuming the reason for her unexplainable actions is simply from the food he prepared.

He stares at her from afar, the sight of her splashing cold water on her face, has him involuntarily forming a smile at her ridiculous actions.

"What an idiot."

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a/n ||| this small fic is inspired by a scene from the anime 'Sounds of Life' which I highly recommend. It's so underrated and I get sad everytime bc theres no S3! for u guys I included the exact scene below if ur curious (from s2 ep 2) and I love them so much omg. tags ||| @leleyro ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა