#wake up and smell the polyamory

[captainbfresh]

Can you believe that Eddie has a crush on Buck but Buck has a crush on Tommy but Tommy has a crush on Eddie what fresh hell is this

[ervotica]

hot rod — a.donaldson & p.zweig

pairings; art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x patrick zweig

summary; patrick comes to visit you and art at college. he finds college life is a lot more adventurous than once anticipated

warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, threesome, overstim, oral (m receiving), sub leaning!reader and art, more dom leaning!patrick, established throuple, polyamory

a/n; i’m not so sure how i feel about this tbh. i love the dynamic though so i pushed through even when it got away from me a little🥲 there will be another drabble for older!art and his pretty girl soon!!

you and art fuck until you’re brain dead and passed out from exhaustion. always have. neither of you possess an off switch, and when patrick’s not there to rein the pair of you in, things get a little… messy.

his cum is dried in your hair, the sticky substance smeared across your cheek, his knuckles still wet with slick.

patrick walks in, full belly laughs and peels you from art’s sweat soaked form, gives your cheek a pinch when you stir and whine.

he doesn’t clean you up because he likes to leave you naked whenever he has the opportunity — which is more often than not. seriously, you two need close supervision.

he just carries you with him to that shitty little armchair in art’s dorm, the room still stinking of sex and the humid summer air clinging to your skin; art shines with perspiration where he’s face down on the bed.

pat makes do with the lack of room, hooking a bare leg over the backs of your thighs until you’re squeezed snugly against his torso, face smushed to his chest. you’re snoring, and it makes patrick smile, slumping down in his chair to rest his lips against your cheekbone.

you wake slowly, eyes sticky and crusted over with exhaustion. your face is almost nestled beneath patrick’s armpit where you’ve been writhing in slumber and you grumble at the scent of sweat, layered with cheap aftershave. his hard-on presses to the center of your stomach and you can feel everything— the curve it makes now it’s hard and weeping, the feel of the spongy head, the vein that runs through the middle.

“you smell, pat,” you grumble, reaching up blindly to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth and take a long pull from the stick.

“yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, babe. the whole room reeks.” he reaches down to tug on a loose strand of hair at the crown of your head. “there’s cum in your hair.”

“not my fault.” you stretch upward like a cat, curling into patrick’s chest. “where’s art gone?”

“still sleeping, baby.” he lights another cigarette, sacrificing the first one to you - still resting between your lips - and the clicking of the lighter draws your head upward to gaze through heavy lashes at him.

“come to bed,” you murmur, kissing his knuckles. your free hand coasts a long line across his jaw and you dig your thumb beneath his ear, giggling when he scrunches his features and relents, and pushes you to stand with a swat to your naked backside.

art curls into you instinctively when you roll onto the mattress, your hand threading through the curls atop his head. you scrub sweeping circles across his bare back and he hums a pleased sound, smearing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. patrick splays himself over the pair of you, all long limbs that sit askew to cover as much of your naked frames as possible.

art squints through the yellow light that illuminates the room, bright and artificial on his sensitive eyes. your movements against him don’t halt, a slow, rhythmic, loving sweep of your hands that he’s come to look forward to in moments like this. his jaw tilts upward as he mouths at your neck like a starved man, like you haven’t just gone five rounds and collapsed from overstimulation.

“you two need supervision,” patrick snorts. you quirk a bemused brow. “i’m serious, look at what you’ve done to each other! you look like you’ve been mauled.”

“jealous, much?” art mumbles sleepily, the sound muffled through your skin. you’re laughing and it splits your expression in two, eyes crinkled with amusement as the strawberry blonde boy snipes at patrick.

“should’a come to college with us, pretty boy,” you giggle. “could’a had this twenty four seven.” you dip your head until your brow presses to art’s. “poor pat, with no one to stick his dick in. how will he ever cope?”

“you could help me out, sweets,” he deadpans, the nickname saccharine and sour on his tongue all at once. art watches you through heavy lids. you huff, biting playfully at art’s lip before you tilt your head to face patrick,

“okay,” you chirrup. art’s quick to sit up, separating from your warmth in favour of nuzzling against patrick. patrick tips his chin down, slanting his lips against the blonde boy’s.

meanwhile, you’re working his cock through his shorts, palming the muscle until it chubs up beneath your hand, drooling a wet patch through the fabric. patrick groans, hips rolling up into your touch when you hook your fingers beneath his waistband and tug his cock free.

he moans into art’s mouth and your mouth goes dry at the sight. you’ve always loved to watch them like this, the way they get lost in each other, the way they start fervently pushing into one another’s space until patrick inevitably makes the first move and sticks his tongue down art’s throat.

patrick turns to putty beneath art’s roaming touch, huge paws that squeeze and grope and push at every inch of skin they come into contact with, not stopping even as you press your face to the seam of patrick’s balls, inhaling the sweat-soaked musk that creeps up your nostrils.

art’s hand snakes downward, flicking over pert nipples and ridges of muscle before he’s flicking a thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. patrick’s back bows into an arch as you lave your tongue over his sack, humming into the sensitive skin, full and heavy and begging for release. his hips rock upward into you as you seal your lips over him, eyes heavy with lust as art comes down to meet your mouth over his mushroom head.

it’s filthy and messy, downright pornographic as art licks over patrick’s cock, tongue pressing flat against the corner of your mouth and letting his spit pool there. you’re moaning - unable to help yourself - pressing your face forward to slant your lips over art’s fully. it’s all spit and drool as you lick into art’s mouth, the heady taste of the brunette boy still on your tongue, and then patrick’s bracing a hand against each of your heads and easing his cock through the seam where your spit slick mouths mesh.

you gasp and your damp lashes flutter, heavy with tears, and art’s tugging you frantically by your waist, pressing your bare chest to his own as patrick throws his head back and groans, shallow thrusts deepening. his breath stutters out in short, sharp bursts, chest heaving when your face slides down, down, down, all the way to the base of him until your pretty plump lips are wrapped around his sack.

you suck it into your mouth just as art takes patrick down his throat, the head of his cock bulging through the hollow of art’s throat as spit stretches and bows from the corners of his lips and lands in globs across your face.

you’re too drunk on the pleasure to care, the vibrations of your little sounds shooting right through patrick until you feel his balls tighten; he groans, long and loud, pushing closer to the pair of you as his cock pulses rhythmically and he releases down art’s throat.

you push your way through until your mouth is on art’s again, tongue licking into his mouth to taste patrick, wanting to be marked, claimed by both of them. his lips part, nose pressing to your cheek, and then he’s lifting you into his lap, his cock an angry red and pressed to the seam of your thigh.

patrick groans. there’s no fucking way he’s hard again.

“no more, you horndogs!”

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the End - Post-Apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - The final obstacles.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, injuries, masturbation

Masterlist

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For the next two nights they dote on Gaz and Soap, the two most injured of their pack, despite their grumblings and huffs. Though Soap can’t hide his chuffs as well as Gaz can and he earns a cheeky wink from his fellow mask alpha. Of course sitting in enemy woods is less then ideal while getting cozy and romantic but that hardly stops Gaz from being sat in Price’s lap while he dotes on his fellow alpha.

“Price, really this isn’t necssary,” Gaz insists but Price shakes his head and pushes what’s left of his rations for the night to Gaz.

“Please Kyle?” He damn nears begs for his partnered alpha to take the last half of the portions.

“John-” Gaz sighs and gingerly takes the portions from Price. “You know you’re playing dirty with those puppy eyes,” he snips but Price smiles and gives Gaz a little nuzzle to which he chuckles from.

Soap meanwhile is completely passed out, leaning against Ghost with his head on his shoulder and his injured shoulder rebandaged and treated with some salve they had learned to make from a fellow group of survivors. Sometimes Gaz wonders if they made it or if they ended up zombie flesh. They were really kind people. The kind don’t often make it he thought blearily as his eyes began to droop before a familiar scent filled his nose.

He immediately perks up and sniffs the air a few more times before his head snaps to the north where the wind is blowing from. “Do you smell that John? Simon?” He asks and gets silent nods as Soap wakes from his slumber as well.

“Aye, I smell it too,” Johnny says and shares a look with Ghost. “We’re close.”

“That we are. What do you say men? Ready to get going tomorrow at sun rise?” Price asks and the three other men give their affirmations. “Tomorrow at sun rise it is.”

The sun rising the next morning never felt so refreshing. Gaz, though he hardly slept because he kept catching small whiffs of the scent on the wind just enough for him. Just for him, it felt like a sirens call. Come to me Kyle, the scent whispers and there’s an extra sweet tinge to it around the edges, that if Gaz is recalling correctly means one thing and one thing only.

Heat.

They traversed together, practically holding hands. Hell, Soap might’ve actually held hands with Ghost for a little while until Gaz started to look a little too closely. They were not going to be split up this time by different traps or scents. They followed Gaz who was the one who was leading them towards where their precious, if not sadistic, omega was. Several times they, mostly Soap, almost fell for another trap but was yanked back by a member of their pack.

They were silent otherwise, their boots crunching the snow beneath them and it made some of them wince. Well, it made Ghost wince as he thought about how important it might be to get the element of surprise on such a vicious omega. Ghost had never encountered an omega so vicious and territorial. Then again, he thought, I’ve never met an omega who’s been alone for years. Truly alone.

Ghost could vaguely recall how he had been once he had been picked up in Mexico after digging himself out of that grave. Violent, baring his teeth at anyone who came near and he had needed to be sedated by the end of it. An unpleasant experience overall. As they walk, he tries to relate that to the omega. Alone in the woods for years, maybe even years before the end of the world as they knew it. It had taken them a while to get this far up north after being stranded in the country side of France.

He did not want to think about that time.

Then as they pushed through a few bushes there it was. A log cabin, the chimney did not emit smoke. “Clever girl,” Price comments as he observes the state of the cabin. “Windows boarded up and I’m willing to bet there’s a bar or something preventing us from opening the door easily,” he says, mostly to himself before he turns to the rest of his pack.

You can hear them. Even though they tread quietly, underneath them you can hear every foot step after they finally opened the door. Certainly surprised to find it only locked. You wince as you think about having to replace that lock and venturing into town again. It’s such a long hike and you’ve been worn through the last few days.

The never ending anxiety and… well you’ve been trying to avoid the truth of it all. But it seems impossible at this point. And this on coming heat. The cotton stuffed into your nose only does so much and your inner omega whines and begs to take it out. To just breathe in their scents, that aroma that makes your head spin and heat go straight to your core.

Against your better judgement you do so. As if your hands aren’t your own, you take out the cotton stuffed up your nose and breathe in deeply. Their scents, this close, hits like a freight train. You cover your mouth right before a whine escapes and you rub your thighs together as an ache between them forms. You can’t possibily be quiet enough to eek another orgasm out, you’ve already had five in the last two hours. You keep waiting to hit a wall but it doesn’t come and the ache persists. Like an itch you cannot scratch yourself. Your omega purrs again at the thought of one of them. Or two. Hell maybe even three of them surviving the traps you have laid out for them in the cabin.

One last test, your omega purrs as you slide a hand between your legs as you lay in the nest you had built a day before. One last test and we can see who is fit to be our alpha. Or alphas.

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[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.

[jonivngel]

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧. (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞.)

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

part 1: sharing is caring; part 2: dinner; part 3: devotion.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

His other lover left a message for you, carved into the flesh of your beloved, love-bites on his neck and scratches on his chest and back...

"I want to meet him."

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,876

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 18+ ONLY, NSFW! CONTENT, MDNI, infidelity, unprotected sex, cucking (just a lil), polyamory, threesomes, weird pillow talk

a/n: part two is out! decided to write a part three soon upon the request of an anon.

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

He smells of cherry liquor when he returns home. He'd give the excuse he's meeting with his allies for staying out so late, plotting the downfall of Jujutsu Society and those damned higher-ups who cast him out as a child. But you know he only drinks whiskey and red wine, yet the bitter-sweet taste on his lips gets you drunk and you have no choice but to ignore the infidelity happening behind your back.

He'd call out his name when he's asleep. He dreamt of him so many times you'd lost count but stayed awake every night to see if something had changed- if he'd call out your name instead. Sometimes you'd wake him up, tell him he was yelling in his sleep and that it scared you. Then he'd kiss your forehead and apologize, pull you closer and hug you like you were the one he wanted to be with.

You'd find notes in his coat pockets, saying where and when to meet, it was as if he wasn't even trying to hide it. You knew, though, that this man your lover was seeing was a secret that could never come to light. You were the one by his side, you were the one everyone knew about. You held onto that belief like it was your lifeline, like it mattered at all when you knew your position was only temporary. A distraction from the cruel reality that Suguru couldn't be with him.

It turned you bitter. How sweet it must've been to meet each other against all odds, to still want to be close to one another after everything they've been through. To meet under the veil of secrecy, so intimate and heart-wrenching. You didn't want to share, yet it felt horrible to think about stepping in between them, knowing full well he wouldn't choose you in the end.

So you stay silent and taste the bitter taste of cherry liquor on his lips, smell the faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla in his hair. Your heart aches with the thought of sharing your beloved, the man you so deeply adored. Then again, it fuels a fire within you, something you've never felt before, and every night turns into a chance to prove your love for him. 

You surrender your body and your soul and he takes you for all you're worth, kissing you and loving you more and more passionately each time your bodies find themselves tangled in the cold darkness of your shared bedroom. You get addicted to the thought of him with his other lover, fully aware that, truthfully, you are the other. It gets you going and you become someone you don't recognize, you coax him into bed whenever you feel him straying. You make him feel so good he calls out your name in desperation, satiated and still craving more, you give, you give and you take from him.

You become malicious in the way you love him, taking control and denying him satisfaction, making him beg for it.

Until one night he comes home late, drunk and disheveled. You see the bites on his neck, the scratches on his back when he takes his shirt off and you feel rage boil in your blood. His other lover left a message for you, carved into the flesh of your beloved and your eyes tear up. How could he disrespect you so blatantly? You feel helpless and betrayed by a person you've never seen before, the one who took a part of your beloved already and was trying to take more.

“I want to meet him.”

You can tell you've just turned his world upside down with only one sentence because he freezes and then let's his hair down to cover the marks on his neck.

“Who?”

You're already naked in bed, waiting for him, but you stand up and walk over to stop him from putting on his T-shirt. You yank it from him and throw it on the ground, “He can't do this. I don't want to see it, Suguru.” You say with a wobbly voice, dragging your finger across the scratches on his chest.

He takes your wrist to stop you from touching him. “I don't know what you're talking about.” His eyes have turned cold and the emptiness in his voice makes your stomach turn with unease. 

“Suguru, I didn't say anything. I've let you be with him because I know there is no other way. But I don't want to have to see how he touched you and-” You feel sick to your stomach. “I want to meet him.”

His gaze softens and he hums, contemplating how to proceed. “How long have you known?”

You huff in frustration, not believing he thought you were that stupid when the signs were so obvious. He wasn't even trying to hide it and he had the gall to ask you how long you've known. “Since forever. That's why I believe I deserve to meet the man my lover is trying to hide from me.”

He chuckles, placing his hand on your bare back and tracing his fingers down your spine. “How do you think you two should meet?” He says and pulls you into him, fueling that fire in the pit of your stomach with every graze of his cold fingers against your burning skin.

You feel yourself mellowing out, “Dinner?” You whisper as he leads you to your bed, making you crash onto it as he sneaks between your legs and starts kissing your thighs. “I don't know what would be appropriate.”

He drags his tongue along your inner thigh and you squirm, feeling frustrated about the conversation at hand but not wanting to make him stop what he's doing at the same time. If you're being honest, it excites you to know it's your turn, that he wouldn't simply leave you hanging after having his fill of this elusive man you were talking about.

“Would you want me to bring him here?”

Your heart skips a beat because you know exactly what he's insinuating. “I-” Your words get stuck in your throat when he starts licking and sucking on your most sensitive place, but you manage to keep talking. “I d-don't know. I- Ah, fuck.” You grab his hair and grind against his tongue, hearing him chuckle at your desperation. 

He's greedy in the way he consumes you and his greed appears as generosity. He's doing this for his own satisfaction, because it fuels his pride to know you need him so bad you'd consider letting his other lover in just to keep him for yourself too. You love the way he loves you, though, you love that you can call him yours as well and that he wouldn't leave you, no matter how perverse the reasoning behind all of that is.

“Would you want to meet him at dinner, and then you can decide if we come back here?” He hovers over you, on his knees and completely naked now, rubbing himself between your folds before plunging in with a low groan of satisfaction.

You watch his head fall back and inspect the red marks on his chest and the love bites on his neck; you feel yourself tighten around him. When you think about it, there's something sexually devious about knowing someone else is just as depraved as you, who would surrender to sharing this man just to get a piece of him. And you understand that person, because this is Suguru and you could never give him up.

“Yes.” You whisper, “I want to know more about him, though. What is he like?”

He looks down at you as he spreads your legs and buries himself deep inside, “Right now?” His cheeks are tinted red, as if he feels embarrassed to tell you about the man he believed he was cheating on you with.

“You don't think I'd like him?”

He hums, “He's very high maintenence.” He says as he rocks his hips slowly into you and you whimper at the intoxicating friction. “He's very pretty and he knows it.” He twitches inside of you when you groan in response, satisfied with the way this is turning out. “He likes women, too, so that won't be a problem. You can have your fun with him, too.”

You feel yourself blush and cover your face, “You wouldn't mind?”

He chuckles, bending down to kiss your breasts and neck, “Why would I mind? I would love to see that. Two of my favorite people together… I don't know what I'd do…”

You whimper and drop your hands from your eyes to see he's smiling at you, mischief dancing around in his eyes. “Tell me more.”

He nods and picks up his pace, whispering in your ear as you feel yourself slowly unraveling under him. “He's needy. He likes begging me for more, just like you.” Suguru kisses your neck, goosebumps all over your body as you listen to him whisper perverse things about his other lover into your ear. “He always tastes sweet because he loves sugar more than anything.” He fucks you even faster and harder and holds your legs down so you can't close them as you scream his name. “He's the strongest sorcerer of today, but such a little pretty princess when he needs me.” He chuckles, “Is that enough for you?”

You shake your head, “More. Tell me about-” You scream out when he hits a spot inside of you that hurts and feels incredible at the same time. You're falling apart, feeling so dirty and so depraved while you listen to your sweet Suguru tell you about how nasty he'd been behind your back. It makes you feel new types of pleasure, something so deviant and sinful that it makes your legs quiver as Suguru fucks you feverishly into the mattress. You're jealous, but your curiosity overcomes it and you need to know every detail about this man and what he's been up to with your Suguru.

“You want to know about how I fuck him, hm, baby?” He whispers and you feel him twitch inside of you as he thinks about it, “He likes it rough, wherever and whenever. He's not like you in that regard, I know you love being at home. He likes when I fuck him in my car. That's when he gets loud, I think it turns him on to be put into uncomfortable positions.”

You whine as you imagine it, a pretty boy being fucked mercilessly by your lover in the back of a black Mercedes, uncomfortable and yet drowning in pleasure. It turns you on to envision it because you're a voyeur at heart, you'd love to see all of Suguru when he's so riled up and adamant at making someone scream his name.

“Oh, f-u-uck-” you cry out, “Keep talking, I'm almost there, Sugu-”

He kisses your neck, breathing heavily, “Me too, baby.” He mutters, “I can show you how he likes it, if you want, it's easier than talking.”

You nod rapidly and he flips you over instantly, pushing your face into the pillow as he pulls your ass up and bends your spine into an uncomfortable position, penetrating you even deeper than before once he enters again.

You feel your eyes tear up from the pain, but pleasure prevails and he continues his deranged pace, the slapping of skin echoing in the silence of the dark room. “Yeah, just like this, oh my-” he groans and pulls you by your hair to your knees, “Or like this,” he says and bites your neck as his hand wraps around it and cuts off your airway until you're lightheaded. Your spine is still bent at an angle that makes your insides stretch and you feel how tight you are around him, even though his pace never let's up.

You're a whimpering, bumbling mess as you completely lose yourself to him, unable to talk or even think at all. 

“Oh, both of you feel so divine, I couldn't let go of one or the other.” He groans next to your ear, pushing you forward until you're pressed up to the wall, the cold contrasting the scalding hot skin of his torso against your back. “I'm close baby-”

You whine as you feel his thrusts subside in speed but not intensity, your legs shake and you cry out one final time before coming undone on his cock as he fills you up with himself and his cum, feeling fuller than you've ever felt before.

He doesn't stop after he's done, though, he likes to feel your insides flutter around him and loves overestimulating himself with your sweet pussy until it simply hurts to have you anymore. His movement is slow, it gives you butterflies at how tender he becomes. His hands are exploring your body, grabbing your breasts and thighs, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he takes in the sweet scent in your hair. He's reveling in the sensation of your tender body against his and shaking from the captivating pleasure.

“I want to meet him,” You whisper again and make him laugh.

“You can meet him, honey.” He kisses the back of your neck and sneaks his fingers between your legs to touch you, making you whimper in protest, tired and fucked out. But he loves torturing you, so he doesn't stop. “You'll see, you'll get along just fine…” He keeps kissing you and touching you and your legs are shaking again.

“Sugu-ru-” you choke out, clawing at the wall, “Too much-”

“I know, honey, just a bit more…” He whispers into your ear, “You know I love to see you like this, so pretty.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers move skillfully to make you come once again, keeping himself nestled deep within your guts. You feel full, and he tells you you're so good for letting him torture you to his hearts content. “So sweet,” his lips graze your neck and you shudder, “So warm, hmm… I could stay inside of you forever.”

You moan at the thought, and he starts moving again, slowly, making sure you feel every little detail of him sliding against your insides. It's sensual and his hands are like hot lava dripping down your body, melting you entirely. He shows you there's no need to be jealous, no need to feel bad about sharing when he's got so much to give and when he needs both of you equally. 

“Do you feel better now, sweetheart?” He kisses your cheek, hugging you tightly.

You nod in response and turn around to face him. “I feel better, my love.” You say and kiss him, tasting the sugar on his tongue from the one who'd had him before you. “You're right, he does taste sweet.” You mutter, gazing at his lips and wondering how much sweeter he'd taste if you kissed him directly. It's a passing thought and you feel the jealousy prod at your heart once again, but you blame Suguru for these kinds of thoughts. He's the one who could manipulate you into being just as perverse as him. The question was whether you minded or not.

“Oh, really?” He chuckles as you push him down on the bed and climb on top of him, pulling the sheets over your naked bodies and snuggling into his warm embrace.

You sigh, “Sugu… Did you tell him about me?”

He sighs as well, “I didn't think of the possibility that you might be okay with that.”

You frown and sit up on top of him, “So he doesn't know about me at all? You didn't bother hiding the fact that you're seeing him from me.”

He looks guilty for a second, “I think he knows. He would've let me know if it was an issue. Just like you didn't up until now. You know him and I can't be together for real, so…”

You roll your eyes, “But you are. You screw him wherever and whenever, right?” You cross your hands over your chest and he looks down at your breasts, suddenly distracted from the serious matter at hand. “My eyes are up here.” You say in a deadpan voice.

“Yeah,” he pulls your arm for you to lay down again, “But we aren't public. Nobody knows except you. And I'll say I'd like it to stay that way, even though I know you won't tell.”

You give him a peck on the lips and smile softly, “I'd never.” 

He smiles back, “So, dinner?”

You nod, “Dinner."

a/n: thank you for reading! part 2 is out! part 3 is out!

[hayakawalove]

A Spoonful of Medicine

Summary: After recovering from a brief bout of illness, you find yourself craving sex. Of course Satoru and Suguru come to your rescue.

A/N: I would definitely try to get myself to be sick so they could take care of me. Also cause I want them to fuck me but that's not the point.

CW: Smut, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Sick, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Spit Kink, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Top Suguru, Switch Gojo, Creampie, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 4,018

Soft. 

Soft fabric greets your skin as your body rouses awake. You were certain that you were laying on clouds among the gods until your eyes open. Your room fills your vision, your eyes slowly coming into focus. 

You check the bedside clock, the time being 11:00 am. 

Fuck. 

You had slept for 13 hours. 

You turn back to look at the ceiling, slowly waking up fully. Trying to recollect memories from the previous night you find yourself coming up empty handed. The farthest you got were bits and pieces of Suguru and Satoru, their warm hands gentle as they cradled you while you drifted in and out of consciousness. While your brain tries to gather the pieces together, a soft scent floats over to you, a mix of meat and spices. 

Wait. 

You can smell? 

It had been days since your nose worked, but now it felt suddenly clear, the scents of the room overwhelming you. You were able to smell Satoru’s cologne on the tshirt you wore, along with the detergent of the sheets below you. In addition to that, you were able to smell something coming from the kitchen. 

Suguru must be cooking. 

Where was Satoru? 

You had been sick for the past four days, nearly bedridden with a cold that hit you like a freight train. The two boys had been at your beck and call the entire time. You almost felt smothered by the amount of love they poured into you. It felt good though, to be cared for. 

You sit up and throw your legs off the side of the bed while stretching them, your joints cracking as you shake off the nearly day long slumber. Turning to the nightstand, you grab the thermometer that Suguru had left. With a beep you shove the stick in your mouth, pulling it out when the time is up. 99 F. No fever. You didn't feel sick. In fact, you felt refreshed. Better than you have in a long time. 

You crumble up the front of your shirt, bringing it up to your face. Several large whiffs later you feel your head swoon. It had been days since you were able to smell him. 

He preferred to wear woody colognes, the addicting cedar scent covering you entirely. 

Satoru comes in wearing a face mask, holding medicine in his hands. 

“Wake up bunny, it’s time for your next-“ he slides in the room, looking at you. 

“You’re up.” 

“I’m up.” 

He walks over to you, inspecting your face. 

“You don’t sound like a 70 year old smoker anymore.” 

“And you still sound like an idiot.” 

Satoru chuckles at your feistiness. He missed it. He knew to start getting worried about you when you didn’t bite back. 

Satoru sets the medicine on the bedside table. Now that he was up close, you were able to get a good look at him. He looked good. He usually did. Okay, he always did. His white hair was fluffy, with bright blue eyes poking out above the mask. He was wearing a black shirt and boxers. Fuck, he looked… 

“Hello?” Satoru’s bending over, waving in front of your face. 

You get even more flustered once he’s up close. The smell of his shampoo and body wash, an intoxicating mix, over flows your senses. You weren’t freezing from a fever anymore. No, you were hot. Undoubtedly, earnestly, hot. It was almost hard to breathe under the heat of his gaze. 

He lifts up a hand and grabs your chin, long fingers splaying on the side of your face. He tilts your head side to side, inspecting something, before facing you forward again. Your stomach burns with need, fingers tingling at the close proximity. You had been so sick you almost forgot what it felt like to be anything but ill. Even if you could forget it, your body hardly did. A familiar sensation builds up between your legs as your eyes lock with Satoru’s. 

Something comes over you, and you’re ripping off his mask. 

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise but he doesn’t have time to ask you what you’re doing as your lips are on his in an instant. You hold his shoulders tight, your lips melding to his. If you could fuse with him, you would. Satoru hums against your lips before pulling away, looking deep into your eyes. 

“What, are you trying to infect me? That’s low, even for you.” 

“Want you.” Your voice comes out soft. 

Satoru audibly swallows, face flashing as if he’s considering it. 

He always did give in faster than Suguru. 

“You need to rest.” 

“No, I need you.” 

It’s hard to not pick up on the desperation in your voice. If it were any other time, Satoru might make fun of you. He couldn’t bring himself to make a quip this time though. Not with the way your eyes dragged across his body, your mouth twisting and turning. 

Your pussy tingles, your body finally catching up to four days without sex. Yeah sure you were hungry and thirsty, but more than that you were horny. 

Satoru wets his bottom lip, stepping closer. His lifts his knee between your legs, towering over you. He was even more beautiful up close. 

“Yeah? Careful what you wish for, bunny.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. Lips lock and tongues dance. He tastes like cereal, sugary goodness embedded in the plush of his lips. You move backward, allowing him more space. His body inches closer to yours as he crawls on the bed, his large body covering yours. Even though there are only centimeters between you two, you make up your mind that he isn’t close enough. Satoru is pliable, body easy to move as you throw him on his back, crawling on top of him. There’s a hunger deep in his eyes as he watches you take control. Your chest heaves as you stare down at him, not knowing where to start but knowing you needed to begin somewhere. 

You smash your lips against his, anticipation pouring from you. It had been days since you touched him, days since you tasted him. The second he opens his mouth, your tongue curls against his. You groan in response to the flavor of his spit. He feels like heaven beneath you, his muscles perfectly molding against yours. You grind your hips, searching for some sort of friction and his cock begins to harden underneath you. Satoru’s hands take hold of your hips, easily gliding you back and forth over him. 

Satoru didn’t think you were sick anymore, but even if you were he wouldn’t care. 

Each time the pressure of his cock nudges your clit, you let out a moan. There were layers of fabric between you two, but it almost didn’t matter. Your entire body was overtly sensitive, your skin tingling with excitement. You buck your hips back forth over him while your tongue explores his mouth. Satoru lets out soft grunts whenever your lips parts from his. 

You don’t pay any mind to the door creaking open, much rather focusing on the man below you. 

Suguru walks in the room with a tray of food in his hands, his long hair flowing down his back. 

“Is that your way of getting her to take her medicine? I guess that makes sense for you Satoru.” 

Satoru tries to pull away to bite back a smart remark but you aren’t having it, chasing after his lips with yours. 

Suguru walks in the room, setting the tray of food on the beside table. He didn’t feel like he was interrupting anything, so he made no move to rush out. If anything he was curious. Last night you could barely get up to go to the bathroom and now you were devouring Satoru. Above all else, he wanted to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself. 

The presence of Suguru didn’t deter you at all. You only had the man below you on your mind. Lips lock as you move your hips faster, the pleasure beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. 

Suguru slowly walks around the end of the bed, choosing to sit at the edge next to Satoru’s head. 

He speaks your name in a reprimanding tone, eyes narrowed in on your head. You whimper against Satoru, refusing to part from him until Suguru says your name again. 

It forces you out of your stupor, making you raise your head up to him. He looks weary, his eyes hollow with dull hair. Suguru hadn’t been sleeping much this past week. He wanted to be awake in case you needed anything. It was so very him. A pang of tenderness shoots through your heart at the sight of your other boyfriend. They were wearing themselves thin taking care of you. But all you could focus on was taking more. Your lungs pant as you look at him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” A stupid question at best, he knows what you’re doing. 

Your teeth dig in your bottom lip while you try to move against Satoru again. 

“You’re sick.” The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the end of the conversation. 

“No I’m not, I feel okay.” Your voice catches him by surprise. 

You did sound better. 

He lifts a hand up and places it against your forehead, trying to check for any signs that you were still burning up. 

“Do you?” 

“Mhm.” You fidget beneath his watchful gaze. 

The way he was looking at you made you to feel so exposed. Like a live wire laying next to a puddle of water. 

“Alright I guess, as long as you don’t get Satoru sick too. I can’t handle two sickly babies.” 

It’s an attempt at a joke, one that would normally get you. You’re too needy to laugh, instead choosing to resume ministrations on Satoru. You press down until you feel his cock against you again. The pressure against your clit forces a moan from your throat. He felt so fucking good beneath you. You bury your face against Satoru’s neck, your breaths coming out in quick succession. Suguru places his hand on your head, stroking your hair while you rub against Satoru. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was instinctual really, to keep his hands on you at all times. Satoru was the same way. Goosebumps crawl over Satoru as he feels your breaths against his skin. 

Your body moves faster, your moans sounding more salacious. Up and down. Up and down. You slide your pussy against Satoru, setting the perfect pace. Satoru’s hard cock presses against your nub, your soaked underwear clinging to you. 

More, just a little more… 

Satoru holds your waist, his long fingers digging into your tender skin as he drags you back and forth. It was almost embarrassing how fast you were able to make his cock hard. Honestly, he didn’t know how much longer he would last with the way you were going. Your whimpering floats over to his ears, immediately breaking any cogs that might have been working in his head. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re pushed over the edge, reaching a breaking point as you cum fully clothed rubbing against his cock. Your movements still while the noise dies down. 

“Did you just cum?” Suguru asks, disbelief highlighting in his tone. 

The boys know exactly what you sound like when you cum, they were just surprised as it had never happened so fast before. 

You nuzzle further into Satoru’s neck, trying to soak up his warmth. You groan against his skin, feeling the aftershocks rush through your body. 

“Felt good.” 

Your words are almost inaudible against him. Pushing yourself up on your hands you stare down at Satoru. His cheeks are flushed, eyes blown out. 

“Get on my face.” Satoru says, his words breathless and almost pained. 

You mean to question him, but there’s no room for debate, not with the way his eyes are trained on you.  

You shimmy off his body, swiping your clothes off. Even though you just came, your body was still hot, lust burning your skin as each second passed by. Suguru watches as you crawl on top of Satoru’s face, sticky cum covering your pussy. So swollen and needy, Suguru could feel his mouth start to water. Satoru sticks his tongue out and pushes it through your slit, relishing in the moan you let out. 

Suguru’s eyes are hazy when you look at him, desire pooling in the depths of his caramel gaze. Your pussy clenches when you meet his eyes. Satoru definitely noticed, as he lets out a groan into you. You look down and see Suguru’s cock beginning to harden in his pants. Fumbling with the zipper, you slide his cock out. 

Beautiful, every part of him was beautiful. 

It’s hard in your hand, drops of precum pouring from the tip. You wrap your hand around him, sliding down his cock. Suguru shudders at the motion, his abs tightening. He and Satoru didn’t get up to anything while you were sick as they were too busy doting on you. 

He didn’t realize how much he needed this until it was actually happening. 

Euphoria washes over him as your hand slides along his cock. He throws his head back with his eyes closed, enjoying how your skin feels against his. He loved Satoru’s skin and hands as well, but there was something different about the softness in your palms. He lowers his head and spits on his cock, body tensing once your hand pushes the spit down. 

“Just like that baby.” Suguru coos, lips barely parted as he stares down at your fist. 

You whimper, watching as Suguru’s spit covers his cock. It’s a filthy sight, the way his saliva spreads around. Heat rushes to your core as Satoru swipes his tongue through you. When you came in your pants, Satoru really had no other choice but to clean you up. His large fingers press into the soft skin of your thighs, leaving you no room to squirm around. His tongue grazes against your clit, forcing you back down when you try to jump away from the contact. Normally he would chuckle at your sensitivity. But he was incredibly serious right now. You started all this, so you were going to take it. 

Suguru groans softly as your hand glides against his cock, he was hard as a rock as your hand tightens around him. He really wanted you to rest all day today but fuck, he couldn’t complain with the way your fingers swiped his tip. 

You did seem better, he reminds himself. 

“Satoru, I can’t take it.” You murmur, his tongue dragging out a slew of moans from you. 

“Don’t focus on him baby, focus on me.” Suguru asks, trying to keep his composure. 

He tilts your chin to look at him, staring deep into your eyes while your hand strokes him. You had been with the two men for years, and been in love with them for even longer, so why did the intensity of Suguru’s gaze knock you off your feet every time? You dig your teeth into your bottom lip while letting out a whine, the suction on Satoru’s mouth only increasing as time passes. 

Suguru watches your face morph from pain to pleasure and back over, and he briefly thinks about asking Satoru to slow down. He doesn’t though, he would never admit it but he secretly gets off on the cruelty they show you. He likes the way you push them away, only to be begging for more moments later. 

Satoru isn’t prim and proper as he eats you out. Your room is filled with the sounds of his mouth laving your pussy, the noise embarrassing you. 

“So fucking noisy Satoru.” Suguru murmurs, reaching a thumb up to glide across your bottom lip. 

You grind your hips harder against Satoru’s tongue, letting out a moan once his lips wrap around your clit. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” Suguru speaks lowly, hypnotized with the way you were using Satoru. 

“Yes, fuck, yes.” 

Suguru hums at your answer, clenching his teeth while you rub his cock. 

“Think you’re ready for more?” 

You’re at a loss for words so all you can do is nod, very desperately. Suguru cracks a grin before deciding he can’t wait any longer, standing up and moving you off Satoru’s face. Satoru looks delirious under you, your cum smearing across his lips and cheeks. He looks like he wants to complain, but he keeps his mouth shut. Whatever Suguru says, goes, and Satoru is aware of that. 

Suguru lays you down on the bed, spreading your legs so wide it almost borders on painful. He slides in between your legs, giving you no time to catch your breath while he rubs his cock down your pussy. 

“You scared us princess.” He murmurs, pushing his cock inside you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head as you feel him stretch you out. 

Suguru’s face pinches as he bottoms out, your pussy giving him little to no room to move. You hadn’t been sick for that long, but it felt like it. His cock had begun to forget the shape of your walls. It seemed you did too, your pussy stretching far more slowly than normal. But that didn’t matter, he would mold you once more. 

Satoru pouts behind Suguru, briefly appreciating his form before scooting up beside you. He slides his clothes off and grabs your hand, guiding it towards his hard cock. 

Your body moves on impulse as you squeeze him, thoughtlessly guiding your hand up and down his cock. The both of you look like a wreck, while Suguru looks like he’s only getting started. 

Suguru watches the minuscule changes in your expression as he pulls out, before slamming himself back in. The moan you let out is pornographic. He almost blames you for how fucked you’re gonna get because honestly you gave him no choice looking and sounding like that. 

Your eyes feel droopy, but you refuse to shut them. The sight of the two men before you makes your mind run, your body already so close to cumming. 

Satoru, his head rung low, bangs obscuring his beautiful eyes as you pump his cock. His stomach tightening each time your fingers reach his tip before gliding back down. 

Suguru, whose face was the definition of sinful in the way he watched you, pressing his cock deep inside your pussy. 

It’s almost impossible to divide your attention between the two. Each time you slow down on Satoru, he lets out a begging shaking breath, but whenever you lose focus on Suguru he’s fucking into you faster. 

It’s like they were competing for your attention. 

Suguru grips your other hand and brings it to his mouth, pushing your fingers past his lips so he can suck them. The feeling only increases your sensitivity, making your moans come out louder. 

He pulls them out and you throw your head back when you notice the saliva dripping from your fingers. He was so fucking hot, and he didn’t even try. He guides them to your pussy, resting them against your clit. Your pussy was soaked already between your cum and Satoru’s spit, but that didn’t matter. You would gladly accept whatever Suguru gave you. You try to circle your clit, but you can’t. Not at the pace that would get you off. 

Suguru slams into you, tilting your hips in a way that makes his cock rub against your gspot. He notices that you’re having a hard time focusing on rubbing your clit so he slows down, pulling his cock out before pressing it back in.

Cute, he thought. Your poor little head could hardly focus on everything at once. 

Your legs trap his hips in, fingers starting to move faster. Both men have their eyes on you as you moan, body contorting as you inch closer to the high. 

Fingers skip along your clit as you feel yourself clench around Suguru. Desperate moans fall from your lips as your vision goes dark. It comes on suddenly, your body shaking beneath Suguru as you cum. They let out moans watching you, their bodies reacting to the way you sound. 

It hits Suguru harder than it hits Satoru. He can feel the way your pussy clings to him, the way your body trembles beneath his large frame. There’s no reason to take it easy on you anymore so he starts fucking into you more at a rough pace. His cock pounds inside you, teetering between pleasure and pain. Your hand flies up to grip his chest, fingers slippery from your cum. 

“Come on baby you can take it.” He finds himself saying, noticing the way you try to back off. 

“No I- it’s too much, it’s too much.” You plea, his cock penetrating you. 

He loves how pathetic you sound. 

Your pussy clings to his cock as his hips slow down, his cock jumping as he cums inside you. It almost feels like he’s suffocating with the way you grip him. He stills completely, relaxing in content. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest when he came. 

Satoru shakes you both from your post sex bliss. He’s a mess beside you, body slick with sweat with a jutted out lip. 

“Aw, poor baby.” Suguru says, eyes glazed over as he watches Satoru. 

“Shut up.” Satoru has no bite to his tone. 

Suguru’s eyes narrow at the comment. He leans over, cock still plugging you up, and grabs Satoru’s face. 

“Watch your mouth.” 

Your pussy clenches at Suguru’s tone. His lip quirks up at your reaction before he trains it down. Your hand rubs Satoru’s cock faster now, body trembling at the idea of making him cum. The noises he lets out were a mix between hot and cute. He liked acting all tough, but you knew whenever he was in the sheets his voice betrayed him. 

Your hand tightens around his cock, brows furrowing when his hips jump to meet your hand. You were so eager to watch him fall apart in front of you. 

“F-fuck.” Satoru’s delirious as he murmurs to himself. 

His cock was so hard it hurt. From the taste of your pussy on his tongue to him watching Suguru fuck you, he could hardly take it anymore. 

“F-fuck, hah, I,” Satoru groans your name. 

Suguru watches your slippery hand tug Satoru’s cock. He did feel a little bad that Satoru hadn’t finished yet. Suguru leans down and lets his teeth dig into Satoru’s throat, sucking lightly. The mixture of sensations causes Satoru to hurl closer to the edge. He humps your fist pathetically as he grabs onto Suguru’s hair. 

“G-gonna cum.” It’s hard to hear him over the sound of his cock in your hand. 

Suguru reaches a hand down, covering yours, and starts to rub Satoru’s cock. The feeling of his palm pressing into yours makes you squeeze Satoru harder. He groans at the pressure, his stomach flexing. 

Satoru cums hard in both your hands, the white silky liquid overflowing your fingers. Suguru removes his hand first, licking his fingers as he slides out of your pussy. 

It’s hard not to complain at the feeling but you keep it in. You use a towel that Suguru provides to wipe up Satoru’s cum. Your body feels way heavier, sinking into the bed after everything. Satoru flops beside you, always extremely needy after sex. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his body. 

Suguru stares at the tray of food, his brows pinched. 

“Guess I’ll have to heat that up.”

You chuckle. Eventually you would eat, but for now all you wanted to do was lay down with the both of them. 

“You don’t need to feed me anymore, I’m feeling better.” 

“I can tell.” Suguru murmurs. 

The boys laugh at you as you all push together, fitting together like a perfect puzzle, warmth spreading between you. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites

If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know, specify what you want to be added to if it's just my gojo and suguru posts, or all my posts

[borathae]

"I’m honestly so free use with you when I sleep", you told him after a very passionate morning in the sheets. That was weeks ago. Right now, your confession is haunting Jungkook. Free use, you called it. Free use...The words sound sweet to his pleasure twisted mind. Free use... Jungkook gulps and chases the ecstatic feelings your sleeping body gives him. One more time. He needs it one more time. 

Alternatively: After accidentally turning Jungkook on before you fall asleep, you wake up to him using your willing body to get off. Not that you mind, as his reward for your submission is as sweet as honey.”

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Camping Trip!AU, Smut 

Warnings: switch!Jungkook, subby!Reader, he calls her Mistress at first but then gets so needy that he takes the lead, Yoongi makes a short appearance, hints at various threesomes, hints at bondage, sex in a camper van, needy!Jungkook, consensual free use kink (free use in this story = you can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want), consensual somnophilia, kinda sensory deprivation because he does all of this to her in a dark room & she can’t see, Koo has sensitive nipples, nipple sucking, he rubs his nipples against her lips as she sleeps, he humps her thigh while she sleeps, and plays with her pussy while she sleeps, big cock, vampire fangs, needy begging, body & breast worship, strength kink (he rips her clothes & pins her down), dirty talk, sloppy oral (f.receiving), fast pussy fingering, lotsa drool & slick, squirting, he cums humping the mattress, cuddly aftercare, they’re in love & very needy for each other

Wordcount: 5.4k

a/n: besties, it is finally happening. Sanguis!Kookie is getting the smut he deserves. Get ready for lots of it because I am obsessed with him. I fucking LOVE him. This is set once he learned how to control his urges. Oh yeah, and it’s a Kinktober22 request that didn’t make the cut, surprise it’s here now! Have fun! 🤍

Today was a first for you and Jungkook. Your first ever couple trip. It wasn’t far. Just four hours by car to a small coastal town where every restaurant offered seafood and the air smelled of ocean. He drove while you napped.  

You spent the first day putting up your camper van by the beach and checking out the camp side. You spent too many minutes in the ocean and even napped under the shade of a big tree, cuddled up in a spacious hammock where Jungkook stole way too many kisses from you. Later in the evening – and after washing off the salt from your bodies and putting on pretty clothes – you went to eat at one of the restaurants where you ended up talking about too many things and drinking way too much wine.

It resulted in you getting so sleepy that you had just about enough energy to walk back to the camp side, wash up and fall into bed. The movie night you promised Jungkook was cancelled as you fell asleep five minutes after your head hit the pillows. 

Jungkook was left gawking at you with a big pout. He didn’t even have time to wash up and cuddle you in bed and you were already sleeping. 

Feeling utterly defeated, Jungkook leaves the camper to talk with Yoongi on the phone and make way for his frustrations.

“Hey, Kookie”, Yoongi picks up after the second ring, “what happened? Are you okay? Why are you calling me?”

“Yes, we’re okay. I’m sad. ___ already fell asleep because she drank too much wine.”

Yoongi chuckles fondly. 

“She’s cute”, he says, shifting on the chair in the music room. He was writing music on the piano before Jungkook called. He is smiling because hearing Jungkook’s voice makes him happy and hearing about your shared day makes him even happier.

“Yeah she is. Fuck hyung, it’s so unfair I want her but she’s asleep.”

“I can’t help you with that”, Yoongi says in a laugh, “why are you telling me?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know who else to tell.”

Yoongi laughs harder, “you are so silly sometimes, Kookie. Just enjoy your time with her, slip under the blanket and hold her. Listen to her sleep, kiss her neck. She’s so soft when she sleeps.”

Jungkook presses his legs together even when standing up. You would fit so snugly against his chest. Jungkook can perfectly imagine just how warm and soft you would feel. How you would press against the spots which are so incredibly sensitive. Jungkook shifts, feeling heat threaten to gather between his legs.

“Kook?” Yoongi’s voice rips him out of his thoughts and to his reality. Shit. He completely forgot that he was talking with Yoongi on the phone. Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at the realisation.

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yeah uh, yeah I did. Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Mhm I could tell”, the fond smirk in Yoongi’s voice is obvious to Jungkook.

He flusters.

“I’m so stupid for calling”, he mumbles, “I’m sorry hyung, I know you can’t help me.”

“It’s alright, kiddo. You know you can always call me, yeah?”

“Mhm, yeah I do.”

“Good”, Yoongi says and chuckles softly, “I gotta agree though. I can’t help you. You gotta help yourself.”

“I know”, Jungkook whines, “shit, I’m just nervous.”

“Why? It’s just ___.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook widens his eyes, “I’m so scared to lose control.”

“Kookie”, Yoongi’s voice was soft but carried the slightest hint of a scold with it, “if there was even the slightest possibility that you could lose control, I wouldn’t have let you go on this trip. You are ready. Trust in yourself, my lovely.”

Jungkook smiles giddily, “thanks, my hyungie. I needed to hear this.”

“Always happy to help”, Yoongi says, “now stop talking to me and hold our princess, you fucking deserve it, goddamn it.”

Jungkook chuckles, “yeah okay, you’re right”, he giggles, “I’m excited, hyung.”

“Mhm, you can be. She feels like heaven.”

They end their call soon after. Yoongi will continue playing piano, but he will do so with a soft smile ever so slightly present on his lips. Jungkook returns to your camper van, sneaking a glance at your resting form. You are sleeping peacefully with your mouth agape in soft snores. Jungkook finds himself melting at the view and wanting to cradle you against his chest. He perseveres however, sneaking away into the small bathroom to clean off the day.

Jungkook returns after some time, wearing nothing more than a pair of satin boxers. He tiptoes to the bed and crawls on top. He knows that he can be careful without even having to try. Sneaking comes natural to his race. A vampire is, after all, meant to surprise its prey when they least expect it. 

He opens the blanket to slip inside. You roll to your back and then to your side. Jungkook halts, holding his breath. Your eyes open, searching for him in the darkness. Jungkook can see you perfectly, while you are clearly blind.

“Honey?” your voice is frail in sleep. 

“Go back to sleep”, Jungkook whispers. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not? Nightmare?”

You shake your head, eyes focusing on his face. At least you think that you do. You are looking right past him. Jungkook thinks it’s adorable. 

“I want snuggles”, you say and pout. 

Jungkook feels flutters in his tummy. You are so cute when you’re sleepy and a little tipsy. He closes the distance between you and him and picks you up just to rest you against his chest.

You rub yourself against him like a cuddly cat, humming softly.

“So nice”, you mumble, burying your face in his naked chest, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, my honeybee”, Jungkook says, kissing your hair, “sleep tight.”

You huff out air, running your fingertips along his waist. Jungkook feels goosebumps cover every single inch of his body because of it. 

“I dreamed of you”, you whisper slowly and very quietly. 

“You did?” Jungkook is melting under your touch, squeezing his legs together.

“Mhm, you moaned for me.”

“I did?” Jungkook croaks, rolling his hips into you as inconspicuously as possible, “why?”

“I made you cum”, you say and wrap your lips around his nipple to suck softly. 

“Ah”, Jungkook gasps, parting his lips. His body shudders, his cock throbs instantly. His nipples are his weak spots. You are so warm and wet around him. 

“Oh god, why are you doing this?” he chokes out, fighting every urge inside him not to take you against the fucking sheets right here and now. It’s like you pressed a button. He feels fucking charged.

“Is nice”, you murmur and continue to suck on him in rhythmical motions, growing slower and slower as the seconds turn into minutes.

Jungkook is a mess by the time your sucks are barely there, trembling in desperation and moaning into your hair. His cock is straining his briefs, his fingers twist the pillow behind your head. He would probably hurt you if he didn’t, because the only thing he truly wants to twist is a bundle of your hair. He would be way too rough if he did, having to twist the poor pillow instead.

“Oh god, honey”, Jungkook croaks, giving you a breathy moan afterwards. If he knew that he would get to feel something so incredibly good, he would have joined you in bed sooner.

You suck and suck and…suck and…stop. Your lips part and slip from his swollen nipple. Your tongue leaves it too. 

“Please don’t stop”, Jungkook begs, releasing the pillow to caress your head, “please? More?”

“Hm”, the sound you make is barely there. Your tongue darts out and licks his sensitive nipple. Soft, slow, barely there kitten licks is all he gets, but Jungkook is so charged in pleasure that he feels no different than when you sucked him. 

He moans instantly, closing his fingers around a bundle of your hair before he realises what he was about to do and he grabs the pillow instead.

“Thank you”, he sighs, "this feels so good. Oh god, it feels so good…”

Lick. Lick. Lick. Slower and slower. The pressure gets less. You breathe on his wet nipple. Like a huff of air. Involuntary and definitely not meant to stimulate him. Jungkook still moans and squirms. Your tongue stops.

“More please”, Jungkook begs, arching his chest into your mouth. Your lips press against his nipple, but don’t move. They simply rest on him and drive him insane. “Mistress?” Jungkook gets out.

No answer. You grow soft in his arms and seconds later, your breathing returned to a slow and steady rhythm. You have fallen back to sleep, now resting safely in his arms. 

You left him in his desperation. You used the sucking as nothing more than your way of relaxation. And while you found peaceful sleep through it, Jungkook is left feeling like bursting. His cock is so hard, his balls so swollen and his nipple is so sensitive that one little pinch would be enough for him to soak his boxers in slick. 

Jungkook pulls you closer and sobs softly.

“Don’t do that to me please”, he begs, “please wake up again please.”

Sleep however doesn’t release you and Jungkook is left with a painful hard on and sensitive nipples begging for attention. 

“Please wake up, please”, Jungkook begs, trying to wake you with a little shake of your head. You don’t wake, but what does happen is that your lips rub against his nipple. Jungkook moans softly, quickly realising what he just did and going up in flames as a result. 

“Sorry”, he gets out, “I, I didn’t mean to, I-”, he hesitates. It felt so good to do. Your lips are so soft and warm and still wet from all the licking you did. Would it be disgusting of him to do it again? Just one more time? 

There is a part of him which tells him that he is disgusting for wanting it and another part of him which keeps reminding him of that one conversation you had a few months ago. 

“I’m honestly so free use with you guys when I sleep”, you told Yoongi and him after a very passionate morning in the sheets where Yoongi woke you with oral while Jungkook jerked off and watched, “as long as you make sure that I don’t get hurt, you can honestly use my body however you want. Wake me with your cock stuffed in me if you want to, I’m so down.”

Back then, your confession resulted in Yoongi and Jungkook fucking you to the point where you cried from feeling too good. 

Right now, your confession is haunting Jungkook. Haunting and tempting and turning him into a version of himself which he feels very ashamed of. Free use, you called it. Free use…The words sound sweet to his pleasure twisted mind. Free use…

Jungkook gulps and squeezes the back of your head with his fingers. One more time. He presses your head closer and moves his chest. His nipple rubs against your lips. 

“A-ah hng”, he gets out and swallows audibly, feeling his cock twitch in his briefs. The feeling was indescribable. Your lips are so soft and wet. Now that sleep is keeping them relaxed, they are moving around his nipple sloppily. 

Again. He needs it again.

Jungkook presses into you and grinds his swollen bud against your lips. Electricity shoots down his body and moves his cock in a throb.

“Oh god”, he moans, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m sorry, it’s so good. I’m sorry.”

He grinds his nipple into your lips and moans. It feels so good. You made him so swollen and hard and sensitive that now he is dizzy because of it. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop”, Jungkook whimpers, “Mistress, you feel so good.”

You give him no answer. You are slumbering peacefully. 

Jungkook presses himself closer, hoping for more of the sensation. He needs more of your mouth. More. You mewl and move your head away. He was too close, air was too sparse. 

Jungkook shimmies back, staring at you with glassy eyes. His nipples are throbbing. He wants more, but he knows that he should give you a break. He was greedy enough. 

He cups your cheek, runs his thumb over the lips he used so disgustingly before.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, “I’m so horny, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

He has no idea why he apologises. He knows that he can do that to you. He was witness when Yoongi did far kinkier things to your sleeping body. He witnessed when he tied you to the bed and woke you with his fingers buried inside your already soaked pussy. And he was witness how you sleepily tried to fight the ropes only to beg for Yoongi’s vampire cock seconds later. And he was witness as Yoongi gave it to you, pounding into you until even the last ounce of sleepiness was fucked out of you.

Jungkook was witness to all of it and yet he still feels as if he committed a crime. He would feel far more terrible if his cock wasn’t that hard and his thoughts weren’t stuck on that night all of a sudden.  

“Oh god, I can’t help it”, Jungkook croaks and rolls you onto your back. He pins your hands against the pillow and wiggles his knee between your legs. Then he straddles your thigh, hovering above you that way. His curly hair hangs into his features messily, his blown out eyes are glued to your sleeping form. 

You look so innocent and sweet. Yoongi was right, watching you sleep is the best thing ever. It makes him feel so goddamn good. Especially when you look and feel so fragile under him. He feels so needed and strong, but also incredibly horny.

Jungkook angles his hips and rolls them against your thigh.

“Ah, hah ah”, he moans, squeezing your hands. Your thigh is grinding right against his swollen, hard cock. Slick covers his tip instantly, forcing his briefs to stick to it and making it slip against your naked thigh. 

You aren’t wearing panties. Jungkook can see it from the position because when he flipped you onto your back, your shirt slipped up your tummy and the blanket fell from your torso. Your pussy’s right there. Exposed to his eyes. As if you wanted to give him as little hurdles as possible. As if you wanted him to be able to access your pussy whenever he wanted to. 

Free use. 

You weren’t lying.

Jungkook moans throatily, punishing you with harsh rolls of his hips. He is aware that the only person that punishes is himself as this results in his cock rubbing against you with such vigour, Jungkook finds himself convulsing in reaction. 

“Fuck”, he rasps, “fuck, I’m so disgusting”, he chokes out and whimpers, “and you’re so perfect”, he gets out and furrows his brows, eyes focusing on your pussy. 

Maybe he is imagining it, but you are glistening. As if you are getting wet. Jungkook puts your hands together so he can hold both your wrists with one hand, then he lets his other run down your body. Along your arm, lingering on your neck and massaging your breasts for a while. 

You whimper, but don’t wake. 

“You’re perfect. Completely perfect.”

Jungkook speeds up his hips against your thigh, soaking more of his briefs. So fucking soft. You’re so soft when you sleep.

He runs his hand further down your body, your tummy is one of his favourite spots to touch. So soft and pretty. Next your hips. Jungkook fights every urge inside of him not to bruise it. Then your pussy. 

You moan in your sleep at the first touch, writhing underneath him as he drags his fingers through your folds. 

Jungkook trembles and squeezes your wrists. 

“So wet”, he growls, feeling his cheeks tingle as veins appear on his skin. He draws circles on your soaked entrance, looking at it with blown out pupils. The sexy dream you had before must have turned you on so much that you got wet. Jungkook moans and fucks your thigh in desperation. So wet and warm. So warm…

He wants to push inside, but doesn’t dare to. So he lifts his fingers, guiding them to his lips to suck them clean. 

The second your taste touches his tongue, Jungkook knows that he is done for. His eyes glow ruby instantly and his fangs are outside within not even a second. He moans deeply, cock ripping through his briefs from the sheer animalistic need he feels. Your thigh is covered in his slick instantly, resulting in his swollen cockhead to slip and slide all over your skin.

He moans, fucking your thigh as if he was already pounding your pussy. He is so turned on. He could cum right here and now if he wanted to. You are so goddamn sweet.

Jungkook sucks his fingers until even the last of your taste is gone. He slips out and moans deeply. His eyes don’t know where to look. Your pussy, your thigh, your tummy, your face, your tits. Your tits. Your nipples are swollen even under the fabric.  

Jungkook doesn’t think, he acts. He is too far gone to think. He rips your shirt and exposes your torso to his eyes. Your tits look so pretty when you are lying down and gravity does its perfect job. 

“Fuck, baby”, Jungkook whimpers and gathers one side in his spit covered fingers. He lowers himself and sucks your nipple into his mouth. 

“Ah”, you moan, arching your back. The scent of your wetness grows stronger in his nose and Jungkook swears that he sucks even harder because of it. He slides up your body, pressing his knee against your soaked pussy. 

A whimper slips past your lips. Jungkook soaks up the sound as much as he soaks up the feeling of your wet cunt against his knee. He rubs it into you demandingly, abandoning your wrists to instead gather your other breast as well. Hungry and full of greed, he leaves a sloppy trail of kisses on your chest as he changes sides. Your nipple slips between his fangs and he sucks hard. 

“Ah”, you moan, arching your back, “what? Ah! What?”

Jungkook lifts his head. You are awake again. Of course you are. It would have been a surprise if his rough touches hadn’t woken you. Your eyes search for him in the darkness. You look so out of it and confused.

“Don’t be scared”, Jungkook rasps, “I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t get it, w-what are you doing?”

“You can’t just suck my nipples and expect me to be okay afterwards. I’m so fucking hard, feel it”, Jungkook grinds his huge cock against your thigh, pairing it with his knee grinding into your pussy. 

“Kook”, you moan, reaching for his hips.

“No”, Jungkook pins your hands above your head within a second, “stay where you are or I’m tying you up.”

“W-what?” you blink in the darkness, “I don’t understand. What are you doing?”

“Free use. That’s what you called it. Free use. I’m taking what’s promised to me.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook watches in delight as you roll your eyes back sensually. You arch your back off the sheets and throw your head back as best as possible.

“Holy fuck”, you choke out, rubbing your thighs against his legs in a needy attempt to press them together. 

“That’s okay with you, right?” he makes sure, “can I make use of it?”

“Yeah, fuck Kook. Yes”, you allow him, opening your legs again as you squirm sensually.

“Good. Wanna exchange safewords?”

“Mhm, snowdrop.”

“Yeah, snowdrop. Fuck, I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he rasps and lowers his tongue to your body to lick a thick and hungry stripe down your tummy. 

You writhe and whimper, allowing it to happen with a racing heart. Like this, he isn’t holding your wrists anymore, but he doesn’t have to. Your body is still droopy enough that keeping your hands above your head is an easy task to do. 

It does get harder however when Jungkook buries his tongue between your folds. You expected anything but this. 

“Ah! Kook”, you gasp, bucking your hips up. 

Jungkook grips them and pins them into the sheets, growling into your pussy as he sends you a warning look. One you can’t see because it’s dark in here and you have your face scrunched up in pleasure.

Jungkook fucks the mattress and moans, changing his grip on your hips to one around your thighs just so he can push them apart and reveal more of your pussy to him. He growls again from the pleasure this brings him, burying his hungry mouth deeper between your folds. He licks eagerly, using the animalistic hunger he feels for you to keep it quick.

“Holy fuck, please don’t stop”, you moan, panting like crazy afterwards.

The thing with Jungkook and oral is that up until two months ago, he was unable to do it with you. He wanted to do it, but his urges were too strong to do it safely. If he had given you head, it would have resulted in him biting you and therefore hurting you. Not anymore. Jungkook has been practicing with you and Yoongi almost every third night. It was the result of one terribly sexy evening where Yoongi tied up Jungkook and then made him eat you out “as practice”.

Ever since then, Jungkook couldn’t get enough. He was insatiable, asking for more practice sessions whenever he gets the chance and fantasising about nothing other than having your pussy under his tongue again and again and again. 

Your taste haunts him. It stays with him when he isn’t eating your pussy and it tortures him with its absence until he has to beg for yet another “practice session” in order not to go mad. You are all aware that calling them practice sessions is nothing but a lie. Jungkook found his sweetest drug between your legs and needs it like an addict. He doesn’t want to practice, he wants to get high on you. And you won’t complain. Practicing with Jungkook feels like fucking heaven. 

And tonight it seems that he finally had enough of pretending that what he does is nothing but practice. You are alone with each other, no Yoongi or Taehyung to monitor him in sight. This isn’t practice anymore. This is honest sex. The thing he already did every third night under the guise of practicing. 

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg, feeling your thighs shake without having any sort of control over it. He is moaning and growling so much that besides the quick licks and strong sucks, Jungkook sends vibrations through your pussy and it’s making staying still impossible.

Jungkook thinks that he still goes a little feral during those moments. That would explain why his cheeks are covered in veins and why his fangs are out. You taste way too good. Jungkook didn’t think that your pussy would taste so good, but she does. He grows feral for your taste and feels withdrawal symptoms whenever he can’t taste you.

More. He needs more.

He buries three of his fingers in your pussy just to pick up your slick and lick it off his fingers. In the current position, his tongue grinds against your clit as he licks and you whimper his name as your hands finally leave their position.

You grab a bundle of his curly hair and twist it. Your other hand slips to your own thigh just so you can grab it in desperation.

Jungkook looks up. Your head is rolled to your side, your pretty tits move each time you pant for air. He wants to touch them and squeeze them and roll your nipples, but he physically can’t bring himself to leave your pussy. Instead, he buries his fingers back in your warmth. Three at a time and covered in his drool. This time around, he does it so he can massage your g-spot as he begins sucking and licking your clit. 

You wail and arch your back, kicking the sheets because you can’t handle this feeling otherwise. You dreamed of him before you woke. Like before, you dreamed of having him lie heavy in your hands as you made him cum. It was such an immersive dream until all of a sudden it stopped feeling like a dream and became your reality.

You can’t accept that this is your reality. That Jungkook is eating your pussy as he fingers you roughly. It’s too much for your sleepy brain to comprehend and all you can do is shake and tremble and kick the sheets as your fingers dimple your own thigh. 

Jungkook out of all the people is eating you out. After two months of extensive training, you should be used to his techniques, but you really aren’t. You never know what you will get with him. He can be so gentle and slow if he wants to, whilst other times he treats you with such roughness that you want to scream. He is never terrible however. As if giving head comes to him naturally. Like a vampiric purpose he is finally able to fulfil.

Jungkook breaks his lips away from your clit and presses his thumb against it instead. You know what that means, moaning his name loudly as Jungkook drags his heavy tongue up your torso.

Not being able to see what he does, adds excitement to all of this. “Please don’t stop, holy fuck”, you beg, feeling charged in pleasure. He is massaging your g-spot with such precision that there is a constant hot pressure deep inside your pussy. As if you were constantly on the edge of orgasming. You can’t handle it, but don’t want it to stop.

He takes your right nipple between his teeth and tugs hard. 

“Fuck", you squeak at the pinch, arching your back. 

“I wanna ruin you”, Jungkook growls, “I wanna fucking break you”, he adds and lifts his head, staring down at you with swollen, parted lips. His long fangs glisten behind them, but you can’t see them. You are blind to his current state. The black veins, long fangs, feral hunger in his eyes. You have no idea that it is happening, all you can do is moan and writhe for him.

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg unaware of his confession and slave to his touches. 

He speeds up his hand between your legs, fucking your pussy with angry precision. 

“Like this, baby? Mhm?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and sob softly. Waving your hands in the air panickedly until finally grabbing your own thighs. Jungkook watches it happening with a throbbing cock. 

“Kook, please.”

“So good”, he lulls, drooling on your chest, “shake for me. That’s my girl, shake for me.”

“I’m gonna cum”, you croak and sob, “please don’t stop, please.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps going. He is addicted to two things. Your taste and your orgasms. Knowing that he out of all people can make you feel so good that your body has to climax in order to handle it, fills him with a rush of ecstatic pleasure. He wants it to happen anytime you announce it, making it his only goal for the time it takes you to get there.

“I wanna lick you”, he pants, “will this get you there? Can I please lick your pussy?”

“Yeah”, you mewl and sob, writhing under him.

“Fuck. Thank you”, Jungkook moans and disappears between your legs. He replaces his thumb with his tongue, but keeps the speed of his fingers going. With eager curls and fast motions, he fucks your pussy open as his tongue and lips work your swollen clit. 

Your voice breaks and you grow completely silent as you hold your breath. One. Two. Three. 

“Meehngn”, you let out in whimpers, now fighting for air in quick pants until it repeats itself again. Silence as you hold your breath and then squeaky sounds as you fight for more air. 

Jungkook knows that it’s only a matter of seconds by now. You get terribly non vocal whenever you are close. He fucks the mattress harshly, whimpering into your pussy. To think that he was able to fuck you so much these days that he learned that fact about you. It’s a dream come true. He is so fucking happy!

“No-ohw”, you choke out and break under his tongue. Your legs close around his head, your pussy squeezes his fingers and your clit throbs against his tongue. Your orgasm sits so deep, making you cry out because Jungkook moves just right to turn it from good to spectacular. 

You are so turned on and sensitive from the combination of all your dreams and Jungkook’s touches that it doesn’t need a lot for you to convulse to the point where you cover his face in your wetness. 

Jungkook moans loudly and cums. He fucks his throbbing cock into the sheets as he shoots cum everywhere. He can handle everything but not drinking your squirt. The smell of it is already enough to make him climax. Your taste is another story. One which make him cum so fucking hard that he feels delirious afterwards. 

He keeps his fingers buried in your pussy to feel your rhythmic clenches, but rests his head on your thigh, panting with you as you both recover. 

“I’m sorry”, you whisper in a frail voice.

“For what?” he asks in a husky voice.

“I should have warned you.”

“Don’t apologise”, Jungkook clears his throat. Your taste still lingers on his tongue. He feels his head pound because of it, “don’t ever apologise for that.”

“I don’t know what to do”, you confess.

“Why?” he lifts his head, “are you okay?”

“No?” you laugh, “you just ruined me.”

“I told you that I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah…”

You giggle and you sound so sweet doing it that Jungkook wants to kiss you. He gathers his already recovered strength and kisses a trail up your torso. You gasp and grow softer underneath him. This feels like heaven. To be brought to your breaking point, only to be loved so tenderly afterwards is heaven.

“Koo”, you get out, presenting your neck to him so he can kiss it. He does so with a happy sigh, slipping his fingers out of you to instead caress your waist. It fits so perfect between his fingers and all he really wants to do is cherish it. Neither of you mind that this spreads your wetness all over your skin.

“Thank you”, he whispers, stubbing your jawline with his nose.

“For what?”

“For this experience. I know you talked about free use, but it’s a privilege to be able to touch you, not a right. So thank you.”

You roll your head to look at him. You are looking right past him again. Jungkook smiles because of it. 

“I’m happy when you touch me”, you whisper and smile droopily.

Jungkook giggles and kisses your forehead.  

“I’m gonna give you so many orgasms on this trip”, he whispers against your skin, “you have no idea.”

You squirm and giggle, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to squeeze them gently.

“Don’t say that.”

“Mhm, no I will”, he whispers and snuggles into you, purring softly as he suckles on your neck to find relaxation. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as tranquillity washes over you.

“Did you rip through your briefs?” you ask him now that you feel his softened cock press against your leg. 

“Yeah”, he says and chuckles, “I lost it at your taste.”

You snicker, “you have the strongest cock ever, this is impressive.”

“In my defence, my vampire cock kinda has a mind of its own sometimes. I’m still not completely in control.”

“Don’t apologise, it’s hot”, you say and nuzzle into him, “I can’t wait to wake up to it stuffed in me tomorrow, yeah?”

“You’re unfair”, Jungkook mewls, “fuck, now Imma dream of it.” 

He makes you laugh, “sorry.”

“So mean”, he mumbles and pouts. 

He feels way too drained from his orgasm to feel truly affected by what you just said. You feel too ruined by your orgasm to want him to act on it right now. It still feels nice to tease each other. 

Jungkook cuddles into you, closing his arms around you. 

“Wanna stay like this forever”, he confesses and sighs happily.

“Me too”, you say, hugging his arm as best as possible.

You drift off to sleep together in this position, smiling because it felt so good to finally be able to love each other without any kind of restraints.

[woncon]

➳ the case of the missing boyfriends

➶ poly!stray kids x gn!reader (seungsung focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Last time, your cookies were missing. Now six of your boyfriends are. They probably went on a date and something happened. Everyone's phone is off, only one rings and a stranger answers. They have a riddle, a game for you. And that starts the race against time to find the others.

➴ genre: thriller/mystery, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au, angst to fluff

: ̗̀➛ warnings: horror house elements (evil clowns, a chainsaw chase, zombie lady), nightmares, a silly fight scene, gets suggestive in the end, wooyoung has a cameo, one mpreg joke, happens after the case of the missing cookie + one little reference, but can be read as a stand alone

⌨ :: 8.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ when i came up with the idea, i intended it to be a lot more silly than it turned out. however, once you read the whole fic, you'll realize that it's still quite silly. if this fic had a theme music, it would be circus. i'm 100% sure.

⁀➷ big hug for both @honeytwo and @wonsheep for betaing this <3

➳ mlist

４：３０ ｐｍ

You wake up to someone invading your personal space. Hands embracing your warm, soft, dreamy world, tiny kisses sneaking in, slowly pulling you out. Even though you're usually fussy when you're woken up, it feels good. You reach out to pull the person to you, so that they can join you in the relaxing, comfortable comfort of the bed - and use it as a pillow, of course. 

But he takes your hands off his neck. You snore and squint in frustration to find out who is the villain who will surprise you with a kindly kiss and then leave you. If Seungmin's messing with you again, he won't get away with it this time. You'll pin him to the mattress with your body, then lay on him like a lazy sack of potatoes and let him suffer.

“I can't, honey.” Finally, you don't have to open your eyes, because his whispered words tell you that you're dealing with Minho.

Groaning, you reach for him again, grabbing his bicep.

“Just a little bit?” You try to hook him like a koala so he has no choice but to cuddle with you. “You're warm and you smell s’good…”

"I have a date," Minho announces.

You're not giving up. One last attempt to get Minho's love right away. You pat the empty seat next to you.

“When I come back.” Minho kisses you goodbye on the lips and climbs off the bed. You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "I promise.”

He's a man who doesn't make promises lightly: cuddling is guaranteed. Now you watch his receding figure with a calm heart. He has proved stronger than your resolve.

“In the meantime…” 

You shudder at the whispered, husky voice from the cushion next to you. You thought you were alone.

“I'll have to suffice.” Jisung wraps his arms around your waist, tilts his head on your shoulder. “Please.”

When you don't push him away but hug him with a similar affection, he sighs contentedly.

You glance towards the bedside table and read the time. It's 4:30 and you're in no mood for anything. You want to continue your nap. By the time the thought occurs, you're almost asleep in Jisung's embrace.

７：４６ ｐｍ

When you wake up because someone tickles your feet, you immediately look for the clock. You are shocked by the exact time. You've slept for more than four hours: in this house, you've set a daytime record. 

There is always one or more loud, squeaky individuals who are difficult to do this activity around, other times a few mischievous ones who specialise in annoying the sleeping, or you may have those who make every move to rattle the bed as they climb onto the mattress, waking the peaceful Sleeping Beautys. In your home, romantic princes who wake you with a kiss are rare.

Now the mewling kittens have arrived to put an end to your record-breaking nap. The ones who just found you when no one else was feeding them. Provided you wake up soon enough after being visited, there are no drastic consequences such as pajama scratching attempts, scratch marks on the skin or even a kitten settling on your face. Fortunately, you wake up in time for the animals' antics. 

Soonie, Doongie and Dori patrol the end of the bed, rubbing against your blanket-covered feet at intervals. They notice that you've been successfully awakened and meow almost in chorus, clambering upwards in encouragement and nuzzling you in submission.

You scratch the base of Doongie's ear, and you are brought even more awake by the purr that ripples through your side.

“He neglected you too, after promising to come back, didn't he?”

They purr in agreement.

After you've fed the kittens, you'll search for Minho and drag him to bed. No one will be allowed to stand in your way.

７：５０ ｐｍ

In the kitchen you find Jisung. You have some vague memory of cuddling with him while you slept the sleep of the righteous. You may have drooled on him somewhere, but you can't be sure. In any case, your sleeping partner is currently facing the microwave. He's wearing a stretched-out, nondescript grey T-shirt and watching the numbers scrolling on the display. A mug is circulating in the microwave, he always takes a drink after he wakes up.

Jisung stretches. A slice of his thin waist and hips flashes, then his clothes fall back over him. He groans while he ruffles his hair, and the homely energy that emanates from him is more powerful than the impatient purring and rubbing of hungry kittens at your feet.

Dori leaves your feet, instead nimbly approaching your boyfriend and greeting him with a meow. Jisung looks down, then turns around. He smiles softly, his hair tangled, his face puffy from a restful sleep.

You'd like to throw yourself at him and squeeze the life out of him, but instead you return his smile and step over to the cupboard where you keep the cat food. You take out three cans and three bowls. At the rattle-rumble, Dori decides to return to you, describing figure eights with his cuddly body around your legs. You serve the menu on the floor. The three kittens begin to gobble enthusiastically.

In the meantime, Jisung's drink is ready. The scent of warm cocoa fills the room, drowning out the smell of cat food. His spoon clatters against the edge of the mug, the cats chew and snort eagerly, otherwise it's quiet. You sit down next to Jisung, wondering what's weird about your home. 

"I dreamed of evil clowns," Jisung admits.

You pull your chair closer to him. You take his hand.

"Yes?"

Jisung nods, then takes a sip. "They kidnapped the others."

"All of them?"

"I think so. I couldn't see everything clearly. I'm sure about Chanie hyung and Innie."

"You want to talk about it?" 

You're stroking the back of his hand to reassure him. His face has turned pale from recalling the dream. You don't want to force him to elaborate, but it might be easier to get over it if he shares it with someone. In this case, you. Otherwise, Felix or Hyunjin would be here with him, hunting for the meaning of dream symbols on the internet. 

Where are they?

Jisung pouts, his brows furrowing as he recalls the broken mirror shards of his nightmare.

"We were at a circus. The boys were tied up. The clowns were pointing different guns at them with balloons, but I knew they would go off if they wanted to. They were tall and dangerous, and their eyes were so empty they still gave me the creeps." Jisung squeezes your hand. You squeeze back supportively and watch intently. "So they were captured. They were being held in the circus, and when we found them…”

“We found them?” You're surprised. “We looked for them together?”

“You and me, yes. When we found them, the clowns told us to choose who would die and who would live. We were given enough time for Doongie to sing the anthem.” Here, Jisung goes silent, swallows, then excuses himself. “I know it sounds weird, but it was really scary at the time. I was forced to choose.”

The shocking image in your mind keeps you speechless for a few moments. Finally you pull yourself together, because Jisung needs you to calm him down. “That must have been awful. But don't worry, Sungie. Only one thing can come true from this: Doongie singing the anthem.”

Jisung smiles gratefully, and again looks more rested than worried. 

“Thanks for letting me snuggle up with you when I woke up. And for listening to me.”

“Anytime.”

Jisung leans closer, and the next moment you're resting your hands on his thigh for easy access to his mouth. He tastes like sweet cocoa. Hmm, sugary cocoa: tastes much better than the banana lip balm Hyunjin used, then Minho kissed him hard and brushed his teeth three times till the flavor lef-

You bow away from Jisung.

“Do you know where Minho is?”

Jisung brows raise to his forehead.

“We're kissing and you want the company of another man?” he asks, shocked. “I knew you liked his kiss better than mine.”

You tug at the front of his shirt and press another kiss to his lips.

“You should spend less time with Hyune. You're adopting his drama queen habits.”

“At least Hyunjin doesn't ask about other people when we're making out,” he snorts disgruntledly.

“I had to ask. He needs to pay off his debt. And if we get really into making out, I'll forget what I wanted besides you.”

"Forget everything then," he whispers. "I don't mind.”

You look at each other in silence. The kittens have finished eating. There's nothing but you and the endless, soothing silence.

Silence?

In this always cacophonous house? 

Yes, it's silence. And it's so strange. No echoing laughter, no pattering footsteps, no shouting. As if no one were home. 

“Sungie, since you woke up, have you met anyone?”

“You.” Jisung bites his lip and stares at your mouth like a master at his magnum opus.

“Besides me? “

Jisung hums thoughtfully. “No.”

Almost everyone went on a date?

Or were they all kidnapped by evil clowns?

No, no, no, no. They went on a date together and the two of you were left home to sleep peacefully. That could be what's behind this. Just no clowns.

You check your phone to see if you've got any text or visual reports, maybe any missed calls. Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin are usually keen to entertain you with some of the events of the date - if any of them are on the date, otherwise you'll have to wait. Chan will often call you to tell you where they are and how you're feeling. Changbin sends out messages about each location and who's doing what. And Hyunjin sends picturesque photos, and maybe it's meant to make you jealous that you're not going with them, and your heart does indeed tighten at times like this, but not out of jealousy, but out of admiration, because the photographer captures the moment as if you were there, breathing that air, with that sunlight on your face, with the people you love so much.

But today you didn't get a message, a call, a picture from anyone. No one wrote to say where they were going, what they were doing, how long they were staying. Not even that 'we're on a date, don't worry, we haven't been kidnapped by evil clowns'. After Jisung's dream, you need confirmation. If Minho didn't wake you up with a few kisses, you wouldn't know where he went.

You dial the first phone number on your call list, Chan's.

“The number you have reached is not available.”

You call the next number. And the next one. When the lovely female voice rings for the sixth time, the tension in the kitchen is thick and suffocating, like air in a balloon gun. You chew the inside of your mouth.

"Calm me down," you ask.

Jisung, who has been biting his nails until now, gets up. He moves to the calendar on the fridge, surrounded by pictures of you together.

“Well, there's nothing scheduled for today,” he reports uncertainly. “But that doesn't mean there's a problem!”

While he sits back down, you call the next number. The last one.

It rings. 

But not one of your boyfriends answers.

“Hi,” A high-pitched little girl says hello. Jisung trembles next to you. “We have what you want. If you need it, come get it! Follow the clues. It'll be fun like the circus. But beware, if you don't find it by ten o'clock tonight, what you want will be lost forever. Bye-bye!”

The little girl's breaking up the line. You're looking at each other.

Your phone vibrates in your hand. You both cry out. You throw the device on the table like a furry spider. 

You have a new message.

Go to the mall! Find Happy!!! <3

Before you can discuss what that means, the floorboard cracks. You snap your heads like frightened meerkats. In the doorway stands a tall figure in a red clown mask.

“MOMMY!" screams Jisung, and you scream too as you cling to each other in terror.

The clown snarls, takes a step. You grab Jisung's spoon and throw it towards the stranger. Droplets of cocoa splash into the air.

“Hey!” The clown is displeased. His voice is unrecognisable under the mask. He reaches under the cloth and pulls it off his head.

You can hear the stone clang as it smashes off your heart. Under the mask is Seungmin.

“We thought you were an evil clown who kidnapped the others,” Jisung whimpers in the aftermath of the shock he just experienced.

“What?” Seungmin picks up the spoon and throws it in the sink. “Is this some kind of new role-playing game?”

“This is deadly serious, Min,” sniffs Jisung in exasperation.

“Sit down,” you poke the chair. “We'll tell you what's the case, if you tell us why you were in that,” you point your finger at the clown mask in horror.

“It came for that bank robbery game Innie ordered for PS. I picked it up while I was playing, then got hungry and left it on,” Seungmin shrugs. “But you were looking at me like I was the devil before…” He looks at you expectantly, so you tell him about Jisung's dream, the failed calls, and ask him about his phone.

“I forgot to put it on the charger,” he explains why the device didn't ring

Finally, you show him the message. Seungmin looks at it thoughtfully.

“The leader of the clowns is a little girl,” you say. 

“An evil clown litttle girl." Jisung shudders visibly. "The uncrowned princess of children's horror.”

“I'll call her," Seungmin announces casually.

“What?" you reply in chorus.

“It's definitely a prank. You're being played. Minho's on the date, so it's obvious he's behind it. Don't worry.”

Before you can convince him it's not a good idea, he calls the number.

“Hello?” The clown with the ringing voice answers. “What do you want? Is the message not clear enough?”

“Who is this?” asks Seungmin gloomily. “Is that you, Minho hyung?”

“I have no idea who Minho hyung is. But if you want a surprise, I suggest you play by the rules. No more calls, follow the clues or I'll get mad!”

The little girl hangs up again. An open threat is a fist to the chest. Your boyfriends are in danger. All of your boyfriends, and Seungmin is still staring at your phone screen as if he hasn't been given enough explanation.

“That sound is familiar..." he mutters.

“We have to save them, Seungmin.”

He immediately snaps his head up. 'You're not using a nickname, which means it's completely serious. Bloody serious.

Jisung nods. “We don't have time to ask questions. Let's go to the mall right now!” He gets up, no longer interested in his cocoa.

A few minutes ago you were kissing happily, and now your friends' lives depend on you.

“Are you coming or staying?” You take your phone from Seungmin's hand and slip it into your pocket.

He looks at you. You can almost see the questions zigzagging in his eyes and the fire that craves answers.

“I'm coming.”

８：１１ ｐｍ

Seungmin speaks next on the escalator of the Plaza.

“Evil clowns because hyung dreamed it? Why would a bunch of clowns want to kidnap our boyfriends? And why not us?”

“For ransom,” you suggest.

“Have we received a demand? Any demands?” Seungmin asks.

You grab the barrier. “No, but–”

“They're doing it 'cause they can." Jisung's voice is desperate, hoarse. “It amuses them. I saw their faces in my dream. They enjoyed it.”

He's the first one off the escalator. You and Seungmin follow him. 

Tension hovers around you like a heavy cloud of vapour, gripping your stomach, and every nerve in your body cracks like a sharp spear. Seungmin's disbelief doesn't help the situation. You'd like to give his sceptical brain a stimulating tap to make it more supportive. To make it realise that it's not the why or the how that matters, but finding your boyfriends and ending this state of being. It doesn't matter if they are evil clowns or deceitful people who want money. All that matters is what they have taken and how you get your lovers, back from them.

You have to find Happy. Happy can be a shop, an object, a person, or even an alias. The Mall is full of people and opportunities to be exploited. You look around cluelessly, but there is not a single sign of Happy in your immediate surroundings.

“Let's take a tour of the building,” you suppose. “You two on one side, me on the other.” You know how much Jisung hates crowds, let facing one alone. He definitely needs someone with him. “If we find anything, we'll call each other. If not, we'll go store by store.”

“Isn't that too time-consuming? We don't have two hours, and I doubt it's one puzzle.”

“Last time I lost something, I found it. You remember?” You're referring to the cookie case that Seungmin successfully slept through, but he heard about it enough times already.

“I doubt you'd find the boys now by kissing every person you see.”

“Trust my methods first, okay? If it doesn't work, it's your turn. The Plaza is huge and crowded. It's gonna take some time.”

Of course, you change your mind in four minutes when Jisung calls.

“Yes?”

“We found it,” he says, his voice shocked.

You hurry to the toy shop, as fast as you can slalom through the crowd of people surging in different directions. Jisung and Seungmin stare at a six-foot-tall balloon clown with blue hair, a red grin and a white-gloved wiener finger in his hand holding a sign: BE HAPPY! Around his red boat shoes are balloons.

“Is that Happy?" 

“Probably.”

“And what next?”

“Well, you're the brains today," Seungmin looks at you.

“Oh, is that so? Do you believe us?”

“Let's just say it's pretty creepy that Happy is a clown.”

“Listen…” Jisung steps away from Seungmin, whose hand he's been holding. He reaches in between the board and the clown's body. “It looks like something”s here…” He pinches his fingers together and pulls out a yellow note. 

You gather round to read it. There's only one address. It's not hard to recognise. It's the address of the nearest Donut King to your house, where you first dated Jisung and Seungmin, and where you've been countless times with the others since then.

８：４５ ｐｍ

It's Friday night. The Donut King is packed with families, young people, hot drink lovers and those with a sweet tooth. 

Seungmin spots a box, you follow him through the queue holding Jisung's hand. You duck down, then scan the crowd like meerkats scanning for danger. Not another colored clown, or anything resembling a clown. Seungmin sighs and lays the paper on the table. The message is simple, yet unclear. It doesn't tell you what to do here. One thing is for sure, you won't eat. The three of you are too nervous for half a bite, let alone a whole donut. You love to eat here, but now you're nauseous from the smell of oil and powdered sugar, the feeling of being stuck on a mission, and time is running out.

Jisung's feet kick unstoppably under the table. You run your fingers through his hair, simultaneously stroking his locks and massaging his scalp.

“They'll be fine,” you reassure him, and reassure yourself at the same time. “We will find them.”

“And the clowns or whoever will pay," Seungmin confirms.

“Part of me doesn't want to know who they really are. This part of me wants to back down, and I hate it for that.”

“But you're still here,” you let him know. “Even if you're scared and don't know what's coming, you're here with us to save the others, no matter what. You’re brave.

Jisung laughs in disbelief. “Me? Brave?”

“They're right. You are brave, hyung," Seungmin confirms. “You hate clowns and crowds, and today we are chasing clowns in crowds.”

Your other boyfriend blinks at him in surprise. He certainly didn't expect you to think him brave after he admitted he wasn't one hundred percent committed. But it's still true. You smile sweetly at him, and when he smiles back faintly you tilt your head on his shoulder. The soft scent that marked his skin in the kitchen is gone. His neck is clammy with sweat and his skin is astringent with stress. As much as it would be nice to stay like this, to calm Jisung and encourage each other, there's no way. The enemy is waiting for you, and in their grip is your world.

As if an angel has descended from the heavens to lend a helping hand, Wooyoung emerges from the bathroom. He notices you and not only lets you know he is here, but immediately waves you over and weaves his way through the guests. He's wearing his Donut King work clothes, from apron to doughnut-patterned slouch hat.

"Hi there," he says cheerfully.

“Wooyoung hyung! Do you know anything about the others?” Seungmin throws himself at him. 

Wooyoung grins broadly. “Yeah, of course. I'll be right back.”

You look at each other. A gleam of hope.

“They left something for you.” Wooyoung returns with a cardboard drink holder. Three cups of slushy rest in it. Three slushy cups rest in it. Red, green, blue. Strawberry, green apple and blueberry. Three familiar flavours that leave a lousy taste when the flavour left on your tongue meets another flavour on another tongue. If the boys actually bought it, they'd know how much you've been shying away from this combination since the three of you first tasted it on each other's tongues. Unless they were forced to take these flavors. “A little something.”

He has no idea that a good friend of his has been taken hostage by a group of people obsessed with clowns.

“Who bought it?” You ask the first question. “Was anyone with them?”

“Was there anything strange about them?” Jisung joins in the questioning.

Wooyoung wonders.

“Chan hyung bought it. I think I saw the others at one of the boxes. I don't remember anybody I don't know, but there was a big crowd. Chan hyung seemed excited.”

Chan doesn't usually show that he's excited. He was probably more afraid.

“I have to go back. But we can talk later. Have fun!" he waves and then retires. His work, his life goes on as normal, as yours should.

“Ew.” Seungmin grimaces. “I love you guys, but the taste of our first kiss is still in my nightmares.”

“We can swap if you want,” Jisung offers. One by one, he takes the drinks out of the holder. “Rather a nasty tasting kiss than a clown-- Hey, wait a minute! There's something on this one. On top.”

He turns it towards you, and indeed. The plastic, blue roof has text in small letters. A new message from the robbers, for you.

Well done, team! You're just one step away from getting your surprise. Come to the House of Horrors if you're brave enough!

- Ary

Ary. Wraith name for a clown girl leader. And the House of Horrors? You shudder, and again the pithy tension rushes up to your toes. Just as you wouldn't kiss Seungmin with a tongue of slushy, you wouldn't go back to the House of Horrors. Once was enough. But you have no choice.

“Oh, man,” Jisung swallows hard and stretches his hand on the table. “Shall we do it? We're gonna do it, right?”

Seungmin puts his own on his in response. Jisung doesn't even have to ask you anymore, you automatically put your own hand on top of theirs, and you realise the significance of how good it is to have them with you on this journey, and not to face all the difficulties alone. Although you are more lonely, because the others are not here and you worry about them and miss them, you have nevertheless formed a small unit that gives you enough confidence to carry on without being completely consumed by panic.

９：１１ ｐｍ

You reach the street of the House of Horrors. It's dark, the neighborhood is deserted. The building, with its rotting paintwork and weathered façade, is a disgusting, uncomfortably creepy sight.

“I hate it here,” says Jisung.

You nod vehemently, because you have no objection. You wish it didn't end here. You wish you were all home already.

Seungmin sips the last few sips from his slushy. You decided to drink all three glasses to relieve stress and you won't kiss.

“What's the plan?” Seungmin asks, and Jisung looks at you expectantly.

“We're going to find the boys.”

The iron-barred entrance to the house of horrors is guarded by two burly clowns. Contrary to Jisung's dream, they don't have balloon guns. One with a scarred face holds a spear, the other a rusty axe. Though that rust could be dried blood, judging by the way the clown grins maniacally with his chipped teeth.

“Guests,” he says, stretching each note. As you march closer, she twirls the axe in her grip. On the handle is the name Annie written in runny red letters.

"We've been waiting for you," the other grunts. His teeth are green. Not spoiled meat, no, just a bit of salad. They are actors in the House of Horrors, like all monsters. Paint covers their faces and they have props in their hands. They're paid to give unfortunate people heart attacks. 

They are actors, aren't they? Or are they part of the robbery gang?

“Go inside.”

They step away from the door, so you can read the locked sign perfectly. There's no opening hours, but if you remember correctly, the place normally opens at ten. Now, of course, it's different. It's probably rented by the people who took Chan and the others.

You go in, and Jisung is shaking. No sooner does the door close behind Seungmin than there's a high, witchy chuckle. You all flinch, you cling to Jisung, Seungmin pulls you both defensively to him. When you realise that you're just being played by the sound effect, you're a little relieved.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Jisung mants as you march into the darkness, where anything could leap out at you with sharp claws - or balloon guns - at any moment.

You pass a hideous ornament, a huge tarantula dangling in a cobweb, and then you have company. It emerges from a staff corridor behind you. You can't hear his footsteps, only the sound of him firing up the chainsaw. You snap your heads back. Of course it's a clown. It has sharp, long teeth and evil, tiny eyes. His green hair flutters in thick tufts of fur around his head as he winds the gun again and again under the naked, dangling light bulb.

“Run!” You don't know if any of you are actually saying it, or thinking it, or collectively thinking it, but all at once you start running in the only direction, down the tight, dim corridor. There are only a few flickers of red LED light. The cold brick wall seems to narrow, and the clown's squeaky-grunting saw grows louder. You can feel the slushy ice in the back of your throat. You imagine the touch of the saw in your back. Slowly, you tear Jisung's hand away, though he grips yours with similar fervour.

After a while, the ominous, cruel growl ceases. You pause to exhale, but are invariably on guard. The danger has passed, but it has not gone away. You reassure yourself that it was an actor. The first time you came here, you met a crazy clown with a chainsaw. Of course, if they hold a chainsaw on you and start chasing you, you don't wonder if you've ever had anything like this before, you run.

“Sungie? Are you feeling all right?” you ask, because Jisung is still gasping for breath and leaning on his knees.

He exhales. - I'm fine, it's just a lot to take in at once.

“Can you keep coming?” Seungmin asks.

“If I've come this far, there's no turning back. I might as well go to hell with you.”

You continue down the building's only corridor. íyou come to a small, basement-like room. Here, filthy brick walls protrude and the lighting is also dim, but you can clearly see the woman chained to the other side of the wall, near the exit. Her head is down, her hair completely covering her face. Her naked legs are stretched out, her feet are dirty, covered knee-deep by a hospital gown.

“She'll wake up, right?” Jisung chews his lip. Yes, he'd follow you to hell, you can believe him, but he'd get too hurt on the way, and you can't let that happen. You have to think of something.

“Yeah," Seungmin hums. "I'll take you across.”

“How?”

“First Jisung hyung, then you. You can close your eyes and everything. Trust me.”

Seungmin is generous, chivalrous and above all caring. He always has been, ever since you've known him, but the fact that he shows it so openly, and doesn't hide it behind sarcastic remarks or teasing, makes your heart flutter more than the chase you just experienced. So Jisung hops on Seungmin's back, the latter puts his arms around his thighs and moves towards her with cautious movements. Of course, no matter how cautious, she was waiting just for that, and shaking her chains, she howled. Her bloody, zombie-like face emerges from under what is presumably a wig, and she snarls at Seungmin. Wrestling with the handcuffs, she tries to get to him, stand up and bite him. Seungmin looks like a terminator in comparison. He marches with Jisung on his back. He might otherwise be somewhat frightened, but a sense of responsibility and fear amplifies his persistence. When he has successfully put the boy down, he returns to you. You look at him gratefully, then jump up and hug him tightly.

“VERS,” she screams at the two of you, like an inarticulate curse, while writhing on the ground like a suffering snake. “VERS! VERS! VERS!”

You're really inside the building now. You think you're about to reach the exit. Most of your memories of the place have merged into a nightmarish mass, but you don't think there are too many more obstacles. You then enter a room with skeletons propped up against the walls and discarded, cobwebbed bones crunching on the floor. In the middle of the room is a huge chest. It easily fits a man.

“This too?” You’re displeased. Better to complain than to be afraid. And if it can't be just one of those two, it's still better to complain and be terrified than just be terrified. 

Of course, the crate creaks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin roll up his sleeves as the lid reveals the contents of the chest. Somebody with a weeping clown mask emerges. They are holding an artificial candle in front of their drooping mask.

“What is the message?” she asks in a tinkling, young girl-like voice that you may hear in your nightmares, and that you've surely heard on the phone today.

“What?”

“To get the surprise, you have to tell us what the final message of your mission was.”

You don't want to play along, but if that's what it takes to see the others again, you swallow your disgust and think hard about what the heck the clown could be thinking about.

Seungmin's patience has run out, though. Surprisingly quickly, he pulls a sword from the skeleton at his side and points it at the clown's throat. His hand doesn't tremble, and he stands tall like a true hero. “No more games. Tell us where our boyfriends are at this instant!”

The clown casually pokes the weapon, and the whole thing shakes.

“It's plastic, honey. A prop, like everything else. The only real thing here is your love.”

“What?” Jisung can't take it anymore. “What the hell is going on? And also... Oh, shit!” He takes a step back. 

In the next moment you understand why. 

“I can’t believe this shit.”

From the darkness, the clown is joined by two more. One tall and muscular, the other shorter, but also muscular. They're ready for action, and Seungmin only has a toy sword.

“I'll ask you one last time. What is the message?” The clown girl tilts her head to the side.

“Fuck you all!” You manage to pull out a sword, too. If that's all you've got, you'll fight with it, but you'll fight anyway.

Jisung raises an axe in his hand and holds it towards the enemy. When it comes to you and the others, his anxiety and fear cannot put any restraints on his ability to stand up for you, and though he didn't believe you in the Donut King, he is proving just how true that is of him, and what a great boyfriend he is. “We want our boyfriends back, dickheads!”

You fall even more in love with both of them. Even if the clowns will defeat you, you're glad you had the chance to get to know and love them.

The clowns giggle, then start approaching you. You don't retreat, holding up your weapons defensively. The shorter clown gets so close to you that the end of your sword begins to twist across his chest, the weak plastic toy unable to take the pressure of muscles. As if on cue, the clown flexes his muscles, your sword is bent to one side, and all you can see is the chest trying to swallow your poor sword. Suddenly you get déjá vu. As if you've seen this chest before. Like you've touched it. It's so familiar.

Testing the power of the weapon, you slam it onto the man's arm, then, taking him by surprise, you lunge forward and pull the mask off his head.

“Ow,” Changbin says, stroking his shoulder. “It stings.”

Jut and Dwae stand in the way of your sword. Your hunch was right. But it only makes you more confused. 

You dodge Changbin and run to the clown who's sword-fighting with Jisung. As soon as you're close enough, you recognize his scent, and even before you take off his mask, you know you'll be greeted by Chan's curly locks and handsome face.

“What the fuck?” Jisung gasps.

Seeing the developments, Seungmin also springs into action. He takes off the little girl's clown mask. Felix smiles up at him. So it wasn't a little girl, it was Felix, changing his voice. 

“I knew I recognized that voice!” Seungmin exclaims. “That's the sound Lix makes when…”

“When?”

Seungmin scratches the back of his head and takes a closer look at his axe. “It's not important.”

“What is important is that we-”

Before you can finish, Jeongin sticks his head in the back doorway of the room. “Is the role-playing game over? Ready for the cake?” Then he takes the situation in, the swords, the whole atmosphere. “Oh, my God! You guys were fighting?”

“You guys had a fight?” Hyunjin appears on one side, Minho on the other.

“Who won?” asks the man who  promised you hugs, hours ago, but instead you see him at the end of a nightmare. Thankfully, unharmed.

“We took this role-playing thing a bit too seriously," Chan replies.

“Role-playing?” you ask.

They're all fine. Felix was the clown on the phone, they left the clues. The evil clowns merged with your boyfriends. It still doesn't add up.

“We've gone clown-themed for the anniversary role play.”

“It was my idea!” Jeongin reports. “Because of the game I bought.”

“Anniversary?” Jisung blinks, surveying your boyfriends as if seeing them for the first time. “What anniversary?”

“Wait... Don't you know what day today is?” Changbin asks.

The three of you shake your heads. As your adrenaline levels drop, you feel empty, with question marks in place of your thoughts. You press on the rubber surface of the mask you hold in your hand, uncertain, looking lost as you lock gazes with Seungmin.

“We thought you were kidnapped by evil clowns,” Jisung whispers.

Felix looks concerned as he speaks softly to the boy. “Yeah?”

“Yes, and we were really fucking worried you'd get hurt if we didn't get here on time.”

“Oh,” Chan acknowledges with a soft look. 

“Please, hyung, don't touch me now,” Jisung steps back when Chan goes to hug him.

“So when we saw the clowns outside, and then you as clowns, we prepared for a life-and-death struggle to save you,” you continue. You don't think it's likely that they meant to hurt you mentally on purpose, but regardless, they must know why Jisung is so upset that he won't even let Chan touch him, and instead backs up next to you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“We're fine,” Jeongin comes under the dim lamplight. “All of us.”

“We're sorry the clowns scared you,” says Changbin with a rueful look on his face, “We figured if Yongbokie didn't flinch, Sungie wouldn't either.”

“We wanted you to enjoy the game,” Felix assures you of their aims.

“What game would that have been?”

“A romantic treasure hunt. But we were clearly shit at organising it. I'm sorry. You can slash me with your swords if you want to.” Chan stands there in exasperation, and means it. He's seriously sorry, and you can smack him for real if you wish.

But Seungmin drops his sword. You follow his example. Jisung's axe also falls to the ground beside you, and he wraps his arms completely around your waist.

“We overreacted,” you admit, stroking Jisung's back in comforting circles. “We immediately assumed the worst after Sungie told me about his nightmare. We dragged Minnie along with us because we couldn't think of a better explanation than the evil clowns who kidnapped you.”

“Can I tell you the real explanation?”

All three of you nod in answer to Chan's question, almost simultaneously.

“Today is your anniversary. A year ago this time, you went on your first three-way date.”

And the picture finally comes together in your head. The toy store in the mall where you picked up Jisung because Google Maps on his phone wouldn't show him properly where Donut King was. In his confusion, he was looking at unicorns. Seungmin bought him one as a joke. At Donut King, Jisung paid for the donut menu, which at the time included slushy. The House of Horrors came up, and Jisung insisted that he really liked these places. Sp that you get to pay for something as well, you offered to go and foot the bill there. You didn't get very far inside, running out into the evening air screaming and holding hands. Seungmin was laughing, and you accused him of squeezing your hands repeatedly in fear. "Maybe I just didn't want you to let go," he had replied, still holding your hands. You knew at that moment that it was your first date, but not your last. And on the fourth, you were drinking slushies again, and those certain nasty-tasting kisses were exchanged.

The timeline unfolded correctly. Even Minho's "I'm going on a date" comment reminded you of your first date. You said the same thing to him when he wanted to pull you to him, but you were so excited you couldn't sit down at the thought of the Jisung-Seungmin date. 

They've organized this reenactment eerily well. It's just a shame that you went down this road on a completely different, much scarier and more dangerous programme, and didn't really bother with the locations, other than getting closer to the destination.

“Fuck,” you groan in shock as the wagon of memories rolls up from your subconscious.

“We forgot our anniversary,” Jisung mutters with similar exasperation.

“Wow, I feel even worse now,” laughs Seungmin bitterly. Felix strokes his upper arm, and then, as Seungmin doesn't pull away, pulls him into a hug and whispers something in his ear. Soothing words, no doubt.

“I'm so, so sorry, babies. It wasn't supposed to be like this- We didn't mean to-”

“It's okay, Chanie,” you say, because Chan is looking more and more like Jisung before he has a panic attack. “We misunderstood each other. No hard feelings.” You extend your free hand toward him. Chan steps up to you and takes it, but his shoulders lower only when Jisung looks up from your shoulder and pulls him into your embrace.

“It wasn't directed at you, Chanie hyung. I was- I'm still confused," Jisung whispers into Chan's neck.

“It's okay, baby. It's a lot to take in, hmm?” He's keeping you both warm, holding you close. "But you survived. You're doing so well."

“And you fought so well, even if it was only with plastic!” says Changbin, who half-holes himself between your shoulders, resting his arm on your hip.

"Oh, yes," Felix counters, "I'll sleep soundly at night. If some dodgy gang should lay eyes on me and kidnap me, I know you'd fight for me even if you only had cheap plastic swords.”

“Of course!” you agree.

“For you, we'd take on half the world, go to houses of horror and fight clowns,” says Jisung, and it's liberating to hear those brave words from his lips, remembering how firmly he and the bard stood up against clowns. “More, I mean.”

“For all of you," Seungmin nods. “Even for you, Minho hyung.”

“My heart is racing, Minnie,” grins Minho, mocking but affectionate.

“Do you want a group hug? Or would you like to see the surprise?” Jeongin asks, still close to the curtain. From the tone of his voice, he's looking forward to seeing how you'll react. Today, however, there were suddenly too many surprises, and a good hug is never worth missing.

“Come here and give me a hug, you evil clowns," Jisung puts your thoughts into words.

“Don't say that so loudly. There's more than one person here with that job description. Do you want to hug them too?” asks the approaching Hyunjin.

“I don't think so. Especially not the chainsaw guy.”

“Did you rent the place by the way?” Seungmin grabs Jeongin and comes up from behind, clinging to him in a central embrace.

“Yes, but only for a while. It'll be open to everyone again soon, which is why it was important for you to be here on time.”

“We ran like our lives depended on it!”

“You did, hon.” Chan pat you on the head. “You're here now, and there's nothing wrong.”

“Squeezing hug!” Felix shouts, and your boyfriends really do squeeze. It's so much better than when nervousness did this to the inside of your body. This hug is reassuring and reinforces the knowledge that you have nothing to worry about. They are all here, safe and as close to you as possible.

“My love?” Jisung gently nudges your neck with his nose. You wonder how he can move. You're pressed face-first against Chan's chest. Not that you mind, it's a great place.

“Hmm?”

“Happy anniversary!”

“Oh, yeah. Happy anniversary, Sungie!” You find a way with your strong sense of logic to get yourself in a position to kiss his face. “And you too, Minnie!”

“Happy anniversary,” he appears, sliding through the comforting huddle of hips and arms. “I can't believe I've been bearing with you all for a year.” Even though he says it in vain, the kiss on your cheek says he's more than happy to put up with you. 

As you lean away from him and give way to Jisung, you notice that Chan is eyeing you rather softly.

“What is it?”

“He's been dying to kiss you since we started getting ready. He only talked about you between two tasks. How excited he is to see you, and how he hopes you'll be happy to-”

“That's enough, Lix." Chan was so embarrassed that if you wre to lay your head back on his chest, you would feel the heat radiating through his shirt. "Let's go see the surprise. I hear you bouncing, Innie.”

And though the others start to leave, Seungmin pulls Chan back just as he's about to go. Without any explanation, he grabs his face and kisses him, then nods to Jisung. Jisung kisses him with similar enthusiasm. You hug him tightly, not stopping at a kiss, but trail a series of pecks on his cheek until he starts giggling.

“How's the mixed slushy?”

“Awful. But I can take it.”

"Chop-chop, lovers," shouts Hyunjin. "Innie-yah is considering breaking up with you, and no one can distract him.”

“We're coming.”

“We're really coming.”

“Anything for Innie!”

The room behind the curtains is like it's not part of the house of horrors. The colourful sequins and heart-shaped ornaments, the cute cake fitting itself on top of the table covered with fancy abros, and the all-encompassing 'Happy Anniversary' text stretched across the table.

“Wow.” You try to take in the whole sight and fit it into the picture you have of today. First they planned it all: the treasure hunt stations, the game, and then they decorated and furnished this room for you. They remembered and staged the anniversary you forgot.

“Do you like it?” Jeongin asks. “Or is it too much?”

“It's all right,” Seungmin hums.

“Just all right?” Jeongin is mildly indignant.

Seungmin smiles like an angel. "I mean, I like it. But not as much as I love you, Innie-yah.”

Jeongin puffs, but you can tell he's satisfied with that answer. After Jisung and you confirm that they've all done a good job, he sees the time has come to give Felix permission to cut the cake.

Soon, the small room is filled with the sound of clinking forks and conversation, the sound of home that you missed terribly without them.

“I'm glad I didn't kick you in the balls after all,” you report to Changbin between bites. You're also glad you've calmed down and can joke around again.

“Did you plan on doing that?” He leans against the table and blinks at you, shocked.

“Well, you're clearly stronger than me. I had to be sneaky.”

“Mean, but clever. If you were in trouble and I wasn't there, by all means, do it.”

“Hmm,” you nod.

“Taste good?” Felix comes to you with a hopeful look.

“Heavenly,” you tell him.

“I'm pregnant,” says Changbin enthusiastically.

Felix playfully frowns. "That can't be from my cake. It's Hyune’s merit.”

“Yah!”

“Oh. What an indiscreet exchange of ideas.” Jisung also appears in your humble circle, his cheeks stuffed.

“You're always there when something spicy happens, aren't you?” Felix shakes his head, wiping a smear of cream from Jisung's upper lip, who is chewing his cake voraciously, his face so innocently puffy you wouldn't think he'd approach you for the juicy details.

“It's not that. I'm here to pick up my lover, with whom I'm celebrating our anniversary. I want to be with them today.”

“Aw,” comments Changbin.

”But of course, if some sex-related information hits my ears on the way, it's not my problem,” he grins, as much as his full cheeks will allow.

“Uhuh, uhuh, sure.”

“Well, honey? Care to join me and Minnie for a toast?”

You nod, so you round up to find your third partner. Of course, in this relatively small room, it's not difficult. He's talking to Hyunjin, though he's looking stunned at the moment. When you get there, he turns to you and shares his verdict.

“We’re stupid.”

“A real anniversary present is the plural,” you flutter your eyelashes.

“No, we really are stupid.”

“Gosh, no need to overdo it though,” Jisung shuts the other one's mouth. Seungmin frowns disgruntledly and manages to pry Jisung's hand away, but doesn't speak again.

“Why have we suddenly become so stupid? Apart from the fact that we imagined ourselves in a hostage drama today?”

“The more creative part of your boyfriends made up a pun,” Hyunjin explains, casually running his hands down your back. “Yongbokie named it the message of your mission. Though I think it was more of an easter egg, and you didn't necessarily have to guess.”

“I remember him asking us something like that. That's when Minnie pulled a ‘sword’ on him.”

“And he was referring to the pun. Words were hidden at different stations. First, there was 'happy'. Then 'ary'. The name 'Annie' was written on the bard of one of the clowns on guard outside. Finally, there was the woman in chains shouting 'vers'. Put it together.”

“Happy anniversary," sighs Seungmin, brokenly. He doesn't like to look dumb.

“We really didn't pay attention to that.”

“You went in a completely different direction, you didn't go through the day as a game. I don't think you're irredeemably silly, just cute.”

“Thank you, Hyune,” you gratefully snuggle closer to him, enjoying the way his hand slides further around your waist and he pulls you closer.

“Hey, don't take my anniversary partner!” Seungmin shouts at him.

“They can't be taken away,” you report. “They’ve a mind of their own. And they're sad because you called them really stupid.”

“You're not really stupid. But even if you were, I'd still love you," he says, holding out his palm to you.

You accept it with a smile and, together with Jisung, go to the table to clink glasses.

“Let me do it,” Minho spins to you in a cavalier manner, holding the unopened champagne in the palm of his hand. His immaculate appearance is marred by the creaminess of his cheekbones and forehead.

“You promised me a hug,” you remind him as he hustles the cork.

He smiles lazily. “Oh, yes. I remember perfectly well that you couldn't resist me, sweetie. And I remember what I promised you. You'll have it when we get home.”

Chan and Jeongin line up the glasses. Chan's chin is creamy and Jeongin's nose is creamy too, a picturesque testimony to the fun they just had with Minho.

Jisung, Seungmin and you get the first three glasses. Jisung turns towards you, and you get the feeling he wants to make a toast in front of everyone. He is excited and smiling, not nervously biting his nails or tapping his foot. Seungmin looks at him with interest, a sweet smile in the corner of his mouth and a twinkle in his eye. They're relaxed, happy, in love, and so you can truly appreciate that this is yours. You've had these two brave, fine men for a year.

“You know how to make this night perfect?” Jisung finally asks. “We must teach Doongie the national anthem.”

Everyone looks puzzled, but you laugh with him, and Seungmin smiles too. Then you clink glasses with each other and the others, but for the moment you say no more about it, no matter how curious they are - especially Minho. For now, it's just your inside joke on your crazy but ultimately rewarding anniversary, which was about you in the most dramatic way.

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[dancingbirdie]

Honestly I just wanted to write something Astarion x Halsin x Reader related, and this is what my brain told my fingers to tap onto the keyboard. It's sugar sweet with like one speck of chili pepper flake. Idk how to feel about it - it's not my fave I've ever written, but I also like how cutsey it is? Idk.

Feathers, Flirts, and Fiends

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Astarion x Halsin x gn!Reader

Word Count: 800

Tags: Fluff with a dash of spice at the end, humor, throuple domestic bliss, polyamory cuteness

Summary: For Astarion, it can be very taxing when your two lovers also happen to both be druids.

*****

In his dream, the bed was so disheveled that down feathers whooshed up in riotous little eddies each time he moved his limbs. Snow white, soft as petals, landing carelessly this way and that. He could feel the heat from his two lovers on either side of him, although the bed was too expansive to reach for them. 

They must have shared a rather rowdy evening together, given the abundance of freewheeling feathers that surrounded him. He couldn’t recall the details now. Curious. His eyelids slipped shut as a tuft floated down to land on his lashes. Another caressed his cheek. He smiled, content. 

But then the third arrival was less welcoming, landing just under his nose. He lifted a hand up to knock it aside, only for the feather to be replaced by another. Brows furrowed, he batted it away with a tinge more annoyance. But that one was only replaced once again. 

The barrage of feathers was beginning to tickle. He could feel a sneeze itching its way to the front of his nose. As his body instinctively inhaled to let it loose, he woke with a start. 

Well, the dream had gotten one thing right, Astarion thought to himself. 

There were indeed feathers surrounding him everywhere. It was all he could see as he peered about with bleary eyes. But they weren’t the soft down of a priceless plush pillow or mattress, no. 

They were attached to the pelts of his two lovers, you and Halsin, having shifted sometime in the night into your owlbear forms. Sandwiched between you, he felt the feathers rise and fall, sweeping up and down across his body, in time with your deep, drawn out breaths. 

“Gods damn you blasted druids,” he griped, shoving against you and the Archdruid in an effort to rouse your overlarge forms. “Wake up and shift back! Lest I succumb to death by feather asphyxiation.”

You’d awoken the moment Astarion had startled beside you, but the trickster in you considered feigning sleep just to see how long he would grouse. He could be so dramatic at times. It was darling. 

But Halsin was a kinder soul than you. You sensed him shift immediately in response to Astarion’s huffy command. Heard him murmur a sincere apology. 

“I know you’re awake, you beastie” Astarion hissed into the feathers covering your ear hole. “Your breathing’s picked up.” 

Blast. There goes any fun. 

Blinking open your enlarged eyes, you rolled them in a show of exasperation as you pulled on the tether of your magic to relinquish your wild shape. You quickly downsized to your normal elven form, curled in the same way your owlbear self had been sleeping. 

“Don’t be such a gremlin, Astarion,” you yawned, scooting closer to embrace him and Halsin, who had banded an arm across the vampire’s waist and was reaching for you to join them. “I would have thought you’d rather enjoy the warmth of two owlbear companions.”

“Oh yes, being smothered by lichen-and-moss-smelling feathers has always been a fantasy of mine,” he retorted. 

“Can vampires actually be smothered? I thought it was just wooden stakes and sunlight that did you in,” you smirked deviously. 

“You’re awful,” Astarion pouted, turning his head to rest in the crook of Halsin’s shoulder and neck. “At least Halsin showed an ounce of contrition.”

You heard the archdruid’s gravelly laugh as he kissed the top of Astarion’s head. “I’ve learned it goes a ways farther than verbally sparring with you,” he murmured into his silvery curls. 

“Quite right,” Astarion sniffed. “Much farther indeed, darling.”

Laughter bubbled forth from your own lips as you squeezed closer into his side and snaked an arm across his chest. 

“But where’s the fun in that?” you whispered. “Our verbal sparring often leads us three into some very interesting circumstances.”

At those words, Halsin reflexively clutched your waist harder. Astarion tensed before pushing back into your chest suggestively. You grinned fiendishly to yourself. Getting these two hot and bothered had become a specialty of yours lately. And you loved it.

“Tsk. You’re incorrigible,” Astarion grumbled, although his words were a bit breathier than they had been.

“Careful, lest you start something again,” Halsin warned. You couldn’t see him past Astarion’s head, but you could tell he was smiling just by his tone. “I’m not opposed to losing rest in order to see how this tête-à-tête ensues.” 

You chuckled darkly. “Noted. What say you, Astarion? Care to keep sparring?” The insinuation in your tone was clear. 

“Darling, you forget,” he murmured, one hand slipping down, behind him, to tug at the lacings of your breeches. His voice was muffled. You watched hungrily as he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses across the column of Halsin throat. 

“I’m always ready for a spar with you two.” 

[dollystuartwrites]

Stray Gods - Chapter 48

Pairing: Gods!OT8 x !F!Reader Genre: romance, friends to lovers, polyamory, mystery, supernatural, angst, fluff, smut Wordcount: 4897 Chapters:  [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20] [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] [31] - [32] - [33] - [34] - [35] - [36] - [37] - [38] - [39] - [40] [41] - [42] - [43] - [44] - [45] - [46] - [47] - [48] - [49] - [?] MASTERLIST Summary: With no memory of who you were, you wake up in the woods, only to be found by eight unusually handsome men. With no information of the past, the guys decide to take you in and take care of you for the time being. But that time becomes years, and as time passes, you start to notice that there is something different about them... and something different about you... Warnings: angst, praise, thigh riding, kissing, fingering, overstimulation, lovebites, bad/miscommunication, low self-esteem, swearing, name-calling, dry humping, college, degradation, gods, special powers, vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m), mentions of contraception (condoms&thepill), injuries, mentions of death (but no character deaths), virgin!reader, teasing, orgasms, poly relationship, semi-public sex, daddy kink, strength kink, grinding, I've probably forgotten some, so let me know if I did and I will add more as the story progresses.

Taglist: @eastleighsblog​​​​ @tangerminie​​​​ @swittyregan​​​​ @septicrebel​​​​ @jiimout​​​​ @zandra-42​​​​​​@julciaqwerty​​​​ @vampcharxter​​​​ @mercurezed​​ @thatgirlangelb​ @cookiemonstermusic258​​ @stayconnecteed​​ @bubblelixie​​ @smilingtokki@hash2013 @juskz Want to be added or did I miss you? Just send me an ASK or DM

Lots of love and many thanks to my current beta’s from Wattpad: rocker7898 and sydneye2411. You guys made my writing so much better <3

Sleepily, you shuffled into the kitchen, Jeongin's hands on your shoulders as he pushed you gently forward. You had done your best to convince him that you'd call in sick to uni today, but he wasn't having it.

Felix's head turned away from the furnace and he spotted you, an instant glowing smile on his face.

'You're back!' He said happily, dropping his pans and rushing over to you. Before you could even blink he wrapped his arms around you, forcing Jeongin's hands from your shoulders, and hugging you tightly.

'We've missed you,' he whispered softly into your ear with his low voice.

'Don't break her,' Jeongin grumbled, but Felix's hold on you wasn't painful. You could smell his warm homey scent, his hair and clothes already smelling like the pancakes he was making for breakfast. Being in his embrace made you want to instantly fall asleep again, lying in his arms, but a prodding finger in your back made you blink and let go.

'Hey, don't you fall asleep again, missy,' Jeongin warned. Felix let go of you and raised his brows at Jeongin. You turned around to stick your tongue out at him.

Last night, after you had taken a shower to clean up together, Jeongin had urged you to go to bed early. He reassured you that he would get your stuff and tell Seungmin he'd taken you home. You instantly objected, feeling super awkward and guilty, but Jeongin insisted and your body felt too tired to fight him on it. So eventually you gave in and laid down in his bed, falling asleep almost instantly. When you awoke again, it was already morning. Jeongin was standing beside you, nudging you softly and telling you it was time to get up and get ready for school.

'I don't want to fight Han and Lino as well,' he grumbled as he softly nudged you in the direction of a chair.

'As well, what do you mean?' you said, suddenly feeling wide awake and turning around to look at him, feeling worried. Jeongin clicked his tongue.

'Can you stop worrying for once, sit down and eat. Felix, are any of the pancakes ready yet?' He evaded your question and looked at Felix.

'Oh shit, right,' he said quickly, running back to his now slightly smoking pans and continuing his cooking.

'Innie- Seungmin- how- what did he say?' You asked nervously, sitting down on a chair but fidgeting with the hem of the shirt Jeongin lent you.

Jeongin shrugged and sat down next to you. 'He was quite busy, to be honest,' he said vaguely.

'Jeongin! Just tell me!' You said kicking him under the table. He hissed and pouted at you.

'Fine, he wasn't too happy about you leaving so suddenly, but he understood,' Jeongin began, but upon seeing your face he quickly added in a low whisper, 'He didn't seem to mind what happened too much but still, we all prefer to keep you to ourselves don't we?' he said with a shrug. You still felt uneasy about the whole situation. 'Relax,' he said, putting his hand on your knee and looking at you earnestly. 'I swear, it was fine. He was very busy and he understood you were needed back home. He just wanted me to take good care of you.'

Looking into his golden eyes, you knew he meant it. Seungmin hadn't been mad or disappointed about it and everything was alright. You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh, feeling your heart becoming at ease.

Felix started serving the two of you breakfast and after a while, Changbin came stumbling into the kitchen as well. His hair seemed a mess and the bright red roots of his hair seemed to be grown out more than ever. He yawned for a bit until he saw you. He blinked a few times, then a wide smile appeared on his face. Before you could even say or do anything he was already attacking you, bringing you into a bear hug.

'Can't breathe Binnie!' You laughed, still half a bite of pancake in your mouth as you tried to speak. He quickly let go of you, checking your face thoroughly. He apparently concluded you were well and smiling again, stroking your hair while kissing your head.

Shortly after Changbin released you and you resumed eating breakfast, a dark figure came peaking around the corner.

'Channie!' You said as a messy-haired, dark-circled Bang Chan shuffled into the kitchen sleepily. Seeing you, his eyes instantly cleared up and he smiled broadly, opening his arms for you. You ran over to him, jumping into his arms for him to hold you.

'Glad you're back babygirl,' he said, as he too nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, tickling you. You were so glad to see your boys again, even though it had only been a few days.

After you finished eating, you tried to get Felix to eat. Offering to take over the cooking instead and promising you wouldn't let anything burn this time. However, you suddenly heard footsteps again.

Minho entered the room, looking tired but already dressed in his usual suit and glasses, college professor style. He stopped in his tracks seeing you and raised his brows in surprise for a moment.

'Lino!' You said his name happily, standing up quickly from your chair. You pushed Felix in it instead and ran over to him. He hugged you back, kissing the top of your head.

'Was about time you finally came back home,' he mumbled to you. You looked up at him with a broad smile, as he smiled back at you for a moment. 'Now where are those pancakes, cuz I'm starving,' he grumbled.

'Right!' Felix said instantly, jumping up from his chair again and returning to the kitchen. Admitting defeat, you went back to your chair again and sat down, looking around the table and enjoying their handsome faces that you'd missed so much.

However, your gaze lingered on Minho for a bit. He had unusual dark circles under his eyes. You knew he often stayed up late, grading papers and preparing his next lessons, but you had rarely seen it have any effect on him.

Then suddenly you felt something. It was like someone flicked their fingers against the top of your spine. A nudge that wasn't at all friendly. Something was off. You looked at Chan, but he was a closed book. Too closed. You took a slow breath through your nose, mentally poking your Goddess to wake up. Apparently, she did because suddenly you could feel how he was purposefully closing himself off from you. You frowned, looking at Changbin. He however was an open book as always. Something was definitely wrong. You wanted to slap yourself in the face for not noticing immediately, as it was totally unlike Changbin not to talk, asking you stuff until you were blistering behind the ears. Besides your greeting, he had barely said a word and looked at you even less. You looked back at Minho and your Goddess seemed to ring an alarm. He was not just looking somewhat shabby. He was doing horribly. You could see his light, and although not dimmed down, you could see something was very wrong.

'What are you doing?' Chan suddenly asked sharply. His eyes were narrowed as he looked at you sternly again, but you ignored him, looking around the room, hoping to find any hints. Felix was looking at you suspiciously now too, his eyes narrowed as well. He looked just as worried as you felt. You pulled harder at your Goddess wanting to find an answer desperately as to what the hell was going on. Suddenly, Chan smashed his hands on the table, and you lost the link. Their lights vanished and you stared at him startled. 'Stop it!' He growled at you, looking so angry that you almost forgot yourself. For a moment you looked at him with an open mouth, then you quickly closed it again. You gave him a deadly look but you weren't going to fight with him right now.

'What is going on?' you asked Minho, who was looking confused from you to Chan and back.

'I could ask you two the same thing,' he said with a chuckle. But you weren't in for laughs right now.

'Lino, I know something is wrong,' you told him sternly, imitating Chan's tone. For just a millisecond he looked taken aback, but then he corrected himself and simply raised a brow at you, pulling a face as if he had no idea what you were talking about. 'Lino!' you said angrily, this time it was your turn to slam your hand on the table in anger. From the corner of your eye you could see Chan balling his fists and looking at the others with an expression that made you think he was talking to them telepathically, forbidding them to tell you anything. You looked at Jeongin, but he was actively avoiding eye contact while cutting the last quarter of his pancake into unnecessarily small pieces. You found Felix's eyes but he bit his lip and shook his head, forcing a badly formed smile. Annoyed, you looked over at the nervously shuffling Changbin. You could see he was at his tipping point, he wanted to tell you but knew he wasn't allowed. You looked at all of them, one by one, but none of them would break.

'Tsk,' you said, raising your chin and standing from your seat. 'I'll go find Jinnie and Hannie instead then,' you said, turning around.

'No!' all of their voices came out at the same time. Bingo. You turned around sharply.

'So something is the matter with them? Both of them?' you asked fiercely. Chan got up from his seat now too, looking at you just as angrily as you were at him.

'Lino,' he said, without looking at him, his eyes still on you as if you would run when he'd looked away, 'didn't you say you had to go to work early today? Y/n still needs a ride, I think,' he said suggestively.

'Chan I swear,' you started threateningly, before Minho could even answer, 'if you guys don't tell me what is going on right now I will... I will,' you began, looking for a good threat to use, 'I will pull on my goddess again,' you suddenly decided. You weren't sure why it pissed him off every time you did, but you knew it was something you could use.

'No,' he said, suddenly backing down. The tension that had been in his arms and shoulders dropped but a muscle in his jaw pulled still. 'No, I... We'll... Fine,' he sighed, with clenched teeth. He looked at the others but they didn't say anything. Their eyes were large and they looked slightly hesitant still. Then Felix stepped forward.

'Han...' Felix began. It was all you needed for a stone to drop into your stomach. 'Han is sick,' he said slowly.

'S-sick?' you repeated confused. 'But-but I thought you-you guys couldn't get sick?' you recalled.

Felix bit his lip and looked at Chan, as did you. His look had softened. You could see how he was trying to hide the fear in his eyes, but you knew him too well.

'We can't and we don't,' Chan said quietly. Your eyes shot to Jeongin, who was looking at you. His face instantly turned beet red.

'Why didn't you tell me?' you hissed, feeling more guilty than ever. Jeongin's face resembled a very ripe tomato.

'I got carried away, I kinda... forgot...' he muttered, looking away from you.

'I have to see him, right now,' you insisted, already turning around, ready to dash off, but Chan grabbed your hand, stopping you.

'Y/n, no wait-' he began, but you tried to shake him off.

'Get off! I have to see him! Let me go! Let me see him! Hannie!' you cried. Panic was growing inside of you. You had failed. Failed as a goddess. You hadn't been able to protect him. You should've never left him.

Frantically you tried to pull yourself loose but Chan was too strong. All the others had jumped up from their chairs now as well, running over and saying things to stop you, but you wouldn't hear it.

'-don't know what it is y/n,' you heard Minho say.

'-might be contagious,' Changbin tried to convince you. But that only made it worse. If Han was sick, you would be sick with him. You did not care, you just had to see him.

'Let her go,' a voice suddenly spoke behind you. You froze for a moment, stopping your weak attempts to break loose from Chan. You looked around to see Hyunjin standing behind you, near the stairs. He looked tired, the same dark circles under his eyes as Minho sported. But his tone was calm and his posture relaxed,his hands in his pockets.

'Hyunjin, no,' Chan objected. 'We don't know what he has, even Felix can't do anything. It's too dangerous for her!' he tried to plead. To your surprise, Hyunjin chuckled at his words.

'First of all, Felix is a veterinarian, not a human doctor, he said so himself,' Hyunjin said calmly, taking a step forward. 'And even if he was a human doctor, his expertise would still be worthless since we are not human,' he added, taking another step. You could feel Chan's grip slacken on your wrist and you quickly pulled it loose before he could recompose himself. Quickly you ran over to Hyunjin, who had already opened his arms for you, closing them around you as soon as you grabbed hold of him. 'Welcome back sugar,' he whispered, kissing your brow. You could feel Chan's angry gaze on your back, but you didn't care.

'You know,' Felix said. You turned your head to see his face. He had stepped forward now too, his expression curious and bemused. His words are not questioning.

'To be honest, this wouldn't have been as much of a problem, as it currently is if we hadn't been as careful, funnily enough,' Hyunjin said with a grim chuckle.

'Just speak for fuck's sake Jinnie,' Minho said irritably. Hyunjin sighed deeply, a flair of drama adding to the scene.

'I keep telling you all over and over again, but you never listen,' Hyunjin sighed.

'What?' Minho snapped, angrily.

'Love,' Hyunjin said the word darkly. 'Love is a dangerous thing,'

A memory flashed before your eyes. You were standing in the club where Jeongin worked at. You were on the dancefloor with Hyunjin. He was standing at arm's length away from you, his face inscrutable. His eyes bore into yours.

'You gotta be careful with love,' he said so quietly you could only just hear it. 'It can be exceptionally dangerous.' Before you could even blink again, he turned around and walked away, leaving you behind, completely bewildered.

You blinked and the vision faded away, as you looked up at him curiously. No one said anything but Hyunjin let go of you and looked at you with a soft smile.

'Come, he's waiting for you,' Hyunjin said.

Though Felix, Chan, Changbin, Jeongin, and Minho had followed you and Hyunjin to Han's room closely, they didn't protest and kept quiet. You suspected Hyunjin was talking to them telepathically. Most likely explaining to them what he wasn't to you, but you were too nervous to ask. Your heart was beating in your chest, and the stone in your stomach was still there. The feeling of immense guilt still gnawed at you as you stood in front of Han's bedroom door, Hyunjin smiling at you softly.

'We'll go in together, shall we?' Hyunjin said, taking your hand into his. A warm feeling entered you through your hand. It felt like it was flowing up through your arm and wanting to enter your mind, but there was too much worry in there to allow the feeling of love to take over. You nodded stiffly, nervously.

'It's me,' Hyunjin said as he knocked on Han's door. A muffled and far away hum sounded and Hyunjin opened the door slightly, stepping through the crack and pulling you in as well, before closing the door behind the two of you.

It was only a second, but it was all you needed. Han looked terrible. His face looked almost gray, all his color seeming to have faded from him. His normally cute chubby cheeks had disappeared, like he hadn't eaten in weeks and the dark circles underneath his eyes made Minho's look like a bad imitation. Before you could even blink, Han let out a hoarse shriek, pulling the blankets over his face and disappearing out of sight.

'Are you insane?' he tried to yell at Hyunjin, but his voice was nothing more than a hoarse whimper. The sight of Han and the sound of his unrecognizable voice made your stomach turn and tears instantly welled up in your eyes as you looked over at Hyunjin. To your surprise he simply rolled his eyes, you gawped at him. How could he put on his drama queen act right now while Han was in such a state?

'I know what is wrong with you Hannie,' he said simply, sitting down on the chair that was standing beside his bed. You stayed standing where Hyunjin had let go of you, frozen to the spot with fear.

Han mumbled something underneath the covers that you couldn't quite catch.

'That's just the problem,' Hyunjin responded to him, his voice dripping with annoyance. You gave him a deadly look, which he ignored. 'None of you ever listen to me. So for once, shut up and listen!' he ended his sentence fiercely, his eyes on you now, looking serious.

There was no response from underneath the blankets.

'Han,' Hyunjin began in a clear voice, 'you are love-sick.' For a second, there was silence, then Han threw the covers from his face, looking at Hyunjin as angrily as his haggard face allowed.

'Do not mock me,' he said with a hoarse voice. Seeing Han now, up close, it looked even worse. His green eyes were dull and his dark hair was hanging limply over his forehead. Without even realizing it yourself you clapped a hand over your mouth in shock. The movement seemed to draw his attention however and he looked over at you, his eyes full of pain as he saw you standing there with your hand before your face.

'Y/n, no- I-I never wanted you to see me like this. I told them to-to keep you away,' he whimpered weakly.

'Which is why you only became sicker,' Hyunjin said seriously. He looked over at you. 'Y/n, sweetheart, come over here,' he said softly, beckoning you to the bed. He didn't have to tell you twice. You rushed to the bed and before Han even had time to pull away, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck as you cried.

'I'm so sorry Hannie. I'm so sorry. I should've never left you. I'm a worthless goddess, I'm worthless! I'm so sorry,' you kept repeating as tears fell onto his feverish skin. You didn't care if you'd get sick as well. You didn't care if he was trying to push you away. You would never let go again. Never.

Han struggled to get you off of him, but his normally strong arms seemed to be too weak right now to push you away. His hoarse mumbles of protest were hard to make out over your sobbing words of apology and finally, he gave up. You buried your face deeper into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent as tears rolled from your eyes.

You were horrible. A horrible person. No. A horrible goddess. You had failed them.

You sat in silence as you embraced him, silent tears falling from your eyes as you continued to curse yourself in your head. You could feel Han's slow and steady heartbeat, his chest against yours.

Minutes passed and for some reason, the unusually high temperature of Han's body slowly seemed to lower. When you held him first, he felt hot, like Changbin, but now... Maybe it was simply you getting used to his heat.

You slowly let go of him, pulling back a little to look at his face.

You blinked a few times.

Was it your imagination or had he regained some of his color?

'It's not your fault y/n, it really isn't. But please leave, I beg you. We don't know what is wrong with me and for all we know it might be contagious,' Han begged you, looking at you desperately but sounding less hoarse.

'It isn't contagious,' Hyunjin said with an air of annoyance. Han looked at him destructively but Hyunjin didn't seem to care.

'Go, go now, please,' Han begged once more, giving you a soft push, away from him. You wanted to object, but to your surprise, Hyunjin got up too.

'I think this'll be enough for now,' Hyunjin said with a nod, putting his hand out for you to take. You quickly shook your head.

'I'm not leaving,' you insisted. Hyunjin sighed.

'He's going to be fine now, I promise,' Hyunjin tried to convince you but you shook your head once more.

'Baby, just go,' Han added as well, nodding and faking a smile, 'I'll be fine.' However, there was nothing that could convince you right now. There was nothing they could say to convince you to leave right now. Not in the state Han was in. Not after you had already abandoned him once, getting him sick. No way.

Hyunjin sighed and shook his head as well.

'Well, I guess you're leaving me no choice,' Hyunjin sighed. Without giving you time to even open your mouth, he was suddenly standing next to you, his arms around your body as he picked you up like you weighed nothing.

'HYUNJIN!' You yelled out, shocked. You were used to being picked up and tossed around by Changbin, Chan and lately Felix as well, but none of the others had ever done anything like this before. 'HYUNJIN!' You called out his name again, your fists hammering on his back for him to let go of you. You heard Han say something but could barely make out the words as the blood was rushing to your head. 'LET ME GO!' you called out, but it was already too late, Hyunjin was already closing the door behind him. You got a quick glimpse of the guys in the hallway, noticing that Jeongin was missing.

'I'll monitor his progress,' Felix said between your screams. You could feel Hyunjin nodding before you started pounding your fists upon his back again.

'Let me go! Let me go now! Let me go to him! Let me stay with him! Please Hyunjin!!!' You cried out, but he ignored you. The sound of another door opening and closing filled your ears and you were carefully put down on a bed. He had brought you back to your own room.

Instantly you jumped up but Hyunjin halted you.

'Sit,' he commanded. You froze. You had heard Chan using his voice of authority many times before, but never Hyunjin. Reluctantly, you sat down, looking at him angrily.

'Y/n, you gotta listen to me,' Hyunjin said seriously. You pressed your lips together in anger but listened. 'Han has love sickness,' Hyunjin said the words slowly.

'But Han said-,' you began but he cut you off.

'I know what he said but that's just because he doesn't want to believe it. But trust me, trust me on this that I am right,' Hyunjin said seriously. You didn't react but your anger disappeared and you felt yourself calm down slowly. 'Han is love sick, and the hug you gave him just now will be enough to cure him by the end of the day,' Hyunjin said. You opened your mouth in protest but once again Hyunjin cut you off. 'Trust me when I say this. Trust me that I am right. After all, have any of us ever been wrong regarding our powers before?' he asked. You thought for a second, trying to think of a moment where they made a mistake, but not finding any. You still looked at him with discontent.

'Baby,' he began in a softer tone, lowering so his face was level with yours, 'I promise you Han will get better, he just needs some time right now. Just like with a real sick person, you should drown them in the remedy but offer small doses. Besides, you heard him, he really doesn't want to see anyone right now because he is afraid,' Hyunjin said. You looked at him, wanting to protest, wanting to run back to Han and hold him more, but you didn't dare move. 'Besides, it's a school day, and you know how he'd react if you failed any of your classes,' Hyunjin chuckled with a wink. You clenched your jaw as you pushed away the last bit of you wanting to run back to Han. Slowly, you nodded.

'That's a good girl,' Hyunjin said, petting your head and smiling. 'Now I'd get ready quickly if I were you because it's already quite late,' he said with a meaningful look at the clock on your nightstand. You didn't say anything, staying seated and not moving as you tried to calm down the last bit of yourself.

'Hyunjin?' You began softly. He was already getting to the door but he stopped and turned to look at you. 'How can he be love-sick?' You asked, still not quite understanding the situation.

Hyunjin gave you a grim smile. 'None of you really ever listen to me, do you?' He sighed. 'I've told the others a thousand times, and I've told you, love should not be underestimated and can truly be a dangerous thing,' he sighed, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

[citruswriter]

Food For The Soul

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Tcest (you have been warned!), Tcest x Character, The Bale AU, Fluffy Goodness, Polyamory.

Tcestween Prompt: Food

Pairings: Mikey x The Bale

If there was anything that Mikey enjoyed more than eating food it was making food, especially for his loved ones. It was a sort of love language for him. He adored making foods for people that held special places in his heart, keeping them well fed with good, home-cooked food that he made. Scratched the turtle instincts just right.

And that's exactly what he was doing right now. Waking up early and cooking food for his bale. Mikey didn't used to be such an early riser but as years got on he found himself enjoying the quiet of the mornings more and more, his only company being the sizzling of whatever food he was cooking and the soft lofi beats that gently played through his bluetooth speaker.

This morning he was making scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh fruit salad, and fresh morning batches of tea and coffee. The spatula scraped against the pan as he made the large batch of scrambled eggs, throwing in different kinds of cheeses and spices. The bacon sizzled until it was perfect and crispy before he gently dished it up on the paper towel clad plate. Regular and chocolate chip pancakes were made and set on a platter. The sound of his cutting knife on the board as he made the fruit salad filled the air next as he tossed watermelon, strawberries, kiwi, banana, and blackberries together.

Everybody would be waking up soon, time to make beverages. Raph liked green tea with honey, Donnie would want his expensive coffee with french vanilla creamer and whipped cream, Leo would want his caramel latte with double espresso, Casey simply enjoyed cheap black coffee, and April would take a shot of espresso and a glass of orange juice.

Speaking of April... He could hear her pad in with Raph as he made his own oolong tea. "Morning, my loves." Mikey said cheerily and he was rewarded with a soft good morning from April and a kiss from Raph. Mikey handed them their drinks, Raph sipping his tea with an approving hum before he loaded his plate with pancakes and bacon.

Mikey giggled as April downed her espresso shot with a scrunch of her nose before chasing it down with a gulp of orange juice before snagging some scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit. "Thanks so much, baby." She said sleepily, kissing his cheek.

Shuffling could be heard before Leo and Casey were seen, talking softly to each other as they got food and their drinks. "This looks so good." Casey said, digging into his food. "Smells just as good." Leo mumbled, popping some bacon and fruit in his mouth.

"Where's Donnie?" Mikey questioned and Leo looked up and blinked. "Asleep in his lab, I think. He was up pretty late." Leo said and Mikey sighed, making his way up to Donnie's lab to drag the purple banded terrapin down for breakfast.

"Donnie?" Mikey called out, walking into the lab until he found his mate. He could help but chuckle softly as he found his older brother hunched over and asleep on his lap table. Gentle fingers reached up to pry his battle shell off, tracing his sensitive shell and messaging it gently, causing him to stir.

"Morning, dearest." Donnie groaned out and Mikey bent to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Morning, babes. I made breakfast. Lets get some food and coffee in you." He said softly. Donnie groaned softly and stretched before standing up, allowing Mikey to drag him to the kitchen.

"He lives!" Leo said as Donnie sat at the table, earning a snap from Donnie before he nuzzled into his twin, earning him a kiss. Mikey piled up Donnie's plate before handing his food and coffee to him. "Here you go, baby." Mikey said softly before getting up to get his own food and drink.

As the bale sat around the table, waking up and murmuring softly to each other, Mikey couldn't help but feel his heart warm. Everybody ate and drank, scrapping their plates clean and slurping down the last of their drinks, thanking Mikey before loading their dishes in the dishwasher.

As they walked away with bellies full of good food, Mikey couldn't help but sigh lovingly. What a good morning it was today...

Mikey is such a little chef so I found it only fitting that I would center this prompt around Mikey. Ik it's kind of bad but I still think it's uber cute.

Taglist: @cherrytreatsart @yallshantfindme

[nctstar]

won't you stay inside?

labyrinth | ch. 2

You were scared that after all that, there was no love left in your body, not a single shred, no matter how much you dug.

pairing: hyuckren x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: mystery-thriller, angst, romance

warnings: profanity (use of fuck, shit), polyamory, kissing, domestic disputes (reader yells and everyone is very emotional), crying, severe headaches, slight violence (reader accidentally hits someone), panic attacks, road accidents

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also don't condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. I'm not a mental health expert and don't claim to be at all, if you are struggling please find some resources to help yourself or dm me for support <3

a/n: FINALLYYY the continuation is here! i am pleased to announce that I have thought of the entire story for this fic and i am hoping that i can be somewhat consistent in updating this from now on. things have definitely picked up haha :D would love to know what people think about this <3

“Honey? You alright?” Your knuckles were turning white, tendons contracting, as if to anchor yourself post the new text message sitting in your inbox. You felt a warm hand on your hair, Renjun’s brown eyes looking into yours, infused with concern and confusion. Across from you sat Haechan, the sun hitting the back of his head and tracing a soft, angelic line around the outline of his body, eyes lightened by the same bright rays. The metal chopsticks clanked on the side of the bowl as he brought his attention to you. It was in that moment, the split second that it took for Haechan to put on that façade, that you felt like everything was wrong again.

But, as long as you stood on Earth, nothing else mattered but these two men. For them, you would ignore any oddities, any flashes of guilt or fear, anything that threatened the fragile fabric of the relationship between the three of you. You would throw that lost phone into the deepest oceans if you could, tear your eyes away, switch off your brain, just so you could wake up with your legs tangled with theirs.

You know you couldn’t do that. But that was the sacrifice you were willing to make during times like this.

The tendons in your hands loosened, blood rushing back to the tips of your fingers. You answered cooly, “Yeah. Just not used to sleeping so well.” Renjun caressed you as he did on most days, starting at the crown of your head, pressing your hair gently onto your neck, finishing off with circles between your shoulder blades. You took his other hand, grazing your lips on the soft skin, smelling like honey and sweet waffles. “You going to work today?”

Renjun sighed, Haechan’s chair grazing against the tiles as he threw his head back, letting the hair move from his forehead. “Yeah, hon. You guys will be okay, right? I could take the day off-“

“It’s alright.” Haechan flicked the handle of the sink, a steady stream of water running over his hands. Your eyes couldn’t leave the glint of the ring as he washed his heads, and you watched closely as they shook a little as he spoke. “We’ll be alright, right, baby?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” You smiled at him, tilting your head up so he could walk over and press a kiss to your nose. His breath smelt like coffee as he sighed, forehead pressed to yours, brown eyes watery and intense gazing into yours. His fingers brought your chin closer to him, letting his lips taste yours.

When he pulled away, Renjun was putting on his coat at the door. Shuffling off your high chair, you stepped up to him, taking his hands in yours. “Take…take care of yourself, okay?” He smiled, muttering cute under his breath and leaning over to kiss you twice, second time much deeper as he brought your hips flush against his. “See you tonight, my love.”

As soon as the door shut, you heard Haechan’s body and the layers of clothing he had on crinkled and rustled as he almost leapt off his chair. “So, what do you wanna do today, baby? Renjun told me you don’t have to go into work.”

You fought the frown that was forming on your forehead, uneasy at the lie that Renjun had clearly told him. I mean, was it really a lie if there was no work to begin with? “Y-yeah. Yeah, we have the day to ourselves.” You walked over to him, the smell of him growing more and more intense as you did. You sighed, looking up at his face.

He was definitely different. But he was here. And he was yours.

His hands landed on your waist and squeezed tenderly, making you wrap your arms around his body, side of your head pressing against his chest. Your heart was warm, but your brain buzzed. Your legs felt like jelly as you opened your mouth, closing it again before you couldn’t help yourself. “What…what happened to you?”

There was a flash in his eyes, something that changed at shutter speed, but it was gone before either of you could catch it. “I really don’t know. But,” he stroked a stray piece of hair away from your face as you looked up at him, trying to read him. “I remember you.”

∞

You shivered, one hand dug in the depths of your coat pocket while the other remained gloveless, allowing you to snatch hasty glances at your phone. Not a single notification. You sighed, heart pounding and ankles wobbly from the wind.

The warmth of the restaurant taunted you. Couples under muted lights, soft touches and the clanking of cutlery as they ate, time forced to stand still for these moments of tender expression. Yet here you were, stockings rubbing uncomfortably against the skin of your freshly shaved legs, nose frozen in the cold.

You fought yourself in your head before taking out your phone to type an angry text, embarrassment quickly turning into rage.

haechan

where are you? it’s freezing out here ☹

You frowned, chills settling deep in your stomach. Swallowing, you texted back.

me

I’m right here??

You paused, looking up to see the blurry outlines of the street sign move in and out of focus in the falling snow.

me

la vie?

haechan

shit.

i’m at another place.

15 minutes away.

Your body shivered once again, this time making you squat down on the side of the road. You looked around, desperate for warmth.

haechan

so sorry. there are so many french restaurants around here.

me

is that where you used to take haeun?

You regretted it as soon as you hit send, but you were biting your lip in a sudden fit of overwhelming emotion, body shaking not just from the ice falling like spikes onto your face. Your eyes welled up as you watched the read on the screen, conversation halted.

”_?”

When you looked up, a lone tear travelled down your face, and you marvelled at its ability to persevere, to not freeze over at once.

Renjun towered over you, a woman you hadn’t seen before strung on his arm. She crouched down almost immediately, placing her gloved palm on the small of your back. “Are you okay?” Her Korean rolled off her mouth with ease. You blinked, and suddenly, there was Haeun, her smile radiant, her hand warm on your back, the smell of baby powder dusting all around you.

The strange woman stared back at you, worry etched in her face. You nodded hastily, getting up before Renjun could come any closer. He tried to reach for you but you jerked away, your coat now feeling like bricks weighing your shoulders down. “I’m fine. I was just going home.” It was the stupidest and most obvious lie, but everything was too much, and you needed to leave.

“_?” Your name in the air for the second time, and you felt his arm around you before you saw his face. Haechan. You were trying to shrug him off, sudden panic and fear and guilt growing in the ends of your fingers, choking you from the outside in. His arms were gripping tighter and tighter around you, both arms wrapped around your middle, the air being squeezed out of every cell in your body. You gasped and gasped, but you felt like you were dying. Open mouth to scream, only to be met with silence, thick as honey and dread. No, no, no, STOP!

“Baby!”

You awoke with a sweaty whimper, tears soaking your face, the smell of Haechan’s body around you as your vision focused on his face. “Shh, shh…” His hands were on your face, your arms, your sides, but for a moment you were lost. Confused, like your mind had endless passageways you had never explored, and you were standing at a dead end.

“H-Hyuck?”

“Yeah, baby, right here.” His hand was warm on your skin, your hair splayed across his lap, and you were suddenly aware of the weight of your head pressing into his thighs. Shooting up, you groaned as your vision shook, heart pounding and bile creeping up your throat. “Oh, it hurts, it hurts…”

“_, you don’t look well. Let’s go to the hospital.” You shook your head. “No, no, babe, I’m fine. You’re…” you sucked in a short breath, waiting for the throbbing in your head to melt away, throb a little quieter, so your thoughts could stop screaming in your skull. “You’re here. You’re here today.”

“Yeah.” He cupped your face in both his hands, pecking you on the lips. “I am.” Hanging your hand off his lifted arm, you sighed. “Usually there’s no one here. There’s no one. And I don’t want to make Renjun come home. You know how he is. He’d stay with me forever, and then get fired.” You folded your knees and wrapped your arms around them, while Haechan chuckled, holding one of your hands in his.

“You’re right. He would baby you for an entire week.”

“Like he doesn’t already.” You rolled your eyes in exaggeration, but images of Renjun in your brain penetrated your heart like a drug, and you thought of his hands that smelt like waffles, his hips when they rubbed against yours this morning.

“He loves you. So much. I can tell.”

“I love him more, Hyuck.” You thought of Renjun towering over you, the strange woman hanging off his arm, the way you yanked your arm away.

Why?

“Did you, wanna talk about it? Your dream, I mean.” You shook your head before you even registered that you were, as if your brain was working in spite of your thoughts. “I don’t really like to recall nightmares honestly. They’re usually stupid anyway.” Haechan hummed, you feeling the soft fabric of his freshly laundered shirt against your cheek as scooched over, nestling in his body. You traced lines on his arms, studying the moles that peppered his skin. You pecked where your head rested against his body, the detergent smell filling all the passageways in the maze of your brain.

You spent most of the day in his arms, in and out of dreamless slumbers and in between noises of the TV and the smell of lunch, and bungeoppang Haechan got for you after you whined about the scent driving you crazy.

As you bit into the soft bread, the hot red bean paste scalding the roof of your mouth, Haechan spoke. “So, this one is Lorelai.” You giggled. “Yeah, baby, according to literally all the other characters.”

“And that’s her daughter, right?” You both watched Lorelai and Rory shove indulgent amounts of fast food into their mouths, scattered over the coffee table as they made themselves comfortable on the couch. You nodded, engrossed in the dialogue. Haechan toyed with a few strands of your hair absentmindedly. The sky was now painting itself in shades of lilac and pink and deep orange, the temperature cooling with the remains of the day.

“She reminds me of you.”

“Haven’t heard that for the first time.” You chewed, the flavours feeling euphoric in your mouth. “God, I really needed this.”

“Me or the bungeoppang?” You both laughed in sync with the mother and daughter duo on the TV, and all four of you knew the answer.

The sound of the keys jangling had you shoving the rest of the treat in your mouth, leaping off the couch to run to the door. Haechan laughed, standing up after you, leftover chip crumbs falling to the floor.

“Tadaima!” It was a silly inside joke between you and Renjun, born after watching a lot of Japanese romantic movies and TV shows that Haechan found cringe, but the both of you, being hopeless romantics, pored over on slow weekday evenings.

“Hey, _.” As soon as the sound of your name hit your ears, you knew something was up.

Renjun looked lost in thought, and, as you looked into his face, you noticed the black shadows around his eyes, flickering across his face as if taunting you for not noticing them before.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You started to shake involuntarily, and he took your hands in yours, momentarily snapping out of his daze to try and comfort you.

You were getting déjà vu. The night that Renjun came home to tell you Haechan had gone missing, the moments before had played out exactly like this.

“Renjun.” Haechan’s voice was so stern, so much so it…confused you. Before you could turn around, Renjun stroked your cheek, willing your attention to him. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. For not believing you, for keeping this a secret-“

“Keeping wha-“ Before you could even think to process it all, Haechan lunged past you, standing between you and Renjun, a physical block that you would have never expected. You moved to the side, studying the way Haechan’s eyes glinted with desperation, anger, and Renjun looking back apologetically. Your heart was sinking, your legs feeling like jelly, the familiar feeling of losing your grip on reality taking over all of your senses.

“What the fuck is going on?” Your voice wobbled, making both men turn to you. Haechan walked over, grabbing your shoulders, bending over to kiss your cheek. “I have to go.” The smell of the bungeoppang was still in the air, and you were thinking about how cruel the universe was, to line the edges of your nightmare with the sweet smell of something so delicate, so delicious, so special to you.

“What?” You could hardly believe it, but Renjun’s silence said it all. You stepped away, and Renjun’s eyes widened. “Honey, please-“

“No, fuck you both!” Your eyes were brimming with tears. You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your shaky body, the volume of your voice. “Why are you keeping shit from me? Don’t I mean anything to you?” The raspy whispers came out like a blunt knife, more painful as time stretched in front of you. Words were flying out of your mouth, and there was a small voice in the back of your head begging you to stop before it was too late. “Why, what happened to us?” You were sobbing now, and Renjun stepped forward, but you held up your hands, pushing the invisible barrier between the both of you towards him. “Don’t touch me right now. I just, I need…” you doubled over, your chest tightening, and you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe at all, just like in the dream, with his arms squeezing the life out of you-

“Honey? Are you alright? Oh my god…” You felt Renjun’s arms around you, and in a panic, you stumbled away, hitting him in the face. Your eyes watered, watching the bruise bloom across his tender features, the split second where he hesitated before stepping towards you. “Renjun, fuck…” your words slurred, tears streaming down your face as the apartment was shrouded in the darkness of dusk. “I’m a fucking monster. You don’t deserve me.” You swallowed your tears, and you watched as Renjun’s face crumbled, a mix of fear and sadness drawn across his skin. Behind you, you heard Haechan sniffle, and you heard him say, “I’m gonna fix this, I promise. I love you so much.”

The last thing you remember was your front door slamming, the same one that had opened 24 hours ago, complete with the sound of your lover yelling that he was finally home, finally, after an entire year. The same one that you had embraced your lover in front of, kissing him with all the love you had to spare, pulling your body towards him so that he could feel you, all of you. You were scared that after all that, there was no love left in your body, not a single shred, no matter how much you dug.

Your feet were slapping across the tarmac, and you could hear Renjun’s voice yelling behind you, pleading with you. His voice began to fade as you ran across the street, took a few twists and turns, running like a madwoman with no sense of direction. Eventually, you were forced to slow as your vision turned blurry, the streetlights and headlights turning into blobs of red, yellow and green. In the midst of it all, your head had started pounding until it reached a peak, throbbing harder than ever had before, so hard you clutched your hair with both fists, groaning audibly. You heard a few gasps and murmurs of surprise, a few passerbys vocalising their concern near your ears.

“Miss, miss? You alright?” “Someone call…” All you could think about for a moment was the thing, the thing with a gazillion passageways in your head, and you were there. You were standing there. There was a light, and it was growing brighter and brighter, glowing like the sun, hot like the sun. But you thought for a second that it didn’t matter, that you were lost anyway, even if the light grew stronger, even in the moments when you thought you could see it all.

That’s when you opened your eyes, and the woman on the sidewalk screamed as the headlights of the bungeoppang truck headed straight towards you.

[ur-sick-and-married]

BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

PART 2 (Christmas special)

READ PART 1

(Lucy Dacus x Julien Baker x reader)

TW: suggestive, polyamory

SUMMARY: after being snowed in with two girls, you face the aftermath of hooking up with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I want to write a part 3 honestly…

-----------------------------------------

You woke up slowly. It felt so comfortable and safe wherever you were, you didn’t want to get up. Eventually, the smell of coffee and the sound of book pages being turned interested you.

You stretched, groaning softly at the sore spots in your body. The previous night rushed back to you then, waking you up entirely.

“Are you awake?”

You turned, and saw Lucy on her side of the bed, watching you. She had a book in her lap, which explained the rustling.

“I’m awake.” You muttered, rolling onto your back.

“Morning, then…” She smiled. “Julien’s getting breakfast. Flights have been rescheduled. You’ll be home in time for Christmas Eve.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” You whispered.

Their actions made you grateful, yet confused. They were acting as if you were all in a happy relationship. You’d hooked up…nothing less, nothing more.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Julien said when she walked in the room. “I thought you were never gonna wake up. I made a Dunkin run while you were still snoring. Road’s cleared up.”

She handed you a cup of hot coffee, and a small breakfast sandwich. She handed the same to Lucy, then sat at the bottom of the bed, a coffee of her own in hand. She’d already eaten.

Even being as uneasy as you were, you ate. The night’s activities left you starving.

“How’d you sleep?” Lucy asked.

“Good.” You said between bites. You weren’t lying. You slept surprisingly well. It was nice with the two of them.

“How are you feeling?” Julien said.

“Good.” You repeated.

They watched you eat for a moment, quiet. Eventually, moved closer to you on the bed.

“What’s going on?” She whispered.

You took a breath, hoping your voice wouldn’t shake as you spoke. “What…is this?”

“What?” They said in unison, confused.

“One minute you’re driving me somewhere,” You answered. “Then we’re hooking up on a random couch, and now you’re, like…taking care of me.”

Your words tumbled out, barely giving you a second to breathe. You’d never been treated so well, it was almost overwhelming.

“Hold on, hold on.” Julien stammered. “Breathe.”

You ducked in a breath, watching her. Lucy also moved closer, and took your hand. Julien squeezed your leg.

“What did you expect us to do? Ditch you on the couch?” Lucy said, teasing, trying to make you feel better.

“Kind of.” You mumbled.

“We can back off, if you want.” Julien whispered. “We just don’t want you to feel…used.”

“That’s really why you’re doing this?” You asked.

“Of course.” She nodded. “It’s aftercare, sweetheart.”

It was silent again. Lucy sipped her coffee.

“Was this really just a hookup?” You suddenly spoke.

Lucy swallowed hard, and shot a loot at Julien, who nodded enough for her to see.

“Listen…” Lucy started, giving your hand a squeeze. “It can be…whatever. It could be a one time thing or there could be more. We can…view this as an opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” You muttered.

“We all enjoyed last night, yes?” Julien said.

All three of you nodded. You blushed at the memories.

“So…if you want more of-“ Julien gestured to herself then her partner. “We’re open.”

“Okay…” You nodded. “Noted.”

You have them both a small, sincere smile.

“For now, our focus is Christmas,” Lucy added. “But after the holidays, we’ll talk.”

“Alright.” You agreed. You were good with this plan.

Once you finished your coffee, you took a shower, then got ready. Your flight would now be earlier. You’d get home when your family was awake.

It had stopped snowing, so driving was easy. Julien drove the whole way, since the car journey was shorter than originally expected.

Shockingly, it wasn’t awkward. You all chatted, even laughed at times.

It was like nothing changed, even though everything had.

[ramp-it-up]

Bar All Else

Pairing: Barkeep!Andy Barber x Reader x Barkeep! Frank (Endings, Beginnings)

Summary: Its Endgame for you three.

Part 12 of The Bar AU. This happens right after Good Morning.

Word count: 5K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S/MUT! Read at your own risk. This has Everything: Angst, fluff, family holiday, coming out, polyamory, mlm. PWP, digital p, double p, anal, extreme oral, boys kissing, degradation kink, fun in the shower, praise kink, proposal in a home under construction (I had to do it.)

A/N: Please heed the warnings. Remember, feedback is gold. Let me know what you think!

I no longer have a tag list. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

The next morning, afternoon really, Andy and Frank somehow untangled themselves from you and were busy in the kitchen, making food that smelled divine. You sat up, stretched, and smiled, your body deliciously sore from the night’s, and morning’s activities.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thoughts running through your mind as you heard their soft murmuring from the other room. They were trying not to wake you, even though it was one o’clock in the afternoon. 

Doubts plagued your mind. Could you actually have both of them, could you be committed to two men? Did they really want a future with you, or just sex?

You chewed your lip and began to overthink as you took a quick shower and dressed in one of Andy’s flannels. You caught Frank and Andy smiling at each other over coffee as you padded into the kitchen.

“...Morning…”

Your voice was timid, shy even, and as they looked over and took you in, you were blushing as if you three hadn’t shared the most intimate acts a few hours ago.

“Good morning, Baby Doll.” 

Frank smiled at you and moved to come and kiss you on your forehead. You smiled up at him, basking in the warmth he gave you. Andy took you in wearing his shirt and in Frank’s arms, and his heart picked up pace.

How could a sight be more perfect? He moved toward you.

“Morning, Sweetheart. Did you rest well?”

You embraced Andy with your other arm, beaming up at him. 

“I slept like a rock. I was tired out for some reason.”

You winked up at him and smirked at Frank, realizing that this situation was definitely really happening.

“Hmmmm.”

Andy took your shoulders in his hands and looked at your face, concerned, as Frank moved to dish up the food.

“Are you alright? We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

Andy was terrified at this moment. You saw the fear in his eyes and stood on tiptoe to peck his lips.

“I feel divine, well used, and satisfied. For now. Daddy.”

Andy exhaled and pulled you into him, eyes darkening. You could feel him thicken through his sweatpants.

“And we aim to keep you that way…”

Andy stared down at you, thinking that you really were a goddess. 

Frank cleared his throat behind you. 

“But first, let’s eat.” 

You raised your eyebrow over your shoulder at your other lover.

“Food, Baby Doll,” Frank intoned.

You giggled as Andy swept you off your feet and onto a barstool.

“What do you want, Baby Doll? An omelet, or French toast with bacon?”

You looked between the two men, eyes twinkling.

“Who says I can’t have both?”

You spent the lazy Sunday afternoon watching movies and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. Frank and Andy lavished attention, food, and water on you, making sure that you were alright. They didn’t want you to bolt again. You sensed their anxiety.

But you couldn’t stay in denial all day.

Andy was reading with your head in his lap, and Frank was massaging your feet at 7:02 pm as you scrolled your phone you let them have the truth.

“Guys…”

They both looked at you.

“I gotta go home. I have to go to work in the morning.”

Frank’s face fell and you looked up to see that Andy’s mirrored his. You sat up.

“I know. It’s been a beautiful weekend, but if I stay here, I would never want to leave. And we all have jobs. Time to go back to the real world.”

“This could be the real world, Baby Doll…”

You cocked your head at Frank and Andy spoke before you could ask your question.

“What he means is that we’d like to book you every Saturday night for the foreseeable future, Sweetheart.”

Andy and Frank shared a look as your heart melted. 

“And maybe a couple of nights during the week?”

Frank’s voice was hopeful. You thought this was going fast, but hell, you had wasted enough time. You smiled at them. 

“That sounds real nice.”

Your heart warmed as both of your men kissed you on the cheek. It was so pure. You all stood up they watched as you went into the bedroom to grab some of Andy’s sweats and the rest of your things. They had their heads together when you came out, but stopped and led the way to take you home. This time, when they took you home, you let them into your small apartment and it seemed that they filled up every available space. It was after 8 pm and you already felt lonely, although they were still there.

“I have something to tell you.”

Frank stood up straight, and Andy clenched his jaw, as if they were bracing form something. You were glad that you’d waited until you got home, or they would not have let you leave.

“I love you. I love you both.”

You felt hands on your waist, pulling you between them in your small living room. You peered into the ocean blue eyes in front of you.

“Say it again. Say that you love me.”

“I love you Frank.” 

You smiled up at him, realizing it was the first time.

“Fuck, I love you too, Baby Doll.”

You kissed him, pressing your body full length against his. Andy was right there bedside you. You reached for him while you were kissing Frank. When Frank released you, you turned and kissed Andy.

“And I love you, Andy”

“Fuck, I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. You know that,”

You kissed Andy tenderly. Then you leaned against the doorframe to your bedroom as they stood on either side of you. You felt like a rabbit in a wolves’ den, about to be devoured. The tension was thick but no one moved.

“So, what’s the rest of your night look like?”

Andy’s voice was gruff as he eyed your small bed. His mind was whirling with possibilities. Frank’s warmth behind you had you weak. 

“I-I was going to take a nice, hot bath. And then go to bed. I usually get up at 6:30 to go to the gym, but…”

“You’ve had your workout already?”

Andy had that look in his eye. You gulped. Frank’s hands were on your arms as the goosebumps rose on your skin.

“It’s just the thought of you, wet in the bath, wet with sweat. I need your liquid on my tongue…”

Frank had a way with words, and his satin voice in your ear had you trembling.

“And we know you’re probably sore.. So you don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

Andy’s voice was a little bit desperate. As if he hadn’t had you and Frank a few hours before. He was insatiable.

“We just need to taste you again…see you cum…hear you tell us that you love us some more…” 

Frank was practically begging. You felt so powerful. You stepped away from them to catch your breath. You shook your head. These boys were dangerous, looking like every girl’s fantasy.

“Well. My bed is small. But my shower is pretty huge. And since I’m already wet… why don’t you join me?”

You said this as you left a trail of the clothes you were wearing on the floor. Andy and Frank followed suit, all three of you naked as you greedily reached for one another under the hot spray of your showerhead.

Andy and Frank left you softly snoring in your small double bed that night, satisfied that they had sufficiently put you to sleep. You dreamed of them all night long.

You awoke to the sweetest Good Morning texts from them in the group chat. Despite your physical reminder of the weekend’s activities, you felt amazing and ready to conquer the week.

Your friends at work only smiled and winked at you, all except for Tia, who wanted all the details. You told her a little, but not everything, and all of your people supported you. 

This really could be a thing, you thought.

For the next three weeks, you lived in a blissful bubble, dating Frank and Andy separately one night a week each, and going as far as heavy petting with each individually. You saved the good good for the weekend when you were all together, and it was only then that you let yourself fully succumb.

When the weekend before Thanksgiving rolled around, you felt guilty for having plans to go home.

“It’s okay, Baby Doll. It’s only for a few days.”

You looked at Andy across the room as Frank held you in his arms. From the way your bearded lover clenched his jaw, you knew he didn’t like it, but he’d never admit it.

“He’s right Sweetheart, you’ll be back in no time. Remember that we love you.”

“And I love you both, too.”

The train ride home gave you time to think. You actually felt like you were leaving your real family behind in Boston. You wanted Frank and Andy. For as long as they wanted you, and you weren’t ashamed of it. You had to tell your family because you weren’t going to hide.

At Thanksgiving dinner, you kept peeking at your phone and smiling into your lap. God, you missed your two sweethearts. You answered the question of who you were texting when your mother asked. It was a big hit at the dinner table. The room erupted into scandalized expressions of fear and hate, but your mother surprised you when she defended you.

“Shut the hell up! She’s a smart girl, I mean woman. I don’t think she would be with someone who didn’t treat her right, now would you?” 

You stared at the person you thought would kick you out of the house when you told her, a lump in your throat.

You shook your head and smiled. 

“No, ma’am.” 

“And two good men? Tuh.  Let me know if you find any more.”

Your mother winked at you and then asked for someone to pass the mashed potatoes. 

After a heart to heart while cleaning up the kitchen that night, you floated off to sleep on a cloud of hope and possibilities, and when you boarded the train back to Boston, you were excited for an unnamed reason. 

You were greeted at the train station by Andy and Frank.

“Hey Sweetheart.”

Andy smiled at you and gave you a chaste kiss and hug.

“Baby Doll!”

Frank gave you a bear hug and twirled you around before he put you down.

You told them you were exhausted from traveling and they offered to take you to Andy’s place, promising to just hold you and be good. You just smiled and nodded, wanting to spend time with them.

The fireplace was on and the guys had started putting up Christmas decorations, including a new buffalo plaid throw over the back of Andy’s huge couch.

“Well this is cozy!”

You murmured as you took your jacket and scarf off and revealed a low cut thin pink cashmere sweater and jeans. 

Frank noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra and Andy’s eyes went to the tight jeans. They gave each other a look.

You went to the kitchen island to get out the popcorn popper.

“Let’s watch a scary movie!”

Frank and Andy hung back, watching you and your body move in the kitchen. They whispered to each other, remembering that you were tired.

“She’s trying to kill us.”

“No question.”

“Be strong.”

“Yes.”

“What are you guys mumbling about?

You turned around with the bowl of popcorn, bringing some kernels to your mouth, that Ruby Woo making your lips pop, especially when you sucked the butter off your fingers.

“I’m gonna get thirsty. Got anything I can drink?”

You looked up at them with those tits in that sweater and those lips and…

“You want water or spirits?” 

Andy cleared his throat and moved behind the island.

“Mmmmmm. Water.”

“So fucking cute, Baby Doll.”

“Thank you Frank.”

You batted your eyes at him as Andy handed you the ice water. You grabbed it with a smile and a kiss on his cheek, then moved to the couch with your goodies. Frank looked at your lip prints on Andy’s jaw and his silly look on his face and was jealous for an instant.

Frank reclined on the sofa, toeing his shoes off and putting his feet up on the coffee table while Andy got the movie ready to go. You sat next on Frank, but upright.

Frank patted the cushion beside him.

”Don’t you want to relax, Baby Doll?” 

You smiled and just crossed your legs, indicating your pink high heeled boots. Frank’s kryptonite..

“My shoes. Don’t want to get the couch dirty.” 

Frank licked his lips and started sweating as Andy shook his head. Frank was on his knees in an instant.

“Let me.”

You smiled, leaned back arching your spine and presenting your foot. The action made your breasts poke through your sweater and Andy squirmed. Watching Frank slowly and delicately take your shoes off didn’t make his pants any looser.

Frank was now wearing his own silly grin as he took his place beside you and you scooted next to him, curling your feet under you.

Andy cleared his throat.

“Are we ready?”

You nodded and smiled at him. And then Frank. This felt so good. You were content, wedged between your darling men, until the jump scares started, and then you were frightened, turning and hiding your face in Frank’s shirt, leg thrown over his. Andy wasn’t mad, because at this point, you were giving him all the ass. He slid closer to you and Frank and placed the throw over all three of you. And you fell asleep between the two people who were very likely to be the loves of your life.

Andy and Frank took you to brunch the next day, and to look at the unfinished condo space next to The Bar. The energy changed as you walked into the unfinished space, and as you looked between them, you saw excitement dancing in their eyes. The smell of raw wood and plaster invaded your senses and your heart rate rose. You got excited as well for all of the potential around you.  They both watched you as you slowly turned around, taking in the structure, which was basically an open concept for the entire floor, except for a couple of rooms roughed out on one end.

“We have about another month to finish the drywall, painting, and finishes.”

“Wow! This would be a great space for entertaining!”

Andy and Frank gave each other a look before Andy spoke.

“That’s what we were thinking.” 

“We’d have a little bar, and a kitchenette over here to help with food, and then open space for a table and mingling. This would be the guest suite for visitors.” 

Andy motioned to the roughed-out rooms.

Your smile slipped a little.

“What?” 

Frank picked up on your cues so well.

“Well… It’s your space, I was just thinking…” 

You looked at them.

 “I’ll just shut up. That sounds nice.”

“No, Sweetheart, ‘d Love your input.”

Frank spoke up.

“Yeah. The woman’s touch.”

You smiled at them, grinning again. 

“Well, I think the kitchenette and bar should be over there, it will improve the flow and allow space for more seating over here.”

“That’s an amazing idea. And you’re absolutely right.”  

Andy looked at Frank.  

“Why didn’t we think of that?”

Frank smirked at him. “Because we’re idiots.”

“True.” 

Andy smiled at him and then held his hand out to you.

“Let’s look at the rest of the space.”

You smiled and took Andy’s hand and followed him up the stairs, with Frank trailing behind you.

You emerged into another open space, but with a wall of windows on one side.

“This will be the more informal living space, with a movie screen there with more comfortable seating,” Frank pointed to a blank wall, “and the chefs kitchen over there.”

“I like that, and then whoever is prepping food, or if both of you are prepping, you can still see the screen.  You will have shades, automatic, I hope?”  

You looked at Andy and Frank.

“Both of us prepping food?” 

Andy moved closer to you, coming behind you and clasping you around the waist, lowering his head to brush your neck with his lips. 

“So you will have us cooking for you all the time?”  

You allowed yourself to fall into his embrace and hummed, inhaling the spice of his cologne for a minute until you really heard what he’d said. You hadn’t realized that you had closed your eyes until you opened them to see Frank staring at you with a silly look on his face.

“Wait, what?”  

You turned out of Andy’s grasp as Frank went and stood beside him.

“Before you freak out, there’s another floor.” 

Frank grabbed your hand this time.

“But…”

He ignored you as he led you up the stairs. You three came out on the third floor which had several walls for rooms constructed. They led you through three rooms of about the same size with two rooms off of each, and then a fourth, larger than the rest, with one semi-large room connected to it.

“What is all this?” 

Your heart was beating fast at the implication of what was happening.

“These are bedrooms, three with closets and en suites, and one with just an en suite bathroom.”

Frank indicated the largest room. You looked at them and went in to inspect the large room. It had a huge window and the bathroom was a very good size.

“We want the largest bed they make in here,” Andy looked at you as he spoke.

“One big enough for three people,” Frank responded.

Your mouth dropped open.

“And in the bathroom, a huge jetted tub,” Frank continued.

“One big enough for three people.” Andy looked so sincere. 

You were floored.

“Ummmm. So four bedrooms for how many people?”

“Three. We figured that individuals might want your privacy at times. But there might be times when we’d all agree to be together.”  

Andy was definitely nervous now. But you thought about what he said about the big bed.

“So these three people might all sleep together, or sleep separately?”

“Or maybe two would sleep together if one wants to be alone?” 

Frank’s voice made you turn toward him. 

“We didn’t want anyone forced to be in a shared space.”

They thought of everything.

“Sounds like an interesting arrangement.” 

You went to the window and looked out over Boston Harbor. It would be a beautiful view to wake up to. And to do it in between two beautiful men would be an added bonus.

You heard Andy’s voice next.

“And when children come, we can get a house out in the country, with lots of land for them to run around.”

You gasped and turned back to them to see the space where they had been empty. You looked down to see Andy and Frank both down on one knee. 

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Your hands were up around your mouth, and you didn’t know if you were breathing. This couldn’t be what you thought it was.

“What exactly are you two asking me?”

Frank spoke next.

“When you went to spend the holiday with your family, we decided that we couldn’t let another come and go without telling you how much we both want a family with you.”

You looked away from Frank to Andy, whose eyes tried to hold yours, but you couldn’t get caught up. Your eyes darted around the unfinished room. Everything was happening so fast.

Andy, then Frank reached into their pockets and brought out two rings, seemingly odd pear shaped diamonds in gold bands.

“We know it seems like a short time since we got back together, but we wanted to do this last year.”

The men looked at each other, and then back at you. Then, in perfect tandem, they said:

“Y/N Y/LN, will you marry us?”

You mouth was hinged open as you stared at them.

“You are the woman of my dreams, Baby Doll.”

“I can’t imagine life without you, Sweetheart.”

The blood was rushing in your ears and you opened your mouth.

Suddenly everything stopped and you yelled, “Yes! Hell yes I will marry you!”

You were in shock at what you’d just said as Frank and Andy both picked you up. Then they put you down and placed both rings on your hand, Andy’s first, and then Frank’s.  When they were both on your hand, the two diamonds formed a heart. Suddenly, the view was blurry.

“Oh my gosh. Andy! Frank!”

You looked up at them with tears falling down your face.

“Is this really happening?”

“You bet your ass, Baby Doll.” 

Frank beamed down at you as he kissed you.

“Absolutely, Sweetheart. You’re stuck with us. Both.”

“For life,” you said, smiling at both your men. 

Suddenly the energy changed. 

“Let’s go back to my place. To celebrate. With champagne.”

The look on Andy’s face made you shiver as you remembered your last encounter with Moët in the storeroom. Frank remembered watching that encounter on the camera, and you thought of that as you looked at him, remembering his confessions you over the last few weeks.

“Let’s go.”

You were more than ready.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that your men were trying to get you tipsy. You were on your third glass of bubbly while you admired your ring on the couch as both men’s hands were up your shirt and they marked up your neck. You giggled, until Frank thrust his hand down your jeans, parting the thick lips of your cunt as Andy took over teasing both breasts.

“Oh.. oooohhh. Yes, Daddy. Pinch them harder.”

You arched your back as Andy did as you requested and Frank thrust two fingers inside you. You rode Frank’s fingers as Andy leaned down to minister to your nipples, sucking and licking them with an urgency.

“Missed you while you were away. So much.”

“It was just a couple of days, Silly.”

You laughed at your serious fiancé.

“Any time away from you is an eternity, Baby Doll.”

Frank leaned up to kiss you while he fingered you, then pulled Andy’s head up to slip his tongue into his mouth.

You came on Frank’s hand as you watched the two men kiss. They pulled apart, panting and staring at each other. Then they turned their eyes on you. They stood up as you did and watched you take off your pullover and watched as you unbuttoned your jeans and peeled them down your legs, showing them your perfect bottom.

“Can I have you both?”

“What a question.”

Frank chuckled and started undressing, watching Andy stroke himself outside of his pants as he watched both you you.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Andy slowly undressed as he watched you reach for Frank to come around the back of the couch which you were facing. You leaned over and kitten licked his tip as the younger man threw his head back. Once naked, Andy came behind you and stroked your hair, running his hand down your spine, causing you to give him that arch. You looked behind you as you stroked Frank’s rigid cock.

“Stop teasing the man and give him your throat.”

You watched Andy get on his knees and start stroking himself as he parted your lips. Frank turned your head back around and painted your lips with his precum before shoving his cock in your mouth, filling your airway with his flesh. You moaned around him as Andy’s tongue licked you from clit to ass, inserting his tongue in every crevice. He played with your nub like taffy and had you, and by proxy Frank, on edge in no time.

You watched Andy and Frank on the bed kissing passionately. You got wet just watching them, it was so hot. Their cocks were so hard. Your heart started beating faster as you climbed on the bed, the kiss between them becoming a three-way. All three of your tongues met and danced. Soon, Andy and Frank broke away and their lips, tongues, and hands traveled to your neck, your ear, your breasts, or any sensitive part of your body that they knew so well. You knew you’d never experience such intense sensations than having these men’s hands and mouths on you.

Frank detached himself and lay back on the bed, his hard cock waving in the air. You moved to touch him, but he stopped you, grabbing your hand and pulling you up toward him.

“On my face Baby Doll. Need to taste you.”

Frank turned you around so that you faced his cock, and you climbed on carefully as he roughly pulled you down on his mouth. His tongue started doing unspeakable things to you and your eyes closed before they opened at the sound of another mouth slurping. You opened your eyes to see Andy licking and sucking Frank’s cock while staring at you. That powerful feeling returned and you took your nipples in your hand and teased them as you shivered on Frank’s lips and tongue.

“That’s it, Sweetheart. Ride his face.”

You obeyed and pulled your nipples harder as you watched Andy cause Frank to moan into your cunt.

“How does it taste, Andy?”

He pulled off with a pop. 

“So good.”

Andy grinned at you.

“Wanna share?”

You smiled back and leaned over to tongue kiss Andy around Frank’s cock, causing him to come up for air and smack your ass as he groaned.

“Holy Fuck, that’s good!”

You start handling Frank’s balls and he started panting into your cunt.

“Fuck!”  

He breathed and went back in for more, inserting fingers to get what he wanted.

When you came on his tongue, Frank yelled at his own release, deep down Andy’s throat. After he recovered, he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, so that your ass was almost hanging off. He got behind you, took your legs and spread them wide, holding them open for Andy, who was panting and feral, watching the scene.

“Don’t just stare, Andrew!”

Andy took his cock and lined it up, looking up to watch your face as he slid in. He sheathed himself to hilt and you keened as you felt him pounding inside you.

“Oh Andyyyyyy!”

“Fuck! You got me about to come already. So gotdamn tight. Fits like a glove.”

He looked up at Frank.

“You don’t understand how good this feels…”

“The fuck I don’t. Feels amazing. Fucking you is a close second.”

You watched as Frank leaned over and grabbed Andy by the back of the neck and kissed him

“Fuckkkk!”

You moaned as your pussy got wetter at that sight and convulsed around Andy’s cock. He looked down at you, lips wet from the kiss.

“You like that?” 

Andy hissed as he started fucking into you slowly. Frank reached down and rubbed your nipples.

“You like to see your boys together?”

“Yesssss.”

Frank pulled Andy’s hair and kissed him again.

“Fuck. So hot.”

“Squeezing me like a vice, Sweetheart.”

“Make her cum on your cock, Baby.”

Frank held you down and open for Andy.

“I know how you like to run, so be a good girl and take it.”

Andy started snapping his hips harder, watching your face as Frank talked you through it, how you bit your lip when he twisted first one nipple, then the other. Before you knew it, Andy was pounding you ferociously as Frank spoke praise in your ear.

“Good girl, taking that pounding like a fucking champ. Your our cum hungry little cumslut, arent you? How bout you cum on Andy’s cock without anybody touching your clit, Beautiful Baby Doll. Then I can clean both of you up.”

“Oh Goddddddd!” 

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you exploded around Andy’s dick. Two sets of hands held you down to take it. Andy pounded you out and groaned as Frank did the same to him.

“Fuck, can’t… hold it.” 

“Give it to us, Baby. Soak that clit for me.

Andy pulled out and fisted himself over you, literally growling as he spurted all over your cunt. Your chest heaved as you and Frank both stuck your tongues out to catch some of Andy’s spend. 

“Suck a fucking good girl for us.”

Frank sucked the remaining cum off of Andy’s softening cock and then went to town on you as Andy rolled on his back beside you.

Andy looked at you and smiled at your half lidded eyes as Frank started feasting on your sloppy pussy.

He pulled your face toward him roughly.

“Look at me when our fiancé is eating you out.” 

His deep voice rumbled through you and met Frank’s moans as he lapped you up.

You whimpered, “Yes Daddy.”

Andy fondled your tits and then wrapped his hand around your throat at the same time Frank wrapped his lips around your clit to suck. It was insane how in sync they were.

Your back bowed as Frank sucked a massive orgasm out of you, and you swore you blacked out, because the next thing you knew, you were being lifted into the shower, and lovingly washed by two sets of hands. 

“I love you Frank. Love you Andy. I love you so much.”

“Love you too Baby Doll. Love you to the moon, Sweetheart. Now just relax.”

You were exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep between your future husbands, secure in the knowledge that barring anything, you would have love and security for the rest of your life.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Magnolia - Chapter Fifteen

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional Tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape and Mutilation, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Smut

A/N: Tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

Sometimes she forgets.

Sometimes it slips her mind that Satoru and Suguru are not just ordinary men; that they are vampires, fueled by the consumption of blood and granted with superhuman strength and speed.

She remembers though, at times like this: when one second she is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the two of them on the other side of the room… and the next second, in the blink of an eye, Satoru is standing right in front of her, his tall frame hovering over her and his presence filling all the space in her personal bubble.

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Chapter Warnings: Blood, references to hunting animals.

A/N: Look y'all, two in a row. Thanks for reading. :)

Chapter Fifteen: The Thirst of Infinite Desire

By now, she’s used to the strong, coppery scent of blood. 

She can smell it on them when they come back in. It lingers on their skin, on their clothes, in the air. 

It doesn’t bother her as much now. She’s grown accustomed to it, would even venture to say that it’s something she associates with those two.

It’s almost a comfort. 

“How was hunting?” She asks, watching Satoru brush his bangs off of his forehead as Suguru locks the door behind them. 

“Good,” Satoru tells her, casually. “You should come with us sometime.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just for fun,” he answers. “It’d be like us going to the grocery store with you.”

It shouldn’t make her laugh - because she doesn’t think he means it as a joke - but she does anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

Satoru shrugs. “This isn’t news.” 

Suguru watches the exchange silently, a fond smile curling his lips. 

Satoru crosses the room to where Lia is in just a few strides. “Are you planning on changing before we go out?”

Puzzled, Lia looks up at him. “Am I supposed to?”

Satoru’s expression gives away his answer before his mouth does. “I’m not going out with you when you’re wearing that.”

She can hear Suguru’s soft sigh, but he doesn’t say anything. In the eight months since the three of them have been cohabiting this house together, he has learned to let Lia fight her own Satoru battles. She’s gotten fairly good at knowing which ones she can win and which ones she can’t, and the ones she wins are usually the ones Suguru doesn’t interfere with. 

It’s quite pleasant for him, seeing how well she handles Satoru now that she’s comfortable with him. 

“Why not?” She asks, looking down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” 

“You look like a funeral director,” Satoru answers bluntly. “We’re going dancing, Lia… it’s not a wake.”

She’s only mildly offended; after all, she owns very few clothes that would be suitable for anything other than lounging around the house, and any argument to the contrary would fall flat in the face of Satoru’s inherent knack for knowing what’s stylish. 

This time, she heaves the soft sigh. “These are the fanciest clothes I own, Satoru. Besides, who’s going to be looking at me?”

“I am,” he says. He says it in such a matter-of-fact way. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Suguru. “I swear, you’re two of the prettiest people I’ve ever met, but without me you’d both probably live in hoodies and sweats.”

“I personally don’t see anything wrong with living in hoodies and sweats,” Suguru interjects. 

“Just… Wait here.” That's all Satoru says before he disappears upstairs, and Lia and Suguru are left to share a quizzical glance.

They aren’t left wondering for long; Satoru returns shortly with his arms full of hangers. There are clothes draped on each of the hangers, and Lia watches curiously as he lays those clothes flat on the coffee table. “The sizing might be slightly off on some of these, but that isn’t my fault,” he starts. “It’s hard to gauge your shape when you’re always wearing baggy shit.”

Her brow furrows as she looks at the clothes. “What are these?”

“Dresses I bought for you,” Satoru says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to have done. “So pick one you like and put it on so I can see it.”

Just for a split second, she considers refusing his request. But one look at the dresses and she realizes that she doesn’t actually want to refuse. After all, Satoru knows fashion. If he thinks she’ll look good in one (or all) of them, the chances are that he’s right. 

“Fine,” she concedes with another sigh. 

“Good girl.”

--

And once the thirst of infinite desire Possessed me like a fever, and I said, “I want to feel all radiance, fragrance, fire And joy of life within me, to inspire My soul forever!” And the faerie maid Called me to follow her, and when she spoke It was as if a harp to the soft stroke Of loving hands had wakened suddenly: She syllabled hope’s language, calling me. -Ruben Dario, Autumnal (excerpt)

--

She chooses the shimmery blue one, telling herself that it’s because of the way the color compliments her skin and not because it reminds her of Satoru’s eyes. 

“Well damn,” he says, when she descends the stairs. He looks over his shoulder at Suguru, who is leaning against the kitchen door jamb. “Am I good, or what?” He looks back at Lia. “So… you chose the blue one, huh?”

Well. She should have known better than to think he wouldn’t notice. “It goes well with my skin tone,” she offers. 

“Mmhm.” He gives her a knowing look, and Suguru stifles a snort. It makes her face flush; neither of these men are stupid.

“Anyway, shouldn’t the two of you be getting ready?” She points out, redirecting the conversation and staving off the chance for any follow-up questions about why she chose the color she chose. “If I can’t go dressed like a funeral director, you’re not allowed to go covered in the scent of blood.”

Sometimes she forgets. 

Sometimes it slips her mind that Satoru and Suguru are not just ordinary men; that they are vampires, fueled by the consumption of blood and granted with superhuman strength and speed. 

She remembers though, at times like this: when one second she is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the two of them on the other side of the room… and the next second, in the blink of an eye, Satoru is standing right in front of her, his tall frame hovering over her and his presence filling all the space in her personal bubble. 

“What, you don’t like the scent of blood?” He’s grinning at her, hands braced on either side of the bannister rails, his arms caging her in. She is used to this, him being so close. It’s just the way Satoru is… invading personal space, comfortable with casual touching, his presence always slightly intruding. 

Before, it would have bothered her.

But now, it makes those things she feels harder to ignore. He’s close enough for her to smell the aforementioned scent of blood, but beneath it there is also the unmistakable scent of him… a scent she has become familiar with, a scent that sparks something in her that is dangerously close to the feeling she knows as desire. 

Satoru knows it, and he’s aware that she knows it, too.

Suguru watches the exchange from his place in the kitchen doorway. He’s no stranger to the effect that Satoru has on people, men and women alike. Satoru is magnetic, charismatic, and appealing. Suguru has watched something develop between those two for the past eight months, something that started as a tiny bud and has blossomed over time into a bigger, more noticeable bouquet of feelings.

Lia looks up, up, up at Satoru’s face. She marvels once more at how the fabric of the dress she chose really does perfectly match the blue of his eyes. Absently she wonders why she isn’t surprised at what she sees in those eyes of his, why it doesn’t make her want to run to her bedroom and bury herself under the covers, out of his sight. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she says quietly, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.

Satoru’s line of sight follows the movement, his gaze falling on her mouth. “So you do like it?” He asks, his voice low.

He isn’t even touching her, but his gaze holds so much weight that it almost feels like a physical caress. It drives all coherent thought out of her head and warms something low in the pit of her stomach… loosens her tongue and her inhibitions. She wonders if he possesses some sort of magic, or if it is just him being him that makes her feel this way. “Only on you.”

Her response seems to please him. “Hm,” he murmurs thoughtfully, leaning back slightly without lowering his arms. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he adds after a moment. He reaches out, flashing her a grin and running his thumb along her bottom lip before moving past her to ascend the stairs. “Suguru,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the bedroom, “we should get ready… our princess has been waiting for us long enough, don’t you think?”

Our princess? She looks at Suguru. He crosses the room at a leisurely pace, his smile gentle as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I would ask you if you’re surprised,” he starts, “but you’re not… are you?”

Even with him speaking so vaguely, Lia knows what he means. “No, not really,” she admits. “His face doesn’t really hide anything.”

It makes him laugh. “It doesn’t,” he agrees. Sobering up, he looks closely at her. “And what about you?”

Once again, she knows him well enough to know what he’s asking without him having to say it directly. “Would it bother you if… if I told you it was something I’ve been wanting for a while now?”

He laughs again. “Why would it? I didn’t want you to think we weren’t interested, but I haven’t asked you because I figured you’d want some time to figure out if it was something you wanted.” He shakes his head, still smiling. “But to hear you say it now? Well… I can’t deny that it makes me happy.” 

With that, he moves past her. “We’ll be ready before long, Princess,” he laughs, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

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Chapter Sixteen: Coming Soon

Tag list: @therealestpussyeater

[tavtime]

What the Harvest Hopes For

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: M Chapter: 1/? Words: 6.5k Ships: Astarion/Tav, Shadowheart/Tav, Halsin/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Karlach/Tav, Wyll/Tav, Gale/Tav, others tba

Additional Tags: Polyamory, Novelization, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, others tba

Summary: There is nothing like impending doom to make you realize how casually the powerful play dice with the lives of the small. Unfortunately for them, Sura Tav has decided she doesn't appreciate being used as currency, and she is no longer playing.

Read below, or on AO3

---------------

There were worse ways for terminal freefall to end. Sura was certain she should be able to find it in herself—once she recovered from the shock of being gently dropped on her head in the sand, rather than having it dashed across the beach—to appreciate that. 

It took a moment.  

At least this place felt like the material plane. Prior to today, she’d had experience with no other, but unfortunately she now found herself in a position of some expertise. The ground under her palms was crumbly sand where she pushed herself up onto hands and knees, and the light, though it made her squint, was bright midmorning sun; it held none of the sickly quality of the fires of the Hells. The slate-blue water lapping at the shore before her smelled faintly of iron, the ores of distant hills. Was she lucky enough for this be the Chionthar? Or one of its many tributaries? Gods above, where was she? 

The dizziness of falling passed. In its wake a throbbing remained in the back of her skull that was worrying, but manageable. The reek of smoke and scorched flesh focused her attention, and she looked around. Nothing was familiar. A ranger’s first steps, then: seek a vantage point, take the measure of her position and resources.  

The still-burning nautiloid loomed over and above her. The carcass of the vast gutted beast had strewn itself over the landscape in hideous tableau, limbs still twitching out their death across the rocky shore. 

From further up the beach came the sound of moaning. Her hand went to her hip. Good: she had her hunting blade, still in its sheath, as well as the pack she wore strapped across her hip. Her abductors hadn’t bothered to disarm her. Had that been simple arrogance, or something more sinister? Mind flayers fought like the aberrations they were, with tooth and tentacle and brutality. She was abruptly grateful to still have need of her knife... for however long that would last.  

The parasite behind her eye squirmed at the thought. Nausea rolled over her. She shook herself of it, and pressed on. 

Past a lump of smouldering tentacle half again her height and breadth lay a body. The half-elven woman with the long plait of black hair, who had fought so ably aboard the ship, was the source of the sounds. Caught at the edge of consciousness, her fingers still clenched tightly around her many-sided trinket. What name had she given, again? Little more than an hour had elapsed since Sura had prised her from that pod... though it felt much longer. 

Sura saw no immediate evidence of injury. She nudged the woman by the shoulder. “Shadowheart, was it? Can you hear me? Say something, if you’re able.” 

Without warning the woman sat bolt upright. Sura jerked back, one well-honed reflex away from being headbutted.  

“Whhh...” Shadowheart groaned. Her hand flew to a pack of her own at her belt. She nestled her artefact inside before buckling it closed.  

Sura extended a hand. Rather than taking it, she instead grasped Sura’s forearm, braced herself, and staggered to her feet. She took a moment to steady herself. Then she tilted her chin up, and met Sura’s eyes.  

“You survived? I... I survived? How? Did—” 

a thrumming between them. This woman’s terror, crawling behind her ribs, and crawling between Sura’s own, the fear of fire and the fall and the long long high howl of wind in her ears, the rapid approach of the ground and the promise of oblivion... and then the stop, and the sand, and then nothing—nothing—  

The channel that had opened between them clamped shut. Whether she herself was responsible, or the stranger, Sura couldn’t have said. Perhaps both. 

“—uuugh,” Shadowheart said. She shuddered. “By the Hells, that is unpleasant. We need to find a healer, and get these things out of our heads. Immediately.” 

“Agreed.” Sura spied a shield stuck into the nearby sand. She recognized it as the one Shadowheart had wielded before. Two long strides brought her to it. She tugged it free, and handed it to her. “And shelter and food, for preference. Arming ourselves wouldn’t go amiss. The bastards left me my knife, so that’s something. I don’t know how well I’ll hold up to another fight, but we can buy ourselves time to run, should the need arise.” 

Shadowheart’s mouth quirked. “Don’t sell yourself short. Back on that ship, you put a bolt between the eyes of that fiend without pausing to aim. It was... impressive.” 

Sura shrugged. It would have been more impressive if she’d been able to keep hold of her pilfered crossbow. Her blade’s bone handle was a comforting weight in her palm, and she was relieved to have it. But before she was almost anything else, she was an archer. The lack of a ranged weapon chafed. 

Farther up the coastline she could make out the scraggling edge of a forest. A ridge of terraced cliffs rose away from the water, and walking paths cut the treeline at irregular intervals to the north. Her heels itched to make for high ground, and the cover the trees would offer. It was also as likely a direction as any in which to search for help. The two of them began to pick their way along the beach, eyes alternately scanning the ground for bodies, living or dead, and the skies for threats. 

“If you see any kind of bow or bolts, pick them up,” Sura said over her shoulder. She knelt at the side of a human man’s corpse, eyes wide and glassy, seeing nothing. His pockets yielded nothing, but a travelers’ pack was half crushed beneath his weight. She rolled the body over, and stripped him of it. It proved a boon: she found a handful of gold within, a large and handsomely embossed leather drinking flask, and a wrapped loaf of hard bread. She slung it over her shoulder. “You’re trained in melee, correct? You had a mace before.” 

Shadowheart raised one eyebrow, but nodded. “Yes. I’ll take anything you can find. I can shoot as well, if I need to. And I’m no sorcerer, but I can work enough magic to tend to simple injuries. Or fight.” She knelt next to another corpse, a dwarven woman who had suffered burns all down one side of her body. Her eyes closed for a moment, and her lips moved silently. Her hand hovered over a face that might once have been beautiful, but was now little more than a twisted, molten ruin. She closed the woman’s one remaining eye. Then reality reasserted itself over piety, and her hands dug into still-intact pockets. 

They moved on. By the end of the beach they’d secured a second pack for Shadowheart, and a battered but serviceable longsword. They took it off a man who, judging by the quality of his plate, must have been a guard of some kind. Arming and provisioning themselves was one matter, but both shied from undressing the dead; the man had lived his final moments in that armor. Regardless of what other use they might have been able to put it to, their unspoken consensus was that to strip him of it was an indignity too far. 

The day had not yet quite made highsun by the time they reached the treeline. Near the shattered body of the nautiloid lay a ruin, mouldering into the hill. A temple, if what remained of the architecture was anything to go by. The forest had long since begun the slow process of digesting it with root and rot. Still, the air around the place hung heavy with remnant magic. It reached out to Sura, the taste of it almost familiar; it prickled beckoning fingers over her skin.  

Come, she thought she felt it ask of her, a whisper in her mind. Come.  

Any other day—but not this day. She turned her back on the place with regret. If she lived long enough, she might see her way to returning, but for now, her priorities had to lie elsewhere. 

Past the temple, the beach melted into steep, rocky outcroppings that marched up into the forest. Shadowheart’s eyes picked an uneasy trail up into the sundered body of the great ship. “We’ll have to turn inland. Unless you have a way to scale the cliff face you’re keen to share?” 

Sura tipped her head back, studying the cliffs. “I might make it on my own,” she replied. “Maybe. Couldn’t bring you with me.” 

“What, really?” She cast a critical eye over first the rocks, then the looming ranger. “You don’t, by chance, have a mountain goat anywhere in your ancestry?” 

A bark of laughter. “I said maybe. I might also fall to my death. That’d be at least as helpful as leaving my sole ally behind with only her complaints for company.” 

Shadowheart snorted. She turned to look at the ship again, her face somewhat less pinched. “I suppose there’s nothing for it. We’ll need to cut through.” 

“Keep an eye for anything useful... or suspicious. Drop back if you see movement.” 

“Indeed.” 

Down the facing side of the ship, a crack split the creaking hull as though it were no more substantial than torn parchment. They crept inside, blades in hand, eyes darting into corners shadowed or lit by flickering fire. Shadowheart followed at Sura's heels. She noted, with no small amount of pleasure, that her new companion watched where she stepped, and chose the same careful places to let her feet fall. 

The githyanki with their dragons had rent the ship at the seams. Overhead, the sticky, fleshy walls were torn open, a wound that showed the sky. Sense-memory came over her, all at once, unbidden and unwelcome—the rotten meat texture of those walls under her hands. The pod that entrapped her had been more maw than metal, wet and ravenous. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She bit her tongue; tasted blood. Behind her, Shadowheart gave an audible gag. Their eyes met in a moment of shared revulsion: she’d felt it, too.  

Sura forced a breath out between her teeth. She refocused her eyes on the corridor ahead and whispered, “Do you think anyone else will have made it?” 

“It’s possible?” Shadowheart likewise focused ahead, keeping her voice low, her feet moving. “I don’t know how we survived, yet here we are. If it had been just me, it might’ve...” She trailed off. Shook her head. “Whatever protected us surely did so for a reason. It may well be that we aren’t the only ones.” 

“You didn’t happen to see which way our gith friend went, by chance?” 

Shadowheart’s face regained its pinched expression; she looked as though she’d bitten into a lemon. It was, Sura mused, unexpectedly endearing. “I wouldn’t call her a friend so quickly. If she lived, it seems she’s moved on without us.” 

Sura inclined her head. “She may have done.” The githyanki had certainly been eager enough to charge forward, once she’d oriented herself to the direction “forward” lay. 

A hand on her shoulder. Sura turned to find Shadowheart pulled up short.  

“And yet you didn’t.” 

“I didn’t what?” 

“Move on. Without me.” She worried at the corner of her lip, then said, “I know it would have been easier to leave me in that pod. To leave me behind. You didn’t do that. I simply... thank you. That’s all. It means something, that you risked that for a stranger. I won’t forget it.” 

Sura nodded, once, in acknowledgement. When she didn’t offer anything further, Shadowheart resumed her place at her shoulder, and they crept forward again.  

-------------------- 

During its descent, the ship had cracked into fore and aft sections. They exited the lower section to the west, and found themselves on a wilderness trail that wound in one direction down to a rotting dock, and in the other up along a ridge that would take them through the upper portion of the ship. The fork that trailed down to the dock was short, and at the end of it they discovered a cache of fishers’ supplies—as well as the corpses of several unlucky fishers. With as much respect as possible, given the circumstances, they made quick work unburdening the dead of their possessions. 

“Poor bastards,” Sura said. She squatted at the foot of the dock. Shadowheart stood over the bodies, reciting under her breath what Sura could only assume were clerics’ rites for the departed. “How many people do you think were just... here? Wrong place, wrong time, worst day of your life?” 

“I don’t want to imagine.” She turned. “What have we got?” 

Sura sighed.  

“We’ll be able to feed ourselves tonight, at least. Another flask for water—here.” She handed it over; Shadowheart stowed it in her pack. “A pair of daggers, at least one of which might sell for a respectable price, and a handful of gold. A few odds and ends. We might beg a bargain with a half-decent healer... if we can find one.” She tapped her own bag at her hip. “Beyond that, I have a roll of cloth for bandaging. Needles and thread. Pocket whetstone. You’re welcome to any of it.” 

“And your knife.” 

Sura drew the blade from its sheath at her hip. It glinted in the afternoon sun, a long smile of silver and bone well-worn to the contours of her hand. She examined it for a moment. “And my knife. Which you aren’t—welcome to, that is to say. No offense intended.” 

She thought she felt a flicker of something like approval pass between them. Shadowheart nodded. “Noted. And understood.” 

“And you?” Sura asked. She gestured at the pouch strapped to Shadowheart’s belt. “Did you start this day with anything useful in your pockets?” 

Shadowheart’s hand hovered over the buckle that held the pouch closed. “Not—no. Nothing worth mentioning.” 

“Understood.” Sura returned her nod. Then she stood, hefting her pack onto her back once more.  

They resumed their trek up the ridgeline. The soil shifted less underfoot as they gained elevation. Shadowheart kept her place a few steps to the rear. Sura scouted ahead, eyes sharp, ears sharp. 

Twenty paces off from where the trail leveled out atop the hill, her arm shot out, barring the way. She fell back on her heels, and felt Shadowheart still behind her.  

“There’s a man,” she murmured. “Look. Side of the trail, near the bushes.” 

“I see him. What do you think? Friendly?” 

She was saved having to answer when the man turned and spotted them. He was an elf, well-groomed but clearly out of his element. He had an insalubrious pallor obvious even from this distance, though whether it was due to injury, illness, or simply his natural coloring, she couldn’t decide. He seemed to have been—washed out, somehow. Or faded. Like a painting left too long in the sun. 

“You there!” He cried. The accent was Baldurian, and oppressively upper-crust. The kind of accent that unfailingly commissioned her most illegal, most expensive jobs. He waved at her. “Over here! I need help!” 

His voice and posture betrayed no insincerity. They approached warily. Neither of them lowered their blades. 

“What do you need?” Sura asked.  

The man pointed into the underbrush. “There’s one of those brain things in there. With the legs? Horrid.” His lip curled. He shuddered. “You’re armed, and seem competent. You must kill it! Before it gets away!” 

Further in, the brush rustled. “Move back,” she muttered. She stalked past him, her feet silent on the rocks.  

One step. Two. All at once there came an undignified squeal. A boar crashed out of the underbrush, legs wheeling, wild with fear. It careened off along the trail back in the direction they had come. In her surprise she fell back half a step. It was for this reason, and this reason alone, that she saw the swing of steel an instant before it flashed toward her neck.  

On instinct, she dropped her weight onto her back heel, and sent the other foot sweeping out to kick at his knees. She had several inches of height working to her advantage, and she was muscled where he was lean. It should’ve been enough to upend him without dignity into the dirt. But he was fast —gods, he was fast. Much more so than she anticipated. And stronger than he looked; a fact that became apparent when he grappled her to the ground and pinned her, arm like an iron bar across her chest and a dagger putting dangerous pressure under her jaw. 

Sura went still. Her eyes rolled up to meet Shadowheart’s, who had dropped into a combat stance and stood frozen, watching. Sura offered her a slow blink. It was met with confusion, a stitching of eyebrows; then her brow smoothed out. She felt a push in her mind, gentler than before. Wait? Shadowheart seemed to be asking her. 

Wait.  

“Stay back,” said the man. Her eyes swiveled toward his face, as much as she was able; she saw him grinning, and not at her. She heard Shadowheart scoff. “Unless you’d like this to get messy.” 

“I need her alive,” Shadowheart snarled. “If you’d like to see messy, I’ll gladly oblige you.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he cooed. His attention refocused. “And now, my dear, if you’d be so good as to answer a few questions. Honestly, please! I’d hate to be forced to mar such beautiful skin. Nod, if you would.” 

Barely breathing, Sura nodded. 

He shifted his weight against her back. He was strong, but now that he was faced with keeping her pinned, the position was taxing for him to maintain. She thought she might be able to leverage her height advantage against him. She just needed the right moment.  

“You were on the ship, weren’t you? You and your testy companion.” 

Sura nodded. Gently, she pressed her heel into the dirt. Yes, there was leverage there. If she could just... 

“Excellent.” His voice took on a new sharpness. “Then you’re going to tell me what in the nine Hells you and those tentacled freaks have done to—” 

His arm convulsed. Distantly, she heard Shadowheart cry out. A roar and swell of pain broke behind her eyes. It overwhelmed even the sensation of the blade nicking her throat. Like a membrane rupturing, what was between them fell away: 

fear is what he lives, and consumes; fear is what he is, dark nightstalking roaming fear in the dark, restless wicked, often dull often bright, never freer than in the dark—never freer than in the dirt—daystalking stranger in the dirt and has taken—will give—will be made to give—NO  

Sura took her moment. She planted her right heel in the rocky soil and the palm of her left hand against his shoulder, and shoved. They fell apart at right angles to each other. The connection between them severed. Sura leapt to her feet and spun, knife drawn. 

The man clutched his head. His eyes clenched shut. “Gods below, what was that? I saw...” He hesitated. “I saw myself, through you. And through you, as well.” 

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes. “As we would’ve explained, given a friendlier introduction, we appear to share a common problem. We were abducted and infected with parasites, as you were.” 

The man’s eyes flickered between the two of them. Slowly, deliberately, Sura lowered her knife.  

With a flicker of wrist and blade, the man followed suit. He didn’t so much smile as smirk. She was beginning to think it might be the resting expression of his face. “So you were taken, just as I was? And here I was, ready to impale you upon the sharp end of a dreadful suspicion. It seems I must apologize.” 

“It couldn’t hurt,” Sura agreed, mildly.  

“It might,” Shadowheart muttered under her breath.  

It was as though a switch had flipped. His prior viciousness dispelled; his voice and posture were all easy charm. “My name is Astarion, and I humbly beg your forgiveness. I’ve had a rather trying day. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those monsters snatched me up. I must admit, I was not what you’d call prepared for it.” 

“I... understand that, I suppose.” 

“And isn’t it nice to be understood? Now that we’ve greeted each other in such an intimate—if, admittedly, unorthodox—fashion, might I have the honor of knowing your name?” 

“Tav.” 

“Is that a surname, or...?” 

She narrowed her eyes. She felt blood bead on the skin of her neck, seep into the high collar of her jerkin. “It’s what you can call me.” 

To his credit, he didn’t flinch. “As you like, of course. And you, my lady?” 

The answering silence stretched out for so long that Sura wondered if she might not answer at all. Eventually, though, she did. “Shadowheart.” 

“Splendid! Somehow I get the feeling it suits you quite well.” 

Sura choked on a laugh, which she surreptitiously hid behind her hand.  

“Now that we’re all on a more level footing, tell me: do you know anything about our shared conundrum?” 

“The worms are mind flayer parasites,” Shadowheart replied. She watched his face closely as she said it. “We have to find a way to be rid of them as soon as possible. Otherwise, we’re all going to... change.” 

He looked taken aback. “Change?” 

Sura nodded. “We’ll transform. Into them. Illithids.” 

Astarion’s eyes went wide with shock. Out of nowhere, he broke into laughter. It surprised her. The sound wasn’t a happy one, and it tapered off as quickly as it started.  

“Of course we will,” he sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.” 

“We’re going to find a healer, if we can. Or someone with more knowledge of these things.” Sura looked him over once more, and came to a decision. She extended a hand. “We’ll do better together until we understand what we’re dealing with. What do you think? Willing to go our way?” 

He stared at her hand for a space of seconds. Then he took it, and she noted the startling coolness of his skin, which she mentally filed away for later contemplation. He fell into step beside her, and they started up the path again. Shadowheart trailed him, still radiating suspicion. 

“Do you have any idea where we are?” 

“None, I’m afraid,” he replied. “I’m not even sure how I’m still standing, to be frank. One moment I was plummeting to what should have been an inelegant demise, and the next—the next I was flat on my back. I can’t say how it happened, although it seems to have come out in my favor just the same.” 

“There’s a lot of that going around.” 

“So I gather.” 

Shadowheart chimed in. “Before we found you, we were heading for higher ground. If the use these trails have seen is any indicator, there’s a settlement of some kind nearby. We’ve been gathering what supplies we find to hand as we go. You should do likewise.” 

Astarion considered this. “Canny. Healers with the skills we seek don’t work for free. And here I am without my coin purse. Ah, well! There’s always someone else’s to be had, if one is determined.” He grinned. 

“Do you have anything useful to hand?” Sura asked. The blood had begun to dry at her collar, and she flaked it off idly with a fingernail as she walked. “No need to ask if you’re armed.” 

His eyes tracked the movement of her hand. “Unfortunately not. I’m only lucky disaster caught me fully clothed.” 

“Aren’t we all,” Shadowheart deadpanned. 

-------------------- 

The upper segment of the ship had fared better, structurally speaking, than the lower one. Sura’s instincts told her this did not bode well. Upon finding a gap in the walls large enough to squeeze through, she was almost immediately proven correct. They had barely set foot inside when half a dozen intellect devourers swarmed down at them from an unseen hideaway somewhere far above.  

Sura’s blade minnowed through the air, quicksilver slices. While she dropped two of the putrid things, Shadowheart thrust her blade directly through a fourth. At her left elbow Astarion moved in a blur. A second dagger appeared in his hands, twin to the first, from out of Gods only knew where. The fourth and fifth brains died under his onslaught of slices in seconds. 

A cry from her right. Sura and Astarion turned as one. 

Taking advantage of the chaos, the sixth brain had skittered up the wall, and pounced. Shadowheart caught it, and it was all she could do to hold it out at arm’s length. Tentacles wormed out from it, entrapping her arms, as it tried to drag itself toward her face. 

no no no, forgive me, my Lady, not like this, please, not like this  

Sura’s knees buckled under the force of it. She was in Shadowheart’s head, again, or Shadowheart was in hers, panic icing her joints and screaming in her veins. Ghosts of tentacles wrapped her wrists. A cry that wasn’t her own echoed in her mouth. 

The moment fractured. From the corner of her eye she saw Astarion plunge a dagger deep into the meat of the brain. Sura wrenched the dying abomination free from Shadowheart’s grasp and heaved it away. It hit the wall with a grotesque squelch, and fell to the floor in a pulpy heap. 

For a moment there was only labored breath and the crackle of fire. Shadowheart picked up her sword, eyes shuttered. Sura nodded at Astarion. He raised a questioning eyebrow.  

The connection between them throbbed in her mind, luminescent in some indefinable way that had little to do with sight or tactile sensation. It called to her; compelled her to worry at it, like a loose tooth. What was it capable of, she wondered, when not pulled to the fore of her awareness under duress? And so, experimentally, she poked at it.  

Holding his gaze, she constructed a thought: well executed. She pushed it toward him along that tether, the idea of the words and the heft of emotion, the adrenaline and satisfaction of a hunt successfully shared. 

He visibly startled. His shoulders flinched in on themselves, and his knuckles whitened around the hilts of his daggers. But then he relaxed once more, with effort that she could not see written in his posture but could feel echo back along the bond between their minds. Something else followed it, too, much more deliberate: curiosity, pleasure, and a thank you. 

Maintaining the link wasn’t difficult. Just the opposite, in fact. Closing it once it had been opened felt a little like trying to swim upstream against a strong current. The parasites seemed to crave interconnection. Was that usual, for mind flayers? She supposed it must be.  

With an effort of will, she forced the link closed, and turned away from Astarion. Shadowheart had hurried on ahead, and called back to them, “Come on. I can see a way through.” 

-------------------- 

“What,” Shadowheart bit out, “is that.” 

That, as far as Sura could tell, was a problem—for somebody, anyway. Whether she should make it her problem was a question she was still weighing.  

The rock face ahead bore a waypoint sigil, of the kind commonly used by travelers in rural areas as fixed points for magical or mundane reckoning. Ordinarily these were placid, imperturbable enchantments intended to be reliable over a span of centuries. This one’s behavior, however, was anything but calm: it hissed and roiled, stray wisps of Weave swirling palpably in orbit around it. As if the sigil’s behavior weren’t enough of a deterrent for anyone with a functioning set of survival instincts, a hand and forearm protruded from its center, groping for purchase. 

Sura gave an embittered sigh. It looked like a trap.  

She shouldered the others behind her. “Hello?” she asked tentatively, keeping well back, out of reach of the hand.  

“Oh, thank the gods!” came the reply. It was a man’s voice. He echoed, as though he were calling up from the bottom of a well. “Erm, I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a predicament. I don’t suppose you could... er, give me a hand, as it were?” 

“Depends. What will you do once I pull you out of there?” 

“Nothing untoward, I assure you!” He gave a shaky laugh. In his position—whatever exactly his position was, she was a little unclear on this point—she expected she’d be none too calm, either. “I am but a traveler who has made a minor, albeit unfortunate, miscalculation. Upon my life, I swear I mean you no ill intent. Now please—help a fellow out?” 

“Do you make a habit of this kind of thing?” Astarion asked her. He was keeping well back, she noted, and offering precisely nothing in the way of help. “Intervening in the troubles of passers-by?” 

“Are you complaining that I stopped to help you when you asked?” 

His pursed lips gave no answer. He rolled his eyes. 

“Right, then.” She grabbed the outstretched palm with her own, and braced her feet. “One, two, three—oof.” 

With no great amount of grace, a man popped free of the wall. The momentum sent her sprawling back, and he landed in her lap in a mess of flailing arms and rumpled indigo cloth. They lay there, momentarily stunned, until she shoved at him and, one after the other, staggered upright.  

“Well, that was a better landing than I’d any right to hope for,” he mused. 

She raised a brow at him. 

“Ah, not that I meant—I mean, you’re quite comfortable—but that wasn’t—anyway!” His cheeks flushed, but he carried on. “Apologies. I’m Gale of Waterdeep, wizard, at your service. And you are... wait. I know you.” 

“... excuse me?” 

“Well, in a manner of speaking. You were on the ship as well! I clearly recall seeing you. You rather stand out.” 

“He’s not wrong,” Shadowheart said. “It’s the hair. Is it always that shade of copper, or...?” 

“It’s a bit more than the hair, darling,” Astarion murmured. “Have you ever seen an elf so remarkably...” He made a show of looking her over, letting his eyes travel very slowly from her feet to her head. “... statuesque?” 

Sura crossed her arms, straightened, and loomed down at him. With good posture, she had half a head on him; it was very effective. “Half-elf, thank you. If you’re quite finished.” 

He grinned. 

“Ahem,” Gale cleared his throat. “As I was saying. Since we were likewise unwilling guests of our repellent hosts, am I correct in assuming you were also treated to a most unwelcome insertion in the, er, ocular region?” 

The worm wriggled behind her eye. She grimaced. “Unfortunately.” 

“Are you aware of what fate this spells out for us, precisely? Our impending short, painful future of hideous transformation, then to become decidedly more tentacle-ridden?” 

“You seem to know a great deal about our situation.” 

“I am a man of broad studies,” he replied. “Which is why I can assure you, with some confidence, that it would behoove us to do all in our power to avert this fate. It will be... unpleasant... for us, should we fail.” 

Shadowheart stepped up beside her. “We’re looking for a healer. You don’t happen to know where we could find one?” 

Gale shook his head. “I do not. I don’t even really know where we are. But as I fell from the ship I did catch a glimpse of what looked like camp smoke—to the northeast, I believe? Hard to keep track when you’re plummeting to your demise. But it’s the only place I can think to start.” He hesitated. “I don’t suppose you’d like a helping hand in your search? Our goals are in alignment, after all. It may pay dividends to split our burden between us.” 

Underneath the verbosity, he was nervous. Sura could all but see his pulse in his throat, the dilation of his pupils. She glanced at the others. Astarion pointedly studied his nails, but he voiced no objection. Shadowheart met her eyes and nodded.  

She extended her hand to him again. He tripped over himself in his eagerness to grasp it.  

-------------------- 

Over Gale’s nattering, which had shown no sign of abating as they walked, the lack of birdsong ahead was her first clue that something was wrong. She noticed it seconds before she noticed the shouting: two strident voices raised in argument, neither of which she recognized. 

Shadowheart and Astarion heard it when she did. Shadowheart’s hand clamped onto Gale’s shoulder, and he too fell silent. “Something up ahead,” she said quietly.  

Sura strode to the front of the group once more.  

In a clearing between yawning trees, a pair of tieflings were in the midst of a spectacular row. Suspended from the sagging branches above them, Sura recognized the githyanki warrior who had earlier come to her aid. In Sura’s admittedly limited experience reading gith body language, even from where she was standing, the tension in the woman’s shoulders and fists expressed barely-restrained rage.  

“Leave it for the goblins to kill!” shouted the female tiefling to her partner, a man who might, for the resemblance between them, have been her brother. “Come on, Damays, it’s dangerous, let’s just—” 

“You heard Zorru!” he shot back. “These things slaughtered our kin without a second thought. What if it gets loose? Think, Nymessa! If it turns up at camp with a hoard of goblins at its back, what then?!” 

“You can’t seriously expect me to—oh! Hello.” 

The pair turned to face her, wary. The man—Damays—pushed himself in front of his companion. Sura ambled forward, palms open, smiling and friendly. “Well met! Were you here when that ship crashed? Hell of a thing.” 

Her tone and easy smile had the intended effect: they eased back, temporarily mollified. Damays said, “We did. It rattled our camp; we came to check it out. Found this thing”—he motioned to the cage in which the githyanki swung above them—“unconscious nearby. We’re were, ah, having a friendly disagreement about what to do next.” 

From the cage the woman’s eyes bore down at her. The parasite churned in her head. A psychic channel opened again, though this time the sensation of connection was... precise, almost elegant, done with something like confidence, or practice:  

Get me down. NOW.  

The gith woman’s voice rang through her, clear as the city bells that clanged out the dawn. Behind her, she felt more than heard her new friends flinch. They were held aloft; interconnected with, and within, each other.  

Sura pushed back. Give me a moment to get these people out of here.  

The woman fumed. Every second you waste, the parasite consumes more of us. We have no time—  

With an effort of will, Sura closed the connection. 

“I have some experience with—these creatures,” she said, crossing her arms. “Your friend is right, they’re dangerous. Leave her to me. I’ll deal with it.” 

Damays considered her. “What do you plan to do with her?” 

Sura pulled her knife from her belt, and casually began to pick at her thumbnail with the tip. She shrugged. “Friendly chat.” 

The man looked like he was on the verge of arguing, but then thought better of it. With a sigh, he said, “Better you than us, I suppose. Thanks.” 

“No problem. You should clear out while you can. That crash’ll attract scavengers soon enough, and I don’t mean animals.” 

Behind him, Nymessa tugged at her friend’s wrist. “She’s right and you know it. Come on! I won’t breathe easy until we’re back behind the walls.” 

"By way of thanks,” Gale chimed in, over her shoulder, “would you be willing to point us to this camp of yours? We’re in want of a decent healer, with all possible haste.” 

Damays nodded. “North and a bit west. It’s a druids’ grove—but be careful. We’ve had trouble with goblins on the roads. They’ve been more bloodthirsty than usual. We’ll let whoever’s at the gate know to expect you. Their healer’s name is Nettie. She should be able to see to you.” 

Sura nodded. Without another word, the tieflings turned tail and vanished into the trees. 

With their audience gone, the githyanki warrior wasted no time. “Get me out of this thing,” she hissed. She banged her palms against the side of her cage, setting it to swinging. The boughs supporting it groaned ominously.  

The group considered their options.  

“Gale,” Sura said, eyeing the cage speculatively, “that enclosure has a hinged base. Do you have a spell you can hit it with from here?” 

“My friend, I thought you’d never ask,” Gale replied. He made a show of shaking his sleeves away from his hands. “Stand back.” 

The air crackled around his outstretched hands; sparks sprang from nowhere, coalescing between his fingertips. With a soft “ignis,” the flame leapt from his outstretched palm, through the air, to the latch holding the hinged door closed. It gave immediately. The wood snapped, and shattered, and the githyanki warrior fell to the ground, snarling curses in a language Sura did not understand. 

She picked herself up and squared her shoulders. “It seems you still have hold of your better judgement. Auspicious. I am Lae’zel of K’liir. I know of the cure for the parasite, and we must hurry. You will follow me.” 

In the face of this barrage, the group pulled up short, as one. “You... know of the cure,” Astarion said, not bothering to camouflage the disbelief in his words.  

“Is your hearing addled? I said as much.” 

“And what exactly is the cure?” Sura asked.  

“We must report to a ghustil for purification. Immediately,” Lae’zel said. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her sword, and her jaw clenched. “The longer we wait, the more of us is lost. One of those—red creatures”—she gestured in the direction of the vanished tieflings—“revealed that his kind have seen githyanki. A crèche must be near. We must find this Zorru of whom they spoke. I will have their location out of him, and then we will go and see this nightmare ended.” 

Sura scowled. “And how will you convince him to tell you that, exactly?” 

“The only way she knows how, I expect,” Shadowheart said. “Can you truly trust her so readily? She clearly has no regard for others. I suspect that will include us, the instant it is convenient.” 

Lae’zel raised her chin, and glared at Shadowheart down the bridge of her strange, small nose. “You are allies, for the moment, and so I will overlook this... slight. The surrounding environs crawl with foes. We will make better time together, and time is of the essence. Come with me. I will not make this request again.” 

“For my part, I say we go with her,” Astarion chimed in, from the back of the group. “If this healer at the grove can’t or won’t help us, I don’t believe we’ll find a better fallback plan.” 

Gale nodded, slowly. “I’m inclined to agree. Few hold more knowledge of illithids and their ways than the gith. It’s a good bet.” 

Lae’zel raised her gaze to meet Sura’s, and held it.  

“... fine,” Sura relented. “Let’s see what this grove has for us.”