Annie Wang

Sylus was just about done with your bullshit.

The fight wasn't even that bad, really. You'd been in a mood that day, and all he'd done was try to cuddle with you when you had snapped back at him.  He tried to tease you, to calm you down like he usually did, but his emotionally unaware ass had clearly not noticed the difference between pissed and extremely angry. 

Now, you were out on a shopping spree.

The shopping spree wasn't the problem. In fact, if it was up to Sylus, he was trailing behind you every day and watching you buy out mall after mall happily, making Luke and Kieran carry all the bags for him while the only thing he held was your waist. He'd sit for hours in dressing rooms watching you spin for him, giving you his undivided attention. 

No, the problem wasn't the shopping spree at all. It was the fact that you were using your card. 

It was the first time in ages that Sylus actually felt an emotion that was close to... was that distress? He'd given you card after card after card to use whenever he wasn't there, which was NEVER, because he was always there. Always. 

So when he saw the bags in your room from the various luxury brands he spoiled you with, he'd just assumed you'd gone to a mall without him to cheer you up. Sure, he'd been a little sulky that he didn't get to come with you, but as long as you felt better and came back to sleep with him in the same bed, he didn't complain.

Yet, when he'd logged onto his financial records to deposit some more money into his card for you, a furrow formed between his eyebrows, realizing that nothing had been withdrawn at all. And Sylus may have been emotionally unaware at some points in his life, but he definitely wasn't stupid.

You knew that you had millions of dollars to spend with just a flick of his black card whenever you wanted to; it was just pocket change to him. He could buy out this whole fucking continent for you and still have enough to stay happy till the day he died, yet you still insisted on acting like a stubborn mule and using your own money, because you knew it pissed him the fuck off.

"Why aren't you using my card, sweetie?" A low voice hit your ears the moment you stepped into the house, dragging along with you a trolley's worth of bags, stumbling under the weight. Whoever said that money couldn't buy happiness clearly didn't live with the boss of Onychinus.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you huffed, watching him take four bags from you with ease, the other hand taking three more to lighten your load.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said pointedly, looking down at you. His voice was still quiet and calm, but the look in his eyes told you he was definitely not happy with it at all. You didn't reply, hauling the rest of whatever you'd bought to your room before Sylus put the bags down and spun you around, hands on your hips.

"Princess," he murmured, thumbs stroking against your hips. "You know I can just deposit all my money into your card too, right?" This was false- he had already deposited money into your card, just not as much as he would have liked to, in case you noticed too soon. You just didn't realise, giddily swiping your card when you saw there was still money inside. God, you needed to be more financially aware.

"As if," you scoffed, and Sylus bit back a smile. You were so oblivious sometimes it was cute. How did you think he got to such a high position without the basic knowledge of bank account infiltration? "And who told you you had permission to hold me again?"

"The six pairs of lingerie you just bought," he purred, leaning in closer. "And the seven more you probably would have bought if you used my card."

"I don't need your card to buy everything," you huffed angrily, poking at his chest and earning an amused eye raise. It was so unfair that he was still so antagonizingly hot even when you were mad at him. It just made you madder.

"Wanna bet, sweetie?"

"You're on."

part 2 here!!

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"Not unless he's apologizing."

Your cold tone makes Zayne pause, unsure of how to proceed. You've been upset with Sylus for the past few days, leaving the house in a field of landmines. Zayne hadn't been around for this fight, so he was spared from your anger. Hence why he's allowed the privilege of his head in your lap in bed, while Sylus sits alone downstairs.

"He didn't mean to upset you." Zayne tries to reason, but you're having none of it.

"Of course he did. He's always trying to piss me off. He thinks it's so cute. Well, not so cute now, huh?"

"I would disagree." Sylus sounds cocky, which only makes your jaw clench. Almost immediately sensing the shift in mood, Zayne squeezes your hand, tracing soft shapes on the back of it.

You don't respond, preferring instead to lean down and press a deep kiss to Zayne's lips. He knows what you're doing, but he really does love kissing you, so he returns it all the same.

You toss your leg over his hips, deepening the kiss. But before you can go any further, a loud pointed cough breaks through. You pull away, irritation clear on your face. Without a word, you slip off the bed and head to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

"Was that really necessary?" Zayne shoots Sylus a look, tugging at the now too tight area of his pants, head still spinning a little.

"I can take care of that if you'd like?" Sylus smirks, but it's clear he's displeased at being left out.

"And then we'll both be in trouble. No thanks. Just apologize, won't you?" Zayne sighs, leaning back against the bed. He hates being in the middle of your arguments. As does his cock.

Sylus doesn't say anything, instead heading into the bathroom where he's sure you're just standing in, stubbornly waiting for him to go to bed before joining them.

Zayne isn't sure what happens, but the two of you emerge seemingly much happier, having clearly made up.

when caleb suddenly video called you on his flight back from a no-contact mission, you should've known there'd be trouble.

thousands of feet in the sky, there he sits: trousers unzipped, legs spread, manhood on full display. cloaked in black leather, his right hand covers his straining length, pumping up and down with slow, indolent strokes. each movement sets his pale skin ablaze, and he can’t help but grunt at the friction.

slack-jawed, you give him a half-greeting, half-wheeze. he laughs at your dazed expression, confirming you aren’t in a dream right now. still, you aren’t quite over the shock.

making sure you have a full view, he tilts his head toward the camera, hissing when his gloved fingers squeeze around his base. “what do you think? you can tell me. is there anything you want me to change?”

change?

about his…?

your head spins, and your gaze drops against your will—not that it really has anywhere else to go. he’s long and thick, with healthy veins bulging from the stimulation. he knows he looks good, knows there’s nothing to change. there’s no way he doesn't. 

he’s flaunting himself. 

“just say the word,” he prods. his voice is serpentine. “pleasing you is my highest priority. anything you want, i’ll do it.” 

You're already slipping into Zayne's lap, pressing your lips to his. He hums in surprise, but returns the kiss with an equal amount of vigor.

"So fucking hot. It's not-not fair." Your motions are near frantic as you pull at his clothes. He helps you, though clearly confused.

"Are you feeling alright?" Zayne presses a hand to your forehead, but you shake him off to leave kisses along the column of his neck.

"I feel fine. You're just-you're so hot. I need you so bad." Your desperation is coming off of you in waves, and Zayne seems to understand what's happening. He helps you out of your clothes, deft fingers tracing your heated skin.

You're doing your best not to rush him. Knowing Zayne, a punishment is always on the table and you think you'd combust if he edged you right now.

"Zayne..." You murmur softly as his hands slide up your waist. Involuntarily, your hips grind against his, feeling his hardness straining against the fabric of his boxers. Clearly, you're not the only one who's desperate.

"You look beautiful like this."

"Yeah yeah I-I know Zayne we can skip the foreplay okay? I-I need it." He chuckles at your words, but obeys without a word.

Your face contorts in relief the moment you sink down on his cock, resting your heated face in his shoulder. For a moment, neither of you move, just basking in the closeness that you so rarely get to savour.

"Do you feel better?" Zayne murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You hum, still not quite satisfied.

Folding laundry in nothing but one of his more casual shirts, something that looks absolutely massive on you but fits him like a glove. Your shared bed is an organized mess of assorted and categorized folded clothes that you then need to put away into their rightful homes.

But, Sylus? Sylus has other plans when he sees you.

Watching your hips sway, humming some song as you reach for the next item of clothing. Your shirt - his shirt - swishing around your mid-thigh, inching upwards in a way that he swears its the universe teasing him. You don't even flinch when he's sudden engulfing you.

"Thought you were just gonna watch me all day." You murmur, still attempting to fold the pair of jeans you had just tugged from the basket. Arms raised to allow him space as his biceps encircle your middle, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"I could have, but I got too tempted." You laugh, tilting your head into his embrace as you hold the half folded jeans outward. "Too tempted by me just standing here, folding my laundry? That's all it takes?"

You feel something akin to a laugh and a groan swirled into one vibrating your neck. His grip on you tightens just a fraction. "You just have to look at me the right way, sweetie, and I'm done for." You smile then, leaning more of your weight back and turning your head into his.

"Is that so?"

Valko, who was the toughest and most muscular wolf anybody would probably meet in their lifetime, was currently cowering behind the sofa because of you.

"Darling," you purred sweetly, though the slipper you held in your hand was anything but. "Don't be scared. I won't get mad at you."

"Really?" His ears perked up slightly, though he still gripped the edge of the sofa like a shield. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do!" Your voice was entirely too bright, considering the fact that your brand-new pillows were now on the floor of your bedroom, cotton everywhere and cases ripped apart. Valko, being the dumb guy he was, did not register the fakeness in your voice and the very hard shoe ready to be thrown. "Why would I lie to you?"

He let out a sigh of relief, raising his head over the top of the sofa so that you could finally see his full face, giving you a guilty look. "Promise?"

"Did you or did you not do that to my pillows?"

He glanced back at the doorway of your bedroom, looking at the mess he had created. Could anybody even blame him?! You'd been gone for a whole week, telling him you'd only be on your work trip with that slimy fish bastard Rafayel for three days, and you'd left him to his own devices! He missed you, he was irritated, and he was also extremely horny, so yes, maybe he humped your pillows and then maybe he tore them apart in frustration.

And also rolled around on your bedsheet.

And also rutted into your mattress.

"…Yesn't," he mumbled, ears pressing flatter against his head if it was even possible, picking at the loose thread of the sofa.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!"

He yelped as you flung your slipper at him, chasing him around the sofa. "You piece of shit, come back here!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" He wailed, tail hanging low between his legs as he scurried away, howling as he saw you pull off your other slipper from your left foot. "I didn't mean to, it just happened like that!"

"You didn't mean to ruin these very expensive silk sheets, huh?" Your second throw hit your target head-on, smacking against his cheek. He growled, rubbing the redness starting to bloom before remembering you were the one chasing him, sprinting to the corner of the sofa. "You didn't mean to tear up my new pillows? Do you know how expensive this shit is? Do you know what inflation does to a person?"

"Baby, I promise I'll buy you new ones!" He tried to feint going right, but you were too smart for that, glaring at him from the opposite side of the sofa, ready for whatever bullshit move he tried to pull. "I just missed you, okay? You were gone for so long, there's only so many times a man can jack it before the skin goes raw! Also, who does that painter think he is?" He muttered the last part under his breath, though he probably shouldn't have. At this point, you looked like steam was blowing out of your ears.

"Oh, so that's what this is about!"

"No, god, I didn't mean that," He tried to pull the faithful puppy dog face, one that always worked on you, one that got him out of trouble from spilling wine on your favourite white dress. But no, you still weren't budging. Jesus, how expensive were those pillows?

"It's not my fault you're like a bitch in heat!" Looking around for something else to throw, you grumbled, realising the only things near your hand were more expensive pieces of furniture. He gulped as you started to tie up your hair, before screaming when you climbed over the sofa to get to his side. "HEY HEY THAT'S NOT FAIR THAT'S AGAINST THE RULES-"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO THE RULES WHEN YOU FUCKED MY PILLOWCASE?"

valko my beloved, what we could have had :( you live on in my heart

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he’s handsome, though, so they're not complaining.

he has wine red hair and golden eyes, and he always follows the latter half of their sessions intently, as if he’s memorizing all their accessibility tips and tricks for himself. 

when class ends and his pet scurries over to him in excitement, he always gives the nearest trainer an earnest, heart-fluttering thank-you, as if his gratitude goes deeper than all the other owners’. 

week after week, they have no idea that he’s learning, too—that he has someone at home who might need him one day.

your beloved shared pet is your first line of defense, but if all else fails, valko needs to be there to ground you when you're spiraling, to hold you when you panic, to call for help when you need it.