Bee

You blinked. 

You immediately stopped watching the movie on the television, and your head tilted to look at Zayne, whose arms were crossed, leaning on the doorway. 

“Um, what?” Your brows knitted together as you watched his cold gaze lock on you. “Sorry, Zayne. I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Am I not satisfying you in sex?”

Your eyes widened slightly, feeling caught off guard by your husband’s question. “Of course you do, Zayne. Where is this coming from?”

“I am your husband and your primary physician, and I have your cycle memorized,” he firmly said. “Right now, you're ovulating. So how come you're not asking for sex?”

You immediately averted your gaze back to the television, unable to meet his darkened expression. “Um, it's not like that, Zayne. I can manage myself just f-fine.” 

“Really? Because as far as I remember,” You heard his slow, heavy footsteps approaching closer. “Three, four, and the previous months prior, you would initiate having sex during your ovulation.” 

You gulped. “I— I just learned how to handle it on my own.” 

“Why?” 

Your body trembled in nervousness, eyes staring at the television, trying to seek some comfort from the noise.

“Zayne, it's not really a big deal. I swear!” 

Zayne picked up the remote control and pointed it towards the television, immediately shutting the screen off into pitch-black. 

“That is not what I asked.” He sternly said, setting the remote control aside. 

He stood in front of you with his arms crossed, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, feeling yourself shrinking in front of him.

“I– I just don't want to bother you with trivial matters, Zayne.” You nervously fidgeted your fingers. “Your work is already physically and mentally demanding. I just don't want to add to your exhaustion…” 

Zayne’s cold gaze lingered on you for a while. “So you decided to endure and relieve it on your own?” 

“Zayne, it's just ovulation—” 

“It seems that you have reached conclusions on your own, and most of them are inaccurate.” Zayne interrupted. 

You noticed Zayne's body shift a little, making you look up.

“I can confidently attest that your assessment of my physical condition is incorrect.” 

Your eyes widened, seeing Zayne unbuckling his pants. 

“Z-Zayne? What are you—” 

“I’ll have to properly demonstrate it instead.” Zayne’s hand reached for his glasses, hastily taking it off and placing it on the coffee table. “Let's test whether your hypothesis is correct.”

“Z-Zayne— wait— Hngh!”

“Aren't you a big girl now? Then surely you can handle my cock just fine.” 

Zayne has been ramming his thick cock into you for at least three hours now, like a rutting madman. 

Your chest is pressed against the bed, and your face is buried against the pillow, your tears staining the white fabric. Your hips were limply raised, gripped by Zayne's strong, large hands to maintain support.

“Ngh— Zayne… more…” 

Your walls were gushing wet, and you could not distinguish whether it was from the stimulation or your cum, but it did not matter. All you could hear was the wet, unrelenting thwop, thwop, thwop. 

Zayne leaned closer until you felt his breath against your ear. “My love, you said you already relieved yourself enough. But look at you, still dripping wet.” His hands traveled to your breasts, gently squeezing them. “You wanted me to bury myself inside you so badly, didn't you?” 

Zayne, being a physician, already knew the answer. But would he pass this opportunity to remind you that only his cock would satisfy your thirst during ovulation? Of course not. 

“‘M sorry, Zayne… your— mhmp— feels too good…” Your tongue lolled, and your mind was in a haze, feeling Zayne’s thick length hit your deepest spots. 

"Cum, my needy wife." Zayne pounded you harder, and with one strong thrust, you squirted juices once again even before your mind could process it. 

Your legs trembled in pleasure, feeling Zayne halt for a brief moment. Then, you weakly tilted your head to the side, eager to see his face.

Just when you thought it was over, you felt his cock rubbing against your clit, still erect.

“Z-Zayne, we've been at it for hours, y-you just came back home from work earlier—” 

“No, my love.” He kissed your temple, gently turning you around, making you lie on your back. “We haven't finished the assessment.” 

You looked at him teary-eyed. “I— I believe you already.” 

“I disagree. The mere fact that you continue to express your concern when we're in the middle of the assessment clearly implies that I have not demonstrated enough.” He gently brushed his finger against your chin.

“Spread your legs wide open.” 

You were absolutely done for.

“Oh, why didn’t you say anything?” Tara questions eagerly.

“Eh, well…” Take a deep breath, compose yourself. “It’s sort of new, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it didn’t work out.”

“Well, secret’s out now, honey! We need details.” Simone taps a perfectly painted fingernail on the table like it was a gavel and you were in court and not having lunch at your favorite café.

“I’d rather –”

“Nope. You’ve got to give us something.”

“Fine, he’s a colleague.”

“And his name is…?”

“Xavier.” What, you’re giving up a name that easily? Do you possess zero self preservation skills? You’ve really painted yourself into a corner now…

“Pretty name. What’s he like?” Simone quips excitedly.

“He’s friendly, professional, very helpful.”

“Ok, those are the most impersonal descriptors I’ve ever heard. C’mon, you can do better than that.” She counters.

“Please, let us live vicariously through you. New relationships are so exciting.” Tara adds with a dreamy expression as she stares at you pleadingly.

Tara and Simone had managed to find their ‘soulmates’ right after finishing university, and somehow Jeremiah and Andrew seemed just as smitten now as they did back then. Not that you were surprised, Tara and Simone were great, most of the time…

“Uhm, he’s…” Give them something good enough to make them shut up about it and the next time they ask about him you can just say you’ve broken up. “He’s protective, selfless and a great kisser.” Apart from that last one, which you couldn’t offer an accurate opinion about because you haven’t kissed him before, you avoided any lies about him. Makes it easier to keep track of the story. 

“So, you’re bringing him to mine and Andrew’s anniversary party next month?” Simone smiled at you expectantly, clearly already very eager to meet this new ‘boyfriend’ of yours.

“If he isn't busy, I’m sure he’d love to come.”

Oh, what have you done… 

After a less than relaxing lunch break, you return to the office ready to get back to work. Or, at least ready to get your mind off of the mess you managed to bury yourself in. You sit down at your desk and immediately reach for your glasses hoping they possess some magical ability to keep your headache at bay. The glaring fluorescent lights that illuminate the office landscape you find yourself a part of are doing you no favors against the increasingly throbbing ache.

“Hey, do you have those reports done yet?” Xavier’s voice startles you so greatly that the top of your head suddenly connects with his chin.

“Oh, shit! Xavier, I’m sorry.” You exclaim and jump to your feet.

“No, it’s my fault for standing so close. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiles earnestly, but the faint trickle of blood slowly emerging on his bottom lip doesn’t exactly make you feel less quilty.

“You’re bleeding. Hold still.” You reach for the unused napkin on your desk and quickly press the button on the water dispenser to dampen it, before gently pressing it to his lip.

“How’s your head?” He asks through the limited mouth movement you're allowing him.

“Shh, don’t talk right now. I’m busy fixing your lip.”

“Didn’t you date a doctor for a while, this should be easy for you, right?” There is a hint of disapproval to his tone, probably because he remembers your sulking when that relationship ended.

“I dated a doctor, that doesn’t mean I somehow fused his brain with mine and obtained all the knowledge.”

“Hm. A shame he didn’t make himself useful and share some. Might have come in handy.”

“I can fix this with my own brain, thank you very much.” Your voice is practically dripping with sarcasm, which he somehow seems to miss.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I’m not doubting you, I promise. I have full confidence in your abilities.” He frantically attempts an apologetic explanation. He only meant that the doctor could have at least had the decency to leave you with something other than heartbreak and wasted time. 

“I know, Xavie. Don’t worry.” You chuckle, glancing away from his lip to flash him a reassuring smile. “Ok, I think the worst of it has passed.”

The napkin is discarded in a nearby trashcan and you use your thumb to gently pull his bottom lip down slightly to better assess the damage. 

Xavier’s hands turn into forcefully closed fists behind his back. There’s nothing he can do except hope you don’t notice how tense he’s gotten whilst under your care. The gentle touch of your fingers through the damp napkin was hard enough to manage, but this, your thumb directly pressing on his lip! He deserves a medal for keeping somewhat composed. 

“Thank you.” He said as calmly as he could manage, staring down at you and memorizing the sight of you in such close proximity. “How can I repay you for your excellent care, doctor?”

You snort out a laugh at his playful tone. Initially you were just going to leave it there; return to work like nothing happened. Then the memory of your ‘boyfriend’ resurfaced and you glanced up at him, embarrassed and unsure.

“Actually, I have something I might need your help with.” You mumble before glancing around the large office landscape carefully. 

Not pleased with the high risk of someone walking by or overhearing your request, you grab his hand and tug him along into the hallway. 

“I fucked up.” 

“Okey?” His brows furrow at your vague statement as he braces for whatever comes next. 

“My friends keep bugging me about my abysmal dating life and today at lunch they tried to set me up with someone again. I panicked, and told them I was already seeing someone to get them to back off.”

Xavier felt his blood boil, but he wasn’t surprised to hear you were seeing someone. You were wonderful, of course you wouldn’t be available for ever. With respect for your relationships, the appropriate grieving time when they ended and the fact that you somehow always turned to him when someone mistreated you, there was never a time that seemed fitting for him to make his own move. Regret gnawed at him for every day that passed where his role as a simple witness to your romantic endeavors persisted. If he was truly honest, his reluctance to offer himself up as a worthy candidate had little to do with the ‘competition’ and everything to do with the fact that he feared your potential rejection.

“They obviously wanted to know who and I panicked some more and told them that it was a colleague.” 

How could he have missed it if you’d been seeing someone from the office? 

“They wanted a name and I gave them yours…” Your voice became more and more quiet with each word, like they were too heavy to deliver with your usual strength and confidence. 

“Me? Since when are we dating?” After taking a moment to fully process your words, Xavier was finally able to deduce that you had fabricated this story to satisfy your friends. The realization made him chuckle awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck attempting to distract from the flush in his cheeks.

“Since a few weeks ago, maybe? I don’t know.” A heavy sigh filled with shame and discomfort filled the space between you. 

“Hm, I sort of wish I’d been there. Seems like the sort of moment one would like to be a part of.” He joked and put a finger to his chin as if trying to conjure up a memory.  

A low grumble sounded from somewhere deep inside you as a response to the headache inducing situation you had put yourself in. Made even worse by Xavier’s far too relaxed demeanor that greatly contrasted your own stress and embarrassment. If only you knew how truly flustered he was.

Sure, you could just admit to Tara and Simone that you’d lied, but then you’d be right back where you started. 

“So, what do you need me to do?”

“Huh?” You gasped. “I haven’t even asked you for anything yet.”

“No, but I can tell this is bothering you and I don’t mind helping.”

There was no way he’d make it out of this deal without taking great damage. He knew he’d never regret helping you, but this would have consequences for him personally. However, if this was his temporary ticket out of the friendzone, he’d gladly take it and deal with those consequences later. 

“Oh, okey then. Xavier, would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a while?” You smiled sweetly, something reminiscent of a schoolgirl asking her crush to go steady.

“Sure. I’m all yours.” He chuckled nervously, hoping you didn’t notice. “What do I need to know, or prepare for?”

“Well, it’s strictly for show, so don’t worry about that. Simone and Andrew are celebrating their anniversary in a few weeks, I figured that would be a nice place to show you off.”

“Show me off, what am I? A new accessory?” 

“Normally, I would say no. But in this situation I guess you kinda are.”

“Wow, that makes me feel special.” He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away from yours.

“C’mon, Xavie, you know what I mean."

“Mhm, my girlfriend clearly doesn’t appreciate me. I’m just armcandy to her.” The playful pout jutting his split lip forward. 

“Oh don’t pout. What are you? Five?” You poke his pout and it instantly eases back into that soft smile of his. 

“So you don’t need me to do anything other than show up? How will that make our relationship believable?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never entered into a fake relationship before.”

“Neither have I, but if we’re going to convince your friends I think we should put some more effort into it.”

“Effort?”

“Mhm.”

“Please elaborate.”

“I think maybe we should practice behaving like a couple. I’m not saying we need to make out or anything, but standing close and light touches should seem natural, right?”

“I guess, but I don’t want to ask that of you.”

"You're not though, I’m suggesting it. We don’t do things halfway around here, right?”

“Ok, so we practice, to make it believable. But we don’t need to overdo it, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

He reaches out his hand for you to shake as if we’re agreeing to the deal. With a firm and convincing grip, you take his hand, surprised when he doesn’t let go.You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously as you wait for him to either explain himself or release you.

His grip on your hand shifts as his fingers lace with yours and a gentle thumb brushes over your knuckle.

“Just practicing.” He smiles.

You roll your eyes and you both snort a laugh before he eventually lets you go. 

The rest of the week was a bit awkward. There was no need to pretend you were in a romantic relationship when you only saw each other at work, but the agreement you made still lingered in the air around you. Nothing about your usual interactions felt quite as innocent anymore, like there was some underlying pressure to make them count. 

You began to fear for what would remain of your friendship with Xavier after this whole ordeal was over since it felt so strange and changed so drastically already, before you’d even done any of the practice you agreed might be beneficial. Perhaps that practice would be good though, maybe it would help you reclaim the easy friendship you had developed over the last year of working together once the ‘fake dating’ settled more into your normal behaviours.

Right now it felt like a hazy filter had clouded your vision, making each step a fall risk where all you could do was hope that the other person was close enough to catch you. It didn’t help that his desk was right next to yours and you collaborated on almost every project. The office landscape you both were so familiar with had suddenly experienced a shift, like the tiny space the two of you shared had transformed into its own ecosystem and increased the temperature.

Then came Friday. You’d agreed that Xavier would drive you home, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but this time he’d come home with you. To practice…

“So, where do you want to start?” You bravely questioned once you were both settled on your couch. 

A fluffy pillow in your lap served as a barrier between you, one that you knew was completely unnecessary. You trusted Xavier, there was no doubt about that, yet this situation was so unfamiliar that even the presence of your most trusted colleague did little to soothe you.

“I guess we should agree on some rules. Figure out what we’re comfortable with, how far we’re willing to go to convince your friends.”

“Mhm.” You picked at your nail beds nervously as you took a moment to consider where your boundaries would be, only to discover that you truly had no clue. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Uhm, I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t mind holding your hand and stuff like that. Kissing probably won’t be an issue, unless you’re the type to openly make out with your new boyfriends at parties which I don’t think you are.”

“I’m not.” You smiled at his accurate assessment.

“So, in terms of physical stuff, we’re on the same page?”

“I think so. That’s a good start.”

You both managed to relax a little bit more now that the first step had been taken and a somewhat comfortable silence settled over you. It was nice to not have to force conversation after a long day at work. The quiet was welcomed. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Xavier caught you yawning. This was his moment to shoot his shot. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get you to fall asleep in his arms, for practice obviously.

“Do you want to watch something on TV? And perhaps, move a little closer?” He treaded carefully.

“Uhm, ok.” 

You clicked a few buttons on the remote and settled on a rerun of a show you knew he’d seen before. Then you bravely ditched the pillow and scooted closer. His arm was resting over the back of the couch silently inviting you in. At first you just sat there, biting your lip like it had betrayed you and needed punishment. There was still space between you, only temporarily closed by an innocent brushing of thighs whenever one of you shifted slightly. 

Eventually you dared tuck your legs up and folded them next to you. A gentle touch at your shoulder whispered at you to dare lean back so his arm could fully wrap around you. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To be wrapped into someone's arms again, to feel cared for. And Xavier’s arms certainly seemed like they could be very comforting. 

Your mind briefly flickered back to Simone’s not so subtle comment on you needing to be ‘taken care of’ causing certain images to float around that messy brain of yours. Xavier was attractive, sexy, perhaps even beautiful. There was no denying that you had wondered what was hidden underneath his corporate appropriate wardrobe. 

The closest you’d gotten to a proper peek was that one week over the summer where the ac at the office was broken. It started with a few buttons of his pale blue shirt undone which revealed nothing more than the collar of the white t-shirt underneath, then he’d rolled up his sleeves exposing his surprisingly toned forearms. You remember thinking to yourself that you’d never been turned on by a man's forearms before, and then you quickly tossed those thoughts aside blaming it on the heat and ovulation. 

In fact those became your go to explanations for why a tiny hint of arousal burst within you every time Xavier undid another button or rolled his sleeves up higher. Then came the hottest day of the week where he’d ended up taking his shirt off entirely. The t-shirt remained on, but it was slim fit and slightly damp from him sweating. You almost lost it, but still convinced yourself it was heat and ovulation. 

“You, ok?” He suddenly questioned as he leaned forward a bit to take a better look at your face. “You’re kinda flushed.”

“I’m fine.” Then why is your voice so high pitched? 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Clearly worried that he did something wrong.

‘No, I’m just stuck in a loop of scenarios playing in my mind where you make me very, very comfortable.’

“I’m ok, Xavie. I promise.” You plastered on your most reassuring grin and attempted to ignore the fact that you were in fact violently blushing.

“I can move if you want, I’ll just –”

“Xavier, you didn’t do anything wrong. I swear.” Hoping to prove your point you lean into his side and grab the hand resting behind you and drape it over your shoulder. For practice.

His body tenses immediately at the brash movement, but he manages to relax a bit when he sees that you seem better now than you did mere moments ago. 

It felt too nice to have you like this and the consequences he feared he’d have to face were already making things difficult. How could he ever sit on his own couch again without feeling like something was missing, like you were missing.  

There was nothing he could do about the future. He’d simply continue to be there for you, eager to join in on shittalking your failed dates, like the good friend he is. For now, he’d simply try to enjoy getting to be something more. Even if it wasn’t real, he could pretend it was. And with you half asleep curled up against him, it felt more real than anything else.

You stir first, slowly being woken up by the pressure of a hand wrapped around your waist as you lay slumped across his chest. Startled, you instantly sit up causing Xavier to awaken. His breath is shallow and his ears are bright red, even in the darkness that enshrouds you. 

“What, what’s going on?” He panics whilst frantically searching your expression for answers.

“Nothing, I just… My neck hurts, I've been sleeping on it weirdly.” 

“Oh. Do you want me to give you a massage?” He smooths out your hair once you’ve confirmed there’s no imminent danger. 

But your mind keeps flashing you images of Xavier in a tight white t-shirt all hot and sweaty, making any further touches seem like dangerous territory. His hand on your hair does little to deter the pictures in your head.

“It’s fine. Thanks though.”

“I guess I should probably head home, it’s late.” He notes, whilst glancing at his phone.

“You could stay if you want. I have extra pillows and blankets.”

“No, I should get home. I’ve got some plants on a strict watering schedule and I’m already several hours behind.” 

‘Also, if I stay I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to leave.’ 

“Awe, Xavie the plant dad.”

“A proud one too. If we ever, uh, practice at my place, I’d be happy to introduce you to them.” He jokes as he begins lacing up his shoes, thankful for the overall darkness that hopefully conceals his slightly shaky grip on the laces.

You get up from the couch to bid him farewell. He’s got an unsure look to him, like he’s wondering what would be the appropriate next move. Are you still practicing?

“Thanks for coming, Xavier, and for agreeing to help me with this mess.” Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him in for an appreciative hug, which he reciprocates by rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“Where do we stand on cheek kisses?” You question, wondering if it should have remained a thought.

“I don’t think I’d mind.” He replies far too quickly.

Putting his thoughts to the test you reach up and quickly peck his cheek before gazing at him expectantly.

“Ok, I don’t mind.” Then he returns the favor and kisses your forehead, lingering a breath longer than he probably should have.

“I don’t mind either.” A faint warmth soon spreads along your chest as you take in the residual heat of his lips.

“So, how do you think our first night went?” The tone of his voice shifted, like he was slipping out of character. 

“I think we did ok, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I think your snuggling technique could use some work. Your elbow was poking my ribs for hours. I think a couple more cuddle sessions on the couch should do the trick.” You playfully slap his arm at the unnecessary constructive criticism. “Alright, no critiques. I can take a hint.”

“I’ll talk to you later, idiot.”

“Are we having our first fight already? Baby please, I need you!” A dramatic hand reaches for you accompanied by brows raised so high in faux desperation they almost touched his hairline. 

You laugh at his ridiculous performance, purposefully ignoring how your heart fluttered slightly at his choice of nickname. 

“Alright, we’ll talk later. Good night.” Instinctively, he reaches for you and places another kiss on your forehead. 

Before either of you have time to consider the literally out of character physical affection, Xavier makes his escape. 

It shouldn’t have felt so natural to reach for you again. The game was paused, you were simply delivering a progress report like you’d do at work and he still couldn’t resist reaching for you. 

Shit… 

Xavier knew he’d made a mistake when agreeing to be your fake boyfriend. He was the one who suggested you might benefit from practicing and who continued to insist that more was needed. This whole situation felt like a reward and a punishment all at once. Making it believable enough to convince others was easy, natural. The issue was how he’d convince you he was just faking. He would slip up, again. Stare too intently, touch too longingly. How could he not, when he wasn’t faking it? 

“Hey, Xavier, are you feeling ok today?” Your voice startled Xavier out of his daydream. 

He blinked a few times, trying to readjust to the bright lights from his screen. The familiar hum of the office slowly increases its intensity as his mind reawakens fully. Rolling back in his deskchair, he turns to face you ready to defend himself and whatever mistake you had caught in his work.

“I’m fine? What did I misspell this time?”

“That’s not it, you sent me a half finished report. Is it the wrong document or did you not have time to finish it? It’s fine if you didn’t, I have some time now if you want to look at it together.” 

Xavier took a moment attempting to remember what report you were referring to. He thought he finished it, but maybe he spaced out. He’s been doing that a lot lately. None of that mattered though; you’d offered to help, he couldn’t say no to that.

“Sure, if you have time. Some help would be nice.”

You roll your own chair out from your desk and place it next to his. The lack of distance didn’t seem to cross your mind, but Xavier noticed and instantly went rigid which caught your attention.

“Xavie, am I making you uncomfortable?” You leaned in even closer to make sure he was the only one who could hear you. 

With all the practicing the two of you had been doing lately, placing a supportive hand on his thigh felt like second nature. It had been going so well, you’d even gotten so relaxed about the whole thing that you found yourself able to simply enjoy his company without unnecessary overthinking. You thought he felt the same way, it seemed like it when you were at home at least. At the office you apparently had a much easier time adjusting to your arrangement than he did. 

“No, no, you’re not.” That was a lie… He wasn’t used to lying to you. Keeping secrets was one thing, but lying was new territory he didn’t really want to explore. “I just need to catch up on some sleep.”

“I’ve told you that you can go home earlier if you need or that you can stay over if you want.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” He courageously reached for your hand on his thigh and squeezed it gently in his own.

Except it was your fault, sort of, he just didn’t want you to know. Why would he let you feel guilty for something he was responsible for? No, he would persevere and hope that he’d make it out of this in a manageable number of pieces so that he’d be able to glue himself back together, alone… 

“Ok, I’ll let it slide for now. But I’ve got my eye on you, buddy.”

Buddy…

The screen lit up with graphs and statistics as you skillfully set your brain back into work mode whilst he still lagged behind. Lost somewhere between rehearsed handholding and systematic forehead kisses. He felt better when he was allowed to fully embrace the character of ‘fake boyfriend’, but that character didn’t have a place at the office. Here he was just Xavier, your buddy.

Simone and Andrew’s party was only a few days away, but you were confident that you and Xavier could pull off a believable act. 

Something did trouble you though… Xavier never seemed to settle back into normal when you were at work, even after two weeks of switching the fake relationship on and off. It made him hard to read and you began to fear that he was exhausting himself while trying to be your knight in shining armour. It also made you miss Xavier, the one who wasn’t playing a character. The one you were used to joking and messing around with at work. 

You were still practicing. The afternoons you spent without him started to feel wrong, like you were skipping solidified steps in your routine. It made you feel stressed, as if you were constantly forgetting something. But unlike a stove being left on or a door unlocked, you could never just check if you were caught up or not. Because he wasn’t there. 

Perhaps it would be good to return to normal. You were going to ‘break up’ a few weeks after the party, so there wasn’t any reason to keep up with your practicing now. Which meant you’d be spending the next two afternoons alone, without the person who had become your safe haven, or at least the character he played had. 

“Should I drop by your place a little early, so we can get warmed up before the party?” 

“You’re really taking this seriously, Xavie.” You smile appreciatively.

“We agreed to make it believable, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah, we did. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re really good at pretending. You’ve almost convinced me we’re real.” You laugh absentmindedly whilst pouring two cups of coffee. 

Xavier had never been more thankful for a cup of coffee in his entire life. Your eyes were occupied for a second watching over the coffee you were pouring, and when the cup was filled and safely in his hands he could blame the flushed complexion on the steamy liquid before he drowned himself in it. 

“It’ll be over soon, and you can go back to your normal routine and not worry about hanging out with me all the time.”

Xavier can’t help but wonder if you’re really that clueless.There was no way he’d seemed anything less than pleased to spend so much time with you. Yet, you still did not suspect that perhaps he wasn’t really pretending.  

“I don’t mind.” He calmly utters, even with his emotions bubbling just below the surface.

“You keep saying that, but you’ve been acting weird ever since we started this thing.”

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches out to pull you along toward a more private corner of the office. There was no intention to be rough, but the force of the pull nearly spills the full cup of coffee you’re holding. You stare up at him bewildered as you brace yourself for whatever he had to tell you privately.

“I’m just finding it hard to maintain professional boundaries when we’re in the office. We’ve spent so much time together lately that touching you and stuff feels more natural than not doing it.” That sounded too close to a confession, fuck. “I just mean that I’m trying  to remain professional, you know?”

“Of course, Xavie. I worry about slipping  too. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve almost reached out to hold your hand or rest my head on your shoulder when we’ve sat next to each other in meetings.” 

“Really?” He asks expectantly. Too hopeful for his own good.

You nod and reach out to claim the coffee cup clutched in his grasp. Once both your mugs are safely deposited on top of the printer you turn your attention back to Xavier. He seems to have completely frozen in place as he watches your every move. Then you reach forward and wrap your arms around his back as you nuzzle into his chest. It takes him a moment, but he soon reciprocates your affection and holds you in his arms like he would if you were at home practicing. 

“It’s quite nice, right?” You mumble against his chest as you relax further into his familiar embrace.

“Yeah…” A breath passes. “It’s nice.” He kisses the top of your head and allows himself a moment to bask in the comforting scent of your shampoo. 

The printer suddenly comes to life with an array of beeps signaling that someone will arrive shortly to collect their printed document. The two of you break apart and hurry to rescue your coffee before they tumble to the ground by the force of the printer. 

You smile shyly at each other as your coworker rounds the corner before you both make your way back to your desks. 

It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time keeping your personalities separate. Regardless of the differing feelings the two of you held, it was nice to know you also craved his closeness to some extent. 

True to his word, Xavier showed up thirty minutes early ready to warm up for the party. Not that you actually needed it. Letting himself into your apartment (like he’d done so many times at this point), he immediately searches for you. The living room is empty, but he hears shuffling from inside your bedroom. The door is ajar, but he can’t see much apart from your shadow dancing across the floor.

“Are you ready?” He softly inquires whilst knocking on the door to announce his presence. 

“Almost! Sorry, Xavie!” You call out apologetically. He was prepared for this though, he knew you were nervous about attending this event. That you would likely overthink everything in advance, your appearance, how much alcohol you should consume at the party, choice of transportation, and him. 

“Actually, could you come help me? Please.” You sigh defeatedly, staring at your bracelet as it falls to the floor for the sixth time.

“A-are you dressed?” He stutters, slowly nudging the door.

You stroll across your room and fully open the door for him, too impatient and stressed for his hesitation. Silently you hold out your wrist and drop the stubborn bracelet into his hand. He chuckles lightly at your flustered expression, but easily completes the task you could not. 

Muttering a ‘thanks’ you return to the full length mirror, resuming your jewelry application. At least your earrings are cooperating. Then his reflection appears behind yours and you smile in the mirror, instantly at ease in his presence. 

“You look nice.” He says earnestly as he studies your reflection.

“Thanks. So do you.” You take a step backwards without breaking eye contact with his reflection. His arms wrap around you as his chin gently rests on your shoulder. You lean your head against his in response. “We look quite nice together, actually.”

To you it sounded like a brand new discovery. One that seemed to surprise you. But Xavier had been aware of that fact for months already, fearful that you’d never see what he did. Holding you like this felt like home, like you were always supposed to be in his arms. The change in your expression came too soon, it almost looked like discomfort. So, he let his arms drop and hang lifelessly at his sides.

Your heart was pounding so loudly you feared he’d be able to feel it in his arms where they had been draped around you. It shouldn’t feel that nice to be embraced by a friend. And that’s all you wanted him to be, right? He was a colleague, it would be terrible if he was anything more than a friend. With your dating history, the relationship would be doomed to fail and going to work would be even more torturous than it already is. You were just lonely, and he filled the boyfriend shaped hole in your life so nicely. You’d fallen for the character he was portraying, the one you asked him to play. Xavier was your friend, a very good friend, nothing more. 

Xavier cleared his throat behind you, catching your attention through the mirror again. “You ready?” 

You reluctantly nodded in acceptance but it quickly shifted into a more convincing shake, changing your initial response. 

“We don’t have to stay long, right?” Xavier hesitantly grabbed your hand whilst remaining at a safe distance. The memory of your souring expression when he held you still fresh in his mind. “Just long enough for your friends to see me and you together.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a grateful smile onto your face. He truly is a great friend.

Public transport was a constraint pain in your life. You relied on it, almost daily, yet it always let you down. Tonight was no exception as the bus showed up almost 20 minutes late ensuring that you and Xavier would be way more than just ‘fashionably late’ to Simone and Andrew’s anniversary party. At least this way you could both have a few drinks if you needed it without worrying about how you’d get home.

Xavier held your hand almost the entire journey to their house. It seemed like he didn’t even think, he just held it like it was the most natural thing in the world as he absentmindedly caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. The gesture kept your mind off of the party you were headed to, instead you were locked in on attempting to decipher the feelings that bloomed from his touch. Which ones belonged to you, and which ones belonged to the girlfriend character you had been portraying?

“Maybe this was a bad idea?” You question when you and Xavier finally stand face to face with Simone and Andrew’s front door. This door was no stranger to you, yet it had never felt threatening like it does right now.

“C’mon, we’ve practiced and rehearsed for this very moment.” Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “We’re pretty much as close to a real couple as one could get without an actual agreement to be one.” Fuck… 

You blinked up at him as if the statement made no sense to you. All you could think was that you’d taken it too far, crossed boundaries he wasn’t comfortable with crossing. Your breath hitched as you searched for proper words to apologize to him, but he beat you to it.

“I just mean that we’re making it believable!” He quickly emphasized, hoping to clear any confusion. 

He grabs your hand in his again, the same hand he helped attach your bracelet too earlier. Straightening out the jewelry with his free hand, he takes a moment to admire the pretty gold star charm resting against your skin. 

The two of you lock eyes and make a silent agreement to open the door and join the celebrations. Time to make proper use of all the practicing you’ve done over the last weeks. Finally using all the time you’ve spent together for its original purpose instead of just letting it confuse you. 

Loud music and dense air engulfs you instantly, further proving how you’re more than just ‘fashionably late’. There are people surrounding you both on all sides, but none of them matter. None of these people need to see you and Xavier together.

“Do you see your friends anywhere?” Xavier leans down so you can hear him over the music. You shake your head and lightly pull him along further into the house.

“There you are!” Tara exclaims excitedly and it takes her a moment to notice that the man standing to your right is in fact holding your hand. “And you must be Xavier?” She holds out her hand for him to shake and he graciously returns the gesture. 

Tara then moves to your left and whispers “He’s sooo handsome. You should get married.”

“Tara, how much have you had to drink?” You laugh at her bluntness laced in the familiar scent of alcohol. Xavier thankfully did not hear her though.

“Not nearly enough. Jeremiah’s parents are visiting all of next week, so this is basically my last night.”

“You’ll live, sweetheart.” Jeremiah appears at her side and kisses her cheek before he also introduces himself to Xavier.

After a quick trip to find some drinks, you and Xavier join Tara and Jeremiah out on the patio. The music is still blaring from inside, but it’s slightly less crowded out here. Xavier steps out first and plops down on an empty lounge chair. Tara and Jeremiah have one each, but the fourth chair is conveniently currently being used by someone refereeing a badminton game in the garden. You stand awkwardly next to Xavier’s chair for a moment before his hands land on your waist to guide you down into his lap. You’re blushing profusely, probably way too much for your poor foundation to be able to cover. 

You shyly glance at him and he meets you with a reassuring smile. If only you had dared look at him a little longer you might have been able to catch a glimpse at how his ears perfectly matched the color of your cheeks. 

Xavier is relaxing back in the chair engaging in polite conversation with your friends. It actually seems like he’s enjoying himself, chatting and sipping his drink like this situation wasn’t entirely fabricated for your benefit. His hand caresses your waist, easily soothing your nerves. 

After a few more sips of your drink you find yourself relaxing into his chest whilst the conversation with Tara and Jeremiah continues to flow smoothly. 

Simone’s black hair suddenly catches your attention as she emerges from the living room with Andew following close behind. The new addition to the conversation causes you to tense up in Xavier’s lap, like you’re going to need to warm up to the situation again. 

Xavier notices, of course, and he innocently pokes his fingers into your side, tickling you back into his chest with a smile on his lips. The movement resulted in your face tucked into the crook of his neck and both his arms wrapping around you, careful not to spill his drink in the process. Your glass was thankfully empty, otherwise its contents would have coated yours and Xavier’s laps after his little attack. He bends his neck to reach closer to where you're resting against him and places a quick peck to your cheek in the midst of your shared laughter. Knowledge of Simone and Andrew joining you on the patio remains forgotten until she speaks and you are reminded of their presence.

“Well aren’t you two just adorable.” She teases, referring to yours and Xavier’s almost childish antics.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Xavier.” He awkwardly greets them both with his left hand since his right is still tucked behind you. “Happy anniversary.”

“Thank you!” 

“Where’s the last chair?” Simone questions.

“Your brother is using it to live out his sports commentator dreams.” Jeremiah says as he points to the still ongoing game occurring behind you.

“I have to go to the bathroom. Andrew, you can have my chair.” Tara declares as she stands and moves over to pull you and Simone with her inside. 

Xavier fought the instinct telling him to hold you tighter when Tara grabbed your arm, as if she was a threat. Your friends were allowed to take you with them, no good boyfriend would force you to remain by his side all night. Right before you disappeared behind the sliding door you turned around to smile at him apologetically for suddenly leaving him alone.

Except he wasn’t alone. Jeremiah was still sitting across from him and Andrew had taken the seat Tara left empty. A sense of awkwardness settled in the air. The conversation was fine when you and Tara were part of it, now it seemed to struggle to find its feet again. 

“So, how are things? New relationships are kinda foreign to us.” Jeremiah starts. “Nothing like those first few months, am I right?”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far. No unpleasant quirks or habits.” 

“Simone mentioned that the two of you are colleagues and met at work. Were you pining for her for long before you asked her out?”

“It is, uh, was tough for a while before I dared.” Hopefully the two men across from him didn’t notice how he had to correct himself. “I thought I was stuck in the friendzone, honestly. None of my advances seemed to be interpreted the way I hoped and I could never tell if she was interested in me the same way I was in her.”

“You were probably too subtle.” Andrew suggests.

“Probably… It was sort of tough to find an opening when your girlfriends kept setting her up with other guys though.” Xavier teases and points an accusatory finger at them.

“Sorry.” 

“Not our fault.”

Tara dragged you and Simone along and insisted you all use the bathroom at the same time, like you did when you went out when you were younger. Tara was doing her business whilst Simone touched up her makeup in the mirror and you sat quietly on the edge of the bathtub lost in your own thoughts. 

Simone snaps her fingers in front of your face, catching your attention. “I asked you a question.” She laughs, knowing she’s going to have to repeat it. “Xavier seems great! How did you work with him for over a year before asking him out?” 

“I don’t know, didn’t think he’d be interested in me like that I guess.” You don’t give your answer too much thought fearing pondering over it too much might hurt.

“You’re totally getting married.” Tara announces from in front of the mirror where she’s applying one of Simone’s lipglosses over top of what remains of her own. 

“Tara, we’ve been dating for like a month. We’re not getting married.” You exclaim, trying to hide your shock with an awkward laugh.

“No, I have to agree with Tara on this one. He’s completely in love with you, honey.” Simone smirks, but you can tell she’s being serious. Xavier’s performance has certainly convinced them. 

Once you reenter the living room your friends announce their need for refreshments and disappear into the kitchen, but not without announcing that they’ll make something for you so that you can return to your boyfriend faster. 

On your way back to the patio a man appears in front of you, startling you with his height and broad muscly frame. 

“Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He laughs.

“I’m quite jumpy, it’s not your fault.”

“So, you a friend of Simone’s?” You smile and nod at his question. “She’s great, right? I’m so glad Andrew found someone like her. Can’t deny I envy what they have.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in wanting to experience a love like theirs.”

“No, I guess not.” The look on his face tells you he’s made a pleasant discovery. “Does that mean you’re here alone then?”

“Oh, I –” Well, this was unexpected. You can’t exactly tell him you’re here with your ‘fake boyfriend’. He seems nice too, and he’s the first man to introduce himself to you face to face rather than through a dating app in a really long time. 

“She’s not alone, sorry.” Xavier appears by your side and his arm laces around your waist instantly. 

The guy politely nods and steps away.

“What were you going to tell him?” His hold on your waist tightens a bit as he urges you closer.

“I don’t know, honestly.” You glance up at him, surprised to see a look reminiscent of anger on his usually calm face. He’s not looking at you though, his eyes are still following the guy you spoke to. There is only one thing you can think of that would explain his uncharacteristic behavior, and what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t tease him for it. “Xavie, are you jealous?”

“What?” His eyes dart back to yours and all the anger fades. “No, I’m not jealous. I was just looking out for your safety. The guy seemed like a creep.”

“No, he didn’t.” 

“Why would I be jealous anyways, it’s not like you’re actually mine.” He hissed. It was clear he regretted the words the second he spoke them, but they still stung. He was right though, you’re not actually his so of course he’s not jealous. Maybe that guy was creepier than you thought after all. 

Xavier’s voice still rings in your ears as it plays those words on repeat.

‘It’s not like you’re actually mine.’

Why did it hurt so bad to hear him say it? Suddenly the room was suffocating you, his hand on your waist felt like it was burning and slowly melting the synthetic material of your dress. You nudged his hand away from you and you kept your gaze low as you watched it fall away from you before disappearing into the crowd leaving Xavier defeated and alone.

After fifteen minutes with no sight of you, he decided it was probably time for him to leave. Your sudden disappearance was probably your silent way of ending your agreement. There was no need for him anymore. He avoided your friends even though it went against every polite bone in his body to leave without thanking them for inviting him and wishing them a pleasant evening. But he couldn’t give them a reason for why he was leaving already, that was not a part of the discussions you’d had in preparation for this event. The prospect of the two of you having a falling out hadn’t crossed your minds.

The cool night air is pleasant on his flushed skin, heated from the sudden tension with you along with his modest alcohol intake. He wasn’t drunk though, he couldn’t blame his sudden jealousy induced outburst on an excessive amount of drinks, cause he’d only had two. 

Halfway down the driveway Xavier is suddenly approached by two women who look like they’re on their way back inside. The sight of him must have changed their minds.

“Hey, handsome. Why are you out here all by yourself?” One of them slurs, clearly intoxicated. 

“I’m just heading home.”

“Oh, nooo. Stay, please. If the party isn’t fun enough for you we can certainly make it livelier.” The second one trips over her words, even more drunk than her friend. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” His rejection is clearly not convincing enough for them as the first girl suddenly places a hand on his shoulder before slowly dragging it down the length of his arm. “I have to get going now. I hope you have a nice night.” He begins to pull away but the girl keeps tugging at his sleeve and even trails after him when he tries to move.

“Excuse me!” A voice suddenly calls out, your voice. “What are you doing with my boyfriend?” The sight of that girl's hand still clutching Xavier’s sleeve makes you want to puke. 

“He didn’t say he had a girlfriend.” She slurs again.

Xavier opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it “Well, he does so get lost.” She lets go of his arm, but doesn’t seem entirely convinced as she shows no other sign of leaving him alone. 

Without thinking you grab that same sleeve and pull him a few steps away from the persistent women. Unlike with them, he willingly follows your pull. Once you’re satisfied with the distance you’ve created between your boyfriend and the vermin who tried to poison him, you release his sleeve in favor of claiming a secure hold on the collar of his shirt. 

Your lips almost brush against his, close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. It is as if your mind finally caught up with what your body was about to do and paused it right before disaster struck. His lips are right there, you can’t look at anything else, fearing his eyes will tell you something you don’t want to know. 

Xavier is frozen. Wide eyed and panicked. Everything inside him is telling him to lean down and kiss you, to finally feel your lips on his. Out of the corner of his eye he can see that the women who were harassing him have left, thus removing the reason for your behavior. His face scrunches up in agony as he takes your hands away from his collar.

“They’ve left. Thank you for stepping in.” He whispers. 

You don’t move. Why are you not moving? He was certain you’d step away once the threat had passed. Instead he’s met by your pained expression gazing up at him, still close enough to feel your breath mingling with his. 

“Xavier…” Your hands are still held in his and he doesn’t seem like he wants to let go, even when you begin pulling yours back up to their former position by his neck. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll end up doing something I can’t take back.” He pauses to briefly study your face. “I don’t think I can keep pretending this is fake.”

“What?” 

“I… I can't bear the thought of anyone else being with you, touching you, of anyone thinking…" There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he needs to tell you. The fear of your rejection still feels like it's going to consume him. “When I’m close like this. When I touch you. What do you feel? 

“...”

“After tonight, do we go back to just being colleagues?”

“We haven’t been ‘just colleagues’ in ages, Xavie. We’re friends.” Your gaze flickers nervously from his eyes, to his lips and down to the grass under your feet. 

“Is that it? We’re friends.”

You’re about to nod, but then you notice how your fingers have been caressing his neck this whole time. You like how your hands look on his skin, you love the feeling of his on yours. As if he could read your mind, he slowly releases your hands, hoping and praying you’ll keep them right where they are, before he places his own hands around your waist. His grip slowly tightens, bringing your body closer to his.

“If I kiss you right now, will you hate me?” He whispers nervously as he holds you firmly against him.

“No…” 

Then he leans in and closes the final distance between your lips and his. He kisses you slowly, taking the time to savor the feeling of your touch, your breath, the vibration of your hearts beating in sync as if celebrating being reunited with a soulmate. 

Your hands have released his collar in favour of resting at the nape of his neck granting your fingers access to his soft blonde locks. The kiss gets hungrier, more needy, with every passing second. You want him for yourself, you want to take him away from annoying drunks who think they have the right to touch him. They don’t! He’s yours, and he’s been yours for longer than you realize.

“Do you… Want… To leave?” You breathlessly mumble against his lips.

“Mhm.” He replies, never breaking contact.

“Bus?” The word barely makes it past the force of his lips.

“No… Taxi… Faster… No wait.” He kisses you for a moment longer before reluctantly breaking away to arrange your transportation. You don’t make the task easy for him as your lips remain glued to him, leaving desperate kisses along his cheek and jaw before landing on his neck.

The ride back to your apartment was thankfully much shorter in a taxi compared to a bus. You and Xavier had barely been able to sit still, too giddy to contain yourselves. Bodies eager and itching to be close. 

Finally protected by your own four walls you allow yourself to break. All the emotions you had been denying for weeks came flowing out in the form of your hands and kisses all over the man you had unknowingly been hiding from. 

He was not faring much better himself after so many months of wanting you, but never finding the right moment to say it. The first afternoon where you had been practicing he was certain he’d never be able to simply move on after this little act of yours had run its course. Now, it didn’t seem like he’d have to.

The sudden drop from standing to falling caught him off guard. He hadn’t noticed that you had been leading him into your bedroom, too lost in the pure joy of finally kissing you. Once he realized he was currently crushing you with his weight his arms quickly repositioned to act as support as he hovered above you. 

Xavier couldn’t stop smiling, thankfully you seemed to be suffering the same fate. 

“Sooo… Are we still just friends?” He teases.

“Hm, I don’t know?”

“Is this not enough to convince you?” He questions before leaning down to kiss you again.

“Make it believable, Xavie.”

He scoffs at your demand, but he’s not one to turn down a challenge. If you’re still not convinced, he had nothing against putting in the effort to solidify his place.

“I thought –” He mumbles as his lips graze your throat, “-- I’d been quite convincing already.” Then his lips finally rejoin yours. “I didn’t realize you were so hard to please.”

You reach between your bodies and begin unbuttoning his shirt. His gaze follows your hands as they slowly work on undressing him. Xavier considered himself to be quite a patient man, you were currently proving him wrong. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?” He asks, although it almost sounds like a warning. 

“Doing what?” You reply innocently as you release one more button.

“Making me wait even longer than I already have.”

“I’m not making you do anything Xavier.” You smirk up at him, watching as the last slither of his restraint slips away “You can do whatever you want.”

To your surprise, he moves off the bed and simply stares at you. His eyes wander across your body, studying you like you’re his prey. Like he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Whatever I want?” He whispers before tugging you toward the edge of the bed by your knees. He keeps his darkened eyes locked on yours as he holds your right leg with a firm grip and parts it from the other, far enough for him to slot between them. 

His shirt is hanging off his shoulder only held together by the bottom two buttons. Even with some of his chest still covered you can't help yourself and stare at his toned torso. Seeing it properly was far superior to those glimpses you’d gotten when his t-shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to his skin. You needed to touch him, feel his warmth against you. As your desperation grew more obvious under his continuous touch dragging along your bare thighs, so did his stubbornness. 

You had requested to be convinced, he would gladly convince you, thoroughly…

“I know you said I could do whatever I wanted, but –” He takes to his knees in between your legs making sure to keep his hands on you at all times “ – I want to do the things you like.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of him. He notices you staring and maintains eye contact as he places painfully light kisses along your inner thighs, starting by your knee and moving upwards. The warmth of his breath tells you he inches closer and closer to your core where your dress has now partially hidden him from you. 

Soft lips ghost over your underwear and you can feel your skin erupting in goosebumps when his breath reaches the damp fabric. A quiet giggle paired with the light touch of his fingers gliding over your sensitive skin notifies you that he is also aware of the effect he has produced.

“Let me know when I’ve convinced you we’re more than friends.” 

Your legs were repositioned to hang over his shoulders where he held them tightly as if he needed to confirm you were real and not just a figment of his imagination. The fragrance of your skin slowly muddling with his own scent envelops him in a blanket of trust, lust and unspoken promises. The taste of your sweet desire teasing his eager tongue as it finally made contact with your clothed center adding to the wetness of your arousal. Impatient and desperate for more you reach down to tug at your panties, needing them gone and Xavier closer.

He pulls away when he notices you squirming and struggling with disrobing before aiding you in ridding yourself of the fabric. He steps back even further, taking in the sight of you half naked and spread open for him on the bed. Instead of letting himself get carried away by his aching need to properly taste you he crawls back over you on the bed, guiding you along with him until you’re resting comfortably against the pillows. He wants to savour this. To savour you.

The new angle regains your access to his shirt and you quickly undo the remaining buttons as if their continued efforts to keep Xavier hidden from you is a disgrace to the exquisite man above you. You bite your lip in an attempt to hide the dazed smile slowly creeping up on you as your eyes wander across his toned torso, completely in awe at his beauty. Your reaction does not go unnoticed as a soft flush of pink dusts across his cheeks under your tentative gaze. He tucks himself into the crook of your neck, both to hide his flustered response to your ogling and to scatter kisses along your neck. A few kisses evolve into sucks and nibbles strong enough to leave a light bruise, ensuring his claim on you has tangible proof. His hands begin working your dress up your torso and you aid him in removing it completely. Your bra disappears soon after leaving you bare in front of him, completely ready to surrender. 

Xavier ventures back down your body leaving no part untouched by either his hands or his lips as he continues to shower you with lasting evidence of his adoration. He moves slowly, making sure he doesn’t miss a single freckle or scar that has helped turn you into his greatest desire. 

Truly exposed, you melt under his searing touch as his fingers trace every curve and memory that make up the map of you. Somehow both intense and gentle, he takes time to commit the secrets hidden behind the subtle gradients where your skin flaunts a shade slightly darker or lighter than the next. 

Back between your legs he wastes no time before diving into your exposed core, enthralled by its inviting softness and warmth. Your breath hitches as he makes out with your clit, making sure your lower lips are properly cared for. His tongue traces a line from your entrance back up to that sensitive bundle of nerves where he sucks gently. Soft whimpers uncontrollably roll off your tongue mixed with the sound of your laboured breathing, a sound so intoxicating Xavier hums needily into you, sending the vibrations through every nerve in your body. Being quiet was proving to be impossible with how his tongue and lips pleasured you so beautifully, but you did your best to be mindful of the neighbors. 

Your hips pressed themselves firmly against his tongue as your hands subconsciously found their way into his hair when your climax hinted at its imminent arrival. His hold on the supple flesh of your thighs, taut against the restraint of his fingers grew nearly firm enough to bruise as he fought against the growing tremble in your legs. 

Whimpers grew louder and breaths more erratic with each deliberate lap of his tongue. The previous regard for the sensitive ears of your neighbors was reluctantly abandoned when you simply ran out of capacity to remain quiet. Wanton moans and strangled cries of pleasure blanketed the room in a layer of sin. The sound of your unrestrained satisfaction along with the addictive taste of you coating his tongue fueled Xavier’s determined movements along with his own aching arousal still trapped inside his trousers. 

“Xavie! I’m – fuck, I’m so close. I’m gonna…”

Before you could even finish your warning the coil inside you snapped as Xavier brought you to your climax. The white hot burn danced through your veins and burst like stars behind your closed eyelids. Deep exhales of relief replaced your previously shallow breaths along with the tense muscles in your body slowly relaxing into the mattress. Xavier worked you through the waves of your orgasm until you tugged him off by his hair. His exhales felt cool on your wet skin as he kissed your sensitive nub a final time, savoring the thrill of being nuzzled between your legs whilst also slightly disappointed to be denied of further indulgence. 

“Did you like that?” He asks as he rests his chin on your thigh, gazing innocently up at you, fully aware of the fact that he is not innocent at all. 

You roll your eyes at him, confident that your body gave a sufficient answer to his question. 

“Xavier, please.” You whisper.

“Please, what?” He teases whilst gliding his index finger across your lower abdomen, at times letting it slip dangerously close to your sensitive folds. “Tell me what you want, buddy.”

“Buddy?”

“Yes, we’re just friends, aren’t we?” He smirks and you can’t resist rolling your eyes at him again.

He dramatically sighs, pretending to sulk at your lack of compliance. When his darkened eyes find yours again, they seem just as eager as before and ready to continue challenging your view on your ‘fake’ relationship. A challenge he is fairly certain he has already won, and you know he has. 

“Get out of my bed.” For a split second you can see him questioning every decision he’s made since he entered your room, shocked at the coldness of your tone. “Get out of my bed and don’t come back until you’re naked. It’s not fair that you’re still wearing trousers, Xavie.”

He scoffs but obeys your request and leaves to stand at the foot of your bed. You take in the mesmerizing sight of him as he begins removing his final layers. 

“Did you want me to do a little dance too?”

“Hm, maybe next time.” You tease.

“Next time?” His boxers drop and he’s naked in front of you, revealing every solid inch of him to your hungry eyes.

Scrambling to your knees you grab him by the nape of his neck and tug him down to meet your lips in a desperate kiss. You’re done teasing, done with this silly game you’ve been playing these last few weeks. You want him, all of him. He plants his knees on the mattress next to yours, pressing your bodies close without breaking the kiss. His breathing stutters at the feeling of his cock slipping between your folds, gliding easily coated in your wetness. With one hand planted securely at the back of your head to keep your lips connected to his, you both begin the journey back to being horizontal. 

“I need to be inside you.”

You instantly reached for his hard length, far too desperate to let him take his time and risk that he’d keep toying with you. He grunted at the feeling of your fingers firmly wrapped around him, finally succumbing to his own lust.

“I.. fuck… I don’t have a condom.” The words caught in his throat as they fought their way out against the distraction of your hand between his legs.

“Nightstand.” You whispered against his collarbone where you’d been leaving a few little marks to match your own.

He pulled back a bit causing you to pause your movements. 

“Why do you have condoms?” He questions, almost like he doesn’t approve of you engaging in safe sex. 

“What kind of question is that, Xavie?”

“I’m just curious as to who you would have been using them with?”

“It’s a new box. I haven’t been using them with anyone. Thanks for reminding me of my sad, lonely life, buddy.” You can’t help but laugh at the petulant look on his face.

“Well –” He reaches over and grabs a handful of the little metallic packets “ – I’ll make sure you get your money's worth. I’ve got your back, buddy.”

Condoms scatter the left side of your bed, glistening like stars in the low lighting, the brightest one remains in his hand before the metallic sheen drops like a shooting star. Leaning back down he positions himself back between your legs and teases your opening with his latex covered tip.

Your legs tangle around his waist, urging him forward. He inches in slowly, letting you get used to his size as he stretches you open. Encouraged by your simultaneous sighs of pleasure, he picks up his pace and buries himself fully inside your warmth. Your nails dig into his shoulders at the delicious feeling of being filled so perfectly. His hips move steadily, letting you feel the push and pull of his cock against your opening. But you need more.

“Harder, Xavie.”

“Harder? You want more, buddy?” 

“Stop calling me that – ah!” You screech in annoyance before his trusts turn relentless at your command causing you to cut yourself of with a moan.

“Oh, you don’t like that? How about –” thrust, “ – pal?” Thrust, “bro?” Thrust, “partner?”

“Xavier, shut up!” 

You're holding on by a thread as he leans in, teasing you with the promise of a kiss but instead he grins against your lips, mumbling "Believe me yet?”

“Yes!” You cry out, utterly dazed.

“Not faking it anymore?” 

“No! I want you, I need you as more than a friend.” 

“Good, cause I will not be able to pretend this never happened.”

He keeps pounding into you with his impressive stamina. His rhythm remains steady until he can feel you clenching around him and your back arching off the mattress pressing your breasts up against him. 

“You close?” He breathes against your neck.

“Mhm!” 

“Good, good – ah! Me too.” He kisses your neck roughly, making sure to leave another mark. This one will be hard to cover, perfect. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna…”

The sounds of his pleasure coaxes you over the edge with him and with a few final, frantic thrusts, he collapses into your arms. His lips blindly search for yours, warm and swollen, yet he pulls you close still eager for more. When your lips eventually part you find his eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion. Evidence of your claim on him litters his neck, his hair is ruffled and messy from your desperate fingers tangling with it. A light layer of sweat glistens on his forehead and coats the expanse of his back, making him feel cool to the touch. He smiles up at you, proudly announcing that he’s right where he wants to be.

“I’m not done convincing you yet. I just need a minute.” He whispers unconvincingly as he rests his cheek on your chest. 

“Believe me Xavie, I am thoroughly convinced. We’re not going back to being just friends after this.” 

“Oh…” He looks disappointed “But I was looking forward to working hard to make you believe me. This was almost too easy. I had so many fun tricks I wanted to show you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, I was going to treat you to a nice dinner. And I was thinking we might go back to that little cafè you like so much. I know we’ve been there together before but this time I could hold your hand whilst we waited in line. You know, to really make it believable. Guess that’s not necessary anymore.”

“Xavier?”

“What?”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

He peeks up at you through his lashes and smiles contently before settling back on your chest. Your fingers trail up and down his back, stroking softly along his spine.

“I’m ready to be yours, Xavier.”

AN: Still very new to the smutty stuff, hope it was ok 🫣 Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @babyx91 @lemurianmaster @morrigan87 @dawnbreakerswife @sylusgworl @seraphimcollections @plzdonutpercieveme @dailydoseofanimeawesome @paneratargaryen4312 @sapphic-daze @marinenox

The outfit was a deliberate move from you. You had planned it the moment you realised he was asleep on the couch. You decided that instead of waking him like you usually would to teach him how to cook without burning the apartment down, you’d instead give him a surprise to wake up to. 

You blame ovulation, you just haven’t gotten to spend that much time with him since you’re both so so busy. Your fingers and vibrator definitely weren’t enough to substitute for the immense pleasure he gives you. Why not give him a little treat?

Xavier can feel himself throbbing in his pants by the time he reaches the kitchen. He doesn’t even have to glance down to know that his length is poking hard against his sweatpants forming a large tent. Judging from how the pulsation and heat down there is growing by the second, he’s definitely leaking precum from his slit.

His mouth waters at the sight of you simply humming to yourself while you chop away at the vegetables on the cutting board. Each and everything you do brings his cock to an almost painful throb.

The way your ass looks so soft and plush and barely hidden beneath his sweater— his sweater— boils deep in his core, so deep that all the blood rushing straight to his cock gets him lightheaded. 

His hands start grabbing the air in state of being half-sleepy half-horny for you. If you could just bend over just a little bit—

And you do. Fuck yes, you do.

You drop the your knife to the floor, quickly hopping on the spot to avoid the blade. In your eyes, you dodged a very sharp bullet. In Xavier’s, you just drove him deeper into his insatiable abyss of hunger for you.

The jump alone pushed the sweater up as far as your waist, revealing that delicious curve of your ass, your hip dips that he loves to lick and grip on, and your spine— fuck, he loves staring at your back.

“Oh my fuck,” You cuss under your breath and bend over to pick it up. The remaining blood in his brain is about to shoot out of his nose. He could cum on the spot. Being blessed with such a sight of your cunt openly greeting him makes his knees buckle. Drool is dripping from the corners of his mouth. Fuck.

Xavier has to fight the urge to just moan out loud from the sight alone. The way his cock keeps bouncing inside his sweats rubbing his tip against the fabric doesn’t make the situation any easier for him. He’s glued to the spot, hypnotised, enamoured, pussy drunk before he even gets a taste of you.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” He mutters under his breath. Not even a blink later Xavier finds himself on his knees right behind you— he teleported because he was mentally stuck to the ground. 

You obviously sense the change in the air, along with the new sense of warmth radiating right behind you.

“Xavier- oh.” You glance over your shoulder to find him nuzzling his head on your thighs, rambling incomprehensible words so fast you can barely catch on. A warm wet slither travels up your thighs and close to your core.

“Let me have a taste.” His whines. It would have been a command if it wasn’t for how high pitched his voice becomes each time he speaks. “Fuck, let me taste— please, let me taste."

Smiling to yourself, you sigh in relief that he finally woke up. “Of course, baby, take what you need.”

His mind snaps, shatters, splits into pieces—your affirmation is everything he needs to hear to plant his face between your cheeks and slither his tongue right into your cunt.

You both moan shamelessly from the contact, Xavier from tasting you and you from feeling you after so, so long. You hand immediately drops to his head to push him closer and closer, his hands fondling and squeezing your ass like a stress toy. It’s the only thing keeping him from stroking himself.

His hips jut up your leg in rhythm, bringing him to rut on you and spread his pre all over you through his soaked sweatpants.

“So good.” His muffled voice praises you. “You taste so good, fuck.” 

Your grip tightens on the soft tufts of his hair, burning hot into his scalp from his fingers reaching your bud of nerves. He circles, pinches, and rubs at your clit like he’s desperately trying to make you cum as quickly as possible.

“Xavier,” You whine, practically grinding on his face making his head bob in tandem with your needy ruts. “Need you inside.”

Literally anything you say can be a buzzword in his ears. Xavier shoots up to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that strikes his body in a flash to push his sweatpants down low enough for his cock to audibly slap his abdomen. 

His cock continuously bounces up and down, smacking his skin with his leaky tip to create a sticky string connecting his cock to his stomach. The lewd imagery is riveting, mind numbing, he can barely think straight. He doesn’t even notice you aligning his cock with your hand, stroking him while his brain goes dumb from desire.

“Snap out of it!” You hiss, practically losing balance from how much your pussy aches for him. “Xavier!”

A switch must have gone off to have him immediately slip inside until he bottomed out fully inside you. His arms wrap tight around your waist and he immediately ruts into you like he’s got a point to prove.

“‘M gonna make you feel real good, baby.” He groans, licking a wet stripe of spit up the length of your neck to your jaw. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

ZAYNE

Zayne can feel himself losing threads of his control. He can feel his cock beginning to strain against the confines of his slacks. 

All because you’re bending over to pick up a fork he dropped. 

It wasn’t on purpose, he swears. It was just that his hand slipped while he was talking to you. One long look at that beautiful face of yours, watching you laugh and his hand slips pushing the fork to the floor. He can’t help himself, he’s just so down bad when it comes to you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to stand and reach to pick it up, despite him telling you it’s okay. What he really hadn’t seen coming was that you’d turn away from him and bend over, showing that you were barely wearing anything underneath your skirt.

And by barely, there was a very clear opening of the crotch area revealing your pussy to his eyes and his alone.

By the time you stand up straight, ice was creeping up his neck to cool his face down and reduce the blatant blush spreading across his face and ears. 

“You okay?” You ask as you place the fork back down by his plate. You fight the muscles on your face to keep yourself from grinning. Zayne only nods as if the ice has stiffened his neck.

You chuckle to yourself, he’s so cute. If it isn’t the sugar he relishes in consuming whenever he gets the chance, it’s how flustered he gets. Cheeks reddened, struggling to maintain eye contact… it’s all so cute until he starts to get back at you for putting him in that state.

You begin to turn away until his hand catches your wrist, grip cold and needy. Before you can even ask, you find yourself being tugged towards him, hearing the faint ruffle of his pants being unzipped and then the soft schlick of your cunt being stuffed by his cock.

“Not a sound.” His voice is cold as steel yet dripping with desire, holding you down tight by the waist to stop you from moving. You can just feel him twitching inside you. 

“I could’ve held back and waited until we reached the car but seeing you in that lace,” He adjusts, jutting his cock up deeper into you but not giving you the pleasure of fucking you good in the middle of the cafe. “Seeing that delicious pussy… you must be shameless.”

Feeling a slew of moans brimming at the back of your throat, you bite your lip hard enough to make it bleed just to hold yourself back. You wanted this the entire time but you didn’t expect it to happen this early. Not to mention literally sitting in a full cafe while cockwarming your lover.

If anything, the goal you had in mind was to get him riled up enough to humble you in his car. This, however, looks like it’ll be so much better.

“You’re getting so wet, my love.” Zayne whispers, feeling more at ease as his evol relaxes. His lips press hot kisses on the shell of your ear. His breath is hot on your skin and his once ice cold hands tighten their hold on your waist. “Is sitting on my cock in front of all these people turning you on?”

You won’t lie, it is turning on. You’re soaked through and through to the point where your arousal slick is dripping onto his pants. If it isn’t the way he’s teasing you in that hushed sexy voice of his, it’s his girthy length pulsating deep inside you.

Your walls involuntarily clench on him, making squelches loud enough for the couple in the booth behind you to hear. Zayne can feel his control slipping, feeling the plush of your ass so comfy on his lap, the way your pussy is just clamping tight on him— he just has to remind you to behave.

He raises your hips just a bit and slams you back down on his cock with a soft plap. You both have to swallow your noises of pleasure. Zayne can’t help himself but fondle your ass beneath your skirt, feeling that soft flesh that he loves so much.

“Zayne,” You whimper, feeling your core tighten in heat. “I need you.” There’s only so much discipline you have when it comes to cockwarming him— and being in a literal public space doesn’t make the matter any easier.

“Talk to me, darling.” Zayne murmurs, nudging your legs apart with his knee to grant himself access to your throbbing clit. Discreetly under the table, his fingers find your sensitive nub covered by sheer lace and gently rubs and teases you in cruel, rough circles.

“This is what you wanted, no?” He muses, now using two fingers to pinch and pull at your clit while his hips twitch into yours— a clear indicator of him being close. He would never admit it out loud, but the risk was turning him on too.

“After all that teasing, wearing those panties here for me to see, you didn’t think I’d give you just what you need?”

Before you can even muster a response, loud screams erupt around you followed by scrambles of people rushing to leave the cafe. You both snap out of your trance to see wanderers lurking outside the cafe and citizens rushing to escape.

Out of impulse, you move to stand up only to be held back down, deeper into Zayne’s length.

“Zayne, the—“

“Look, hunters have already been dispatched.”

You glance out the window to see a hoard of hunters already in battle against the wanderers, swiftly moving people out of the way. Mind still fuzzy from being stuffed, you ease back into his embrace.

“And since the cafe’s empty…” Zayne grins into your nape and presses a wet kiss on your skin. His hands roughly push your skirt high up your waist, relishing in the sight of your plump ass so close to him. 

He pumps his cock right into your cunt, shamelessly moaning into your ear as you whine from his ministrations. “Let’s take care of this needy pussy.”

RAFAYEL

He probably shouldn’t have asked you to join him in the bath.

Yes, you hadn’t seen him in a week, and yes the only time you could see him without disruption was coincidentally his bathing time. Buuuuuut… a little bath wouldn’t hurt, right?

WRONG! Rafayel can feel his cock rising beneath the water. He’s struggling to think. Look at you, reaching for the shampoo on the little side table next to the bath. Stretching so nice that he can watch droplets of water cascade down your spine and fall into the crack between your plump ass cheeks.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s seen you naked more than enough times to be well accustomed to seeing your posterior— he’s painted you like this more than fifty times. But this particular sight is something that not even paint can accurately capture.

He watches you spread your legs wider, exposing your core right to his hungry eyes.

“Fuck.” Rafayel curses under his breath. He wraps his hand wraps tight around his cock, slowly pumping his shaft beneath the water.

“What’s wrong?” You muse, wriggling your hips just enough to make your ass bounce and smack the water.

Just enough to tease him. Just enough to make him lose his patience, grab you by the hips and fuck you so good that half the water in the tub ends up splattered on the floor— along with a few other fluids.

You know just how much Rafayel loves your ass, plump and soft just for him to fondle and nibble on. You’d found paintings scattered around his studio and even more bound within his sketchbooks, all having a small note of his insatiable thirst for you.

Don’t get him started on the view he gets when he takes you from behind.

He’s shamelessly stroking his cock, feeling the heat of unbearable pleasure surge through his veins. He has a very strong feeling you know what you’re doing, rudely moving like that for him. Precum mixes with water and his breath goes heavy.

“Is it that hard to get shampoo?” He huffs in a huskier tone, one you easily recognise as him getting more aroused. “Can’t be that hard, cutie.”

“Can’t seem to reach it,” You deliberately whine, dramatically arching your back for the water to collide with your skin like a wave crashing with the shore. All that work and Rafayel just doesn’t seem to budge.

“Uh huh.” He’s in a daze. Eyes locked like glue on your ass, watching your sweet nectar start to drip from your core, almost as if your pussy could sense the rise of desire in his cock. You are his bride, after all. It’s only natural to share each other’s desires.

“Just— just keep trying.” His words slur as the sounds of his hand stroking his cock grow louder just enough for you to hear. “You’ll get it.”

The splashing and rhythmic pumps definitely catch your awareness, and that only irritates you more. Why isn’t he doing anything about it? You softly grunt and snatch the shampoo from the counter, ensuring you lean back directly above his crotch. 

“Got it!” You grin and glance over your shoulder. And my, my, my, is he a sight for sore eyes.

His cheeks are flushed redder than a tomato, his hand shamelessly jerks away at his length to pleasure himself while his eyes are locked on your ass.

“You were ignoring me on purpose!” You huff, hitting his face with water to catch his attention.

“Do you even know what you do to me when you act like this?” Rafayel releases his cock from his grip and holds your hips to align your pussy with his throbbing length. “I just had to wait for you to come back.”

You can feel your eyes twitching. “I wanted you to lean over me and fuck me senseless, Raf, why do you think I was taking so long?!” 

“Oh.” There he goes with that faux shock. “I thought you were just struggling. Wasn’t really surprised. But now that I know what you want…”

He swiftly pulls you onto him while raising his hips, filling you to the brim with his cock. He doesn’t waste any time to start snapping his hips to pound his cock as deep as it can possibly go— which isn’t that hard considering you’re soaked like a fucking sponge.

Your eyes roll as soon as he hits that delicious sensitive spot instantly, moans ripping from your throat to echo around his bathroom like a lewd symphony. His leaky cockhead continuously pokes that gummy spot as if it’s target practice. You can barely keep up with how hard he’s going, your balance keeps slipping from being half submerged with water despite the death grip you have on the edges of the tub.

“Rafa—“ Choke on your moans, practically hypnotised by the way the water moves with you, drenching you, him, and the floor completely. His thick length just stretches you out so so good you can barely think straight, your only ambition is to squeeze around him tight enough to memorise each vein— as if you haven’t already.

“Not— fuck— not gonna last long—“ Even better for you. You want to have him fill you up, that’s what you’ve been aching for the entire time.

“Don’t hold back,” You squeeze around his cock tighter forcing your walls to clench as hard as you can, stringing out a noise from his lips that sounds like a mix of a moan and a whimper. “Want you to cum deep inside.”

The water jumps out of the bathtub and up Rafayel’s thighs as your hips roll in tandem with his thrusts, landing a noisy slap of his sacks against your clit— only bringing you closer to unravel on his cock. 

The schlap schlap schlap of soaked skin colliding in an obscene tempo begins to create a symphony in his head that he forces himself to memorise. The pieces he could create from the sounds of your pleasure could make audiences break down into tears.

“Gonna fill you up good,” Rafayel muses right into your ear. “All that teasing… you deserve it, don’t you?”

You can barely speak from how hard you’re going, grinding your hips on his to chase your pleasure while bringing him to his own undoing. All you can do is nod, and that’s all the signal he needs to keep going.

And he won’t stop for a while.

SYLUS

You have no business bending down like that.

Especially not on his bed. In one of his many tailored shirts that barely cover your torso because it keeps slipping off your shoulder. Bending over his bed to reach for your book.

Why were you bending over in such a scandalous position? It’s simple, really. You threw your book off the bed in the midst of your cuddle/reading session because you read an unexpected plot twist. A very erotic plot twist.

Sylus had made a soft yet audible whine when you pried his hands off your waist but his little noises — which only you have the privilege of hearing — fell to silence when you crawled to the edge of the bed and leaned right over the edge, leaving the image of you straddling air for him to consume.

“Need help, sweetie?” Sylus muses as he watches your struggle, both amused and aroused. A very familiar hardening length is starting to push out of his robe’s parted front— and he conveniently decided not to wear anything apart from his robe tonight. 

“Nope.” You huff over your shoulder. The book is more than an arm’s length away— why did you throw it so aggressively? 

You’d been in that position for longer than you intended, fully absorbed on the goal of taking your book. What’s taking you so long was the fact that you are about to fall off the bed. Feeling gravity attempt to pull you to the floor (again), you swiftly wiggle your ass as you move your legs bit by bit to push you further into the bed.

All Sylus can see is the ricochet of your soft cheeks with each movement. It takes so much deep restraint to not crawl to you and bite your ass just for the fun of it. 

 But he’ll have to distract himself even if his eyes refuse to look away. “How’s the search going?”

“Terribly.” You huff— but it sounds more like a suppressed moan from stretching your body to abnormal lengths to reach for that damn book.

That just makes it worse for your poor kindred lover. His hard on reveals itself by pushing his robe out of the way— that’s just how strong his love and desire is for you when you unintentionally tempt him. Now imagine what happens when it’s deliberate. 

He doesn’t even try to touch himself, knowing the eventual slick noises will catch your attention. It’s becoming unbearable to watch you in the midst of your hunt, trying to keep his eyes on you when all he can see is your arched back accentuating the curve of your ass all while his length twitches and leaks in his peripheral. 

Each movement of your reaching forward or rebalancing yourself made your flesh jiggle. Every. Single. Movement. That plush, softness that he’d always grip on tight when you clench on him hard, or that he’d smack soft or hard when he aches to hear you moan so deep in his ear that it’s engraved into his every thought. 

When you move one more time, if you jiggle that ass one more time— and you eventually do— Sylus closes his eyes in blissful resignation. 

Fuck it.

Smack!

It’s been hours. Hours since he pounced on you.

His hand collides with your cheeks to watch that delicious, cock throbbing ricochet that makes him harder and harder than he’d like to admit.

You’re hours deep into him being deep inside you, still bent well over the edge of your bed with the only thing keeping you in place being his powerful grip on your hips.

“I feel like you did that on purpose.” Sylus purrs and pulls your hips flush against his to ensure you can feel the curve of his cock dive into your pussy with each powerful thrust. “You could’ve hopped off the bed— ffuck— and yet-“ smack! “You chose to be a tease instead.”

You can only respond with a giggle that sounded more like a moan. Blood is rushing to your head like a current, your hands grip the bedding to claw at every time he pounds your weeping pussy harder and harder just how you like it.

Was it intentional? Maybe.

In your defence, you did actually throw the book out of shock. You were about to simply hop off the bed to make it quick but you had stopped and came up with the idea to tease your lover. Just a little bit. You did neglect the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that you wore and that the book made you wetter than you’d like to admit.

Another thing you underestimated was that Sylus is down horrendously bad for you. So down bad that seeing your pussy glisten in the dimmed lights while you’re bent over the edge of the bed would drive him mad. 

“Took— took you long enough!” You whined as a harder push of his hips almost threw your off the bed, bringing you closer to your edge (for the fifth time tonight). 

The position you are in is just too good. The bed’s already soaked through and through with cum from both of you that somehow managed to leak out of your hole while he’s been plowing you. Your skin is warm and sticky with sweat and slick adding extra deliciously maddening friction for every time your hips collide.

Sylus is grinding— no, rutting on your ass, moaning loud into your ear from how soft and cushy it feels, how your pussy literally swallows his cock and refuses to let him out. 

“Keep squeezing me like this and we’ll end up making a big mess, Kitten.” He seethes, bending over your body to lick the shell of your ear while his cock still ravages you, dragging through your gummy walls until its shape is ingrained in you.

“S-Sy!” You whine. You can feel yourself falling. At an instant, a gust of black and red mist swirls round your body and raises you both to keep you in place. 

“Relax, I got you.” That purr is more than enough to make you cum again. “I’m not done yet. You teased me with this pretty ass of yours.” Another smack! hits your skin— you’re sure it’ll leave a mark of his hand.

“I plan to make the most of it tonight.”

CALEB

He can literally smell your arousal in the air. 

It’s not even like you’re doing anything. He can just smell it. 

That sweet musk that he chases to inhale whenever he does your laundry. That delicious scent the snorts into his brain whenever his face is locked between your legs slurping up your slick to satiate his thirst that only you can provide. 

You aren’t doing anything. Just lying on the couch. Legs spread. Wearing as little as a crop top and one of his favourite panties. One that he’s definitely used for other purposes. 

Lying on the couch with a pillow underneath your abdomen to keep you comfy while you scroll away on your phone. Lying on the couch with your ass up in the air, panties bunching in to accentuate your curvaceous form.

You aren’t doing anything. And that’s the problem.

Your legs hang casually over his lap, directly above his crotch. You can literally feel his boner growing beneath you but you’re playing it off, pretending you don’t even notice. Pretending you don’t even notice the strain in his voice, the need brewing in his core like a pot boiling over onto the stove.

“D-Do you mind, uh—“ Caleb stops himself before a moan slips out from his lips. His knuckles are about to turn white from how hard he’s gripping the couch to stay in place. Anything to stop his hips from acting out of their own accord.

“Huh?” You stretch your legs right over his bulge, making sure you rub just enough to build up friction. You’re such a tease.

Caleb’s rendered speechless. He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing heavy through his nostrils to gather some level of control. Jokes on him, that flew out the window the moment he saw your ass.

He can’t seem to stop staring at it. Seeing how you naturally get wet just from being within his proximity, how your slick coats your underwear and exaggerates the puff of your pussy lips especially when you’re horny, how he can literally smell it—

“Caleb?” 

His throat goes dry hearing his name leave your lips. Not even, he’s salivating. Literally dribbling from the mouth like he saw a meal after weeks of not eating. He might as well assume that is the case.

“Yeah?” He chokes out while forcing himself to pull his gaze away from your ass. What was he trying to ask earlier? “Oh— you mind moving your legs a bit? I need to stretch.”

“Stretch?” You innocently ask — but that grinch-like grin slapped on your face only widens. “You just sat down.”

That is just all the confirmation he needs to know you’re doing this intentionally. He sighs and grips your thigh. Tight.

“I’m going to turn over and eat you out through your panties if you don’t let me stand up.” 

You didn’t expect him to fold that quickly. Usually, when either of you play this teasing game, it can take up to hours for either of you to fold— be it literally grinding on each other or using subtle innuendoes. This time, he looks extra needy for you.

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, wondering if he’s joking. He’s not. His eyes are practically turning another colour from all that arousal brimming deep within him, not to mention the his hard length raging in his pants.

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, gracing him with a Cheshire grin. Caleb doesn’t even bother speaking. He plants his face right onto your clothed cunt while the rest of his body follows suit, laying comfortably in a makeshift sniper position to eat your pussy until you soak the couch.

“Fuck yeah.” His breath is hot on your skin, prickling goosebumps all over your body. 

He can hear the squelching gush of your arousal spill out of your pussy like a bursting faucet. His tongue slurps up a taste of your desire through your panties, suckling as much of your taste through the fabric as he can.

He might ruin this pair of panties but he’s more than happy to take you out to buy replacements— just to ruin them later. 

Your taste is divine, heavenly. He could worship you every damn day if you ask him to. He’d do anything to drown in your taste, your scent, in you. It all just feels too good not to rut his cock on the bed like a dog in heat.

“Oh, fuck, Caleb,” You sigh into the cushion trapped between your arms, bucking your hips back for him to ravage you completely. No matter how many times either of you try to tease each other, nothing beats the satisfaction that comes from breaking.

The way his clothed cock just perfectly fit in the junction between the cushion and couch is mouth watering. Eating you out while the stimulation going off in his cock like alarms is more than enough to make him cum, but he’d never waste his seed on something that isn’t you.

Caleb reluctantly pulls his face away from your core and strokes himself while he aligns his cockhead with your sobbing cunt. “I think I’m gonna ruin these panties, baby.”

“No, they’re my favourite!” You whine at the feeling of his cock rubbing up and down your clothed cunt, the stimulation from how wet you are makes your back arch like a cat. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t worry,” You can practically hear the smile spread on his face as he leans over you to press his cockhead into your cunt, pushing his panty-covered tip inside. “I’ll just fuck your panties a little bit. Then I’ll give you just what you need.”

The mere heat of his tip throbbing inside you drives you into a lust-dazed frenzy. You hump your hips in tandem with his short, torturous thrust, relishing in his swallowed moans from how your soaked panties rub on him just right. 

“So tight,” He whines into your ear, arm slithering under your head to put you in a gentle headlock, just the way you like it. “Pussy’s so tight— fuck—“

Caleb’s arm slides between you to tug your panties to the side then slides his cock right inside, slow and deep. The tight fill just burns so good that you both make noises loud enough for anyone outside the house to hear. 

“This is so mmmuch better,” You smile into his arm. 

“Yeah?” The muscles of his biceps and triceps bulge as he tightens his headlock on you. You choke on your breath just as his cock starts to pound into your cunt, wet plaps from his hip smacking your ass sounding in the living room. “Good. We’re gonna stay like this. Nice ’n snug. Til neither of us can think."

You’ve been side-eyeing him the entire two hours, wondering who the fuck this handsome man is, and why he is leaning so far away from you. Do you stink? You definitely put deodorant on this morning, brushed your teeth, and put perfume on! Surely not. Daring another quick peep, he was doing it AGAIN! He’s almost fully rotated on the chair, fingers perched up to his chin like he’s having some deep, introspective thought about this below-average lecture. Why is it giving that one scene in Twilight? Rude as fuck, actually. 

And then it happens: that stupid side-effect from that Wanderer.

Everyone in the conference room is gone. You are straddled on Valko’s lap, blouse ripped wide open, skirt sitting up around your waist, panties pulled to the side, riding the absolute shit out of him. Your hands are braced on his shoulders for support, his mouth permanently attached to your pulsepoint, inhaling your smell as he fucks up into you, needing to be closer, needing to hear you scream—

Oh my god. 

You immediately go red, and like a mirror, shift in your seat so he can’t see your sudden flustering. You knew once the conference was over, there was going to be a damp patch left on your chair.

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Sylus 

You’re undercover at an auction, and wouldn’t you know it, guess who else is here? To his surprise, you’re in a suit, sharp yet flattering. The next item to be called is an old desk, beautifully crafted from some kind of sturdy hardwood, but what kind you have no idea.

Well, Sylus does. It’s walnut, and it is quality. 

You’re seated on the edge of it. Pants gone, tits out, blazer ON, Sylus kneeling in between. His mouth is on your aching cunt, drowning in you, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you open. Because you’re quivering, pathetically trying to clamp your legs shut, the overstimulation too much. Too bad. He wants to see how long you can take him, how far you’re willing to go… his ego needs to know how many times he can make you cum with just his tongue. If you give him one more, he’ll give you his fingers next—

“Fifty thousand,” his rich voice calls out.

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Xavier 

He checks in on you the SECOND he hears what happened. He manages to catch you as you leave the med-ward, confirming that the strange Wanderer slime isn’t toxic. With the all-clear, you mention that all you want right now is a nice, steamy shower. You roll your head back with a dreamy sigh, exposing the column of your throat, your body shifting in a way that really emphasises your figure…

(Look, the man just can’t help it, ok? His attraction for you is off the CHARTS, and he is YEARNING for a chance to ask you out… but, bless his soul, he’s also incredibly horny.)

You’re in the shower together, tendrils of steam coiling about you both. Xavier is behind, that thick cock of his pressing against the plush of your ass while he massages your shoulders with soap… His fingers sculpt your muscles, slowly gliding down so he can grope your boobs next. He presses his lips against your nape, tongue running up to catch the trickles of leftover sweat… Teeth tug your earlobe, giving you full body shivers, and you end up grinding back on him, needing him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck the absolute life out of you—

Your clothes are too tight, cheeks definitely red, and you are unable to meet that pretty blue stare of his. 

If that was what he thought about literally standing next to you completely unfazed, all smiley and boyish, what the FUCK did he imagine when he was alone in bed? 

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Rafayel 

All you want is to go to bed, but Rafayel has a showcase tonight, and you have to be there. “No exceptions.” He’d said, arms folded and pouty. 

So, you manage to slip into some pretty thing that is still functional for security, and you make your way over to the gallery. Rafayel is out the front waiting, shooing everyone else who isn't you. The second his eyes meet yours, they flicker down, admiring your outfit… but when his gaze returns to yours again, something happens. 

(What happens is that he is an artist, and he just got hit with some wonderful inspiration.) 

You’re a whimpering, panting mess inside the gallery storage room. He’s got you pinned right against the door, tongue tracing your collarbone as his hands tug the straps of your dress down… he wants to worship you, wants to kiss and lick every inch of your body. For tonight, he’ll settle on your breasts. With the front of you bared for him, he sucks on one nipple, squeezing and kneading the other, all while your fingers are threaded through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, clinging to him, urging him to do more—

You falter mid-step, almost falling face-first into the footpath. Your throat is dry, heart thumping wild inside your head. Approaching Rafayel, you smile, oddly emboldened now that you know what he wants to do to you. 

“You look nice,” he compliments—safe, casual. 

“Nice? Is that all I get?” You give him an offended pout. “Not beautiful? Inspirational? Ravishing?”

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Zayne

You’re late. You practically skip through the hospital halls, rushing but not running, because that’s just not appropriate. Finally, you reach Zayne’s office doors, and without thinking, because you’re frazzled from being late, you barge in. 

Doctor Zayne is seated at his desk, halfway through a chocolate cupcake, some of the icing and crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth. You make eye contact. 

“Busted, Doc,” you tease, your previous anxiety gone. 

He sighs, hiding the dessert back into the top drawer. “I’ve been stressed.”

“There are worse things I could have walked in on, I guess,” you laugh, coming to take a seat. 

Yes, indeed. 

You’re hiding under his desk, that delicious mouth of yours wrapped around his cock, hand gripping what you can’t take. Can't have you gagging on it when someone could walk in, right? You pump at his base, licking and sucking, taking him at a steady pace, drawing out his pleasure as well as alleviating his tension. Because he simply can’t resist, he stops writing his report to caress your cheek, hissing low under his breath as you take him just that little bit deeper down your throat, your quiet moan vibrating through him—

Holy shit. 

You immediately sit up straight, clearing your throat to mask your surprised gasp. Clenching your knees together, you manage a tight smile. 

“Is that why you’re here? You have a cough?” Zayne asks softly, kind. Your friend. 

“Uh, yeah,” you lie, faking another one. “It sucks.”

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Caleb

You’re at a house party, and you thought it would be nice to invite Caleb, since he rarely gets to get out and about in Skyhaven. 

“Pips, where’re you takin’ me?” Caleb slurs, a little tipsy. 

You drag him along, until you both plop down with the group, all neatly sitting in a circle. 

“Truth or dare?” Tara begins, turning to the person next to her. 

And so forth, and so forth. The game continues, people daring and revealing embarrassing stories. The more people drink, the more juvenile it becomes, until it feels like you’re all in college again. Honestly, it’s kind of freeing, and you’re happy to roll with it. 

Eventually, it’s Caleb’s turn, and he turns to look at you. 

You choose dare, and so he dares you to spend seven minutes in heaven with him. You giggle, but you interlace your fingers with him, and before you both know it, you’re pressed up against each other in a small dark wardrobe. Caleb grasps your waist, tugs you even closer as your mouths swallow each other, tongues dancing, drunk on each other’s taste. He could die here. Especially when your hand sneaks down, cupping his bulge, rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. His hands cup your boobs, squeezing gently to start, but as you both get sloppier and twitchy, he grows bolder, kneading you through your thin bra, hips bucking into your touch—

“Truth or dare?” Caleb smirks, taking another sip of his drink.