˚‧ Merely ｡ Lillies ✿’’

You stay like this for a bit, swaying back and fourth, the room spinning slowly. Up until a girl behind Kazuha stumbles and crashes onto his back. Thankfully, her dance partner stabilizes her and Kazuha adjusts himself to prevent falling onto you. You hold onto him tight as he straightens himself up, before you can even ask if he's alright the woman beats you to it. "I'm so sorry, I tripped and failed to catch myself in time-" She was pretty. With a ballgown a scarlet red, the shade matching your own dance partner's hair. Damn. "It's quite alright, please don't worry-" The rest of Kazuha's words drown out as your gaze lands on the woman's escort. Oh fuck. Your eyes met lidded indigo and you immediately felt a shiver run down your spine. You quickly shift behind Kazuha, turning your head away in hopes of salvaging any chance he hadn't seen you. But of course he had, and of course he was bearing his shit-eating smirk. "Actually," that damned cocky tone of his, "I think my lady would benefit from taking a seat, I'm sure we wouldn't want to risk swollen ankle." "No, I'm alri-" "Kazuha, was it?", his smirk widens. Fuck. The man in question perks up. "Would you mind?", And of course the nice gentleman would agree with no qualms, Scaramouche sure knew how to exploit the situation. "I'm sure I can entertain your partner in your stead.", he feigns a polite smile. You knew better. You're doing everything you can to avoid looking at him directly, about to reach out to Kazuha to beg him to stay but he's already smiling at the lady and offering her his hand. You can't help but mentally curse his kindness as he walks her off the dance floor. "May I have this dance." A statement, not a question, as he grabs your hand, not even bothering to wait for you to take his, not even bowing as he does so. Because why would he? Instead he just stands tall before you, looking all too pleased as he pulls you by the wrist. "No." "Too bad." He shifts one hand to your waist, moving you along with him, as you resume swaying to the rhythm. He looked good. Really fucking good. The suit was tailored to him perfectly, accenting his waist, and lean frame, with a button or two undone from his shirt showing his collarbone. His hair was the same length as when you'd last seen him, save for a few lengthier strands pooling at his neck. The purple bangs that fell beautifully on his face, the same red eyeliner he always wore and his lips- Oh his lips. Don't look there. You mentally scolded yourself. "Oh?", he noticed, he always did. "Shut up.", you said with a bite. "I haven't even said anything yet.", he chuckles condescendingly, "Talk about getting all worked up over nothing." "Fuck you", you bark out. "You've changed.", he leans in closer, breath fanning over your cheek, "You're so much more hostile.", he squeezes your hand. You jerk back a little but he holds onto you tightly, "You haven't." "Never needed to", he grins. You could almost feel the smile against your ear. "What a load of bullshit." "Language.", he smiles slyly as other couples turn a couple of heads as they dance, "Sorry, she's a little cranky tonight." This bitch- lifting your foot you aim your heel right at his foot, slipping away from him as his hands instinctively release their grip on you. The last thing you hear as you turn around is a hiss of pain, you walk away ignoring the eyes you feel burning into your back. ____________________________________________

You slam the glass back down onto the counter, not caring whoever the hell was glaring at you for behaving so brash at such an event. Whatever. You couldn't care less. Like any bright minded person; you had turned to alcohol to quiet down your brain. Running into Scara Scaramouche was definetly not what you were expecting. Your boyfriend ex, fuck, always hated these types of events, so what the hell was he doing here?! Truth be told you were never fully over the man. Your breakup had been mutual following a series of petty fights, results of both of your unrivaled stubborn streaks. But he is had been a good boyfriend. He's was always snarky, cocky and sometimes just plain rude. But he cared. A lot. And when he was sweet, he was...No point in thinking about it now. Yet part of you still felt your insides churn at seeing him. Maybe you needed to get your brain rewired. The fact he still had such an effect on you after all this time. He always knew just what made you tick it was infuriatingly hot. Shit. You groan at your never ending thoughts. You were probably two martinis in, your low tolerance was eventually going to catch up to you. Despite it, you raise your hand, waving over the bartender again, who had been giving you a concerned look for a while now. You ignore it. "What can I get you?". Before you can grumble 'another', a hand finds itself on your arm, as you feel warmth settle on your back. "She'll have a water.". You tilt your head up dumbly, seeing Scaramouche hovering above you, his chest against your back. The bartender places down a glass of water on the bar before you can even utter anything in argument. He grabs the cup and slides it in front of you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. "Drink up.". Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

"Are you deaf?", he taunts. "What the fu-" he shoves the rim of the glass past your lips, effectively shutting you up. He tilts it until you've swallowed all its contents, before placing the cup back down with a satisfied smile. "Seriously what is your problem?!" "Oh calm down," he rolls his eyes, "I'm just making sure you don't die of intoxication." You scoff, offended, "I know my limits." you grit out. He cocks his head at that. "Do you now? Because from where I'm standing it sure looks like you were trying your best to get shitfaced regardless of the consequences." "None of your fucking business Scara.", the nickname slipping out like second nature, adding to your growing annoyance. He ignores you, "You're still such a lightweight." He waves over the bartender for another glass. "I'm not drinking that." "Yes you are. You need to sober up. And you'll thank me tomorrow." "You're crazy if you think I'm thanking you for shit." "You're crazy if you think I'm letting you walk out of here like that.", he retorts, leaning in closer. Your face once again falters at his proximity, every bone in your body telling you to back down. "Like what?", You challenge. Maybe the alcohol was already taking effect. He smirks at that, his eyes taking in your unfocused ones before letting out a low whistle; "Like you're completely out of it." "....'m not.", you start to feel warmth trail up your neck. "Are too." "I'm fine." "Yeah? Then why are your eyes so dazed hm? Why're you slurring your words?", he prompts, closing the distance between you two, "Why are you blushing?" "I'm not." "Could've fooled me..", he hums. Heat rises to your cheeks, making swallowing feel harder and harder by the second. You felt your old temper flare again at every word that left his lips. God his lips. "You don't know shit." "I know you." You pause, looking back at him slightly dumbfounded, and that fucking smirk widens.

"My-" Why were you stammering? Was it him the drinks? "My tolerance is better now." "Bullshit.", he cackles. He knew you. And the fact you tried to make it seem like you had changed so much since he last saw you amused him. Sure you did. "You want me to believe you suddenly gained a penchant for alcohol?" You press your lips together, willing down any embarrassment you felt as he stayed so close to you. "You haven't changed. Face it." "How would you know." It's your turn to lean in, as you stare daggers into his eyes. He brushes it off like it's nothing, mirth dancing in his lidded gaze. "Because you're not even hiding it well," He moves in until your foreheads are just millimeters away, his breath fanning over you softly. "It's like you're not even trying. Like you're making it easy on purpose." He brings a hand to your hair, playing with a strand absentmindedly, watching your reaction as blush blooms across your face and darkens with every passing second. "This whole act really is half-hearted huh?". He's practically mocking you, his cocky expression starring back at your perplexed one. "After all.. ", his hand travels down to the side of your neck, his fingers pressing onto your pulse point, as he whispers out his next words. "You're still the same girl who would melt when I called you pretty." ____________________________________________

"We have to turn right at the end of the block, then-", you mumble, leaning half your weight on his shoulder. "I know the way to your house you idiot." he scoffs as if offended. He turns and drives down the block before parking in front of your apartment building. He quickly shuts off the engine, getting out to walk around to your side, opening the car door with a raised eyebrow. "You lost your ability to perform basic actions?", he questions. "You didn't even let me-", and he's already walking away as you stumble out of the car, slamming the door shut after yourself. He clicks the lock button on his car keys as he waltzes through the front door of the building casually, as if he belonged there. You sigh, catching up to him with wobbly legs. A hand surges out to catch your waist, straightening you up. "At least try to look presentable." "You bitch." He only chuckles, glancing past you at the receptionist desk. The lady raising a brow at seeing him again, as he flashes her a smirk. You duck your head low, avoiding the questioning stare she gives you as you walk past her and to the elevators. "Bet she's trying to piece it all together." "Enough." "I wonder if she missed seeing me here almost everyday." he mused. "Scara." You warn. "You ain't gonna do shit.", he grins, tightening his hold on your waist. ____________________________________________

"Let's be realistic now," he chuckles seeing right through you, "you're not into him. You could never be. That's not the person you are." "You and I both know," his kisses travels to your ear as he whispers, "He's too nice, too soft, for you."

How did you even get here? Dress off, sat on his lap—and he's still fully, slack pants and everything—legs on either side of his hips, digging into the mattress as he lays his back onto the headboard casually.

Before you can even straighten out your thoughts his teeth are grazing the side of your neck, the only warning you get before he bites down.

"I- ah- like nice." "Do you now?" he hums sarcastically, seeming uninterested, almost bored with your retort. "Because last I checked," His hands wrap around your waist, squeezing tightly halting the movement you weren't even aware of. "You always reacted best to someone being a little mean to you." Your breath catches as he promptly stops you from chasing any friction, feeling heat run down your spine at having been caught. "Yeah?" "I hate you" you say, but the words escape you with an undeniable breathlessness, exposing you. He laughs, in that annoying, know-it-all tone of his. Before you can pile it on, try and sound convincing, you feel one of his hands leave your waist to slide his palm between your thighs. "But aren't you into that?" Again, its not really a question. "Fuck no." His idle hand suddenly presses up against you. "Weird, because I could've sworn you just got wetter." "I.." You don't even know what to say, you feel so vulnerable, so open, especially when he stares at you like that. Like he knows. "You?" Two of his fingers running a line down your center. "Want this?" He taunts, applying pressure to a spot before continuing to trace lightly. "Want this so badly but are too much of a fucking coward to say it?". You reluctantly nod, hanging your head low, refusing to meet his gaze. "Makes sense." he hums. And for a fraction of a second you genuinely believe he'll have mercy on you. "Afterall," he muses "who wouldn't be humiliated soaking up their ex's lap from just a few words?". When you let out a small noise at that he removes his hand, adjusting you so you sit directly on top of him, your hips flush against his. Before leading his hands down to your thighs lazily. "Go ahead. Take as you please." That damn bastard was going to watch you get all worked up and do nothing about it. And yet you immediately started experimentally rolling your hips. You were wrong, nothing had changed. Or at least how easy you were for him sure didn't. You start off slow, controlling your breathing with every tentative roll. But the neediness in your gut gets the best of you, and soon your rhythm crumbles to desperate little thrusts forward. Every grind reminds you of another night where he held you close and fulfilled your deepest, darkest desires. How good he had felt. What he sounds like when he's feeling good. How he groans deeply but his voice pitches up when you tease the tip. The look he'd give you while lazily fingering you. Or even better, the days he'd get jealous and make sure you'd remember just how good those hands are at getting you off. The mocking praise, the taunts as he tries to rile you up, the smirk when he got the right moan out of you. And fuck you feel yourself clench onto him through the fabric.

"Hah, you seriously close from just this?" He mocks. "How the mighty have fallen, you must really be out of practice huh?" He leans in, a hand coming up to the base of your throat, not squeezing, just making itself known as it cups there. Blood thrums in your veins as he laughs once more, this time a little breathier. "Must be hard not to have anyone who gets you quite like me." His other hand trails back to your hip, pushing down to help your movements grow rougher. Your pace stutters. "No one who keeps you up late at night when your fingers just aren't enough." His hand acting pressing you so harshly against him you clench your thighs trying not to finish right then and there. "No one who understands what makes you tick, what builds that delicious frustration you can't decide whether you love or hate-" He speeds up and all you can think about is how empty you feel. That same damn sensation that nothing you've tried can make it go away. "No one that does what gets you so close you can almost taste it." The hand leaves your neck, both coming to your hips again to easy your movements. A particular harsh grind down onto his bulge, and you feel as though he were trying to kill you with the way blush rushes down to your core. "No one who makes you feel like you've earned it hm?" He grins, one hand trailing down your stomach, slipping two fingers past the cotton of your underwear, smile widening at your gasp.

"No one that makes you feel," His fingers dragging across, collecting strings of slick, "like you really can be-" his eyes finding yours as the two digits plunges into you slowly, but deep. They curl only once. "-the good girl I know you are."

Shit. Fuck. Fuck- Fuck. Fuck.

You blink back at him for a few more moments; for a new intern he sure seemed at ease and much too comfortable in the office. In fact he looked almost smug, like he knew something you didn’t. The elevator bill dings and soon you both file out of the cramped space.

You wave at him before heading down the hall to the lounge area, hoping to grab a coffee with the spare time you had. You got to meet a few nice people, the staff was nothing short of welcoming and friendly, some even seemed excited to be working with you. You felt good, confident even. Maybe the caffeine helped a bit in that department too.

You glance at your watch again. 9:55 am. You should start making your way.

You bid a short goodbye to your new acquaintances and take a right past the lounge towards the office where you had been instructed to meet the person you’d be shadowing. You find yourself standing before the door to the office, a small metal sign placed on the wood, engraved in cursive.

Tetsurou.

You continued to stare at the label, contemplating all the preparations that would lead to this meeting. Your focus going undisturbed, even as padded footsteps become more and more audible. Before your hands can become clammy, you straighten out your shirt and finally reach for the handle. As you’re about to grasp it, you feel an arm brush past yours and take hold of the metal bar before you. You startle, slowly allowing your gaze to follow the hand all the way back up to the person’s face before you visibly still.

The guy from the elevator. He smiles down at you, polite and charming as he fully turns the handle and swings the door open. You blink at him once, twice— “Ladies first.” He encourages.

( . . . )

“What?” He grins, “Don’t tell me you’re actually shocked, didn’t you do your research before coming here?”

As you try to sputter together words as a response, he just chuckles, and glances at the now closed door before turning his gaze back to you. Suddenly, he gets up from his chair and walks around to you, before stopping right next to your chair and leaning back onto the edge of the desk. He looks down at you, observing you for a bit before grinning again.

“So,” he starts, “Should I be nervous?”. You feel yourself flush at his mocking. How were you supposed to know he wasn’t just another intern?! When you don’t answer, he presses on. “If you ask me, I’d say it’s the other way around.”. You look down at the desk, trying to avoid his stare before he leans a forearm on the surface, commanding your eyes back up to his.

“Won’t you tell me more about yourself?”

( . . . )

The day had been so long.

The sun had already set, and you could feel the lackluster sleep catching up to you quickly. It had been exhausting, staying on your toes at all times as Kuroo, you learned his first name was, was having the time of his life teasing you endlessly. You had kept yourself busy to allow yourself to cool off and not let the banter get to you, but it was hard with him being in charge of you. Everyone in the office had long left by now, and when you next look up from your computer, you realize how dark the room has gotten. Finally ready to call it a day, you close your laptop and stand up, walking over to Kuroo’s office. The door was left ajar, so you just figured you’d walk in, announce your leave, and be on your merry way.

As you push the door open, you’re greeted with the sight of the man leaning back tiredly in his chair, head tilted up, a hand dangling by his side as another lazily tugs at his tie to loosen it. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, as his collar pools wide open. You suppose it had been hot today, and the night was not nearly as cool as it should’ve been. Maybe that’s why you could see a line of sweat running down his neck and disappearing under the remaining fabric of the shirt.

Well fuck.

The man in question lifts his head curiously, before smiling as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Heading out?” You didn’t trust your mouth at the moment so you just nod. “Good job today, you were impressive.” Dumbly, you just nod again. “You doing alright there? Did I already wear you out on the first day?” Why would you word it like that. “No- I’m just- Tired. I was nervous for today, so I didn’t sleep well.”

He motions you over with a wave of his hand. You move to stand in front of the desk before he continues to signal two fingers towards himself. Painfully aware of your breathing, you move around the desk to stand in front of him, from where his eyes look straight up to yours. “So I was right. You were nervous.” What were you supposed to say to that. “Do you still feel that way?”

Dontstareathiscollarbone

Dontstareathiscollarbone

“I.. No. You all made me feel very welcome.” “Diplomatic answer.” He hums. “It’s true.” “Is it?” He absentmindedly runs his hand down the side of his neck, stretching. “Because from where I’m sitting, you look flushed.”

Fuck.

“It’s just warm, summer days always feel a little stuffy.” “Yeah?” He keeps his smile sly. “Yeah..” “That or you’re just getting flustered from checking me out so many times in one minute.”

Huh.

“I..I’m sorry, what?” “You heard me.”, he smirks, “You’re not exactly subtle.”. “I…”

What the fuck do you even say to that. Do you start denying? Apologizing?

“It’s okay though. I really don’t mind.”, your eyes can’t help but dart down as he shifts his legs, manspreading.

God knows black slacks are a fucking test of your will.

“Especially not when I’m doing the same.”

Say what.

He proceeds to reach out and hook a finger into one of your belt loops, dragging you closer until your knees press against his chair. “What’re you-“ “Sit.” His smirk widens seeing your expression.

Seeing you continue to hesitate, he tugs more firmly, making you lose your balance and find purchase on the back of his chair on either side of his head, legs halfway on his lap. He lets out a low whistle, “Well this works too.”.

Both his hands find your hips, guiding you down onto him firmly.

You could feel him through the layers of clothes, and you knew you were done for. You could barely process it before he was unzipping your pants, pressing his fingers against you through your underwear.

“Someone’s excited.” He states, his eyes still on yours as he grazes over a damp spot. “Wait wait- what are- why-“ “Shhh”, his fingers press up with more pressure against the fabric, “just relax. You’ve had a long day no?”.

He rolls his knuckles over, watching with interest as your stern expression loosens to something more frayed, your composure slipping. “I had a long day too yknow.” He drawls lazily, squeezing at your hip, shifting your weight more onto his hand. “M-mhm?” “Yeah.” He grins, dragging down his palm. “Good thing for us both, I know a great way to release some anxiety.” He leans in, now opting to look down between your legs as he pulls the cotton to the side. You let out a small moan as you feel the pads of his fingers finally come into direct contact with you. His shit-eating grin a constant as he moves in small circles, barely giving you anything. You thought he was just being gentle at first, but with the wetness that was already dribbling down his index and the way his eyes tracked the movement, you were sure he was doing it on purpose.

“Kuroo..” You mumble. “Hm?” He stops. Your hips twitch against his hand, the motion giving you the perfect friction against the heart of his palm as the pressure of his fingers increases. And just as you're about to quit the complaint rising up your throat, he pulls his fingers away. "What is it, hm?" He smiles up at you, all innocent-like, yet the pure amusement in his eyes betrays that.

You stare at him, a whine quietly slipping past your lips as he readjusts his hand on your waist, the other tracing patterns on your inner thigh. "You're a good girl, can't you use your words?" He raises a brow before moving to finally pushing both fingers to the first knuckle. He keeps them there, unmoving as you tighten around the smallest bit of intrusion. After a few beats of silence, he chuckles, his eyebrows furrowing with a slight mocking expression. "Interesting. You'd think with the way you're leaking like a faucet that you wouldn't mind speaking up for what you want." You gasp as he plunges them down another knuckle. "Cmon, now." He coos, "I know you're desperate for it. Or at least," He leans in closer, "She sure is, with the way she's practically begging for more. Hah, how greedy.".

He finally lets them sink to the base knuckle, grinning ear to ear as he hears you whimper. But he doesn't move. Not even an inch. Your head lolls forward a bit as your pride slowly starts coming apart at the seams. You try to roll your hips, but his grip tightens around you, keeping you in place. And when he hears the slight protest you let out, he makes every effort to soften his voice and comfort you: “I know baby, I know,” But you can feel his smirk pressed against your neck. "Just open those pretty lips of yours and tell me what's on your mind.". You shut your eyes and inhale slowly before mustering out in the least desperate voice you could manage, "Touch me.". He curls his fingers at your words. "-ah-Please." He pushes them deeper, rubbing against your walls. As your moans pick up, the rest of the words leave your mouth as though a dam broke. Kuroo continued to stimulate you faster and rougher for every plea you emitted, praising you with whispers to your ear every time your pitch rose. "Gods, you're squeezing my fingers so tight yea?" He sighs out, "Must feel good no? Scratching that desperate itch of yours?" He says punctuating it with his thumb running across your clit, continuing the motion as he adds a third finger. "I mean, after all, you're leaking all over.". The biggest mistake you made was glancing down, not only seeing the way your juices were traveling from his wrists down the skin of his forearm like veins, but the way his fingers were nuzzled into your cunt, rutting back and forth. Just as you felt your lips parting out of breath, he hits that spongy spot deep inside, rendering your thoughts to mush as you moan louder, right into his ear. His smirk never fading as he proceeds to target that spot, over and over again, watching with undefeated pleasure as you writhle and tremble on his lap.

You felt humiliation lick up your spine as he simply laughed again as your moans turned into whines, the more and more he pressed and rubbed against it. He moved back to see your face, bringing a hand to your cheek before pulling you into a kiss, licking at your lips, tongue, and teeth with barely restrained hunger. As your thighs began to shake, he moved his hand back down to spread your legs some more, keeping you firmly in position as he continued his ministrations. "Stay open for me now," he says gently, seeing as you're rapidly approaching your high; when you nod quickly, he gives you a kiss to your temple, "attagirl.". “M- I’m close-“ You warn breathless, "F-Fuck Kuroo.." "Mhm, go ahead, no one’s stopping you.” He grins before sucking on a spot on you neck, purposefully right above your collar.

When you finally release, he helps you ride it out for a few moments and then pulls his hand away. When your vision finally focuses back on him, you're met with the sigh of his drenched hand a cocky expression resting on his face. "Didn't think you'd have this much in you.". Before your brain can play catch-up and come up with a reply, he's lifted the hand to his mouth and licked a stripe clean, making direct eye contact with you. "Mm? Just cleaning up real quick.". Sensing your confusion, he makes a point of moving his now clean hand to the opposite thigh he wasn't already holding, lifting your weight up and off his lap before sitting you on the desk. He stands up from the chair, moving it before kneeling in front of your spread legs with an amused smile.. "Oh how cute. Did you think we were done?"

You let yourself take steps back, your amusement growing as your back approached the wall. Trying to reel in your smugness, you cut him off before he can speak again.

“You know me?”.

You could almost hear a pin drop. Caleb glares back at you almost offended.

“Are you seriously-”

“You are clearly missing something.” You can’t contain your grin.

“What are you saying?” He hisses out. You can hear the hand he propped up against the wall you’re leaning on slowly ball into a fist.

“You’re so convinced that I’m feeling a way I’m not.” You say with amusement barely controlled.

“What you fail to understand is I’ve always been this way pipsqueak.”

“See?” You grin, “This is exactly what I mean.”

You take a step forward, your chest pressed up against his. The action throwing him off guard at the sudden boldness and he straightens up from where he was looming over you.

“You think you’re scaring me, you think I’m terrified, mortified at how you’re acting.”. Your smile only widens when you see the confusion mix in with his firm expression.

“But really, I always knew you were this way.”

You bring a hand to his dress-shirt’s collar, gripping it tight before yanking him down closer to your height, the accessories on the colonel uniform shifting with quiet tinkles. His eyes widen, mouth slightly open as if to say something but nothing comes out. Your free hand goes to cup his face, your thumb running over his cheek gently, while your tone holds back on zero mockery.

“You, on the other hand, despite all your obsession, have failed to grasp that I’m just as bad as you.” You smile, watching his eyes catch that same glimpse they always did when you said something that scratched his possessiveness.

“You don’t mean that.” He states, swallowing harshly, “You have no idea-” he seems almost repentant, but you know better.

“No I do.”

“Pipsqueak, you’re out of your depth,” a chuckle escapes him, his eyes lowering amused, “-you think just because you’re attached to me that you can even understand a fraction of my love for you.”

“Yeah?” You smile back at him, your hand tilting his face up for him to look at you again, maintaining eye contact, “you think so?”

He huffs out a small laugh again.

“I track your necklace Caleb.”

He pauses, his eyes visibly shifting in their stare back at you before he smiles, deceivingly soft again.

“You’re so silly Pips-”

“I’m not fucking kidding.” You laugh back at him, the hand on his collar shifting down to the dog tag necklace you had given him so long ago, slightly pulling on it.

“I wanted to know where you were. In case you ever lied to me about your schedule or the risk of your work.”

“That so?”

“What?” Your finger twirls loops around the necklace chain, the charms jingling, “Does that scare you?”

“If you know me so well Pips, you know I’ve done much worse.”

“And I’ve never stopped you.”

Caleb looks down at your hand playing with the necklace before he meets your eyes again, the look in his half lidded pupils turning a deeper purple; that same shade you loved to drag out of him. He brings a hand to his face, the back of his palm hiding an obsessive, love-sick smile, the one he usually suppressed until he thought you weren’t looking, or when he believed you to be asleep during your sleep-overs.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath.

“Gods, you really are far gone huh?” You tease, your own expression far from innocent in the way you match his almost deranged adoration.

“You don’t get to give me any lessons Pipsqueak, now that all your behaviors suddenly seem more tactful than coincidental.”

Suddenly despite all your confidence in your equally matched energy, you feel your nervousness rise up again; your stomach knotting and the back of your spine burning hot.

He lowers himself down to your level even more, until your lips are at the same height, his forehead an inch away from touching yours, as he now wears your smug expression.

“All those times..sitting in my lap, constantly calling for me in conversations, taking any chance at touching me..” His smirk only widens, “Kissing me for “practice” as you called it..” his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Nothing more than desperation after all huh?”

You immediately feel the need to defend yourself at his words. “You cannot be talking.”

“Why not? I’m not afraid to admit I yearn for you.” He drawls on as words get caught in your throat.

“Especially, now that I know,” he muses, “that this little lady right in front of me, is into this obsessive side of mine hm?”

“Almost like it..fuels something in her…Gets her going does it?”

You feel your cheeks start to flush at his bluntness, off-put by his calling out.

“You’d preach being the same as me yeah? But based on your reaction, I’d still think you’re out of your league Pipsqueak..”

An uneven breath escapes you and his eyes crinkle at that.

“Would you look at that?” His smirk aggravatingly turning more sharp.

“Pipsqueak isn’t able to respond, looks like she really is obsessed with me.”

"What happened this time?" you give him an unimpressed look, medkit in your lap, as you rummage through the half-used plastic case for the usual items. It won't be long until you have to restock on some body bandages, you note. "Nothing. Just got a little roughed up by one of the wild saurians," he sighs casually, as if his arm wasn't in the process of ruining your good bedsheets. "Right," you respond, "And how did that happen?" looking over at him, you see his gaze subsoncisously avoid yours, glancing around the walls of your room. "I got distracted," he states before trying to defend himself matter-of-factly, "I didn't plan well for the number of enemies that ended up cornering me.". You decide not to press any further and just continue rubbing disinfectant on the open wounds, applying a salve to a few burns here and there, and finally wrapping some bandages around his muscles. He pulls away once you're done, his gaze meeting yours for the first time since he came over. He eventually speaks up: "You don't have to lecture me," oh he was not starting that with you right now. "I can take care of myself." that same argument that kept looping everytime you found yourself worried sick about his work. "I've been to the Night Kingdom several times.." uh huh.. "...Something as small as this wouldn't be fatal for me..." or so he says... "..You should be able to trust me. It's not.." Words were going in one ear and out the other. Can he just... "..Seriously, there's no reasonable-" Shut up. Before he can utter out another word, you grab the roll of body bandage once more and pull on the edges, forming a long strand of the gauze, stretching it and placing it on his open mouth. "I was-hmph-?!" His words suddenly muffled. You quickly tie a knot around the back of his head and push him down onto the mattress from his previous sitting position. He goes down without a fight but leverages himself by leaning on his elbows, staring up at you with an unreadable expression, the bandage sitting on his lips without protest. "Enough. I'm sick of having the same conversation every damn time.". You scoff as you notice his eyes rolling at your statement. "Ok then Kinich," you smile to yourself, his own following the twitch of your lips, one of his eyebrows raising in response. Your hand moves out and reaches for the upper hem of his shirt, pulling down the small zipper, no longer obstructed by the usual garment's straps. His chin tips down to follow the movement as your fingers dip through the opening, caressing his collarbone. He audibly swallows, his throat bobbing as you trail further down, dragging the neckline with your movements. Soon, your other hand dips below the lower hem of his shirt, tracing his lower abdomen, drawing abstract shapes on his toned stomach, watching his reactions. That expression of casual arrogance he always wore slowly cracking, giving way to a slight furrow of his brows, his eyelids half shielding his eyes as they dilated to the ministrations on his own torso and flickered back up to you. oh, how good he looks right now. The messy hair, sticking out from a dischieveling battle, the small remnants of dirt and grime on his wounded arms, and the still prominent sweat on his temple from having hurried back here. You feel yourself pause, admiring him from below you, your grin widening almost mockingly. As you reach out further down near the start of his belt, you feel his hips shift, arching himself towards your touch, his eyes maintaining contact with yours all throughout. That same conflicted look on his face before his eyebrows dug a little higher into his forehead, looking absolutely delectable, something akin to desperate. ...maybe this argument wasn't so bad this time.

The palm of your hand teased lower, rocking in a small, controlled motion back and forth. His hips stitched, his head turning to the side. Longer strands of hair fell onto his face, revealing the dark crimson shading his ear. How cute. For someone who prides himself on being so confident, he sure doesn't seem like it now. As a puff of air escapes the bandage with a small moan accompanying it—You're starting to wonder if this was his plan from the beginning.

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He'd keep eye contact with you, and if you blinked for a second too long, he'd be on you in an instant. "What? Is it too much?" he'd sit up, his chest against yours, quickly rising and falling, "Keep your eyes on me, cmon". If you started to get fidgety and visibly close, he'd grab your hips and help your movements meet his, "Mmm feel that?" you'd squeeze around him and he'd choke out a, "Oh I know you do..". He's the type to smile, smirk, grin, so proudly, so smugly as he sees bliss wash over you, and keep his grip firm on your hips or thighs, making sure you stay right there, so you could feel him twitch inside you when he hears you moan as you release. Want you to be fully made aware of how you make him feel.

If he found out you were into praise, oh, how he'd never let you hear the end of it. You're already struggling to breathe, and he'd just smugly let it slip past his lips; "Yeah? You're doing so fucking well.". He'd layer it on thick, making you constantly stumble over your own breaths and always finding a new way to let his words really get to you, really get you there. "Is this what you needed pretty girl?" he hums hovering above you, his small grunts near your ear as he gets closer, "Because fuck this is what I've been thinking of all day," he relishes in the small trembls traveling your spine, "daydreaming of how good you'd feel, how you'd look so good for me, and be so good for me".

He'd know. You're ovulating? He knows. You're just in the mood? He knows. Stressed? Yup. Pent-up? Uh huh. Needy? He's already smiling at you knowingly. "Don't be shy," he'd look at you intently, "I'm not going to judge you, especially not for wanting this.". I don't think he's the type to make you admit your desires outright or make you beg for it, I think if anything, he enjoys the act of being proven right enough. He'll go along with your actions if you're too shy to voice your needs, and instead will just make little adjustments to fit what you fantasized about this time. "There." He'd manhandle you into a different pose, shift himself behind you, voice near your neck, like you'd secretly wanted him to, "This better?".

“Oh." was all you managed to get out.

"Take this on my behalf will you?" she asks with an amused look before handing you a delicate plate with a decorated portion of Almond Tofu.

“Xiangling sent in a letter earlier when you departed from the harbor. I had Yanxiao make it before clocking out.".

“Thank you." you responded almost dumbfounded before taking the plate from her hands.

She nodded before turning back around to scribble away in her log book, leaving you to stare down at the dish before ultimately turning to make your way up the final flight of stairs. As you made it to the top of the stairs, building up your courage to call his name you stopped just short of the archway. To your surprise, the man was already there. Sitting balanced on the railing of the terrace, with one leg bent into his chest, the other dangling down towards the void. The Adeptus' back was to you, allowing you to gaze over the back of his hair, your brain almost warning you it's just another hopeful illusion. As your silence goes on, he turns his head in your direction, glowing yellow peering into you like daggers. Everything stilled for a little while, the two of you just staring at one another without making a move. Gods you had missed him.

“Hi Xiao." you offered, breaking the silence. He continues to look at you, then suddenly shifts, disappearing into thin air before reappearing a couple of steps away from you, standing stiffly. Swallowing your doubt, you walk closer holding the Tofu out to him.

“Yanxiao made this for you-" you suddenly stop at his expression, as he stares at you with a perplexed look, confusion mixed with upset and then switching to weariness.

“Xiao, what's wrong?" you ask concerned, eyes checking over his figure before feeling gloved fingers slide on top of yours holding up the plate.

Looking up at him, his eyes seemed to roam across your face frantically, and then finally settle on your eyes, gazing into them intensely. His other hand comes to your shoulder, gently holding you, before tightening his grip firmly once he knew for a fact you were actually standing before him. He seemed to be physically relieved at your presence. You were actually here. In front of him. Without another second wasted he pulled you into him, plate long forgotten on the floor. The embrace was rigid, but he pulled you in so tightly as if he were scared to even consider letting go.

A few beats pass by before he shifts his arms, his hands that were clutching at your back now trailing down near your waist. He continues to hold you there, pressed up against him, his head hovering above your shoulder, dark strands tickling your ear.

“Where have you been.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, an accusation almost.

Hesitating with your response you swallowed a bit nervous. “I was traveling to the other nations- I’ve been to Fontaine and Nat-”.

“You took so long.” He breathed out, almost a whisper.

“You worried me.” He started. “I started thinking you might’ve been stubborn again and refused to call upon me.” His voice turned stern again, despite the softness of his low volume.

“Xiao..”.

“Traveler..May I be selfish?”, He pulls back enough to look at you, his forehead grazing your own.

Nodding slowly at him, your eyes lock onto his, seeing the underlying passion and yearning and admiration that he hid deep within himself.

Before you could say anything else he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft at first but as you kissed him back, reciprocating his movements with practiced ease, he started leaning back, shrinking into himself more. This was experience he continued to lack even with the many times you’d shared kisses. Kissing and any physical intimacy was a foreign concept to him, so he couldn’t help the small noises that escape him as you didn’t let up on his lips.

It was almost embarrassing how worked up he started getting, the harsh persona faltering the more you pressed forward and the longer the kiss continued. He felt breathless. For all his training he suddenly couldn’t calm his racing heart and his shortness of air.

You let up for a few seconds, letting him fill his lungs before diving back in immediately after his first gasp.

“Aah-mm” The hum leaves him involuntarily. Xiao had never wanted to be the vocal type, but novelty to these sensations made it hard for him to surprise himself.

Could you just- Archons above. Give him a second- Suddenly, despite his rare initiation, he feels out of his depth.

Adepti are trained to have endless patience and composure. So dear Seven, what the FUCK. He was feeling things he shouldn’t, thoughts crossing his mind he would berate himself later for. But as you kept moving forward, hands mimicking his own, wrapping onto his own waist, all trace of thought was gone from his mind.

You felt yourself turn light as a feather for a moment before realizing you had changed settings. He had teleported you inside. Now in a beautifully decorated chamber, the furniture adorned with untouched, long-settled dust. This must be the room Verr keeps for him.

As your turned your focus back to Xiao the boy looked beyond unrecognizable. The usual scowl on his face replaced with an unreadable expression. His pale skin blushed over with red. The tips of his hair standing up a little wilder than normal. But most of all, his eyes. Oh his eyes.. They held you with their stare, glossed by the warm, dim light of a bedside lantern.

Xiao’s brain seemed to spontaneously re-wire itself as he shifted his footing. Walking over to him, you started kissing him again, firmly and with so much emotion from you missing him, leaving behind the slow gentle pecks from earlier.

He fell into your rhythm, not once fighting to control the kiss. Walking him backwards until the back of his knees hit the mattress, making him fall down with you straddling him. Almost grinning against his lips you opened your eyes to look at him. His unfocused, widened gaze and his half open mouth, lips turned more vibrant with friction.

As you settled above him your hand moving up to his waist before your hand grazes over the front of his pants, a hitch of his breath escaping in response. Surprised at the sound, your eyes trail down to his trousers only to be met with a more prominent bulge.

Oh. Oh.. oh.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, his forearm moving atop his face shielding his eyes.

“You missed me that much?”

“It’s an uncontrollable aspect of the male human body. Something you should well be aware of. Your own kind’s shortcomings.” He replies with a hoarse voice, trying to keep his tone steady and even.

“Oh I wouldn’t say shortcomings..” You reply smugly before shifting your palm down onto him.

“A-ah-” He cuts himself off with a hiss of a breath.

As your hand continues grinding onto him his breaths pick up again, chest stuttering with his small gasps. Brows visibly furrowing, as the arm shielding his face twitches in place with small trembles.

“You- m-mm-” He attempts.

“I what?” You tease back.

And he’s really trying. Rex Lapis knows he’s trying to hold it in. Not seem so..so.. needy. And he doesn’t want to beg. That’s pathetic and unbecoming of an illuminated beast, an immortal, weapon of war..

“You look so pretty Xiao”, You whisper, caressing his soft hair, fingers trailing down his jawline, “I missed you so.”

Curse Celestial-

“Please.”

You don’t even get to respond to his sudden plea before others pour in.

“Please. I-I desire your- hahatouch. Ah. You. Please.” His arm strongly planted over his eyes.

Smiling down at his shaky form, you dip your hands past his waistband and loosen the sash holding his pants. The fabric dips down his slim hips, his usually cold skin, burning to the touch.

Finally wrapping a hand around him he gasps louder, this time a high pitched moan fully tumbling out of his lips.

“Ha- Aa-ah fuck -mmmmh”

You give him a tentative slow stroke up before reaching the tip, thumbing at it while watching his reaction. His first bawling against his own palm, the less human features of his hands peaking out from their usual concealment. Nails sharpening and veins becoming more visible, running down his arm.

“Yes-ah just like that— AAah-” His fingers twitch as you repeat the motion, dragging your thumb slowly against the slit.

As you speed up your motions his back begins arching slightly, lifting off the mattress as his pitch heightens with breathlessness and an almost whiny undertone. Your hand tightening around him and squeezing him just how he needed and god it feels good.

And he’s basically never done this before, and so he’s already getting embarrassingly close. His heart feels like it’s in his throat with the way he feels unable to utter out anything more than pleasurable moans. Your hand picks up the pace, and he bites his lip, sharp canines almost piercing his already kissed raw, red lips. His arm barely staying still from the stimulation, shudders running their course throughout his body. Finally falling to the side, his arm yanks at the bedding, his eyes scrunched up in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together. His entire face is blushed heavily, not to mention the almost visible pants of hot air escaping his mouth with little to no restraint from him.

“I’m- I..”

“Hm? Does it feel nice Xiao?” You boldly inquired.

“Is this what you desired? What you fantasized while waiting for me? Imagining me so desperately?”

He was so sensitive and he has been wanting you all this time- having to wait so long and he was pent up and you knew that- and-

“Fuck- ah-Aa-hah..Please I’m almost.. Ah-” His voice breaks on his last plea, feeling too out of it to care.

Without much else he comes undone into your hand, letting out a small mewl that resembles a whimper.

You move to hover over him closer to his face and he opens his eyes to look up at you dazed but with determination in his eyes.

“Ah-a-Again….” He huffs.

Despite your surprise, all you could register was where you were sitting. His thigh, muscular even covered with his black dirtbike jeans, pressed directly between your now spread legs.

Fuck.

Looking up at him, his eyes were staring at you intently, a raised eyebrow as if his very own lips weren't quirked up into a smirk. As if he wasn't the one who had ruined your plans.

A couple nights back, during a drinking game with the Kieran and Luke, you had bet the twins you could top Sylus. Now was that your best moment? No. But you were drunk- and hey you could totally top him if you wanted.

Sylus being Sylus, cockily let you have a chance. But you'd prove him wrong.

Right?

"What's wrong?" Amusement clear in his voice.

"You said you'd let me take the lead tonight.” Your response as bitter as you can muster with the tension that seems to grow with every breath.

"And I am." He chuckles before bringing two fingers between your brows, massaging the frown away, then dropping to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your face in an almost mocking way.

"Go ahead."

Maybe you should've known better. Because just as you leaned forward, aiming to take charge, his thigh lifted. Instantly your lips closed and your core tightened, eyes fluttering up to his.

A pause.

"Sweetie? Did you not hear me?" He says softly, the tone betraying his expression, as his gaze takes you in.

"I said go ahead," Another move.

"Do as you want," Harsher against your core.

"You're the boss tonight." He says with delight.

And god why is it so hard to gather your thoughts. Curse him and his ridiculous thighs-

Another bit of friction and you feel yourself lowering you body weight on him.

"Oh?" The bastard has the audacity to act like he doesn't know what he's doing. His leg continuously rubs against you, the rhythm unsteady on purpose, keeping you on your toes.

"Are you alright Princess?" He teases. And you can feel the flexing muscle hit just right, making you clamp your legs around his singular one.

Shit, why does it feel so good?

"I'm fine." You mumble.

"Yeah?" His leg jerks up, and your breath hitches audibly. "Are you?" Another movement and you feel your sanity start snapping, your resolve crumbling and humiliation be dammed-

Double Fuck.

You tentatively move your hips. The friction of his pants material only further aiding your relief. Before long you're rutting against his leg shamelessly as he watches with an amused smile. Eyes half lidded as the flicker back and forth between where you sit on him and your face contorting every time he flexes just right.

And fucking hell you're close. And he's just enjoying himself doing nothing but grinning-

Sending the grind of your hips stutter more and more Sylus sighed out a breath that resembles a small laugh.

"But wait a second." Two large hands circle around your hips gently, before firmly pushing you down onto his leg. The pressure pushing a small yelp past your lips.

"Didn't you want to lead tonight Sweetheart?" As you try to regain rhythm your hips trembles and shake from his grip, not allowing your movement past staying put on his thigh, pressing you down onto the muscle.

And you were so fucking close- can he just-

"Just- Sylus-" You pant out, hands gripping at his slightly unbuttoned shirt, the dark fabric crumpled in your fingers. And suddenly a rush of humiliation runs down your body and goes straight to your core, realizing how disheveled you were while you were both still fully dressed. He was beyond unaffected though.

"Can I just what?" He hums calmly.

"Oh I'm sorry." He feigns pity with a shit eating smirk.

"Were you close?"