yessirr7

For those few years, it has been you who has become the strict ruler of your father’s kingdom; a woman who stands above the rest, represents herself. . not a pathetic royal man speaking for her. You have proven yourself well enough, more independent than your dear, poor mother. . more powerful than your blind, ignorant father. You swore to yourself that you would never let a royal man enter your castle with the intent of wedding you and if you had allowed such boldness, he shall never speak above your voice— less he wished for his head to be separated from his body. 

Despite that silent promise you had made to yourself all those years ago, the chatter from those pitiful royal women and men has you completely reconsidering your approach to marriage. Why, you would do absolutely anything to finally silence those annoying pests. . and that is exactly what you plan on doing.

RAFAYEL

Master Rafayel; his family has served under your bloodline for ages, years after years they were recognized as more than excellent painters and were favored for their skills. Your bloodline has entrusted them as personal painters, each one of them were able to perfectly capture the pure beauty of your family— your purple haired painter was no exception to this. Although, compared to his family that kept a professional composure, he was quite comfortable and unapologetically bold when near your presence.

He was quite the gentleman compared to the other possible suitors on your list; happily dragging you away from stuffy conference rooms, sneakily adding a sweet dessert on your lacking meal plate, and even making you feel relaxing during one of his painting sessions. . with you as his personal and favorite muse. And even during the aftermath of the assasination of your parents, he became a shoulder for your tears and sorrows— truly it is no suprise that there are quite some chatter about you and Rafayel’s more intimate relationship, and even less that your considering him to be a name in your list. Although, the royal men and lady may sputter rumors about how unbecoming it is for you, the queen of the kingdom, to take a mere, poor painter as her consort.

Not that you could care about their mindless gossip, after all, it is you who is the queen. . not them. 

“Hmm. .” You hum to yourself, heels clanking softly against the cool marble floor, puffy dress dragging agaisnt the surface with every step you take— eyes darting to glance at each portrait of you hanging on the wall.

You were taking a relaxing and alone walk, it was well deserved after spending hours after hours discussing critical problems in the kingdom. Alongside your steps, there is another. . steps that are much quieter and softer than yours as shoes click agaisnt the marbled floor.

“M’lady. . your presence is utmost important in the discussion room. The utter chaos can only be cooled by your order, it’s recommended you come back sooner rather than later” a voice says in a polite and respectful voice, tone lacking any sort of emotion— it has you scoffing in frustration as you reluctantly turn to face the person.

Catching your sharp gaze as you glance over is Master Rafayel rather than your personal chamberlin, you exhale in relief of being able to avoid that god forsaken room. 

“Mmh. . you’ve been spacing out more than often naught, your majesty” Rafayel muses out in a velvety and gentle voice, fingers tenderly catching a stray strand of your hair to slowly tuck it behind your ear in a smooth motion. 

He smiles teasingly when you briefly look at those gorgeous eyes of his, calloused hands readjusting your crooked necklace as if it was something natural that happens between you two. And it was, Rafayel has done this so many times it was uncountable.

“I’ve just been spending more time thinking. . that’s all” you lie through your teeth, tone dismissive of all his worries.

Instead of Rafayel acting wounded, offended, and overdramatic after hearing your harsh tones. . he just chuckles while wrapping his arms around your mid section, resting his chin onto your shoulder. You click your tongue, melting into his sweet touch. Oh how it would be troublesome if someone was to stumble across the queen and her trusted painter embracing each each other so. . intimate and far too close to be professional. 

It’s perfect. 

“Ooh please, my sweet beloved. That expression on that beautiful face of yours I far from ‘just thinking’” he teases in a light tone, mocking your voice perfectly for extra emphasis to his point.

He leans close, closer than you anticipated, fingers gently peeling the fabric from your neck. Hot breath ghosts agaisnt your flesh, warm and glossed lips press agaisnt the faded away bite mark on your neck— eliciting a breathless gasp from you, a shiver coursing through your body. It isn’t the first time you’ve embraced Rafayel in a intimate manner, forbidden romance was a concept you never truly cared about, you doubt it would be the last time you and him sneaked off to satiate each other’s desire.

“Bold as ever, aren’t we? Who gave you permission to kiss upon my flesh?” You laugh out, sighing when he presses more light kisses to the skin of your neck, collarbone, and shoulder with such passion. 

“Ahh. . apologies, m’ladly. I can’t help but become eager and bold around you. .” Rafayel murmurs again your neck, arms wrapping tighter around your stomach, lips suckling at your skin until bruises blooms on your flesh.

“Is that so. . ? Well, you are not permitted to touch my until I’ve have given you my permission” you breath out between shivers and jolts of your body, biting at your lips to muffle that moan that tries to escape when he licks a broad strip along your neck. 

“Of course, you majesty. .” His lips curl against your skin in a cheeky smile, completely unbothered or unfazed by the assertion in your tone.

“Good. Now, quickly. . follow me to my chambers” you mumble out, swatting him away when he continues to press kisses against your shoulder.

Rafayel interlaces your hands together sweetly, happily letting you guide him further down the hall to your chambers— the quiet sounds of shoes hitting the floor slowly dies down as the door of your bedroom locks behind you.

Oooh, it would be quite terrible if someone happened to stumble by the queen’s chamber. They would be able to hear the breathless moans and gasp shares between you and Rafayel, the rumors would become quite bothersome if so. 

“Haaah. .” Rafayel pants out against your kiss-swollen lips, battered breath fanning on your flesh, that tongue of his gently tracing along your glossy lips. 

“Mmhp. . nngh, R- Raf’” you moan our against his lips, arms wrapping around your shoulder to tug him closer and closer to your body until your chest was flushed against his.

“Mmhp. . you beauty is to be admired, my beloved” he mumbles out softly, agile fingers unclasping your necklace and pulling the jewerly from around your neck, placing it on the bedside to be forgotten.

“You say this every time, my dear. .” You whispers out breathlessly, nibbling on his bottom lip to elicit a delighted groan from the painter. 

“And yet, I still speak the truth” Rafayel teases, fingers tickling agaisnt your ribs

In a quick motion, Rafayel grips at your plush hips tightly— lips trailing down from your lips to your neck, suckling noisily at the flesh until you let out a moan of approval. Your fingers cards through the purple strands of his hair, taking one step at a time as you guide him to your bed. You gently push him to lay onto your bed, climbing into his lap, straddling him while your hands rest on his chest. 

“O-oh my gods. . your highness, you look absolutely radiant from down here. .” He pants out, hands tightening their grip on your hips.

His fingers, flexible, skilled, and fast quickly pull each bothersome piece of clothing off your body— layer after layer until you lay with only garments on. And you do the same for Rafayel until his bare chest is rising and falling agaisnt the palm of your hand and a noticeable bulge agaisnt the swell of your ass.

“Eager. . mmh?” You moan softly, letting him slowly slidee his hand from your waist to your back, gently pushing until his face was buried between your clothed chest.

With a quick flick of his index fingers, Rafayel tugs away your chest restraints and tossing them aside to the floor to be forgotten. One of the hands on your back drifts to your exposed chest to press the mounds together— lips suckling at both of your nipples hungrily, tongue smearing and slowly dragging agaisnt the sensitive bud in a worshipping fashion. You shiver in delight, dragging your fingers through his hair again to earn muffled moans from the painter.

“Oh heavens. .” You gasp out, unconsciously rolling your hips to grind your clothed pussy agaisnt his crotch. 

The wet slurping sound of his mouth, shamelessly lapping at your puffy nipples fills the room now— along with your breathless meals each time your clit bumps against his clothed cock. You can feel the wet spot of Rafayel’s precum, cock leaking and bobbing against the sensitive folds of your pussy. 

“Nnghh. . mmh! Haah. . en- enough, let me have you, my love” you sigh out, rolling your hips one last time to feel him groaning into your chest, the vibration coursing through your body. 

You lift your hips up, one of your hands reaching down to tug down his garments until it reached to his knee— peeling your soaked panties to the side. Your cunt is still overly sensitive, puffy and swollen from the overload of attention he gave you not too long. While in your chamber waiting for the rest of the royal men and women to fill the conference room, Rafayel’s slender fingers found themself dipping and thrusting deep into your creamy pussy— leaving you feeling warm and needy during the meeting.

You’ve had quite enough of Rafayel’s teasing, pent up and annoyed. He’s still fondling, sucking, and pinching at your breasts, moaning when you slap his pretty cock agaisnt your slick folds with a wet plapp. In an agonizingly slow pace, you drag his long cock through your syrupy folds— pressing the bulbous tip of his cock agaisnt your slick cunt, rolling your hips to feel the pressure on the hood of the sensible bud even better.

Through hooded eyes, you attempt to peak between your thighs. . only being graced a small peak; his cock rutting through your fat pussy lips, over and over in a dizzying manner. Even though the lack of penetration is slightly frustrating, this was just far more arousing and passionate; Rafayel moaning and groaning into your chests as you use his body to make you both feel wonderful. 

“Nngh—. . he- heavens, this feels too good —mmhp” you moan out, letting him grip your hips for support.

The heavy dragg of Rafayel’s cock; through your sopping folds, against puffy and twitching clit, and against your drooling hole. You’re lathering his pretty cock in that creamy, syrupy slick, your arousal mixing up with the beads of precum he leaks. He’s dizzy, eyes rolled back as he nuzzles deeper into your chest— desperate to keep his mouth busy as he lewdly alpacas your nipples, even teasing you by tracing his teeth agaisnt the bud.

“Mmhp. . nghh” Rafayel moans out, breath fanning on your chest, nibbling on your flesh like it’s a toy.

There’s a familiar tingle in your lower abdomen, brewing up fast and quick. Perhaps it’s the perfect weight of your chest pressed onto his face, air doesn’t come easily, or was it the way you grip his dick while dragging him through your cunt it a addictive motion— he doesn’t know but it has him shivering under you, cock throbbing in your hand as he shoots his cum into your sopping folds while letting out a shaky groan.

“M’ladly. . nghh” he whines, bucking his hips up to have his tip slipping into your cunt— stretching you perfect.

You gasp out, whining out his name in a sweet voice, creaming around his cock while one of your hands dart to tug at his hair. 

“Mmhp. . oh heavenss, I’m n- not quite finished with you yet” you pant out breathlessly, letting those long inches of his cock slip into your pussy with a wet squeallch.

. . . .

Your chambers are mostly shrouded in darkness, only the small candle lit by your bedroom brings light. In your hands rests a grey bird feather, the tip coated in black ink. The soft snoring coming from beside you is what tears you attention from important matters; Rafayel’s gorgeous face is smushed against your pillow, one of his hands holding yours gently but firmly saying “please don’t let go, stay with me. . just for a little longer”.

Your hands move faster than you expected; with the feather in hand, you quickly cross away five names of noble men. You blow out the candle, snuggling back into Rafayel’s side, just this time you will indulge in your own desires. In the paper, the name, Rafayel, is circled in thick black. . a simple reminder to consider the painter as your future husband. 

ZAYNE

Doctor Zayne; he was truly the best doctor in your whole kingdom, spending years after years meticulously studying and thoroughly examining the human bodie’s structure, functions, immune system, along with identifying each job of tissues and organs. He was well recognized and respected for his great skills, often taught by the higher class for his talen fo miraculously heal even the incurable. It was your parents who were the ones who entrusted the dark colored hair boy the importance role as your personal doctor, your father personally ensured you had a weekly checkup by the doctor— frightened that his only daughter might suffer from an undiagnosed disease and would forced to hire an unskilled doctor to pathetically attempt to cure her.

While, yes, your father could be alright overdramatic when it came to your health, it gave you the perfect opportunity to speak to the quiet doctor. You quickly recognized that Zayne kept up a professional appearance when in the same room as your parents and the attendees your father hired, but when it was just the two of your the atmosphere switched from rehearsed to something much more than comfortable. He was the complete opposite of how you initially imagined; he was tender and sweet, gentle at your worst moments, and suprisingly teasing at certain moments. 

The only word that would describe Zayne the best would be gentleman, compared to the other possible consorts on your list. . the doctor was far too intimate around you— easily excusing you from the stressful conference room, carful to not overwhelm you during one of his checkups, accompanying you on your walk through the castel’s garden, changing your meals to become more nutritious and flavorful, and even pulling you from your work room when you refuse to get sleep. And even the day after finding out your parents were assasinated, he became sturdy and dependable for you— while he could be strict, he was constantly encouraging you not to neglect your mental and physical health due to depression lingering ominously over your head like a guillotine. It truly was no surprise that there were some curious, nosy, and envious eyes watching your, downright, romantic interactions with the infamous doctor, and even more less that he had become on of the options to be your consort.

And while, yes, it was quite. . unprofitable for the queen to take her personal doctor as her dearest— it would become the biggest talk of the kingdom, surely those royal men and lady would finally utter a true rumor about you. Although you knew it was unbecoming of you to even consider Zayne as an option, the thought of marrying a snobby, egotistical, and bratty rich man just for the sake of your reputation. . why, you’d rather drink an oversized cup of poison.

“Mmh. .” You softly hum to yourself a tune that has been stuck in your head for what felt like ages, resting agaisnt the railing of the balcony— peering down at the different flowers and roses planted in your outside garden that seemed to strech of forever, drinking up the sight of the array of soft colors.

There is a sweet and gentle breeze that blows along through the fields, certain strands of your hair flows with the tender breeze. It’s been a few hours since you arrived at the balcony, though it felt only a few minutes of you standing and admiring in silence— the quietness was taken as a reward for surviving yet another long conference in your throne room about worries for impending problems with the kingdom’s lack of resources. In a slow motion, you slowly reach your fingers to gently drag under the ribbon around your neck to feel the abused, fender flesh of your neck, collarbone, and shoulder— you can almost still feel the feather-like lips gliding and pressing against your flushed skin, sharp teeth of Zayne teasing your poor skin until he finally decided to suckle on your skin until there was a pretty mark left behind.  

As if your intimate relationship with Zayne wasn’t alreadly the most popular gossip throughout your kingdom; if they knew that you and doctor had embraced each other, locked in your chambers under the moonlight, more than a few times to finally satiate that burning sexual tension between you both. . why, you doubt you’d ever hear the end of it. Whilst you were in deep thought while gazing at the garden, you failed to hear the quiet steps. . shoes tapping against the marble floor softly until the sound goes silent, stopped directly behind you.

“M’ladly. . have you been here all this time? It has become quite late now, I must advise you to try to get as much sleep to prepare for yet another conference tomorrow morning” a soothing and gentle voice sighs out, mixed with exhaustion and perhaps something else— the familiar voice and tone has you quickly spinning on your heel to face the person, Zayne. 

At the sight of the man, your body relaxes and melts against the railing unconsciously— your gaze turns back to stare at the lovly sight of the royal garden below again. Zayne joins you in resting agaisnt the railing, standing beside you. . much closer than you anticipated, though it wasn’t like you were going to push him away. Especially when he’s tender, roughed-up hands dragging through your hair in a gentle rhythm to scratch at your scalp; his other hand moves to capture the stray hair by your face to pull it closer to him, leaning in to kiss it sweetly while maintaining eye contact. . pushing the strand back behind your ear.

Your cheeks flushed in a pretty shade in the cool air, lips parted as you opt to silently stare at Zayne who’s treating you so tenderly unlike your other consort options. Catching your gaze, he sends you a tired but, netherless, pretty smile— his fingers drag against the soft skin of your cheek before retracting away. This feeling that bubbles intensely in your stomach, this felt far too natural, intimate, and regular. . and that’s because it was, you couldn’t possibly remeber the amount of times he’s gently touched you as if you were made of glass.

“Dearest? Are you feeling well. . shall I escort you to your chamber?” Zayne offers in a tone full of concern, those beautiful eyes of his peering down at you with such adoration. 

“Mmh?” You hum out in a sleepy tone in response, he can practically see exhaustion bleeding from your relaxed form. 

It takes you a few, silent moments to finally utter something else than a quiet hum in acknowledgment.

“Ahh. . yes. It has become quite late. . hmm” you hum, taking a quick glance to the moon high in the sky while casting a pretty glow on you both. 

“I shall be fine here to linger, you must rest too” you remind gently, side eyeing the man when he moves closer until your shoulders brush. 

You tear your gaze from him to look towards the fields of flowers, humming when he gently carries your shoulder to encourage you to look back into his eyes. . in which you do. Oh my, while you doubt any of your servants would be awake at such late hours since they have quite the strict schedule; the thought of someone catching the queen and her dead doctor lingering far too close to each other, and in such a non-professional manner too, has you smiling softly. It truly was a smart choice to have his name on your list, perhaps you’ll find a consort much sooner than expected. You smile mischievously, you really can’t help the feeling to tease poor Zayne, eager to gain a reaction from the reserved doctor.

“I must ask, my love, does sleep deprivation make you become more bolder?” You tease, darting your eyes to the closeness until he understood what you were referring to. 

Instead of just brushing away your teasing remark like you originally expected from him, Zayne smiles softly and chuckles at your poor attempt to elicit a reaction from him— calloused hands tenderly pull you by your shoulders, embracing you in a sweet, close hug. Well, close was an understatement. . you could feel his heart pounding agaisnt your chest, his heartbeat is slow and rhythmic. 

“No, I’ve always been like this around you, my beloved” he teases back, fingers carding through your hair.

“However. . my queen” Zayne interrupts the comfortable silence between you both, guiding you by your chin to stare into your eyes.

“The nobles will notice the lack of energy in your behavior, you must sleep” he urges, earning a scoff from you.

“If you must know, I feel no tiredness. In fact, I doubt they’d worry so much about me, they are far too busy pestering me about finding a consort!” You grumble out in frustration at the mere thought of being annoyed by those nobles, humming softly when he drags his hand down the expanse of your back in a soothing motion.  

He leans in smoothly, with precise hands, he quickly unties the ribbon around your neck to let it slide down to your shoulders. Zayne’s warm breath pools agaisnt the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips ghosting your warm skin. . your breath hitches lightly. A shiver coursing through your body when warm lips softly press agaisnt the almost completely faded away bite mark on your neck— his lips dragging agaisnt your skin until he was just practically kissing and worshipping each inch of your neck.

“It’s almost gone. . hmm” he murmurs out, hooded eyes peering non-discreetly at your lips, there’s a hint of hidden desire buried in his eyes.

In order for Zayne to distract himself, he buries his face back into the warmth of your neck, dark strands of hair scattered along your skin. . lightly tickling you. You giggle softly, quickly catching onto what was bothering him— humming in delight when his presses kiss after kiss to your skin, dragging his tongue along your neck to your exposed shoulder, earning himself a gasp. 

“Mmh? Is there something in your mind, my dear doctor” you tease between shivers and twitches of, moaning in ecstasy when he drags his tongue along your shoulder before suckling on the skin shamelessly.

“Ahh. . your highness” Zayne moans into your neck, greedy hands dragging along your back and hips, squeezing your flesh tenderly. 

“— I fear I have become too comfortable in your presence. .” He groans into your skin, unable to tear himself away from the delightful taste of your skin.

“My oh my. . are you blaming me for your eagerness and lack of restraint? Perhaps all the rumors in kingdom about how stoic my doctor can be. . is wrong” you giggle, dragging your finger through his hair. 

“Please. . do not tease me, beloved” Zayne groans against yours skin, sighing in relief when you gentle take his hands in yours as you walk off the balcony— shutting the glass door behind you. 

With interlaced hands, you drag him by the hand through the long hallways of your palace— only the ring candles on the wall and the moonlight peeking through the curtains provided a spruce of light in the dark halls. The soft and gentle sounds of your heel smacking against the halls echos throughout, until it suddenly goes quiet as the lock of your chambers let out a soft click.

“Oh heavens. .” A soft gasp is muffled slightly by the thick door of your bedroom. 

It’s quite late now, the night seemingly less dark as it was when you were standing on the balcony. You doubt anyone would be awake at this time, and perhaps it was a good thing that no one would be awake. If anyone was awake and walking around at such late hours they’d be able to hear the loud but muffled moans, whimpers of Zayne, and the barely hearable groans coming from inside your chambers.

Skilled hands tug and pry away the thin fabric of your clothes, discarding the silky fabric to the floor, forgotten until the morning. Your pressed against the bed, thighs parted to accommodate Zayne between them, his hands sprawled against the soft skin of the inside of your thighs to keep you open. You neck and shoulder is marked by his mouth, a slight shine on each hickey on your skin.

Your chest, mounds toyed, sucked, and lapped at until it was overly sensitive. There’s a loud gasp tugged from your lips, thighs twitching when he shamelessly slurps and moans into your cunt, practically worshipping you with his tongue that drags through your syrupy folds. Zayne’s glasses are fogged from the heat between you both, your juices coating the lower half of his face messily— and yet he can’t pull away form the addictive flavor of you. 

“Nngh! Z- zayne!” You cry out loudly, nibbling at your bottom lip as you tug at the darkend strands of his hair.

Zayne’s tongue drags back and forth and an agonizingly slow pace, focused off parting your folds apart to lap at your swollen clit. The wet slurping sound of his mouth, shamelessly lapping at your pussy until your back is arching off the bed. 

“Nghh! Haah. . enough, I need more” you whine out, eyes rolling back is ecstasy.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your sopping cunt, a thin sticky string of spit and arousal connects from his swollen lips to your warmth.

Zayne pants out your name, dragging two thick fingers through your fat folds— pulling arousal from your drooling hole all the way to your throbbing clit. A gasp is torn from you when two slender fingers easily press deep into your cunt, slipping in and out with such ease— a loud squelch echoing throughout your bedroom. 

“Haah. . heavens, you look delightful like this, m’ladly” he moans out, his fingers pistoning Ina nd out of your drooling hole— and he’s even curling them perfectly to where they reach nice and deep.

While Zayne is precise and skilled when it comes to using his fingers, he knows you body intimately to where he knows how to make you feel drunk of pleasure. Your gasp and whines is delight of loud, his name leaving your lips after each moan. 

“Ngh! Mmhp! N- need you, now” you breathe out between moans and gasps, pressing him against your bedsheets while you straddle him. 

His cock bobs and twitches against your exposed pussy, coaxing you to roll your hips— moaning when the rough texture of his pants grinds against your puffy bud. As quick as you can, you pull off the bothersome layers of Zayne that stays between you both, pressing his cock again your slicked folds, dragging back and forth.

With an obscure squealchh, Zayne’s thickened head presses into your drooling hole and dips in— fat inches sinking into your velvety walls until he was buried to the hilt of your pussy.

“Ooh. . nghh, my beloved, y- you feel wonderful” Zayne groans out, head tousled agaisnt your pillow, dark hair scattered like a halo.

Shakily, you raise yourself off his lap, slamming yourself back down on his cock with a wet plap.

Your thighs tremble as you set the perfect pace— not too fast, ensuring his cock reaches deep into your velvety walls. Zayne’s grip on your hips tighten, holding onto you as you ride him. 

“Haah. . beloved” you moan, letting him drag you back down to his mouth. . lips lapping at your puffy, stiff nipples. 

Zayne is messy, spit dripping from his lips, catching onto your skin. You can feel him bobbing and throbbing in your cunt, precum beading into your gooey walls. 

“Nghh. . Haah” you whimper out, walls tightening around his slender length. 

“Mmhp-! M- my beloved, please, cum around me, let me make you feel good” he moans out softly, chanting yes over and over again when you tremble in his hold. . walls milking him as you cream around his length. 

He groans into your breasts, cock shooting thin ropes of cum into your walls, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Haah. . n- not done” you murmur, hips slamming into his as you fuck yourslef on his length again. 

. . . .

Sunlight beams through your pushed back curtains, casting a pretty glow on the man naked in your bed, nuzzling into your pillow. You’re sitting at your desk, blinking tiredly as you dip the tip of your quill into the small container of black ink. The soft murmur of your name makes you curiously turn your head, smiling softly when you see Zayne; cheek smushed against your pillow, hair sprawled along your bed, a peaceful expression on his face, and a hand reaching out to find your warmth only for it to be gone.

Your write on the thin paper in front of you faster than before, the barley worth knowing names of noble men are scratched off by black ink, leaving only two names. You cover up the black ink with the cap, the chair making a soft screech sound as it glides against the floor when you get up. You shift under the covers of your sheets, snuggling close to Zayne which he grabs onto you instantly.

One of the two names on the paper included Zayne, just a sweet reminded to consider him as one of your top consort options.

͙͘͡★ All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block ˙⋆✮⋆˚࿔

Xavier noticed instantly, concerned about the shift in your mood.

“What happened, starlight?”

You sighed, refusing to look around. “I hate this. I hate that I can be fully covered and people still stare. I hate feeling like I’m being looked at instead of seen.”

His expression shifted. Calm, patient, but threaded with something darker. His evol flickered at his fingertips, a soft insistence of light he had not summoned intentionally.

“Who?” he asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” you muttered. “It’s just exhausting. I’m tired of being objectified. I’m tired of feeling like my body is an invitation.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your view of the room, gaze locked only on you. “You're not an invitation,” he affirmed, voice soft but edged with steel. “You're not something anyone is entitled to look at like that.”

You felt your throat tighten. “I just hate it. I hate being treated like I’m not even a person.”

Xavier reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me,” he said. “I will make sure they never try again.”

You blinked. “Xavier.”

He worked his jaw, trying to calm himself. “I am not threatening anyone. I am promising that you are not alone. Not ever.”

A slow breath left your chest, and you smiled in response.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Walk with me, starlight. Let them look elsewhere. Your peace is mine to protect.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🖤ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Zayne:

You sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands. “Zayne, can I ask you something?”

He looked up from his notes immediately. “Of course.”

You hesitated. “I've been thinking about breast reduction surgery.”

His pen stopped moving. He placed it down carefully, giving you his full attention. “Tell me what brought this on.”

You exhaled. “My back hurts. My shoulders hurt. Clothes never fit right. People stare no matter what I wear. I just feel so tired of dealing with all of it.”

Zayne nodded slowly. “Those are valid concerns. Chronic pain alone is reason enough to consider it.”

You picked at a loose thread. “But…what if you don't find me attractive after?”

That made him pause. Not confused, but surprised you would even consider it. “Attractiveness is not determined by a single feature,” he said. “You are not defined by your chest. And my feelings are not dependent on its size.”

You looked down again. "“I just want to be comfortable in my own skin.”

“My job,” he said calmly, “is to advocate for your health. Physical and mental.”

He shifted closer, resting a hand gently on your thigh. “I want you to be comfortable in your body. I want you to live without pain. And I will support whatever choice helps you do that.”

Your eyes softened. “You mean that?”

“Yes.” He brushed a thumb over your knuckles. “Your body is already deserving of care. If surgery improves your quality of life, then it is worth considering. But don't ever make a decision based on fear of losing my attraction. You will not, it's impossible.”

You leaned into him, and his arms wrapped around you, steady and reassuring.

“You deserve relief,” he whispered. “And I will stand with you through every decision that brings you closer to it.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🖤ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Rafayel:

You were already irritated before the third dressing room even closed.

“Why is everything either ugly or painful,” you muttered, glaring at the selection of bras hanging on the hook. “It is like designers think having a big chest means I want to wear something that looks like tactical gear.”

Rafayel lounged outside the curtain like he owned the boutique, legs crossed, expression relaxed. “Let me see.”

“No,” you groaned. “None of these fit right. They all hurt. And the cute ones are never made in my size.”

“Then show me,” he insisted, gentler this time.

You stepped out with the defeated slump of someone who had tried too many options. He took one look at the straps digging into your shoulders and stood immediately.

“Go change,” he said. “You are not wearing that.”

You rolled your eyes but retreated to change again. When you came out in the next one, he circled you thoughtfully. “Support is wrong. Band too tight. Cups too shallow. This is not your body’s fault.”

You sighed, staring at the mirror. “I just want something that fits. And maybe something that looks nice for once.”

Rafayel tapped his chin. “Then we will make it.”

You blinked. “Make it?”

“Yes.” He pulled out his sketchbook. “You tell me what you want. Shape. Color. Lace. Structure. Everything. I will design it myself and commission it from someone who actually respects you, and understands the human body.”

Your chest loosened in a way that had nothing to do with fabric. “Rafayel, that is so much work.”

“For you,” he said simply, “I am willing.”

You smiled, excitement brewing inside you as he began sketching.

“Let me build something beautiful for you,” he murmured. “Something worthy of you.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🖤ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Sylus:

The impact of your punch echoed through the training room, but you hissed as soon as your stance shifted.

“Again?” he asked.

You frowned. “My chest hurts when I move like that. My back aches too. It throws my balance off. Having a big chest is annoying.”

Sylus stepped closer, reading your posture like a manual. “Turn around.”

You raised a brow. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

You turned, and his hands settled beneath your chest, lifting gently but firmly, redistributing the weight with startling precision.

You froze. “Sylus…you cannot hold me like this the entire session.”

“Watch me,” he said calmly.

Despite yourself, you laughed. “You cannot support my chest forever.”

He leaned in, voice quiet near your ear. “If it eases your pain, I will. But I can also adjust your routine, strengthen the right muscles, teach you ways to stabilize your frame. I'd do anything to make you comfortable, to make you happy, Kitten.”

Your breath caught. “Sometimes I just feel like my body limits me.”

“No.” His hands stayed steady, grounding you. “Your body is strong. It only needs support in different places. That's not a weakness.”

You turned slightly, meeting his crimson eyes. “You really think that?”

“I don't believe in faulty design,” he said. “Only in the wrong approach. And I will find every right one for you.”

His hands remained warm, steady, and you relaxed into his support without even realizing it.

“You do not have to endure pain alone,” he murmured. “Not when I can help carry it.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ🖤ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Caleb:

It happened again in the middle of the store. You tugged at your shirt, huffing as the fabric pulled in a way that made you instantly self conscious.

Caleb looked over from the cart. “Pips?”

You shook your head. “It's nothing. I just hate how my chest makes everything fit weird. I hate how noticeable it is. I feel like people stare.”

He frowned, walking over immediately. “Who stared?”

“No one! Not now anyway. I just feel…wrong in my own body sometimes.”

Caleb’s expression softened. “Come here.”

You knew that tone. One that was full of protection and concern. He tugged you gently into the aisle corner, shielding you with his body like he always had when you were kids.

“You know,” he said softly, “I have seen every version of you. Every stage. And this is still you. The you that makes me laugh. The you I want to come home to. Your chest does not change any of that.”

You exhaled shakily. “I just wish I felt comfortable.”

“Then we will find what makes you comfortable,” he said. “Different clothes. Different cuts. Whatever you need. And if anyone stares, they can deal with me.”

You raised a brow. “Caleb.”

He grinned. “What? I can be intimidating.” You smiled hesitantly, knowing he could be more than intimidating if needed.

He bumped his shoulder gently against yours. “You don't need to hide from me. You never have. You are safe with me, pips.”

because the truth was—you had thought about them together. more than you should have. in ways that made your cheeks burn and your pulse stutter. you imagined their hands on you, their voices low in your ear, the way they’d take you apart piece by piece until you couldn’t think… until you couldn’t speak. you’d be a big liar if you hadn’t thought about them putting you in compromising positions—fucking you stupid till you were nothing but puddle of mush and cum. 

you’d gnawed on your lip before you ultimately made a choice. if you could even call it that.

you kissed zayne first, soft. timid. like you were afraid of what it might mean. and you could tell he was shocked immediately with the way he tensed beneath you, caught completely off guard. but then his hands found your back, hesitant at first, then certain, pulling you closer as he melted into it, savoring your taste and the feeling of your plush lips. 

caleb fumed. his face flushed, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger—but most of all, hurt. except the second you pulled back from zayne, eyes dazed and hazy, you crawled over to caleb and cradled his face in your hands. you read everything in his eyes. the pain, the longing—it all swam in his violet irises. you pressed your lips to his and caleb didn’t tense. no, caleb devoured you. all the patience zayne had, caleb lacked. where zayne had been soft, caleb was all heat and urgency—he didn’t release you till he physically couldn’t breathe.

he left you breathless. and when you opened your eyes, you peered into his lidded ones. gone was the pain, replaced with dark hunger. carnal desire. a look that would’ve scared you had you not known him your whole life. 

and then, suddenly, the game was over. and you thought, maybe, your friendships with the men you loved were too. 

but when caleb murmured to zayne who sat with his jaw clenched, dark green eyes boring into your back, “since you got to kiss her first, you wouldn’t mind if i fucked her first, would you?”

you went rigid, but you couldn’t deny that your panties were soddened. there was no coming back from this and you knew that.

so maybe that’s how you ended up here. zayne’s hands, soft and cool, the way they’ve always been. caleb’s hands, hot and rough, the way they’ve always been. zayne and caleb ravaging you like it’s something they dreamed of as well. 

and just like in your dreams, caleb has a jealous streak. he always has, but he’s always been subtle. he’s never been this obvious before. 

“sloppy fuckin’ pussy keeps tightening ‘round me, pips,” he laughs incredulously. “does getting fucked by two guys turn you on this much?” 

you gargle around zayne’s cock, spit bubbling at the base. caleb’s words ring in your ears and have your throat constricting around zayne’s fat tip. zayne pulls your head up and off, sweeping the hair out of your face and cooing at your disheveled appearance. 

your swollen lips open to respond, but all that comes out is a high pitched moan elicited by caleb’s rougher thrust. almost like he wants to fuck the response out of you.

“y-yes,” you choke out and the sound of your voice makes caleb twitch, a groan rumbling in his chest behind you. “fuck, yes… i l-love it.”

“you’re so gorgeous, darling. you’re doing so well for us,” zayne whispers, cupping your cheeks with his big hands. he leans down pressing his lips to yours again, swallowing every whimper and moan and whine that comes out of you. “mmm, such a good girl, isn’t she, caleb?” the words are murmured against your lips but he hears them loud and clear. 

caleb’s grip is near bruising now. when the words come out, they’re clipped and just short of a snarl. “yeah, takin’ me like such a good girl… ‘s like you were made for me ‘n my cock.”

zayne smirks, “just yours?”

his dark violet eyes bore into zayne’s glinting ones and he spits with no hesitation whatsoever, “yes.” his thrusts get rougher—deeper. his balls slap against your sopping pussy and every plunge rattles your body. 

“calebbb,” you moan, wrapping your hand around the base of zayne’s cock and pumping him without a sense of rhythm while you cry against his thigh. “mmph, 's t-too deep.” 

he hums in satisfaction, smiling and his eyes flit between your cunt that swallows his thick cock whole and zayne who is still grinning back at him. “you hear that, zayne? it sure sounds like she’s made for me.”

zayne hums, tipping your chin up, gently pulling your attention away from caleb just to look at you. his gaze softens at the sight of your teary eyes, the salty trails slipping down your flushed cheeks, but his body reacts with a throb. his cock aches in your hand and he exhales. his voice is soft when he pipes up which is a stark contrast to what you’re experiencing behind you. “sweetheart, would you like for me to leave you and caleb alone?” zayne murmurs. 

“n-no! no,” you blurt, much to caleb’s dismay—tightening your grip around his cock and jerking him up and down. your hand is inconsistent, as is the speed, but you continue regardless, in fear he feels neglected. you'd die before making him leave. “please… z-zaynie, don’t go. i-i want you.”

caleb nearly growls before you continue. “i want both of you—please.” your voice is barely above a whisper, cracked and broken. “oh god—fuck, please. please. please.”

zayne’s thumb tugs at your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, a soft, breathy praise leaving him as your brows knit together and your eyes flutter closed, pleasure washing over your expression.

“good girl. so good for us,” zayne says. “we’ll take care of you, my love.” it’s a promise that sounds more like a threat with the way caleb continues to pound into you harder. 

you can’t help the way your body reacts. your stomach tightens, your legs shake, your pussy flutters in the most uncontrollable way around your best friends dick. it’s overwhelming—overstimulating. it makes you shake—it reduces you to absolutely nothing. 

“c’mon, baby. cum on this dick. make a mess for me—” zayne cuts him off with the clearing of his throat to which caleb rolls his eyes and corrects himself. “for us.” he mutters begrudgingly. "cum for us, pretty girl."

and caleb’s coaxing along with zayne’s gentle praises drive you over the edge. your body pulls taut, your pussy spasms and you gush all over the cock behind you. your mouth is wide open to let out a silent scream while you completely unravel before the two men. 

"that's it," zayne coos, sweetly while you slump against his thigh. "atta girl. you take it so well, don't you, sweetheart?"

you respond brokenly against his quad, letting caleb fuck you through your orgasm. the plap, plap, plap sounds echo in the room along with labored breathing and desperate whimpers that slip out of both you and caleb. 

neither zayne nor caleb have finished yet, but your body is already giving out. your eyes are fluttering shut, breaths are uneven all the while exhaustion pulls at you like something you can’t quite fight.

you’re right on the edge of slipping away when zayne’s voice cuts through all the haze and brain fog. the way caleb reacts with that low, possessive sound rumbling from his chest, has your already rapid pulse stuttering.

“how would you feel,” zayne murmurs, something teasing laced beneath it, “if me and caleb switched?”

it’s all it takes.

your eyes snap open, a sudden rush of heat and awareness flooding back into your veins, chasing away every trace of fatigue. 

caleb wants to protest—he wants to finish inside of you… to mark and claim you first, but he swallows his words when you lift your head and whisper to the raven haired man sitting in front of you, "i wanna feel you, too. please?"

zayne’s lips tug into a slow, knowing smile, his gaze flicking toward caleb—who looks like he’s barely holding himself together. he's seething, but he'd never truly deny you what you want. neither of them would. 

"what do you say we give our greedy girl what she wants?"

kit says… ummmmmmmmmmmm my two mains taking me to paris would heal me btw. thank u my little rhi @luvinbloom for beta reading <3 ily. COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. ill literally kiss u.