tia

fait avec amour

[cheriefrosting]

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[myntrose]

valko has a love-hate relationship with his glasses.

he loves that they can help him see, obviously. he likes the fact that you like how he looks with them on. he's also the kind of guy to have both glasses and contacts, but actively despite wearing the latter.(and both, really)

you've caught him squinting at food labels, his computer, at the tv. he'll deny it each time, saying that his eyes are just dry and he's adjusting his vision. to which you usually clap back with the fact that he both never uses eye drops to help with said dry eyes, but also because when he does wear contacts, he always forgets to replace them. there has been a few times where you've swatted him to stop wearing his bi-weekly contacts that he's definitely been wearing for more than two weeks.

with that hassle, he'll always prefer his glasses. valko's often got them on at home. if you ever needed one, he's always got one of those micro fabric cloth on hand. sure, he's accidentally slept while wearing them, leaving indents on his temples. he's also got a bad habit of taking them off, forgetting where he put them down, and thus asking for your help to look for where he placed them.

"Angel, please, I can't find them,"

"Have you looked in the bedroom?"

"Baby that's the problem I can't see," he says with wide puppy eyes.

but what he hates the most is how they get in the way when he's got his tongue lapping you up. his head between your legs, eating and licking like a man- or werewolf- starved.

his hands are gripping your thighs, keeping you just open enough to were you're still squeezing his head. it's cause he likes how your thighs brush against the edges of his wolf ears. and oh, does he love when you tangle your hand in his hair, scratching and grazing the most sensitive part of him- besides his tail, of course.

and like everything he does, it's with an energy that he always has. every noise- squelch, slurrpp- between his groans and your whimpers would make you tempted to smack him away, if he wasn't also using his fingers at the same time to spread you open.

and stars is he so messy with it. there is no shame when it comes to making you come with his mouth alone. and that's where valko loves and hates his glasses the most. they'd be so fogged up by now, from the warmth he's creating between your thighs. he can barely see in front of him. but fuck, it turns him on so much that he can see (or.. not see?) how good he's making you feel. he takes the fogging up as a sign that he's getting you right there, so, so, close.

and don't worry- if you find it uncomfortable, maybe if the edge of the frames poke your skin, he'll take it off no problem. but once you're coming undone, rest assured that valko will ride you through your high, before pulling back and throwing his glasses back on to see the mess he's made of you.

bonus headcanons!

if you wear glasses too, he's bought custome matching frames for the both of you

he also has several pairs. round frames, thin metal frames, even those chunky black plastic frames that give a very clark kent/superman vibe

my favorite headcanon i read was that with him being a werewolf, his glasses could be colorblind glasses since dogs have a very limited color range

if you don't wear glasses, he would gift you a pair that looks like his, with no grade and just the blue light filter. "so we're matching and it would be less strain when you're on your phone and computer ^-^"

BONUS FUN FACT : this fic was inspired by me this morning, forgetting to take my glasses off in the shower, and thus fogging them up badly

all right reserved to @myntrose on tumblr. do not copy, translate, repost, or claim my work as your own. the artwork on my blog does not belong to me, unless stated otherwise. likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcomed.

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | your boyfriends sylus and zayne make up by making out on your pussy

It was difficult to believe they'd been arguing just two minutes prior.

But now, with your shorts hanging off an ankle and your legs spread wide apart, Zayne's right there. Licking a long, languid and very loud stripe against your weeping cunt, loving the way she flutters at his attention.

Zayne's focus on your pussy goes for a toss when the lips on his neck bite down with the intention to break skin before they're soothing the sting with their tongue.

"Once I'm done with her" Zayne pulls back to say, glaring over his shoulder "I'm going to come over there and kill you"

Sylus laughs, moving past Zayne and replacing his lips over your neglected cunt "Then we should make sure she has a good one, hm?" Suctioning his lips against your entrance before releasing with a pop, the squelching sound is obscene as you heave "Fuck, sweetie. Eager?"

You're nodding, whimpering as Sylus plunges his tongue in deep, curving it just right and making you buck. Both men watch with satisfaction as you squirm under their grip, unable to move away but loving the feel of being held down.

Zayne's kissing along your inner thighs, nipping and biting at the skin. The love bites bloom against your skin as he holds one quivering leg down while Sylus digs his entire face into your pussy, nose bumping against your clit.

You've got one hand in Sylus' silver locks, holding him in place while the other kneads your breast, sobbing at the way his tongue brushes against that sweet spot inside. Zayne has decided to divvy up his attention between both his lovers, lips tracing against Sylus' neck, kissing his jaw and chin before licking your slick spread over his cheeks off him.

Sylus pauses, turning his head to meet Zayne halfway, letting him suck on his tongue to taste you off him. He's got his hand in Zayne's hair, gripping the lush locks and pulling him closer, groaning into his mouth as Zayne massages his thigh, rubbing not-so-innocent circles a little too close to where Sylus wanted his hands.

"Filthy doctor" He's mumbling as Zayne pulls his lower lip between his teeth, tempting him with those glacial greens.

"Slutty mobster" Zayne shoots back, biting down on Sylus' lip before diving into your pussy now that the other man was successfully distracted.

You loved watching your boyfriends' foreplay. They could tell the other they hated their face while jerking themselves off to it. Or call someone every name under the sun even while they bent the other one over their desk. That wasn't to say they didn't manage to get you caught up between them everytime.

"You're so fucking lucky I love you" Sylus purrs, undeterred as he joins Zayne, kitten licking against your folds as you cry out.

Zayne lets go of your clit with a pop, turning those enticing emerald orbs towards his lover "You love me?" He looks at you where you're watching with some amusement "That's the first I've heard of this"

Sylus also grabs your eye from where he looks unimpressed at Zayne jesting "He thinks he's funny"

"As a matter of fact-"

"I think you should shut up"

"Make me-" Zayne never gets to complete what he's saying, not with Sylus trapping your pussy lips between the both of them and kissing Zayne over it.

He's moaning embarrassingly loud as he kisses Sylus around it, sucking on your folds that are trapped between their hot mouths. Tongues running over each other, the sounds obscene as they exchange saliva, taking turns to press down on your skin, gently nipping and pulling it between their teeth. They've got your thighs quivering, making you struggle for every breath as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Zayne's the first to pull back, severing the connection between their mouth as his feverishly hot tongue strokes your clit, lapping at it before drawing it into his mouth. They're holding your trembling body down, fingers leaving marks into your skin from how hard they grip it. Sylus has his tongue inside you before you can recover from that, curving it just right and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks your juices. He licks a lewd stripe up to where Zayne is toying with your nub before they capture it between their tongues, teasing you but more importantly, each other as you cry out in ecstasy.

"You taste fucking heavenly" Sylus is groaning, clearly out of breath when Zayne pulls back, grabbing a handful of your breast and massaging it with care and adoration "Both of you"

Removing his glasses that had been sitting askew on his face and drenched in your juices, Zayne is smirking as he pulls Sylus in for another frenzied kiss "She always does"

Zayne's got his fingers replacing where Sylus had just been, splitting you open for him again. Pulling back, the silver-haired man goes in for the kill, licking over his lover's fingers before he dives in, the debauched sounds filling the room as they push your legs wider apart. Zayne's joining Sylus and their tongues fight to be inside you at the same time before making up with your clit caught between them. The fluttering nub can barely handle the assault, you're none the wiser as you grab fistfuls of their hair. Not sure if it was to pull them apart or keep them there.

Your pussy is gushing and they suckle every drop between them, licking against your heated skin like it's their lifeline. You're so far gone you don't know which is which with one circling your pearly nub while the other laps at your folds, the squelching sounds mixed with your whimpers as you feel yourself climbing that high, the knot in your belly tightening to the point of pain. They swap your juices and saliva, open mouthed and downright carnal, groaning and feral at the sounds they're getting out of you as you weep in overstimulation.

Zayne flicks a glance at you, teary-eyed and dazed, mouth parched and body writhing "You're doing so good, baby. Isn't she, Sy?"

His agreement is hummed straight into your sopping cunt, making you buck your hips into his face. They each capture one of your lower lips between theirs and suck, the cool air hitting your most intimate spot and making you shudder.

When their lips lock above yours again, you're a goner as the knot in your stomach snaps and your orgasm washes over you with a vengeance, broken whimpers and sobs escaping you as the shockwaves from the climax leaves your entire body trembling.

Your boyfriends are too busy laving up every last drop of your release, tongues entangling with each other and sucking your taste off one other. Ragged moans caught between them, hands groping against pieces of clothing and digging in too deep into your thighs to the point of leaving behind indents.

Chins glistening with the remnants of your juices, they turn their gazes towards where you're still recovering from that high, delirious and euphoric. Sylus holds your gaze as he leans in to clean you off Zayne's face, fingers wrapped around his throat to hold him in place.

Your boyfriends know that watching them is enough to turn you on as Zayne turns his face, capturing Sylus' lips and taking a sweet, long pull. Icy emerald orbs glint in the low lighting as they notice the fluttering of your pussy, both from the aftermath of the mind-blowing orgasm they'd pulled out of you and for what was coming next.

Unclasping your bra, you slide off the sofa and join them on the floor, one hand on each of their thighs, rubbing innocent circles as you look at them from beneath your lashes.

"When do I get a kiss?"

🜼 🜼 🜼

A/N: Happy Father's Day indeed.

masterlist

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | eat my cake and have it too ft. wolfapple

minors dni.

Crushed between two bodies that naturally ran hot with the heat of the comforter trapping you under, you were running too hot to be able to breathe comfortably. As if the temperature wasn't already rivaling the Sun, you're also pressed between two rock hard bodies. Your legs tangled, hands under your night shirt and grabbing handfuls of your ass.

It's suffocating and you can't take another minute longer, trying to wedge yourself out of their hold but they've got you locked down. Attempting to detangle your legs so you can kick the thick comforter off is an action in vain when you're pinned down so tightly that its stifling.

Long day spent playing in the sea had left the three of you exhausted to the point of being unable to take a single step farther than the bed, falling into the mattress in a heap straight out of the shower. Now the sun had set already, and the moonlight was your guiding star as you squinted into the darkness of the room to check the time on the clock.

You managed to free one arm from their iron grip and tap on the cheek nuzzled into your hair behind you before you repeated the same on the exposed cheek that was smushed against your chest.

Caleb stirred, groaning against your tits as he snuggled closer instead of pulling away. Behind you, Valko's arm tightened around you, pulling you closer into his chest. These boys would be the death of you.

"Let me go" You whined, twisting your body so they'd loosen their hold.

Caleb popped an eye open only to press a searing hot kiss to your collarbone before drawing you in again "Go back to sleep, Pips"

"I can't" You push at his arms "It's too hot"

Without opening his eyes, Caleb kicks the thick comforter off you both making you groan in relief when the cool air-conditioning hits your skin, pressing a kiss into his hair as thanks. He takes this opportunity to suck on the mounds of your breasts that are practically spilling out of your tight camisole. Your nails dig into his bicep that rounds your waist and grabs your ass cheek, pulling you tighter against him.

A movement that is slightly restricted thanks to the other arm branded around your waist like a vise, fingers teasing the waistband of your panties as you feel teeth nip at your ear "Having fun without me?"

Over your shoulder, your lips meet Valko's as he kisses you leisurely, tongue swirling with yours, grinding his thick cock against your ass at the same time as Caleb freeing your breasts and sucking on your hardened nipples till they peak. Valko's already got a finger circling your clit before two of them breach past your soaked folds and into your warmth, making you buck into his palm at the intrusion and collide with Caleb's hard length straining inside his boxers. It makes Caleb groan deep in his throat, now also grinding his hard-on against you, the comforter tangling between your legs.

"Mmh" Valko pulls back from your lips with a soft nibble on your lower lip, passing you over to Caleb's waiting mouth who directly sucks your moans into his mouth as you hump Valko's hand, slightly delirious from the feel of both their cocks crowding you. The squelch from your pussy gushing is loud, your broken moans rising in octave as Caleb takes a long pull at your lips, a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he lets you up for air "More more more- please!"

"Yeah?" They chorus, Valko's lips biting down on your ear again as you snake an arm around his nape to hold on while he works you up with two fingers. Caleb's massaging your tits roughly in his big palms, shamelessly grinding against your dripping cunt as you whimper into his mouth. Your other hand fits itself in the middle of your bodies, rubbing over his erection, feeling it twitch beneath your palm as your fingers pull him out of his boxers, wrapping and squeezing him tight in your grip. His groan is feral, thrusting his cock into your fist while biting down on your swollen lips.

Your fingers are moving around Caleb in tandem with Valko's scissoring inside you. He's got you chasing your peak as you grind against his fingers, whines growing louder as your mouth slides over Caleb's, nodding when he coos at you "Close?" with your forehead glistening with sweat as you pant against his throat, dazedly watching his Adam's apple bob with the way your grip unknowingly tightens against his length.

Your release washes over you so suddenly, the shockwaves making your entire body tremble as Valko bites down on your shoulder. He's throwing your leg over Caleb's waist, clearly impatient as he slides your panties to the side, his entire body draped over your back and thrusts into your sensitive pussy in one go. Swallowing your cry into his mouth while Caleb kisses his way down your neck, carefully drawing out every thrust as opposed to Valko who looks like he's about to shoot his load into you then and there.

"Feels s'good" He's slurring, brows scrunched as his fingers still coated with your slick find Caleb's mouth who takes them between his lips.He's moaning around the digits, licking every inch of the skin clean, his tongue swirling between the v of the fingers and around their length "How's she taste?"

"Divine" Caleb groans out, grabbing the back of Valko's head and smashing their lips together, their bodies rumbling with appreciative growls as they exchange your taste between them "Fill her up-" His entire body bucks as Valko's hands tease the underside of Caleb's leaking cock, hand wrapping around yours and helping you pump up and down his length "-fuck- fill her up so full so I can taste- hah" He's whimpering against Valko's mouth "- taste you both off her after this"

Valko's cock grows harder at that, making your toes curl as he pounds into your sopping cunt with renewed force, trapping you between their writhing bodies, moving together in a dizzying pace as you worked each other up towards that pleasure. Your lips collide in a mess with theirs, groaning and panting and locking mouths, taking turns exchanging saliva, sweaty bodies sliding against one another.

One hand gripping the locks of Valko's hair behind you while the other was wrapped around Caleb's neck, keeping him close as you and Valko doubled down on your onslaught, your thumb pressing down on the tip as Valko pumped his length in rough, drawn-out strokes making Caleb bury his face against yours, sucking on your lips as he thrust into Valko's grip now.

Other hand snaking under your hips, Valko's rubbing your clit as you whimper against Caleb's lips, strangled mewls escaping you with how rough Caleb manhandles your tits, slapping one before palming it tightly again. Your body is convulsing, eyelids fluttering as you tremble in their grip.

"Fuck fuck fuck-" Valko's sunk his teeth into every inch of skin exposed to him "Gripping me so tight, baby" He's rutting into you despite the tightening of your walls, growling at how good every snap of his hips against yours feels.

"S'good" You're purring, chasing Caleb's lips that are also swollen till he's closing the space between you two.

"He's fucking you so good, isn't he?" There is something so satisfying about hearing Caleb whisper sweet nothings to you as you lose yourself into the kiss, nodding your agreement while Valko slams into your pussy so hard it has you seeing stars behind your eyelids "Yeah he is" You feel Caleb's cock leaking more pre as he thrusts into your grip "You're going to be good for us? Gon' cum for us, pretty baby?"

"Mhm" Valko's curved tip brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly has rendered you unable to spell a single legible word out as Caleb brushes your hair back, connecting your foreheads. Hand falling to your waist, he's pushing you down as Valko thrusts upwards into you, your orgasm crashing into you as your grip falters around Caleb, limbs twitching as your body quivers in the aftermath of that mind-blowing climax.

Valko keeps up his erratic pace, fucking you through your orgasm as he chases his high, pumping his hand up and down Caleb's length at a dizzying pace. Their breaths are ragged as they both thrust against you in unison, locking lips over your shoulder as they confine you between them till they're cumming, thick spurts of their release lining your pussy walls and belly at the same time, groaning at the power with which they succumbed to their pleasure.

For long moments, the three of you lie there in a heap of tangled, sticky bodies covered in sweat, leisurely making out as you finally get the opportunity to turn on your back when Valko pulls out of you, eliciting a whimper. Both your boyfriends descend on you, one's figurative and the other's literal tail swishing as you run your hands through their hair.

You try to push them off you "We're going to be late for dinner"

Their faces have the same wolfish grin as they help you out of your drenched panties and tug your camisole off as you gape at them "Dinner can wait, Pips" Caleb's spreading your thighs apart, appreciative groan spilling from his lips as he watches Valko's cum dribbling out of your pussy "I can't"

"Cal-! Oh" His tongue licks a long, languid stripe up your folds, making you fall back into the pillows before you turn your pout at your other boyfriend, hoping he's more compliant "Val. I'm hungry"

Valko's solution is to kiss your pout off your lips "I know, sweetheart" But he's not making any move to dissuade Caleb who is moaning against your pussy lips, blowing air on it just to watch it flutter "Dinner after this, promise"

"After?" You're about to turn your glare on full force but you catch sight of Valko pumping his semi hard-on, amber orbs zeroed in on the way Caleb has his entire face buried into your cunt. Watch the way his eyes light up when you spread your legs further apart.

Fingers finding his face, you guide him closer to where Caleb was greedily lapping up your juices, knowing he was a heartbeat away from joining his boyfriend anyway.

"Dessert first?"

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | Zayne is a well-trained boyfriend

In which Zayne has taken lessons from Penelope Bridgerton to deliver gossip to his loving girlfriend.

"I have tea"

You look up from the book you'd been reading as Zayne removes his shoes at the door, his eyes wide and his movements hurried in a manner that was so unlike him that it had you sitting up.

"Tea?" You laughed against his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you by the way of greeting before he moved to remove his coat and put down his briefcase.

"Yes" He affirmed, nodding his head, the jittery energy so vibrant that it was hard to ignore "Tea. Piping hot" He added, laughing to himself.

Your eyebrows shot up at that. Had you really influenced your boyfriend so much that he was using slang so effortlessly in his daily speech now? As Zayne finally took the space on the couch next to you, buzzing with suppressed energy, you decided that was a conversation for another time.

"What is it?"

"Okay so-" If you were shocked with how flawlessly Zayne transitioned into podcast mode, you certainly had no words to express it "Remember when we met Dr. Wilson's niece at his dinner party last month?" When you nodded, he went on "And remember when you asked me if Greyson and her were a thing?" When you nodded again, Zayne straightened, his lower lip crushed beneath his teeth in ill-concealed glee "Guess what?"

"What?" You inched closer, the throw getting tangled between your legs as you scooted into Zayne's space.

"Greyson and her hooked up that night!" Zayne waited for effect as your mouth dropped open, jaw unhinged as he resumed "Get this. While the party was going on"

"Shut up!" You squealed, one fist lightly smacking Zayne's arm "You're serious?"

"Mhm mhm, I am" He nodded, looking mighty proud before he focused on the pressing gossip at hand "That's not all though"

"Okay, you're literally edging me on purpose right now"

"She starts visiting Greyson's office at the hospital and everyone knew. I saw her thrice myself" Your mouth dropped again at that but Zayne was far from done "Ofcourse, they're keeping this tight and under the wraps because Dr. Wilson's his superior and because she's an intern, she has a valid reason to be in the hospital just- not always during the same shift"

You shrug in a "duh" gesture, signalling your boyfriend to go on "But then-" Zayne's voice drops in a conspiratorial manner "She's in the cardiology department on a day Greyson has off"

Your brows furrow at that "Why?"

Zayne is practically jittery from having to hold all this in for his entire shift "Do you remember who wasn't present for Dr. Wilson's party?" You pause, mentally accounting for all of your boyfriend's colleagues that you knew of but Zayne gets impatient "Yvonne"

Your mouth might permanently unhinge from the amount of times its dropped in the past few minutes "So? Yvonne likes Greyson?"

"No, baby-" Zayne takes hold of your arms and shakes you "The niece is also involved with Yvonne"

You can't take sitting anymore, you get up, pacing around the coffee table "Are you fucking serious?"

Zayne's laughing too, unable to comprehend the entirety of it all "Yes. She was two-timing them. The entire time"

You're still pacing, mind still reeling from everything you've heard when something clicks and you're sitting back down "How'd you find out?"

"Oh my God-" Zayne throws his head back in the most dramatic sigh you've ever seen "Apparently she was supposed to meet Greyson in the janitor's closet but Yvonne saw her first and thought she was there for her. So she-"

"Followed her inside?!-"

"-Followed her inside" Zayne's shaking his head "And two seconds later, bam-" He bumps his fists together, the most unexpected gesture he's ever made in your two year long relationship "-Greyson's there too. It was an epic showdown"

"Please tell me someone got it on camera"

Zayne pauses, taking a moment to remember if anyone might have before he shrugs "I could ask for the security footage" You gleefully clap your hands, climbing into his lap as he goes on "They're both lucky that only a handful of people found out the entire story and even luckier that none of those people are snitches"

You hum along, the situation was entertaining but could also be jeopardising for everyone involved "Well" You tap your boyfriend's nose lightly "Except you"

Zayne shoots you a sham look of annoyance "I bring you this steaming hot cup of tea and this is your thanks?"

You peck his lips quickly, hands deftly making their way underneath his shirt "Ofcourse not. I taught my boyfriend well. Just like he did me"

A/N: I cannot be convinced Zayne would not be an complete gossip monger. He's the kind to outwardly roll his eyes at any new piece of information before storing it and later piecing it together with his girlfriend.

zayne m.list | masterlist

[xxsyluslittlecrowxx]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐄

synopsis: after a disastrous day on set, rafayel turns up at sylus’s apartment looking for whisky, attention, and a fight he can flirt his way through. what begins as sharp banter and petty provocation soon slips into something far more dangerous: being wanted by the one man who refuses to be fooled by the performance. cw/tw: sylus x rafayel. crowfish. rafayel!actor x sylus!sponsor au. li x li. nsfw. mdni. smut. blowjob. brat behaviour from fishboy. teasing. anal penetration. edging. light powerplay. smut without plot. read here: ao3 ⋅ tumblr a/n: a little resurrection of a fic i once removed from the world. also, yes, i am deeply fond of watching my two men remember how much they enjoy each other.

Rafayel had spent years perfecting the art of appearing carelessly beautiful.

It required more effort than most people realised.

A jacket slipping from one shoulder could suggest exhaustion, provided it fell at the correct angle. Three undone buttons whispered of heat and impatience; four began to look desperate. Even the arrangement of his limbs across Sylus’s obscenely expensive sofa had been considered, though only briefly, because too much thought ruined the instinctive quality of the thing.

One leg stretched along the cushions. The other hung over the armrest, loafer still attached, its sole hovering perilously close to the pale upholstery. Beneath the open edges of his shirt, studio powder clung to the warm hollow between his collarbones.

He looked ravaged.

Tastefully so.

“They made me kiss her twenty-two times.”

At the windows, Sylus unfastened his watch. The clasp made a small metallic sound. Nothing else followed.

Rafayel tilted the whisky glass balanced against his stomach and watched amber climb the crystal. It was Sylus’s whisky, naturally. His own collection contained rare bottles, beautifully labelled and mostly chosen for sentimental reasons. Sylus bought liquor as though preparing to bribe kings.

“Twenty-two,” he repeated, placing great significance upon each syllable. “I can still taste her lipstick. Cherry. Artificial cherry. The sort that makes you think of cough medicine and poor decisions behind a nightclub.”

Sylus laid the watch beside his keys.

There came no sympathy from him, or even the grudging noise he sometimes made when acknowledging that another person had spoken.

Rafayel raised his voice. “Hello!? My lips may never recover.”

“They appear functional.”

A smile threatened at the corner of Rafayel’s mouth, though he smothered it beneath an injured sigh. “You could at least pretend to care.”

“I could.”

“How comforting.”

Sylus shrugged out of his jacket. The movement drew the dark fabric taut across his shoulders before it came away, revealing the cleaner lines of his waistcoat beneath. Every part of him remained offensively composed. After midnight, following meetings that had probably involved threats, bloodshed, or financial reports—Rafayel had never determined which Sylus disliked most—he still looked as though disorder had approached and been refused entry.

Rafayel drank. The whisky warmed his tongue, followed by a ribbon of smoke and spice.

“You know,” he continued, “I’ve kissed fewer people in my entire life.”

Sylus glanced over.

“I highly doubt that.”

The insult arrived with such calm precision that Rafayel placed a hand over his heart. “Cruel.”

“Accurate.”

“Cruelty disguised as accuracy remains cruelty.”

“You should put that on a pillow.”

Rafayel stared at him.

Sylus’s expression held for perhaps two seconds before amusement disturbed it, a brief tightening near the eyes, the ghost of a smile he clearly intended to deny.

There you are.

Rafayel shifted deeper into the cushions, pleased with himself. “She had no rhythm, either.”

“Tragic.”

“It was. I moved closer; she moved away. I turned my head; she turned in the same direction. We nearly broke each other’s noses during take fourteen.”

“A shame you didn’t.”

“Are you jealous?”

Sylus had begun rolling his sleeves. One precise fold, then another, revealing his forearms inch by inch. “Should I be?”

“At least a little. I spent eight hours with my mouth on another person.”

“And still came here.”

The answer settled lower than Rafayel expected. He covered the flicker in his chest by taking a sip.

“I came for the whisky.”

“Of course.”

“And your charming company.”

“I’m touched.”

“You disguise it well.”

Taking the empty glass from Rafayel’s loose fingers, Sylus examined it as though the evidence of theft had only just become apparent. Then he lifted it to his own mouth and finished the thin amber trace clinging to the bottom.

From the same edge Rafayel had used. A negligible act. Meaningless, perhaps. Rafayel’s gaze remained on Sylus’s lips anyway.

“How was the scene?” Sylus asked.

“Catastrophic. We may have destroyed cinema forever.”

“That bad?”

“The director wept.”

“With joy?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Sylus crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured another measure. Ice cracked beneath the liquor. “You usually enjoy making people weep.”

“Only when they deserve it.”

“And she didn’t?”

The whisky arrived before Rafayel could reach for it. Sylus held the glass just beyond his fingers, waiting. A petty punishment. Rafayel pushed himself upright enough to take it, though Sylus retained his hold for one beat longer than necessary.

Cold crystal between them. Their fingers touching.

Then the glass came free.

Rafayel settled back. “She smiled.”

Sylus’s brows drew together.

“During the confession,” he explained, watching the ice instead of the man standing over him. “Every time the camera came close, she smiled.”

“Perhaps she was nervous.”

“Perhaps.”

“Were you?”

The question slipped under his guard with irritating ease.

Rafayel scoffed and tipped his head against the cushions. “I have never been nervous in my life.”

“You threw up before your first opening.”

“That was food poisoning.”

“You drank champagne for breakfast.”

“The grapes had turned.”

Sylus lowered himself into the armchair opposite, one ankle crossing his knee. “Naturally.”

Rafayel took another drink.

Silence pooled around them, accompanied by the low hum of the city beyond the windows. Usually he could bend silence into whatever shape he wanted. A laugh would make it conspiratorial, a sigh turned it dramatic, one well-chosen remark could fill a room more effectively than music.

Tonight, it resisted him.

“She smiled,” he said again, quieter now, “as though she’d already seen herself in the trailer.”

Sylus waited. The patience of him could become unbearable. He simply watched, leaving Rafayel to decide whether the truth should live or be smothered.

“It was supposed to be ugly.” Rafayel’s thumb moved along the damp side of the glass. “The confession, I mean. He’s loved her for years and resents her for making it impossible to stop. She knows accepting him will ruin them both. There should have been shame in it. Anger. Something that cost her.”

“And instead?”

“Cherry lipstick.”

A small smile softened Sylus’s mouth.

Rafayel flicked a cushion at him.

Rather than strike him, it sailed past the armchair and collapsed several feet away with an undignified sigh.

Sylus followed its path with his eyes. “Impressive.”

“I adjusted for the air current.”

“There is no air current.”

“Exactly. Sabotage.”

“By the air?”

“It has always resented me.”

His own laughter came more easily this time, loosening something caught beneath his ribs. Sylus did not join him, though the amusement remained on his face.

Rafayel stretched his legs across the glass table. The soles of his loafers landed on its spotless surface.

Sylus’s gaze dropped.

“Remove them.”

“Come and remove them.”

Another sip of whisky concealed Rafayel’s smile.

Across from him, Sylus gave no immediate response. He merely studied the offending shoes, then Rafayel’s face, measuring the provocation for hidden edges.

“It must be exhausting,” Rafayel mused, “having everything exactly where it belongs.”

“It was, before you arrived.”

“And yet you continue giving me the access code.”

“A temporary lapse in judgement.”

“Repeated weekly.”

“I remain optimistic.”

Rafayel dragged one heel across the glass, leaving a deliberate streak. “About reforming me?”

“About the possibility that you’ll grow bored.”

“With you?” He let his attention wander over Sylus’s loosened collar, the rolled sleeves, the powerful lines of his hands. “Unlikely.”

The room changed.

Barely.

A thread had tightened somewhere between them, invisible and suddenly capable of drawing blood.

Sylus raised his glass. “You like the attention.”

Rafayel’s smile became sharper. “Everyone likes attention.”

“You need it.”

“I inspire it. There’s a difference.”

“You arrive complaining about being watched, then sprawl across my furniture until I look at you.”

“I’m tired.”

“You put your shoes on my table.”

“My legs are tired.”

“You opened another button while I was pouring the whisky.”

Rafayel looked down.

His shirt had, indeed, acquired a fourth opening.

“How observant.”

“You made certain I would be.”

A laugh hovered at the back of his throat. He swallowed it with the whisky, although warmth had already begun creeping beneath his skin.

“Perhaps I enjoy presenting you with something worth looking at.”

“Perhaps,” Sylus murmured, “you’re testing how much you must reveal before I stop seeing the performance.”

The warmth vanished.

Rafayel rested the glass against his thigh. “You’re very pleased with that sentence.”

“I’m pleased when I’m right.”

“Then I imagine you’re accustomed to disappointment.”

Sylus leaned back.

No retaliation came. No clever barb or victorious smirk.

Only that gaze.

Steady. Unimpressed by brightness. He looked at Rafayel the way he might look at a locked door whose mechanism he had already understood.

Rafayel nudged his knee with the toe of his loafer.

The gesture restored movement to the room, or seemed to.

“Nothing?” he prompted.

Sylus glanced down at the leather pressing against the crease of his trousers.

Rafayel pushed higher.

“Twenty-two kisses,” he said, voice softening around the provocation, “and I come home to a man who refuses even to pretend he wants me. Imagine what that could do to my self-esteem.”

“This isn’t your home.”

“Cold.”

“And you possess enough self-esteem for several minor countries.”

“Still cold.”

His foot travelled farther up Sylus’s thigh. The edge of his sole brushed close enough to feel the heat beneath the fabric. Rafayel watched the movement, then lifted his lashes.

“Maybe you don’t know what to do with me.”

Sylus placed his glass on the table.

A quiet click. Crystal against wood.

The sound passed through Rafayel more effectively than any raised voice.

Sylus’s hand closed around his ankle.

Firmness without force. Heat encircling the slim joint. Rafayel’s muscles tightened beneath the grip, a response so immediate that amusement flashed across Sylus’s features.

“Careful,” Rafayel warned, though the word emerged lower than intended. “These shoes are custom.”

“They’re on my table.”

“And therefore deserve execution?”

“They’re in my way.”

Sylus slipped the loafer from his foot.

The motion should have been ordinary. Practical. Instead, his thumb dragged along the hollow beneath Rafayel’s ankle, where the pulse fluttered close to the skin. He took his time removing the second shoe, fingertips following the curve of bone before the leather came free.

Both loafers landed neatly on the rug.

Rafayel remained held.

“You could let go,” he observed.

“I could.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“You’ve become quiet.”

“Enjoy it. A rare luxury.”

Sylus pressed his thumb against the pulse beneath his hand.

Rafayel’s toes curled.

A single betraying movement. Small enough that another man might have missed it.

Sylus didn't.

His gaze lifted, heavy now with recognition.

“Still want me to let go?”

Rafayel leaned farther into the cushions. “I want to see what you intend to do.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You already know.”

The fingers around his ankle slid beneath the hem of his trousers, gliding over warm, bare skin. Slowly enough that each centimetre registered. Rafayel suppressed a shiver by drawing his other knee up, adopting an ease he no longer felt.

“Presumptuous.”

“You came here for this.”

“I came here for the whisky.”

“You drank it.”

“I might want more.”

Sylus’s thumb travelled along the inside of his calf. “You want many things.”

“And you’re famously generous.”

“Only when asked properly.”

The statement hung between them, darkly polished.

Rafayel laughed, but something brittle entered the sound. “How tedious. You know I don’t beg.”

“Oh, I know you do.”

His breath caught.

Sylus released him.

The sudden loss of contact felt like a punishment. Rafayel drew his leg back before the instinct to follow became visible, folding both feet beneath him as he sat upright.

“Arrogant bastard.”

A tilt of Sylus’s head acknowledged the familiar accusation. “You’ve said that already.”

“I’m trying to help you remember.”

“I remember everything you say.”

The reply stripped the next joke from Rafayel’s tongue.

For a moment, the room held only their breathing.

He looked away first.

Below them, traffic passed through the city in streams of pale light. Thousands of windows, thousands of private rooms. People moving through their small lives, performing joy, grief, desire. Telling each other whatever was required to remain loved until morning.

“It gets old,” he admitted.

Sylus didn't ask what he meant.

Rafayel’s fingers worried the cuff of his shirt. “The staring. People decide what they want me to be before I enter a room. Charming. Difficult. Beautiful. Cruel. It saves them the inconvenience of meeting me.”

“You encourage them.”

“It’s my job.”

“It’s convenient.”

His jaw tightened. “You think you understand everything.”

“No.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“Only you?” Rafayel guessed, allowing mockery to return.

“Yes.”

His eyes snapped back to Sylus.

There was no smile waiting for him. No indication that the line had been offered for effect. Sylus watched him with an unnerving steadiness, his attention resting on details Rafayel could not conceal: the faster rise of his chest, his fingers gone still around the cuff, the pulse beating at the exposed base of his throat.

“You should teach a course,” Rafayel muttered. “How to make affection sound vaguely threatening.”

“Would you attend?”

“I’d heckle from the back.”

“You’d sit in the front.”

“And distract you.”

“You already do.”

The admission settled warmly between them.

Rafayel’s mouth curved. Softer this time.

Then Sylus stood.

The size of him altered the room. One moment he sat across from Rafayel, contained by the armchair; the next, his shadow fell over the sofa, darkening silk and skin.

Rafayel tipped his chin upwards. “Looming is terribly unsubtle.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could at least offer me another drink before taking advantage.”

“A third? I think you’ve had enough.”

“And there goes the romance.”

Sylus’s fingers found the open collar of his shirt. Rather than undo the next button, he traced its edge, following the line where silk met skin. Rafayel felt the path of that touch in places it had never reached.

“This is what you came for,” Sylus murmured.

Rafayel’s hand settled against his waistcoat. “You remain very certain.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

The challenge warmed Sylus’s breath against his mouth.

Rafayel could have denied it. The scene offered him every opportunity: a scoff, a laugh, some exquisite little insult to restore distance.

Instead, he hooked two fingers beneath Sylus’s collar and pulled.

Their mouths met without elegance.

The first kiss bruised rather than persuaded. Teeth caught, whisky passed warm between tongues, and Rafayel’s head struck the cushions when Sylus followed him down. He laughed into the kiss, startled and pleased by the sudden violence of it, then bit Sylus’s lower lip until a low sound vibrated through the man above him.

At last.

Rafayel drew back just enough to speak. “Twenty-three.”

Sylus’s eyes were darker at this distance. “What?”

“My total for the day.”

“You’re counting that among the others?”

“Jealousy suits you.”

One hand closed around the back of Rafayel’s neck.

“I’m not jealous.”

“No?” He brushed his mouth against Sylus’s, withholding the kiss at the last instant. “Then perhaps I should describe them.”

“I’m familiar with poor acting.”

“Her mouth was very soft.”

Sylus tightened his grip.

Rafayel’s grin flashed.

“She made this little sound whenever I—”

The rest disappeared beneath Sylus’s mouth.

He kissed Rafayel as though trying to erase every touch that had preceded him. The slow refinement vanished, replaced by hunger sharpened through restraint. Rafayel welcomed it with equal greed, hands moving over Sylus’s shoulders, dragging the waistcoat open until buttons strained beneath his fingers.

Sylus broke away only to seize the silk at Rafayel’s chest.

One button slipped free.

Then another.

He worked downwards with infuriating patience, exposing Rafayel a measured piece at a time. Cool air touched his sternum, his ribs, the tense plane of his stomach.

“Is this meant to intimidate me?” Rafayel wondered aloud.

Sylus’s knuckles skimmed the edge of his nipple.

His breath stumbled.

“Apparently not,” Sylus replied.

“Cheap trick.”

“Effective.”

Two fingers closed around the sensitive peak and twisted with controlled pressure.

Pleasure flashed beneath Rafayel’s skin. His spine lifted from the cushions before pride could interfere, chest pushing into Sylus’s hand.

The answering smile appeared slowly.

“I hate that expression.”

“You put it there.”

“Then I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“Another one.”

Sylus lowered his mouth to Rafayel’s throat.

A kiss first, warm and deceptively gentle. Then teeth. The bite drew a sharp sound from him, followed by the heat of Sylus’s tongue passing over the mark.

Rafayel curled a hand in his hair. “That will show on camera.”

“Yes.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

Another bite bloomed lower, over his collarbone.

Rafayel’s fingers tightened. “People pay a great deal of money for this skin.”

“They can admire what’s left.”

Laughter broke from him, breathless and disbelieving. “Possessive.”

Sylus raised his head. “Do you object?”

The directness of the question cut cleanly through the game.

Rafayel studied him, close enough to see the faint flush beneath his cheekbones and the strain hidden within his stillness. Control, he realised, had never meant indifference. Sylus felt it all; he simply refused to be ruled by it.

Rafayel slid his palm along the hard line of his jaw.

“No.”

The word came quietly.

Sylus waited.

“No,” he repeated, drawing him closer. “I don’t object.”

A kiss touched the centre of his palm.

The tenderness of it disturbed him more than the teeth had.

Before it could deepen into something dangerous, Rafayel caught Sylus by the front of his shirt and rolled, forcing him backwards into the sofa. Surprise widened those red eyes for a fraction of a second.

Rafayel straddled his lap.

“There,” he breathed, settling his weight over the hardening shape beneath Sylus’s trousers. “Much better.”

Sylus’s hands came to his hips. “You need the illusion of control?”

“I need you to stop behaving as though desire is something you supervise.”

Rafayel ground down.

The composure beneath him fractured.

A rough exhale escaped Sylus; his fingers dug through the thin fabric at Rafayel’s waist, strong enough to bruise. The response delighted him. He moved again, slower now, feeling the hard length trapped between their bodies.

“Look at you,” he murmured, echoing Sylus’s earlier tone. “All that discipline.”

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.”

He opened Sylus’s waistcoat, then began on the shirt beneath, far less patient than the man had been with him. Buttons came free beneath hurried fingers. One tore loose and vanished somewhere between the cushions.

Sylus glanced down.

Rafayel followed his gaze. “I’ll buy you another.”

“That was custom.”

“So were my shoes.”

“Your shoes remain intact.”

“For now.”

With the shirt spread open, he dragged both hands over Sylus’s chest. Warmth and muscle shifted beneath his palms. A pale scar crossed one side, then another lower down, each mark carrying a story Rafayel had never been given in full.

His mouth softened over the first.

Sylus went still.

The kiss lingered. Less seduction than recognition.

Then Rafayel bit.

A hand caught sharply in his hair.

“Brat.”

He smiled against Sylus’s skin. “There’s the affection.”

Tugging his head back, Sylus exposed his throat. “You’ve been provoking me since you arrived.”

“I’ve been entertaining you.”

“You threw a cushion at my head.”

“It was a weak moment.”

“You put your shoes on my table.”

“You were neglecting me.”

“And now?”

Rafayel rocked his hips against him, mouth parting when friction dragged across his cock through the layers of fabric.

“Still undecided.”

Sylus rose with him.

The sudden movement forced Rafayel to catch his shoulders. A second later, his back met the sofa again, Sylus settling between his thighs with enough weight to steal the next breath.

“Decide quickly.”

The command darkened the air.

Rafayel’s trousers opened beneath practised hands. Button. Zip. The waistband peeled back from his hips, followed by underwear, cool air slipping across heated skin.

Sylus looked down.

The silence became almost unbearable.

Rafayel was already hard, flushed and wet at the tip, desire leaving no room for pretence. He resisted the impulse to cover himself beneath another joke.

“Nothing clever?” he asked instead.

Sylus took him in hand.

Every prepared sentence vanished.

His thumb passed slowly over the sensitive head, spreading the moisture there before gliding down. Rafayel’s hips jerked; a broken laugh caught between his teeth.

“That was clever enough,” Sylus decided.

“Smug bast—”

The grip tightened.

His voice failed.

Sylus stroked him with maddening steadiness, neither hurried nor gentle, learning each reaction as though Rafayel had not already given him this knowledge before. Pressure changed near the base. The next pass twisted slightly beneath the crown. Rafayel’s thighs drew closer around Sylus’s hips.

“Too slow,” he complained.

“You’ve been here less than an hour.”

“I’ve had a difficult day.”

“So I heard.”

“Twenty-two times.”

Sylus’s thumb pressed into the slit.

Pleasure speared through him. Rafayel’s head fell back. “Fuck.”

“Twenty-three.”

The correction arrived against his throat.

He laughed helplessly, the sound breaking when Sylus stroked him again. “If you’re trying to make me forget her, you’ll need to do better.”

Sylus’s hand stopped.

Rafayel opened his eyes.

“That,” Sylus murmured, “was unwise.”

He released Rafayel’s cock.

Before protest could form, Sylus moved lower. His mouth travelled over Rafayel’s chest, pausing to close around one nipple until Rafayel arched beneath him, then continued across the trembling muscles of his stomach.

Realisation came with the warmth of breath against his hip.

Rafayel’s fingers tightened in the cushions. “Sy.”

Sylus looked up.

The sight alone nearly undid him: broad shoulders between Rafayel’s spread thighs, hair fallen slightly out of place, mouth hovering close enough that each exhale ghosted across exposed flesh.

“Still remember her?” Sylus asked.

“I’m making an effort.”

“Poorly.”

His tongue traced the underside of Rafayel’s cock from root to tip.

Rafayel’s body bowed.

A sound tore loose, far too honest to reshape into laughter. Sylus closed his mouth over the head and sucked, slow enough to make every sensation distinct—the heat of his tongue, the pressure of his lips, the hand holding Rafayel steady at the hip.

“Fuck,” Rafayel gasped again. “You arrogant—”

Sylus took him deeper.

Words collapsed.

His fingers found Sylus’s hair, curling there without deciding whether to push him away or drag him closer. The latter instinct won. Sylus allowed the pressure, throat relaxing around him as Rafayel’s hips lifted.

A low groan vibrated through the wet heat.

Rafayel’s vision blurred at the edges.

The man had no right to look so composed while doing something so obscene. Even with his mouth stretched around Rafayel’s cock, Sylus maintained that watchful, infuriating focus, his gaze fixed upwards, reading each tremor.

“Stop looking at me,” Rafayel breathed.

Sylus withdrew with one last pull of suction.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

A lick passed lazily over the tip.

Rafayel’s thighs trembled.

“You’re impossible.”

Another slow stroke of his tongue.

“I hate you.”

Sylus’s mouth curved against him. “Still performing.”

He took Rafayel deep once more.

The pleasure became merciless. Wet sounds filled the room, punctuated by Rafayel’s faltering breaths. Sylus worked him with mouth and hand together, setting a pace that drove him towards the edge, then easing back whenever tension tightened through his body.

Twice.

Three times.

By the fourth, Rafayel’s composure had been stripped to threads.

“Sylus.” His voice emerged hoarse.

The mouth around him slowed.

“Please.”

That earned him another deep pull, followed by Sylus’s tongue pressing firmly along the sensitive underside.

Rafayel cried out.

His hips lifted, chasing the heat, but Sylus drew away before release could reach him. Cool air struck his slick skin.

“No.” Rafayel’s eyes flew open. “Absolutely not.”

Sylus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You said I was too slow.”

“I didn’t ask you to stop.”

“You didn’t ask me to continue.”

Murder became a reasonable response.

Rafayel seized his collar and dragged him upwards. Their mouths crashed together; he tasted himself on Sylus’s tongue, salt and whisky and something indecently intimate. The flavour only sharpened his hunger.

His hand slipped between them.

Sylus’s trousers had become intolerably restrictive. Rafayel opened them without finesse, pushing fabric aside until his fingers closed around hot, rigid flesh.

The breath against his mouth changed.

At last, some justice.

Rafayel stroked him, learning the weight and heat, the velvet drag of skin. Sylus’s forehead lowered against his, composure thinning with each pass of Rafayel’s fist.

“You’re very quiet,” Rafayel whispered.

A hand closed around his wrist, guiding the rhythm harder.

“Does that disappoint you?”

“It makes me curious.”

“Dangerous habit.”

“Let me hear you.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed.

Rafayel twisted his wrist beneath the head.

The response came low and rough, a sound felt through both their bodies.

His smile turned luminous. “There.”

Sylus kissed it away.

Clothes became intolerable after that.

A shirt shoved from one shoulder. Trousers dragged low enough to free movement. Rafayel’s silk lay open beneath him, wrinkled and damp against his skin. Each attempt at elegance dissolved under hands made impatient by hunger.

When Sylus reached towards the table drawer, Rafayel caught his wrist.

“Bedroom?” Sylus asked, breathing hard.

Rafayel looked at the distance between the sofa and the corridor, then at the man above him.

“Too far.”

Amusement flickered. “Impatient.”

“I’ve waited all evening.”

“You arrived forty minutes ago.”

“An eternity.”

The drawer opened. Lubricant appeared in Sylus’s hand.

Rafayel’s pulse quickened at the sight.

Playfulness remained between them, but something steadier had gathered beneath it. Sylus touched his thigh, his gaze holding Rafayel’s.

“Tell me.”

It took no effort to understand.

Rafayel reached down, taking Sylus’s slick fingers and guiding them between his legs.

“Yes.”

The first touch was exploratory, circling, spreading warmth over sensitive skin. Rafayel drew his knees higher, opening himself beneath Sylus’s gaze.

“Still yes?” Sylus asked.

Rafayel pushed back against the pressure. “Unless you intend to interrogate me all night.”

One finger eased inside.

His breath escaped through parted lips.

The stretch came gradually. Sylus gave him time to adjust, moving with a patience that contrasted almost painfully with the hunger in his expression. A second finger joined the first, pressing deeper until Rafayel’s body opened around them.

The teasing answer he had prepared dissolved when Sylus curled his hand.

Pleasure struck hard and bright.

Rafayel’s heel dug into the sofa. “Again.”

Sylus obeyed.

His fingers found the same place with devastating precision, rubbing until sparks climbed Rafayel’s spine. The open shirt shifted beneath his heaving chest; sweat gathered at his temples. No camera would have loved this version of him. His mouth hung open, eyes dark and unfocused, each sound arriving without polish.

Sylus watched as though nothing could be more beautiful.

The realisation hurt.

Rafayel reached for him, fingers closing around the back of his neck. “Come here.”

Their mouths met more gently than before.

Sylus continued working him open through the kiss. A third finger entered, the fuller stretch edged with discomfort, then warmth as Rafayel relaxed around it.

“You’re tense,” Sylus murmured.

“You’re large.”

“And you’re flattering me.”

“I’m complaining.”

“Poorly.”

Rafayel bit his jaw. “Fuck me before I change my mind.”

Sylus stilled.

The hand inside him remained steady, neither retreating nor advancing.

“Will you?”

Rafayel understood the question beneath the question. He softened his grip, stroking his thumb behind Sylus’s ear.

“Yes,” he answered, free of theatre. “I want you.”

A kiss pressed against his brow.

Then the fingers withdrew.

The loss left him aching. Sylus positioned himself between Rafayel’s thighs, one hand beneath his knee, the other guiding his cock against the slick entrance.

The first pressure forced the breath from both of them.

Sylus pushed slowly.

Rafayel’s body resisted, then yielded by increments. The stretch burned through him, each measured advance leaving less space for thought. He clung to Sylus’s shoulders, breath breaking against the side of his neck.

“Easy,” Sylus murmured.

“Don’t patronise me.”

“You’re shaking.”

“You’re still talking.”

That earned him a huff of laughter.

Sylus pressed deeper.

Rafayel’s nails scored his back. “Oh—Oh.”

“Too much?”

“No.” He tightened his legs around Sylus’s waist. “Keep going.”

The final inch seated Sylus fully inside him.

For several breaths, neither moved.

Rafayel felt impossibly full, stretched around the thick heat of him, every nerve awakened by the slightest shift. Sylus’s forehead rested against his. Their mouths hovered close without kissing.

“This,” Rafayel managed, “is a terribly inappropriate use of designer furniture.”

“I’ll have it cleaned.”

“How unromantic.”

“I’ll burn it.”

“Better.”

Sylus withdrew slowly, dragging against every sensitive place, then pushed back inside.

Rafayel’s laughter fractured into a moan.

The next thrust carried more force. Then another. A rhythm built between them, restrained at first, granting his body time to soften around the intrusion. Sylus’s hands held him securely at the hips, controlling the angle, while Rafayel met each movement with a lift of his own.

The sofa complained beneath them.

Somewhere, the abandoned whisky glass tipped against the wood but did not fall.

Rafayel buried his face in Sylus’s throat, breathing him in while pleasure gathered again. Each thrust travelled deeper, driving a rough sound from his chest.

“Harder,” he whispered.

Sylus obliged.

The force pushed Rafayel higher across the cushions. His shirt tangled beneath him; his hair caught at the corner of his mouth. All grace abandoned him. He moaned openly, one hand gripping the sofa while the other dragged along Sylus’s back.

“That,” Rafayel gasped, “is going to bruise.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Sylus made a sound that bordered on a growl.

The next thrust struck the place his fingers had found earlier.

Rafayel arched hard. “There.”

Again.

His vision flashed white.

“There—Sy, right there.”

Sylus adjusted the angle and gave him exactly what he had asked for, each drive of his hips forcing pleasure through Rafayel with brutal accuracy. The room filled with broken sounds, skin against skin, breath catching and releasing.

Rafayel’s cock dragged between their bodies, slick and neglected.

Sylus reached for it.

The moment his fist closed around him, Rafayel cried out.

“Too much?” Sylus asked, though his hand continued moving.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Ask properly.”

Rafayel opened his eyes.

Even now. Even with control slipping from both of them, Sylus held his gaze, asking for the one thing Rafayel found hardest to surrender.

Honesty.

Another thrust drove the answer loose.

“Please,” Rafayel breathed. “Make me come.”

Something fierce moved across Sylus’s face.

He kissed him, one hand stroking Rafayel in time with the movement of his hips. The rhythm turned relentless. Pleasure tightened low and hot, drawing every muscle taut.

Rafayel clung to him.

No room remained for charm. No audience waited beyond the glass. Nothing existed except the body above him, the body inside him, and the unbearable certainty of being seen without costume or light.

“Sylus.”

His name came apart in Rafayel’s mouth.

“Again.”

“Sylus.”

“Look at me.”

Rafayel did.

The climax broke through him.

His back arched from the sofa as pleasure tore along every nerve, violent enough to empty him of thought. He came across Sylus’s hand and his own stomach, each pulse wringing another helpless sound from his throat.

Sylus watched him through it.

Watched the exact moment performance became impossible.

The sight seemed to finish him.

His rhythm faltered. A curse escaped beneath his breath, followed by several deep, uneven thrusts. Sylus pulled out just before release, spilling hot across Rafayel’s hip and stomach, his hand braced against the sofa as tremors moved through his body.

For several seconds, neither man spoke.

Then Sylus lowered himself carefully, avoiding the worst of the mess, and rested his forehead against Rafayel’s shoulder.

Rafayel stared at the ceiling.

The chandelier remained intact. A mild disappointment.

His breathing slowed by degrees. Beneath his palm, Sylus’s heart pounded with gratifying disorder.

“I think,” Rafayel began, voice scraped raw, “we ruined your sofa.”

© 2026, xxsyluslittlecrowxx. dividers by @uzmacchiato

taglist ⋅ @l0st1nthedark ⋅ @valkie-moon ⋅ @ellavelysworld ⋅ @fearlesshades ⋅ @someprettyname ⋅ @msfrostfeathers ⋅ [ADD ME]

[cheriefrosting]

snowcrow this weekend or nah...

[cheriefrosting]

All my work can be found under my tag: જ⁀➴ cherie notes

APPETIZERS: fluff, one-shots, drabbles (sfw)

ENTREES: Longer fics, headcannons (sfw/nsfw)

DESSERT: Shorter fics and drabbles (nsfw)

Love and Deepspace

Zayne Li

Sylus Qin

Caleb Xia

Xavier Shen

Rafayel Qi

Valko Ao

Series / Multiple

switching my positions: Sylus | Zayne | Caleb | Rafayel | Xavier

takes three to tango (snowapple x f. reader)

boxer!sylus x oncalldoctor!zayne (snowcrow)

lads LIs as BL manhwa dynamics

your boyfriends sylus and zayne make up by making out on your pussy

eat my cake and have it too ft. wolfapple (valkocaleb)

Do not duplicate, repost, remake, translate or feed my work into ai. © cheriefrosting on tumblr, all rights reserved.

[cheriefrosting]

Updated masterlist with Valko now huehuehue Put all my effort into their individual masterlists and neglected the masterlist so bad lmfao I can't One day I will fix it but that day is nawt today

[cheriefrosting]

APPETIZER valko is a chalant man

ENTREE valko is the king of bad timing (his confessions right)

DESSERT

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[cheriefrosting]

How it felt writing about ValkoCaleb sandwiching reader in bed before they go to poundtown while I'm single and alone in bed:

Writing about one perfect LI isn't enough, I end up throwing another in the mix???

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | eat my cake and have it too ft. wolfapple

minors dni.

Crushed between two bodies that naturally ran hot with the heat of the comforter trapping you under, you were running too hot to be able to breathe comfortably. As if the temperature wasn't already rivaling the Sun, you're also pressed between two rock hard bodies. Your legs tangled, hands under your night shirt and grabbing handfuls of your ass.

It's suffocating and you can't take another minute longer, trying to wedge yourself out of their hold but they've got you locked down. Attempting to detangle your legs so you can kick the thick comforter off is an action in vain when you're pinned down so tightly that its stifling.

Long day spent playing in the sea had left the three of you exhausted to the point of being unable to take a single step farther than the bed, falling into the mattress in a heap straight out of the shower. Now the sun had set already, and the moonlight was your guiding star as you squinted into the darkness of the room to check the time on the clock.

You managed to free one arm from their iron grip and tap on the cheek nuzzled into your hair behind you before you repeated the same on the exposed cheek that was smushed against your chest.

Caleb stirred, groaning against your tits as he snuggled closer instead of pulling away. Behind you, Valko's arm tightened around you, pulling you closer into his chest. These boys would be the death of you.

"Let me go" You whined, twisting your body so they'd loosen their hold.

Caleb popped an eye open only to press a searing hot kiss to your collarbone before drawing you in again "Go back to sleep, Pips"

"I can't" You push at his arms "It's too hot"

Without opening his eyes, Caleb kicks the thick comforter off you both making you groan in relief when the cool air-conditioning hits your skin, pressing a kiss into his hair as thanks. He takes this opportunity to suck on the mounds of your breasts that are practically spilling out of your tight camisole. Your nails dig into his bicep that rounds your waist and grabs your ass cheek, pulling you tighter against him.

A movement that is slightly restricted thanks to the other arm branded around your waist like a vise, fingers teasing the waistband of your panties as you feel teeth nip at your ear "Having fun without me?"

Over your shoulder, your lips meet Valko's as he kisses you leisurely, tongue swirling with yours, grinding his thick cock against your ass at the same time as Caleb freeing your breasts and sucking on your hardened nipples till they peak. Valko's already got a finger circling your clit before two of them breach past your soaked folds and into your warmth, making you buck into his palm at the intrusion and collide with Caleb's hard length straining inside his boxers. It makes Caleb groan deep in his throat, now also grinding his hard-on against you, the comforter tangling between your legs.

"Mmh" Valko pulls back from your lips with a soft nibble on your lower lip, passing you over to Caleb's waiting mouth who directly sucks your moans into his mouth as you hump Valko's hand, slightly delirious from the feel of both their cocks crowding you. The squelch from your pussy gushing is loud, your broken moans rising in octave as Caleb takes a long pull at your lips, a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he lets you up for air "More more more- please!"

"Yeah?" They chorus, Valko's lips biting down on your ear again as you snake an arm around his nape to hold on while he works you up with two fingers. Caleb's massaging your tits roughly in his big palms, shamelessly grinding against your dripping cunt as you whimper into his mouth. Your other hand fits itself in the middle of your bodies, rubbing over his erection, feeling it twitch beneath your palm as your fingers pull him out of his boxers, wrapping and squeezing him tight in your grip. His groan is feral, thrusting his cock into your fist while biting down on your swollen lips.

Your fingers are moving around Caleb in tandem with Valko's scissoring inside you. He's got you chasing your peak as you grind against his fingers, whines growing louder as your mouth slides over Caleb's, nodding when he coos at you "Close?" with your forehead glistening with sweat as you pant against his throat, dazedly watching his Adam's apple bob with the way your grip unknowingly tightens against his length.

Your release washes over you so suddenly, the shockwaves making your entire body tremble as Valko bites down on your shoulder. He's throwing your leg over Caleb's waist, clearly impatient as he slides your panties to the side, his entire body draped over your back and thrusts into your sensitive pussy in one go. Swallowing your cry into his mouth while Caleb kisses his way down your neck, carefully drawing out every thrust as opposed to Valko who looks like he's about to shoot his load into you then and there.

"Feels s'good" He's slurring, brows scrunched as his fingers still coated with your slick find Caleb's mouth who takes them between his lips.He's moaning around the digits, licking every inch of the skin clean, his tongue swirling between the v of the fingers and around their length "How's she taste?"

"Divine" Caleb groans out, grabbing the back of Valko's head and smashing their lips together, their bodies rumbling with appreciative growls as they exchange your taste between them "Fill her up-" His entire body bucks as Valko's hands tease the underside of Caleb's leaking cock, hand wrapping around yours and helping you pump up and down his length "-fuck- fill her up so full so I can taste- hah" He's whimpering against Valko's mouth "- taste you both off her after this"

Valko's cock grows harder at that, making your toes curl as he pounds into your sopping cunt with renewed force, trapping you between their writhing bodies, moving together in a dizzying pace as you worked each other up towards that pleasure. Your lips collide in a mess with theirs, groaning and panting and locking mouths, taking turns exchanging saliva, sweaty bodies sliding against one another.

One hand gripping the locks of Valko's hair behind you while the other was wrapped around Caleb's neck, keeping him close as you and Valko doubled down on your onslaught, your thumb pressing down on the tip as Valko pumped his length in rough, drawn-out strokes making Caleb bury his face against yours, sucking on your lips as he thrust into Valko's grip now.

Other hand snaking under your hips, Valko's rubbing your clit as you whimper against Caleb's lips, strangled mewls escaping you with how rough Caleb manhandles your tits, slapping one before palming it tightly again. Your body is convulsing, eyelids fluttering as you tremble in their grip.

"Fuck fuck fuck-" Valko's sunk his teeth into every inch of skin exposed to him "Gripping me so tight, baby" He's rutting into you despite the tightening of your walls, growling at how good every snap of his hips against yours feels.

"S'good" You're purring, chasing Caleb's lips that are also swollen till he's closing the space between you two.

"He's fucking you so good, isn't he?" There is something so satisfying about hearing Caleb whisper sweet nothings to you as you lose yourself into the kiss, nodding your agreement while Valko slams into your pussy so hard it has you seeing stars behind your eyelids "Yeah he is" You feel Caleb's cock leaking more pre as he thrusts into your grip "You're going to be good for us? Gon' cum for us, pretty baby?"

"Mhm" Valko's curved tip brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly has rendered you unable to spell a single legible word out as Caleb brushes your hair back, connecting your foreheads. Hand falling to your waist, he's pushing you down as Valko thrusts upwards into you, your orgasm crashing into you as your grip falters around Caleb, limbs twitching as your body quivers in the aftermath of that mind-blowing climax.

Valko keeps up his erratic pace, fucking you through your orgasm as he chases his high, pumping his hand up and down Caleb's length at a dizzying pace. Their breaths are ragged as they both thrust against you in unison, locking lips over your shoulder as they confine you between them till they're cumming, thick spurts of their release lining your pussy walls and belly at the same time, groaning at the power with which they succumbed to their pleasure.

For long moments, the three of you lie there in a heap of tangled, sticky bodies covered in sweat, leisurely making out as you finally get the opportunity to turn on your back when Valko pulls out of you, eliciting a whimper. Both your boyfriends descend on you, one's figurative and the other's literal tail swishing as you run your hands through their hair.

You try to push them off you "We're going to be late for dinner"

Their faces have the same wolfish grin as they help you out of your drenched panties and tug your camisole off as you gape at them "Dinner can wait, Pips" Caleb's spreading your thighs apart, appreciative groan spilling from his lips as he watches Valko's cum dribbling out of your pussy "I can't"

"Cal-! Oh" His tongue licks a long, languid stripe up your folds, making you fall back into the pillows before you turn your pout at your other boyfriend, hoping he's more compliant "Val. I'm hungry"

Valko's solution is to kiss your pout off your lips "I know, sweetheart" But he's not making any move to dissuade Caleb who is moaning against your pussy lips, blowing air on it just to watch it flutter "Dinner after this, promise"

"After?" You're about to turn your glare on full force but you catch sight of Valko pumping his semi hard-on, amber orbs zeroed in on the way Caleb has his entire face buried into your cunt. Watch the way his eyes light up when you spread your legs further apart.

Fingers finding his face, you guide him closer to where Caleb was greedily lapping up your juices, knowing he was a heartbeat away from joining his boyfriend anyway.

"Dessert first?"

[cheriefrosting]

Watching the cdrama "Love for you" made it so much more clearer that it's the exact relationship calebmc had growing up where they could only rely on each other.

The whole brother-sister thing was blown so out of proportion that he got so much hate plus incest allegations is still insane to me when calling a man older to you in age 'brother' is completely normal in all asian countries😭

I wanna write such a dynamic for him but I can only think of nasty scenarios😔 Call me Valko the way I turn into a wolf every ovulation week

[cheriefrosting]

hiiii do you have an ao3? <33 your writing is sososo good, way too good for tumblr i'd love it if you would consider making one

NONNIEEEEEEE OHMYGOD THIS WAS THE SWEETEST THING EVER😭🩷😭 I have the best readers on God<3

I have an ao3 account but I never figured out how to use it, I'm kind of a boomer in that aspect💔 I will definitely consider it now!🩷

[snoozer-crow]

If you have the habit of picking at your skin, Valko won't have it. He'll give you a couple warnings once he notices the behavior, his ear twitching whenever he hears the slight sound of you tugging at your skin.

Valko stalks over to where you're seated at your desk, taking your hand in his and prying it away from your skin. "Aht. Hey. Stop that, alright? You gotta let it heal."

If he spots it once, he'll be on the lookout, so good luck hiding anything from him. And if he catches the scent of blood, he'll be on your case immediately.

His solution? He steals one of your hands. Good luck picking your skin as a fidget with only one hand to handle your primary task! He doesn't mind intertwining your fingers with his own for hours at a time, and there's no escaping his ironclad grip.

Mindlessly, your hand finds a scab on your neck, and you start to peel it out of habit. You startle as you suddenly hear footsteps approaching your office, and a few seconds later, there he is. He approaches you like a wolf on the prowl, raising an eyebrow when you meet his gaze. "Alright, pup. I gave you enough chances. Now, it's time for consequences." Your chest feels tight. Is he frustrated with you for not trying hard enough? "I-I wasn't thinking, Val, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I-" "Hey." He cups your cheeks, staring deep into your eyes and making sure you're listening. "I'm not mad, okay? No apologizing. I didn't mean to spook you." He flashes you a grin, then takes one of your hands in his, waving it in the air. "I'm just taking this hostage for a while."

Eventually, he'll start idly stroking your hand, his big thumb running back and forth across the veins on the back. He'll also hold your hand in both of his, playing with your smaller fingers, or gently trail his fingernails up and down your forearm to make you shiver, holding your wrist in place with his other hand.

And if that still doesn't work, and you have the gall to start doing it again while he's right there? Well, clearly you need to learn your lesson! He wraps his arms around both of yours and cuddles up beside you, keeping you immobilized in his embrace and refusing to let go. If you won't use your hands responsibly, then you don't deserve to use them at all! (He knows you're more likely to indulge in the habit while stressed, so he decides to extract you from the stressful situation altogether. If there's one thing he's good at, it's bringing up your mood!)

"Valko-" Your protest is cut off as he wraps his huge arms around you and squeezes you tight, rolling over to trap you on top of his chest. You squirm, trying to free your arms, but it's as if you're trying to move a brick wall. He kisses up your neck, and you giggle, feeling his smile press against your skin. "You're staying here until I decide you've learned your lesson. You're trapped." He nips your neck playfully, and you try to wriggle free again, just for fun. "But-" He turns on his side, nestling you between his chest and the back of the couch, allowing you to turn and face him. You're enveloped in his warmth, and you let yourself relax, no longer caring so much about your trapped arms as you look up at him. His breath grazes your forehead as he speaks, his voice soft. "No buts. I said I'd help you stop, and a wolf keeps his word." He kisses once, twice, three times to your temple, and a fourth to the tip of your nose. He chuckles when you smile up at him, and guides your head into the crook of his neck. "And this wolf is feeling preeetty tired. I think it's time for a nap." No matter how much you kick or whine, he won't budge. With a huff, you go limp, letting yourself give in to his warmth, and your eyes slowly droop closed. You think you hear a quiet rumble of satisfaction from his chest, but when you open an eye to check, it seems he's fast asleep. Must have been your imagination.

He can be a heavy sleeper when he wants to be, so there's no chance of getting him to let you go if he decides to take a nap. I bet he snores just a little bit, too....

[cheriefrosting]

HIII! I hope your requests are open. I have been really wanting someone to write what it may look like for the LADs guys to reunite with the reader. Like...they thought she was dead, or they have been searching for her and she's been evading them. The whole "shout, scream, say something!" "You're as beautiful as the day i lost you" thing >:3

I'm curious how it would look because I know they would be able to hunt her down if they knew she was still out there... ive always loved the thing of someone trying to get away because they think its what's best and then their loved one is searching for them to bring them back home

THANKS FOR YOUR TIME :D

OMG I LOVEEEEEEEE ANGST LIKE THAT. Second chance, reuniting or even unrequited love is so peak???

I'll try and do one for all the Lls if I can but I'm already writing a full fledged fic on a similar line for Sylus as well<3

[cheriefrosting]

Wanna write an arrange marriage fic so bad for him💔

[cheriefrosting]

⁀➴☕︎ | Valko is the king of bad timing (his confessions right)

minors dni.

It is no surprise that you are more coherent than Valko during sex.

For a man who could command an entire boardroom without breaking a sweat all the while making his shareholders comply to his whims, it was gratifying to see him be reduced to this whimpering mess.

It didn't matter if he was above you, thrusting into you so hard that the bed frame rattled, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud as he buried himself in so deep you could feel him in your throat. With just the right stimulation and the slightest tightening of your walls around his length, he would lose his composure, groaning into your shoulder, his cock pumping against you in a frenzied rhythm.

He would never make you beg. Pleasing you was his first priority. In every possible way. Even if it meant subjecting himself to your sweet, little torture.

Even in the delirious state he was in, with every muscle and bone in his body protesting, if you quietly told him to stop, all movements would cease. His entire body thrumming with tension, shaking above you as you finally catch a breath, wrapping a leg around his waist, your heel digging into his ass and pushing him deeper. Your moan is eclipsed by his groan, by the effort it is taking him to listen to you.

"Who's my good boy, hm?" Fingers tugging at his hair, you'd pull his head back as a whimper lodges in the back of his throat while you kiss your way down the side of his neck, his rock-hard cock throbbing inside your pussy.

He wouldn't make you beg. You would.

You've been edging him for what seems like hours now, you've cum twice in the process and everytime you've made him stop. Forced him to feel every contraction of your walls, feel the way they sucked him in as he hovered above you, whining into your skin in desperation.

Right now, he can't even find his voice to answer you as you pepper kisses on his skin, sucking your mark under his ear where he was most sensitive, overstimulated to the point of no return as his eyes roll to the back of his head. His cock is twitching, the thick vein running on the underside dragging against your gummy walls.

"Go ahead" You whisper, feeling the hair on his skin rise, his ears perking up at the husky command, getting ready to please you in whichever way you demanded of him "Say the magic words"

"I love you"

Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, his tail that had been wildly swishing behind him ever since you told him to stop suddenly goes limp at your reaction and his realization at the words that spilled past his lips. His eyes are wide like he can't believe he said it to you, here, dropping the bomb out of nowhere in the worst possible situation.

He goes to sit up, hands letting go of you only to flail about as he tries to explain his way out of it. This is not how he intended to confess his feelings. You deserved better. You deserved a proper confession after a proper date with flowers and gifts and-

Your arms lock around his neck before he can pull away from you completely, hauling his face down to yours till your noses brush against each other.

"Say it again" Your voice is a whisper, afraid any higher octave might shatter the spell.

"I love you" He repeats, no hesitation in his voice as his hands find their way back on your skin.

"You love me?" Your voice is disbelieving, laughter filled with self-pity escaping you "You" The word is emphasized "-love me?"

Wrapping his arms around your back, Valko lifts you into his arms and into his embrace, face finding its home in the crook of your neck to press a reassuring kiss to your skin "Yes. For the longest time" He pulls back to look at you, to show you his sincerity "I have been hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. God, I'm crazy about you"

"Val" You warn under your breath "Don't mess with me"

"I'm not-"

"Because I love you too"

Valko's restraint snaps, slamming into you so deep that your back arches, hips bucking up against his pulsating length as his release crashes over him and he takes you down with him. Thighs trembling, you feel thick spurts of his cum lining your walls till he's gushing out of your sensitive folds.

His entire body has you trapped beneath him, robbing you of air as he hides his face into the sheets, over your shoulder, his neck and ears red from embarrassment. It's only when you start giggling does he pull back, pouting at you.

"I love you, you silly doofus" You tell him, kissing his nose.

"I don't think you should be allowed to say that in bed" His face is burning, tail swishing behind him in elation.

"And you can?"

"Well" He's nuzzling against you again, entire body rubbing against yours "You're obviously better at handling it"

Only because he isn't. You had him wrapped around your finger and loved every second of it.

Years down the line, nothing changes. He's still just as eager to get you in bed even if he knows you're not going to make it easy for him.

"Are you gonna be good for me?" You're on his lap, cooing at him as he fights his natural instincts to take over and fuck you into next week while you grind your pussy down on him.

Whimpers escape him, conceding to you as you bite down on his nipple "Use your words, baby"

"Yes, yes. I will be so good" Fingers digging into your waist, he's resisting the urge to bounce you on his cock with the way you're dragging this out. He's going to try and use underhanded tricks to make you surrender first any second now.

When he sets his sights on you head on, you know it's coming "I love you" His hands are spanning the expanse of your back, waist and ass, digging into each cheek to prompt you to move, bounce, grind- do something, anything "Baby, please-"

"Always?" You circle your hips around his length, your pelvis grinding into him before you rise till he's almost completely out.

You're waiting on him to say the magic words that you so love, knowing he's about concede the way his half-lidded eyes flutter and his body goes taut, strung tight like a bow waiting to snap as his voice cracks when he pleads with you.

"Fuck yes- God, please. I bought a ring last week and booked a venue and I'll always, always be good to you so please just-" When you slam back down on him, his breath catches, voice barely carrying over to you "-give me a chance to make you the happiest girl in the world"

And that's how you find out your silly wolf of a boyfriend was going to propose.