No One Will Know Which One It Is.

Imagine this but with Zayne.

late night rafayel thoughts

if you are someone who likes tattoos, rafayel would insist on designing them for you. the idea of his art permanently etched onto your skin, tying you both together, would drive him feral. but the thought of another artist getting the honour of inking you, and touching you is enough to sour his mood, he would definitely be sitting in on your session scrutinizing every move of the tattooist, his eyes darkening with irritation every time the artist's touch lingers a second longer than it has to. if he had it his way, he would be the one holding the needle, marking you himself (which he would be doing in a different way later that night).

hes so husband

i'd like to offer to you the idea of zayne who stays in the bathroom to wash his hands a little longer than what's usual inside the confinement of one's home, the habit of scrubbing in staying with him even outside the walls of the hospital. one day after you two return home from an outing, you've long patted your hands dry, but he's still standing in front of the sink. thick foam of soap covering his dextrous fingers, spreading all the way up his forearms, ending slightly below his elbows. his moves are thorough and practiced. scrub the nails in a back-and-forth motion approximately 30 times. 10 strokes across the surface of the palm. divide your forearm into thirds, scrub each third 10 times. once you scrub an area do not go back, he recounts internally, the words of instruction replaying in his mind with enough familiarity that he doesn't really notice them anymore, nor the way that his hands are following them, even though the sink in front of him belongs to your bathroom, not to the hospital.

the fact that he never noticed this habit before only occurs to him when you mention it, leaning against the doorway, watching him as patiently as he washed his hands. "your hand soap certainly smells more pleasant than chlorhexidine," zayne notes in response as he passes by you on his way out, pressing an amused kiss to the crown of your head.

I want to braid Caleb's pubes🥰

yum yum yum

SERVE!

caleb [夏以昼] + female reader + zayne [黎深]

synopsis. who were the cute boys watching your tennis match today? you planned to find out.

genre. 18+! MDNI! tennis player!zayne, tennis player!caleb, tennis player!reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (giving), cumshot, unprotected p in v, nipple play, soft dom!caleb, soft sub!zayne, nasty 3some, pull out, slapping, fingering, slight dirty talk, a lil mxm if you squint, what else to say… wc; 4.5k+

author's note. this came from me listening to the challengers soundtrack… i have no excuse i just wanted to write a smutty zayne and caleb fic (even though this just kept getting longer the more i revised) … enjoy <3

“Holy shit.”

The two men had been sitting on the bleachers for almost two hours, completely enthralled by the girl who was on the tennis court. They really had only intended to pass by after training, maybe stay for a few plays.

It was hard to ignore the whispers throughout the Linkon Tennis Club, of a girl who was only on a path to surpass everyone here. Of course, they had been curious to see who she was, maybe skeptical of all the talk surrounding her. But nothing compared to watching her up close.

She was unrelenting, hard-hitting and implacable.

Even as her opponent continued to fall far behind in points, she showed no signs of backing down. It was only until the last set that she let their serve fall on her side, not even attempting to hit the ball with her racket. As if she wanted to taunt him. 

It’s only then that they take note of the man stomping off the court, someone who up until now, had been considered undefeated in their club.

Caleb swears he sees a smirk appear on her face as she walks off the court.

“That was…” Zayne starts, but it seems he’s unable to find the words to describe what he’s feeling right now.

“Fucking hot.” Caleb finishes, eyes still locked onto the girl as she uses a towel to wipe her glistening skin.

Zayne clears his throat, standing up suddenly as if snapping out of a trance. Up until then, he had been aware of the setting sun. “We need to go.” 

Caleb doesn’t notice he’s walking down the bleachers until the girl is out of sight. He grabs his bag, almost stumbling down the steps as he catches up to Zayne.

He whistles lowly.

“You ever see anyone play like that?” Caleb brings his hand under his chin, unable to shake the image of her on the court. Or, unable to shake the image of her completely. He wanted to know more about her. No, needed.

“No.” It was true. Zayne found himself adjusting his shirt collar nervously. Suddenly the heat of the sun was heavy on his skin. He wouldn’t admit that watching her play like that was enough to have an effect on him.

“You think she’s coming to the party tonight?” Caleb ponders out loud, more to himself. He finds himself hoping to catch sight of her again as they exit the court and enter the parking lot, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Why does it matter?” Zayne responds, tossing his bag onto the top of his car's hood, searching for his keys.

Caleb leans onto the hood, hands coming up under his chin as he eyes Zayne. “Maybe because that was one of the best matches I’ve ever seen, and it wasn’t even a serious one. You’re not just a little curious to see what she’s like?”

Zayne fishes his keys out, pointing his gaze at Caleb’s puppy eyes. “Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that you find her attractive?”

“Do you not?” Caleb takes note of the way Zayne avoids his question.

Zayne looks away, unlocking his car door and throwing his bag to the backseat.

“At least I'm not afraid to admit when I like a woman…” Caleb mumbles, hoping it's low enough that Zayne doesn't hear.

He does.

And he locks the car just as Caleb tries to open the passenger door.

He bangs his hand against the window, and Zayne can’t deny he finds his pouting a bit amusing. 

“Zayne!”

He plasters his face against the window. “Open the door?” 

Zayne pretends to not hear him, turning the car’s ignition on.

“Please?”

The doors unlock, a shit eating grin spreading onto Caleb’s face.

“Someone can’t get enough of you.”

Your friend Tara is giggling as she hands you a towel. You take it, wiping your face but not before rolling your eyes.

You knew exactly who she was talking about. It wasn’t unusual for you to gain a bit of an audience when you played, even if it was just a match for fun like this one. But those two had showed up early and stayed throughout the whole thing.

Watching you. And only you.

It was hard to ignore the way their eyes watched your every move.

“They’re not exactly trying to hide it,” you quip, a bit harsh. But maybe you didn’t want to admit the effect the two very attractive men had on you.

Tara seems to see right through you, a coy smile on her face as she throws you a water bottle.

You chug it, ignoring her as you gather your things, tossing your bag over your shoulder. She walks alongside you as you exit the court.

“You know, they’ll probably be at the party tonight.” she sing-songs, skipping to catch up to your brisk pace. You were desperate for a cold shower and your bed.

“Good for them,” she rolls her eyes at your feigned nonchalance. You use both of your hands to scour your bag, scowling when you come up empty handed.

Tara clears her throat and you look up, narrowing your eyes at her. She dangles your keys in front of you, the tiny tennis racquet clinking.

As you reach out to take them, she pulls back. “Tell me you’re going tonight…”

“I can’t. I have practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes at the weak excuse. She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’.

“I vividly recall you promising me this would be your one night out.” 

You do remember. A promise that came from being tired from practice and Tara continuously pestering you about it. You’d argue it was more like she forced you until you said yes.

Tara twirls the keys around her finger, “I’ll stand here all day…”

Despite her playful tone, you knew better than anyone she would definitely stay here until you said yes. Your mind drifts back to the two boys sitting at the bleachers, the way you might have intentionally played up your skills. The way you felt your body heat rise, not just from your running back and forth.

This was not the first time you had seen them around. A glance of them on the courts, in the dining hall, at tournaments. The two were joined at the hip. It seemed as though they were always together. Practicing together, walking together, hell, they probably slept together.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a tiny bit curious to know more about them.

With a resigned sigh, “Fine,” you say, and her face looks as if she was just handed a brand new puppy. “But I'm taking clothes out of your closet.”

She throws you the keys, already on a tangent about what alcohol to pregame with. But as you enter your car and drive off, there’s only one thought on your mind.

You would make it your mission to get to know them tonight.

To no one’s surprise, Caleb is able to drag Zayne out to the party. He hated coming to any type of social gathering, but maybe the possibility of catching a glimpse of you was enough to get him out the door this time.

Zayne is embarrassed to admit how many times he changed his shirt.

They’re leaning against one the tables, beers in hand as they lazily watch the partygoers. The night was warm, a dampness kissing their skin. As entertaining as watching their drunk tennis club fall onto the grass was, they were really only here for one reason.

You.

However, as the night sky continued to darken, their hopes of seeing you began to diminish with the setting sun.

One beer turns into two, three, four, until their table is littered with empty bottles. Their faces were flushed, and the stars seemed a bit brighter now. Caleb has a permanent pout on his face, gaze on the beer cap he was flipping in between his fingers.

It was unlike him to be so affected by anyone, much less a stranger. He was a bit of a playboy back in the early days of his tennis career, a womanizer as Zayne would call him. Though it was far behind him, now, it was a bit humiliating for him to be so bent over a girl.

Zayne, on the other hand, stayed back for the most part. Not that he didn’t have many opportunities, trust that he had many. But Zayne was never one for no strings attached hookups. A hopeless romantic, Caleb would say to tease him. Though, he had no shame in his beliefs around love.

It was no wonder why he was so infatuated by you.

There’s an eruption of cheers from where people have made a makeshift dance floor, and Caleb lazily turns. His head shoots up, body turning at whiplash speed, causing a few bottles to fall to the ground.

“Hey—!”

Zayne furrows his brows, looking at Caleb for an explanation to his sudden movements. His eyes are wide, unblinking as if he’s afraid to miss whatever he’s watching.

He follows his gaze, and it lands on you.

In the middle of the crowd, there you are, dancing without a care in the world.

They stare dumbfoundedly at your figure, clad in a mini skirt and strappy top. You turn towards them, undoubtedly staring at both of them. Your eyes dart between them, an inviting smile on your face. Maybe the alcohol was making them hallucinate.

Zayne flushes, looking to the side and clearing his throat.

Without a second to think, Caleb is standing up and walking towards you.

“Caleb!” but it’s futile. All Zayne can do is standby and watch as Caleb works his infuriating charm on you, hands coming to sit on your waist with ease.

He hates to admit it, but somewhere in his heart he feels a twinge of envy.

The party is in full swing when you arrive. 

You're surprised to see how crowded it is, almost everyone from the tennis club was here and then some. Almost as soon as you arrive, Tara pulls you to the dance floor (that was more just a patch of shorter grass closer to the music). 

You can’t help the way your eyes scan the room, searching for those two inseparable figures. 

As you let the alcohol flow through your veins, dancing to the music, you find exactly who you’re looking for. 

Sitting perfectly in your line of sight, is the brown haired boy who couldn't keep his eyes off of you earlier. Even now, he’s staring straight at you, and you don't even try to hide the shiver it sends down your spine.

Next to him is his inseparable half, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyes say everything you can’t. An invitation. 

A fishing line thrown into the water.

The brown haired man is up before you can process, making a beeline for you.

“Hey,” he says, unabashedly checking you out with his iris colored eyes. You tilt your head, smiling. 

“I’m Caleb.”

“Hi, Caleb.”

The fish bites, you pull back.

You hold out your hand as an offer. An offer for what, you weren’t so sure yourself.

But he takes it, with almost no hesitation.

You guide his hand to your waist, letting him take control. He sways with you, following the beat of the music effortlessly. When he asks for your name, you tell him with a bite of your lip.

It was unlike you to be so forward, but there was no refusing it now.

You wanted him tonight, badly.

“I saw you playing today,” he leans down to say it, eyes hovering over your ear. The feeling makes you hot, not just from the lingering heat of the night.

“I know,” you breathe “I saw you, too.”

Caleb smirks, eyes lighting with a fire. “You’re amazing.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes. While you (usually) were not one to brag, it was something you were used to hearing. Hearing him say it, though, had a different type of effect on you.

You turn around, grinding against him as the music becomes more sensual. His hands grip your waist, and you swear you hear a low grunt. This was definitely having as much affect as it was on you. Your arms come around his neck.

“Who’s your friend?” You can’t help but ask as you eye the almost sulking man who was still at the table.

You see the way he’s eyeing you, a type of intensity you couldn’t describe. 

Tall, dark hair, chiseled features, and carrying an air of aloofness.

God, he was sexy too.

“Zayne?” he questions, a bit strained but you choose to ignore it. The man rocking his hips behind you, the one in front practically eye-fucking you, it was too much to handle.

Zayne and Caleb.

Was it crazy to want them both?

You twirl to face Caleb, not surprised to see his eyes have darkened into a deep hue of purple. It only encourages you further. “Why don’t we go back to your place?”

It’s bold, you’re well aware. It makes his eyes widen for a second, before a smug smirk appears on his face.

“Your friend’s invited too.”

Zayne and Caleb are very still. 

With bated breath, afraid to make any sudden movements.

The walk to their apartment was a blur, filled with gentle caresses and prying eyes. Caleb was almost seeing stars from the anticipation of getting to have you so close. Though, they were both unsure of what to expect, even through their beer-induced haze.

Sitting across from you, in their shared apartment, they were feeling completely sober now. 

They watch you carefully as your hand comes down to the beer bottle in the middle, using your fingers to spin it. Yeah, it might have been a juvenile game, but you seemed to have something up your sleeve when you suggested it.

And who were they to deny the girl that had them wrapped around her fingers?

Their eyes are glued to the spinning bottle as it slows down, landing…

Right in between Zayne and Caleb.

Their heads whip up to face you, and there’s a sly smile growing onto your face. You stand from the floor, walking to the couch behind you.

You plant yourself in the middle, leaning back on the palms of your hands.

“Come here,” you beckon with a jerk of your head.

Their eyes go wide, and Caleb glances at Zayne, whose face is impossibly red.

“Which one—?” Zayne starts, but Caleb is scrambling off the floor to sit next to you. As if a switch is flipped, he stumbles to follow, sitting on your left.

The air is still, the music that had been playing from somewhere in the room fading into the background. You lean your head back, biting your lip as your eyes dart between them both.

“Kiss me.”

The universe was surely on your side tonight. 

That was the only explanation for the position you were in.

You’re sandwiched by both men, and your biggest problem right now is choosing who to look at.

Two gorgeous, panty-dropping men, in the palm of your hands.

Two men who were staring at you like they wanted to devour you whole.

Caleb bites first, hand coming up to hold your face. His grip is firm, unwilling to let your gaze wander elsewhere. “Are you sure about this, baby?”

The pet name comes out too easily, but it makes you lean into him. You stare into his eyes, unyielding.

“Yes.”

“Both… of us?” Zayne asks, voice low.

“Yes.”

It’s firm. 

And it's all Caleb needs to crash his lips into yours. Behind you, Zayne’s hands wander up your thighs, slipping under your skirt as he attacks your neck, leaving a trail of saliva as he sloppily sucks on your skin.

You moan softly, and the sound makes Caleb's grip on your jaw tighten. He’s shoving his tongue down your throat, uncaring of the way you struggle to breathe.

He relents, letting go of your face. You turn to Zayne, whose face is flushed a sweet pink. He looks completely undone, and you haven’t even touched him. You work to unbutton his shirt, trailing kisses on his deliciously taut chest. As soon as it's off, you trail up his jaw until your tongue is slipping past his lips.

He kisses slowly, gentle with intention. Zayne lets you take the lead, and your nails trail over his exposed biceps. Tiny crescent moons bloom as your nails dig into his skin. He deepens the kiss.

There’s a smack on your ass, and you pull away to face Caleb once again.

“C’mere,” it's a demand. You crawl onto his lap facing away from the couch, back pressed tightly against his clothes chest. Zayne stands, moving to position himself in front of you. From here, you have a perfect view of the prominent erection growing under his shorts.

Caleb pulls your top off in one swift motion and you gasp as your nipples hit the air. His fingers brush over them, teasing and pulling before they trail down. Your skirt is pushed up past your hips, pink lace panties on full display for both of them.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans as his fingers hover over your clothed pussy. “I can feel how wet you are already. I’ve barely even touched you.”

You whine, throwing your head back onto his shoulders. Zayne is watching you through heavy lidded eyes, palming his cock. As sexy as he looked like this, you wanted to put your hands all over him.

“Let me help you,” you stare up at him through your lashes. 

Zayne walks closer, watching your fingers make work of his waistband. You almost gasp when you pull his cock out, flushed a bright red and dripping at the tip. It was big, to say the least. You wondered how much of it could fit in your mouth.

Caleb’s slender fingers slip into your slick folds and you whine, hand faltering on Zayne’s length. It earns you a slap on your thigh.

“Don’t leave him waiting, baby,” his voice is low, and you'd give anything to be able to see his face right now. “Show him what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

His words are enough to bring your mouth to Zayne’s tip. You slip him into your mouth, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. He throws his head back, groaning as his hand comes up to grip the back of your head.

He wasn’t even in all the way.

Your skin is hot to the touch, cunt dripping as Caleb continues to work you expertly. Moaning around his cock, you can’t keep your eyes off Zayne’s face twisted in pleasure. It was obvious he was attempting to hold back his noises, lips held tightly under his teeth. 

It only makes you want to hear him more, so you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his length. With every stroke, his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“Oh, fuck,” Zayne groans as he brings his other hand to your head, hips sloppily thrusting against your mouth. His whimpers are like angels singing. Spit is dripping out of your mouth, your eyes are welling with tears, but you don’t care. How could you deny him such pleasure?

Caleb slips another finger in you, stretching your pussy with every hit against your walls. You moan as his other hand comes to pinch your nipple. 

“Mm, baby,” you grind into his hand, feeling his hard cock against your ass. His breath is heavy against your ear. His fingers seem to know exactly what spots to hit, your unending moans muffled around Zayne's length.

“You feel so good around me.” Your sounds get higher, walls squelching against Caleb’s fingers. That familiar feeling starts to pool at your belly, and he knows you're close.

“You gonna cum for me?” His voice is gruff, laced with desire as he works to push you over the edge. The coil tightens, but you make sure to keep Zayne’s cock in your mouth. 

“Mmmph!” you whine as you feel your liquid fight against Caleb’s fingers, soaking them completely. His eyes are blown wide as he watches your fluids shoot out of your pulsing hole.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers softly, taking his glistening fingers out and bringing them to his face. He can’t help himself, putting them into his mouth. Your taste almost makes him combust right then and there.

“Alright,” he says, looking at Zayne’s disheveled appearance with a smug smirk. “Let me have a turn, baby.”

With a pop! Zayne slips out of your mouth. Caleb stands, pulling you with him. He twirls you to face him now. His hand comes to your ass, slapping it hard enough to leave a mark. You moan, chasing his lips.

He lets you catch him, a gentle kiss compared to the way he just defiled your pussy.

“Bend over,” he says, and you do.

Zayne’s hands come to your waist, holding you in place. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation as you watch Caleb get rid of the clothing covering his hard cock.

And of course, he’s big.

Big and thick.

Enough to stretch your mouth completely.

Caleb slaps his cock against your cheek as he looks at Zayne.

“Why don’t you stretch her out a little more for me?”

The grin on his face says it all as he watches Zayne align himself with your wet cunt. You sigh, feeling his tip gliding against your lips before he slowly opens you wide. The fit is incredibly tight, and you can feel every single inch of his length as he slowly slides in.

Zayne is putty in your hands. The way you’re tightening around him is almost enough to drive him over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips.

Caleb brings his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up. He glides his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs softly, bringing his tip to your lips.

“Go on, baby.”

That’s enough for the both of you.

Zayne brings his hips back, tip just at the entrance before he slams back into you.

You take Caleb into your salivating mouth, until your nose almost hits his skin. With every thrust against your walls, you slide your mouth up and down Caleb’s throbbing cock.

Your moans mix together sweetly, breaths mingling with the hot bedroom air. They’re unrelenting against your gaping holes, and you can feel the sweat dripping from their bodies onto you. A sheen layer of sweat covers them, almost glowing under the low light.

You’re a mess, moaning around Caleb’s cock as he uses your mouth to pleasure himself. 

Zayne’s head is spinning, drunk off the way your pussy felt around him. His hand comes up to pull your hair back, admiring the way your back arches. Every bounce of your ass against him got him closer and closer to the edge.

God, he was insatiable. 

Caleb was no better, unable to keep his eyes off your pretty face. Cheeks hollow, taking him so fucking well. He couldn’t believe how he had you. He was desperate to carve every line and curve of your figure into his mind, afraid that if he blinks you’ll disappear.

He hoped when morning came he’d still be able to see you.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb moans, “I’m so fucking close.”

He looks over to Zayne, taking in the pink hue that trailed from his cheeks to his ears. His brows were furrowed, tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth.

Yeah, he was definitely close, too.

“Can I cum on that pretty face, baby?” you moan, trying to nod your head against his merciless throat-fucking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” is all you can muster.

Zayne’s hip thrusts were getting sloppier, and you tightened around him, wanting to make sure he came too.

Something about being completely covered in their seed made you lose all sense of self.

Caleb grunts as he pulls out of your mouth, spurts of cum shooting onto your face, dripping down your cheek. You stick your tongue out, hoping to catch some to taste.

Zayne follows soon after, pulling out of you to cum on your back. It’s warm, endless globs of his cum enveloping your back, falling down your waist. He pumps his cock gently, making sure to leave every last drop to you.

He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on the small of your back.

Their chests are still rapidly rising and descending as they try to catch their breath. In the post orgasm clarity, you can’t help but laugh at your situation.

Never did you think you would have ended up here tonight.

Though, you definitely weren’t complaining.

Caleb falls onto the couch, gaze still on you as he chuckles breathlessly. A mixture of disbelief and incredulousness on his face.

“Stay there,” You hear Zayne move behind you, walking into the bathroom and turning the faucet on. He comes back, gently holding you as he brings a wet towel to your skin. You gasp softly at the sudden contact, but you let him wipe your back down.

The gesture almost makes your heart swell.

Caleb looks at you with indiscernible emotions swimming in his eyes. He takes the towel from Zayne, wiping at your face with the most sedulous care. It’s so sweet, the way they handle you. You’d never think they’d be capable of all the sinful things you just witnessed.

Trying to ignore the way your face heats up as Caleb holds your face, you look away from his soft puppy eyes.

You stand up straight, slipping your skirt and ruined panties. With a flirtatious smile, you start walking to the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Feel free to join me.”

Caleb and Zayne look at each other before scrambling to follow behind.

You awake to two pairs of arms enveloping you, the first signs of dawn peeking through the window. It takes all your energy to quietly slip out of their grip. The two men are too deep in their dreams to notice as you collect your scattered clothes.

You sigh as you hold the skirt Tara let you borrow in front of you. It was ruined completely. She was definitely going to kill you. And maybe congratulate you after she hears of your night.

Clad in a too-big Linkon Tennis Club hoodie and sweats, you’re about to slip out of the room when you look back to the bed.

Gorgeous, even with their tousled hair and soft snores.

Gently, closing the door, you fish your forgotten phone out of your purse. You glance at the time as you walk down the hallway, sighing when you realize you had enough time to make it to practice.

Hopefully they’d come to your next match.

zaddy

cw. nonmc!reader, reader n sylus r close long-distance friends, reader has a bf, implied stalking, lowk dialog for sylus is hard to write. also, based off of that one scene from you. i just needed to post🪫🪫

the beauty of shopping with sylus is that it’s so easy.

not just because of his black card (though, that definitely helps), but because he always seems to know exactly what you want and need.

you’re low on body wash? he’s already placed it your cart, waiting like a smug cat for you to notice only at the self checkout.

you’ve been craving some new, trendy sweet treat? he deliberately lingers around the aisle and watches you longingly gaze at the bag before dropping it in the cart for himself. (he’ll end up giving the whole thing to you later, claiming he didn’t like it.)

your bedroom door has been creaking? he casually brings it up just as you two pass the aisle, and you can’t help but agree. it really has been squeaky, and sometimes, late at night, you swear you can hear it opening and closing. weird.

plus, you thought sylus couldn’t hear it over the phone.

huh. maybe it’s louder than you thought.

his infinite wisdom doesn’t seem to end at mere grocery store runs, either. he does big purchases too, when you finally get away from your boyfriend and return to him.

you two walk through the mattress store with sylus a firm presence behind you and the salesman thoroughly scared away. they don’t know what’s best for you, he does.

you’re a cute shopper, he thinks. if it’s even possible for shopping to be cute.

then again, you make anything cute.

you’re just so concentrated, brows knitted together and your top row of teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, like you’re going into battle rather than buying a bigger mattress for you and your boyfriend.

sylus would prefer you be buying that bigger mattress for yourself and not that . . boy, but he keeps that venomous thought to himself.

as long as he makes you happy, sweetie.

even though sylus could make you much happier.

“sylus.”

like a dog heeding its master’s call, he stops right beside you, both of you staring down at a king-sized mattress.

he knows this brand. in fact, he’s invested a hefty amount of money into it. they’re pretty good, with cooling and heating features, along with being able to change the angle of it.

top of the line, of course.

you test out every aforementioned feature, and he doesn’t even need to use his evol to see that you’re sold. that’s the kind you want.

and so, that’s the kind you’ll get, price tag be damned.

you pat the space beside you, and sylus lies down. considering he’s practically 6’5, the bed isn’t quite long enough to accommodate him, and his feet dangle off the edge, earning a giggle from you.

again, cute.

“you probably had to get a custom-made mattress, huh?” you tease, and sylus only scoffs, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

“i’m not that long.”

you kiss your teeth. “but your feet are dangling off the edge! i bet you curl up all cute like a kitty just to fit, then.”

he hums. “definitely not.” you do, though.

you shoot sylus a flat, disbelieving look, one of which he only responds to with a smirk. “still . . this is a really nice bed,” you mumble and press yourself deeper into it, as if you can simply sink into the foam and springs. “so expensive, though . .”

he lets out an affirmative hum this time. “downsize. it’s cheaper, and your bedroom can’t fit a king.”

true. you’d probably have to take all your furniture out to even squeeze it in there.

“yeah, i think . .”

wait.

how does sylus know that?

you turn your head to look at him, the amusement now vacant from your face as you stare at him. he stares back.

“how do you know that?”

. . .

silence. not the peaceful kind, but the kind where you’re both holding your breath, tension and anxiety (moreso on your part) seeping into your frames.

the kind of tension that makes you rethink your boyfriend’s words, about how “weird” and “creepy” your friend is.

the kind that has you wondering if, perhaps, his words hold some truth.

sylus shrugs his broad shoulders, a move that should be casual but seems just a little too stiff. “a guess. it isn’t all that hard to figure out your layout from video calls.”

it was the briefest of pauses, but it was long enough for you to notice that there’s a strange twinkle in his crimson eyes, as if he knows something you don’t, like you’re a pig being led to the slaughter with a dangling carrot.

but no. no way. that’s ridiculous!

for one, sylus is your friend. you two have been friends for a couple of months now, actually, and have gotten pretty close.

two, his answer makes perfect sense. you’ve probably shown off your room without even noticing it, and he’s always been perceptive.

there’s no ill will here. why would there be?

you sigh and the tension deflates out of you like a balloon. this is what you get for watching all those docuseries late at night. you’re definitely watching something different tonight, like a cheesy romcom or a corny action movie.

“eh, you’re right,” you say as you push yourself up and off the mattress. “it’d probably be way too much to try and squeeze a king in there, and then i’d have to move all my stuff around . .” you tsk. “i should just stick with a queen.”

sylus follows your lead and gets up, and whatever was in his gaze earlier is gone now. “mm, yes.”

that boyfriend will be fine. he doesn’t have a choice but to be.

regardless, he doesn’t let you two leave without a swipe of his card. you’ll get that mattress, and he’ll get to watch you roll around on it when it comes.

a win-win, no?

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

im so skibidi fucked for calebs myth

its always that tuna cunt😞

lost on kitty cards to rafayel 3 times in a roll. I hope he gets burnt to crisp by the sun

need sylus or rafayel to be my paypigs this instant