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mc-syndrome · 1 day ago

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SHH... WE CAN'T GET CAUGHT.

nsfw (18+). includes fingering, breast play, dirty talk, huge cock, unprotected sex, creampie, fwb relationship (it's pretty obvious you like each other tho), mentions of your first time experience with caleb (and other times after that), having sex when another person is just a few rooms away, too much cum, slight praise kink. filthy, filthy, filthy smut from top to bottom. likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

“Shh... you don't want Gran hearing us, do you?”

You're covering your mouth to stifle your whimpers, but there's no hiding the wet squelches beneath the blanket. You wrap your hand around Caleb's flicking wrist, his fingers buried deep inside your cunt. When he adds another digit, a loud cry of his name is pulled out of you.

Caleb presses a soft kiss against your nape. You're both turned on your sides, your back against his solid chest. “As much as I like hearing you say my name, it'd be a problem if someone came to interrupt us. Remember the last time?”

The last time he's referring to is your risky tryst from a few days back; Caleb joined you in your bath, claiming he wants to “wash your back” for you. As expected, 20% of your time was spent in a relaxing soak where he massaged your shoulders and washed your hair, and the remaining 80% was spent with his head between your legs, coaxing out wave after wave of cum with his fingers and tongue.

The tip of his cock was already inside you when a knock on your door interrupted you, your grandmother asking if you knew where Caleb went because he wasn't in his room. Needless to say, you had to stop what you were doing and Caleb had a difficult time sneaking out of the bathroom.

“That... mmph... and this... is all your fault...” you struggle to say while biting back your moans as he grinds his fingers against a good spot, his thumb flicking at your clit. Caleb has always been too good with his hands. “You always—ah!—do this even when there are other people around...!”

“You wanna know why?” Chuckling, Caleb leans closer to whisper to your ear, lips brushing over your soft skin. “You squeeze me so fucking tight when we're about to get caught.”

You gush around his fingers as he mouths on the shell of your ear, moaning into the palm of your hand. He hums in satisfaction, pulling out his hand from your panties to admire the stringy release between his fingers. “You always cum too fast, pipsqueak. You pent up these days?”

How on earth could you possibly be pent up when you've been fucking Caleb at every opportunity? Every time you're left alone at the house, he fucks you against any flat surface he can find—the door when he's too impatient to go to your room, the bathroom sink because he likes making you watch yourself in the mirror when he's fucking you stupid, and even ate you out on the kitchen countertop at some point.

But the thing is, Caleb is undaunted by the possibility of being caught. So even when your Gran is around, he sneaks into your bedroom to fool around, just like what he's doing now under the pretense of “we watched a horror movie today, aren't you scared to sleep alone?”

Evidently, Caleb has no intention of letting you sleep tonight. He fondles your tits beneath your shirt, the tent in his sweatpants grinding against your clothed ass. “Don't pretend like you're innocent,” he mutters, making you yelp when he pinches your nipple. “You strutted around all day wearing my shirt without a bra, bending down in front of me on purpose... Did you know how hard it was to hold back from fucking you on the spot?”

“T-that was...!” Your cheeks flush with warmth. Sure, you were kind of riling him up on purpose, but that was under the assumption you'd be alone tonight.

“This ass...” he rubs you above your shorts, groaning as he palms at the soft flesh. “...was in my mind the entire fucking day. I held myself back until now, but I can't hold back anymore, fuck.”

He strips you off of your clothes, only leaving his shirt scrunched up above your breasts. He pulls down his sweatpants, and you feel his huge cock slap against your lower back, his pre-cum smearing across your skin. He holds the back of your knee to raise your leg, positioning his cock to your soaked pussy.

“Been waiting for this for so fucking long... Oh, shiiit,” he moans, long and drawn out and dirty as he slides right home, the tip of his dick pounding at your cervix. You squeal into your hand, your cunt clamping down on his cock so tightly but it doesn't deter his fast pace at all.

He reaches so deep like this, hitting spots he normally couldn't when you're in missionary. His huge cock feels like it's carving its own space into your body, coring you out from the inside, and it feels so good that you can't hold back your voice at all.

“Nn... Don't do that,” Caleb pulls away your hand from your mouth when he notices you biting down on your skin to hide your moans. He replaces it by putting his fingers in your mouth, cooing softly to your ear, “Suck. You're going to hurt yourself.”

You suck on his fingers, eyes rolling back to your head as he continues to pound you, fucking your pussy so good. Only Caleb knows how to make you feel so much pleasure to the point you can't think properly anymore. Your fingers could never hope to reach the places his cock touches.

It's how this twisted relationship started in the first place, Caleb catching you touching yourself when you forgot to lock your door. He taught you how to make yourself cum because you didn't know anything, until all you knew was him and his cock. But he was too big the first time you took him in that he had to fuck you loose with four fingers, sucking and licking at your pussy to make you wet enough to accept his thick girth and length. Now, he could slide inside you easily, your body having taken his shape.

Caleb stares at your messy face, utterly endeared. “Fuck, you're so fucking cute...” He takes out his fingers from your mouth, using them to tilt your jaw to meet his lips. He kisses you sloppy, no finesse as you slide your tongue against his, moaning into each other's mouths. “Mm... open your mouth more... yeah, that's it, baby... good fucking girl...”

“Ah, fuck, Caleb!” you sob, desperately rocking against his cock. “I'm gonna cum, cumming, I can't anymore...!”

“You're gonna cum?” Caleb stops thrusting, making you whine and attempt to move yourself, but he holds onto your hips and pushes you into the mattress, laying you flat on the sheets on your front. He settles behind you, using his weight to pound you to the mattress harder. “Then fucking cum.”

You moan uncontrollably into the pillows, completely forgetting you're meant to stay quiet. Caleb fucks his cock harder, faster, deeper, failing to hold back his own grunts as you tighten up around him, wet heat melting around his dick. “Shit, I'm gonna cum too... I'm gonna cum hard in your slutty fucking pussy... fuck, I'm cumming!”

You squirt around his cock as he fills you up with cum, your fluids making a mess between your bodies and the sheets. You don't realize you're crying out up until Caleb grabs your chin and kisses you once more, muffling the lewd moans you're letting out while he's still cumming inside you, hot and thick. He gives you tiny, slowing thrusts, cock still spurting out semen. “Oh, baby, you did so good...” he sucks on your bottom lip, staring intently at your orgasm face. “Such a good fucking girl for me...”

“So... full...” is the only thing you can say, feeling the sheer volume of one load of his cum in your pussy, warming you from the inside.

“Not full enough, baby.” Caleb peppers your face with kisses. It is then that you realize—with no small amount of fear and arousal—his cock hasn't softened at all. “I still have a lot to give you.”

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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STUFF ME!

synopsis: your mission to collect intel on an auction seems to be going well until sylus catches an unexpected jealous streak.

warnings: porn no plot, couch sex, creampie, super loud possessive sex

wc: 1,2k

sylus was not a jealous man. he wasn’t.

he knew himself as a well assured person without much that could deter him. he knew you were capable of handling yourself well in any situation and that you were loyal to him just as he was to you.

but for some reason he couldn’t figure out why he felt a small agitating tick in his neck when he watched your flirt with an auctioneer to gather information for him. the way you smiled at him, the fact that his grimy hands touched you on your arm, his mere presence within your vicinity– it was maddening.

and that was why– just a floor above the auction hall in your hotel suite– he was balls deep inside you.

you hadn’t even managed to reach the bedroom before your clothes slipped off, your lips were attached to each other, and your hands wandered all over to places only you two had the privilege of touching.

your nails were deep enough to make sylus’ back bleed for how hard he was ploughing into you. his face was buried in your pretty breasts, swollen with arousal and slick from his tongue sucking harsh love bites onto you, bounced with each slap of your hips snapping together.

“sy– wait–“ you hiccuped but your pleas fell to deaf ears. you were overstimulated, overwhelmed and yet so hungry for more.

that relentless goal to drill his cock into you and stuff you until you were only capable of saying his name drove you insane. you didn’t think he’d get this jealous. you didn’t even know it was possible.

“i didn’t like– ah– how he was looking at you.” halfway through the route to painting you with his cum for the second time, sylus’s jealousy had long faded. now he was just relishing in enjoying you– enjoying the process of bringing you to exhaustion just from pleasuring you.

he gave your lips a long sloppy kiss, imagining torturing your clit with his tongue and feeling your walls tighten around his fingers. he knew how much you loved it, and he loved seeing you squirm. your tongues swirled and bumped, leaving you both so wet and hot.

“wanted– fuck, sy– wanted you to–“ you were babbling at that point reaching orgasm number three, all while feeling empty because he decided to punish you by cumming on you instead of deep inside knowing how much you loved it. he was being so, so cruel. leaving you so soaked with your only way of leaking on him is with your own slick and the ring of cream decorating his thick cock.

your back arched just as he bullied his tip consistently at that deliciously vicious pace right on your sweet, sensitive spot. and yet, it felt so tender at the same time. his lips peppered your skin like butterflies tickling your skin, his thumbs massaged your hips while his grip tightened in the gradual slip to lose control.

“so warm,” his hips pounded into yours at your favourite angle to the point where his heavy sacks were slapping your skin, making that familiar wet plap! plap! plap! noise with the squelches of your soaked pussy being rammed into. “you looked so good tonight, sweetie.”

you couldn’t do anything other than moan out, clawing your nails on his back, fruitlessly sucking on the muscle of his shoulder to not be so loud. the walls weren’t that thick and if room service came by to deliver the meals you had preordered earlier that night, they’d hear the most obscene sounds imaginable.

the most lewd cries and babbling rambles escaping your pretty lips.

“gonna– gonna cu– god, please sy!” you whined as your walls clenched around his cock for the nth time that night. if your teeth weren’t clamped onto his shoulder you wouldn’t have seen him almost vibrate from the feeling of your pussy almost sucking the cum right out of him.

“don’t worry– f-fuck–“ he moaned, slowly drawing back to plough his cock back into your weeping cunny. now he was just being mean. his eyes were slowly rolling back as he neared his edge. “ ‘m close too.”

it was just too good to pull out, too good to torture you more and more when he could sink deep in you nice and snug and decorate your walls like a fucking picasso. he just knew that image would beat any form of art. and that was just a loud reminder of how he was completely at your mercy. everything you wanted, he would give.

if his eyes could form heart shapes, he’d be the most love drunk, pussy drunk sucker that would do anything and everything for you. he wanted to spend hours tending to your needs and desires and satiating your insatiable greed for him.

his hand reached down to your aching clit to mercilessly rub circles and pinch at it like his favourite toy. a whimper slipped through your lips from the friction of your wetness between your clit and his fingers. if his relentless pounding wasn’t enough to tip you over the edge you were sure the stimulation to your raw bud would make you pass out.

your babbles turned into complete incomprehensible nonsense mixed with your lewd, slutty moans sounding like a symphony to sylus, just enough to give you one final thrust to bring you to an intense, explosive climax.

a hoarse cry ripped from your throat as your head threw back from the sheer pleasuring force, driving you into a pleasure-fuelled craze. not seconds after, thick hot cum spurted into you like a current washing into a shore.

your fluttering cunny took his seed squeezing around his cock to milk all of it out of him until he shot countless blanks. sylus continued to pound his cum deep into you, fucking you both through your orgasms.

felt so fucking good– so disrespectfully raw and nasty that you felt your stomach tighten and your hips buck against his, squelching the excess cum all over the couch.

as the thrill began to ebb away, your breathless pants evened out. you moved your hands to stroke sylus’ back in bliss, kissing all the areas you brutally marked and bit him. sylus gently returned the gesture with his massages around your hips, cock still hard, twitching and throbbing, leaking his cum into you.

“i got intel,” you murmured. he groaned into your neck, and indication for you to say more. “the auction’s a dud. the weapons are all rip offs.”

a deep chuckle rumbled into your skin. “knew it.” his grip on your hips tightened as he readjusted his position on the couch to throw your legs onto you before trapping you beneath him with his cock twitching with fervent desire.

“good job, sweetie,” he pecked your lips with satisfaction then kissed you again, swiping your swollen lips with his tongue. “i think i’ll take care of getting intel from now on.”

it was safe to say you weren’t going to go back to that auction. or leave the suite until you were stuffed to the brim.

a/n: lemme feed you guys some good straight up smut

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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🥀

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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clingy, sleepy caleb? anyone? 🥺

••••

caleb going over to the kitchen where you’re preparing some coffee and wrapping his arms around you from behind. being recently woken up, he sleepily nestles his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling it. he whines when you try to pull away to finish preparing the coffee, causing for him to hold you tighter, and closer. you feel him sigh against your neck, and he lightly licks it before nibbling the skin. you can feel his morning wood pressing against your thigh, but caleb evidently hasn’t noticed— he’s too busy keeping you trapped in his arms, clingy and needy; unwilling to let go.

“how can you smell this good in the morning?” he asks, voice raspy and hoarse from drowsiness.

“it’s just the coffee.”

caleb shakes his head, his strands tickling your cheek and jaw. he pushes away your hair, to trail the nape of your neck with his nose as he inhales. you can feel him smiling where his lips lightly graze your skin.

“nah, it’s you. so good…,” he says lazily, as he presses a kiss before snuggling against you again. his hands roam on your front under your shirt, fingers idly playing with hem of your bra.

he sighs, an almost defeated sound and he turns you around to rest his forehand against yours, “you seriously make me go crazy…”

you laugh and stand on your tiptoes, giving a peck to his nose. caleb smiles, a flush on his ears and keeps on hugging you to him— not wasting another second without your warmth.

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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TAPPING OUT

synopsis. caleb graduates from the academy, but when you unexpectedly tap him out, a tradition where loved ones step forward to formally release a pilot from their duty, he realizes no achievement compares to having you by his side. (based on this.) word count. 1.1k an. loved doing this for codghost so i might as well do it for this man. lets pretend they have the tradition in their universe. okay? okay.

caleb stood in the crowd, his posture rigid and form still with precision despite the celebration around him. cheers echoed through the room, but they sounded distant, muffled. he watched as pilots, one by one, were tapped out by their loved ones. parents embracing their children, lovers reuniting in tearful hugs.

his chest tightened as his eyes scanned the room. he was waiting for gran, the one person he knew would come. gran had always shown up, had always been his anchor. he learnt not to expect anything more, not to hope for anyone else.

but then, like a shift in the universe, caleb felt you before he saw you.

when you stepped into the room, it was as if the entire world faded away. time slowed, the noise dimmed, and the lights seemed to soften, catching on the edges of your features. you looked beautiful, achingly so. heartbreakingly out of reach. you weren’t supposed to be here, not after the fight, not after the cruel words you’d both thrown at each other before he left.

you moved toward him with purpose, cutting through the room like you were meant to be there all along.

caleb couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t think.

his hands trembled at his sides as he watched you close the distance between you. he could act all stoic, but his heart didn’t feel stoic enough to make him calm.

when you stopped in front of him, there were tears already brimming in your eyes. his carefully constructed control, unshakable during training, steadfast through every grueling challenge, began to crumble.

caleb had faced impossible physical challenges, the grueling expectations of training, and the endless psychological evaluations that pushed him to the edge. but none of those had broken him nearly like you did. you, standing here, looking at him like that.

you were his undoing.

you should be his first sign. the first sign that there was something wrong with him. because you were his obsession. the one he was slowly losing control over.

caleb was not allowed to fall in love with you.

he trembled as your fingers brushed against his, tapping him out of his frozen misery. the soft touch was meant to symbolize recognition, acknowledgment. but to caleb, it was so much more.

you were here. you were real.

there was no second-guessing, no hesitation. before he could stop himself, his arms were around you, pulling you into him with a force that left him breathless. a strangled sigh escaped his lips and found its home in the crook of your neck, right where your heart beats: friends, friends, friends.

he held you like a man drowning, and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. he felt the soft shake of your shoulders, the warmth of your tears against his neck, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

‘i didn’t think you’d come,’ he whispered, his voice low and raw, breaking under the weight of his emotions. you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. there was something in his gaze, but before you could respond, he spoke again, quieter this time, like a vow. ‘i’ll never let you go.’

the words made you shiver. they were so soft you almost didn’t catch them.

‘you can try,’ you joked, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to lighten the mood. a nervous laugh escaped as you gently pushed against his chest, pretending to escape his embrace. ‘you love me, i get it.’

but caleb didn’t loosen his hold. instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. there was a quiet laugh, quiet and unsteady, before he murmured, ‘you have no idea, pipsqueak.’

his voice was filled with something raw, something deeper than you could fully understand. it wasn’t just love. it was obsession, devotion, a yearning that had no end.

you smelled like honey. like the same thing you’d been smelling your entire life that made you feel like home in a way that hotels and dorm beds could never manage.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, shining pin they’d given him for finishing aerospace academy. it gleamed in the light, a symbol of everything he’d fought to achieve. without a word, he placed it carefully in your palm.

your fingers brushed his as you took it, and the touch sent sparks up his arm. with careful, deliberate precision, you pinned it to his chest. caleb didn’t move, his gaze fixed on you, watching every motion, every soft touch of your fingers against his uniform.

‘they should give you a medal instead for doing so well,’ you teased softly, smiling up at him.

once the pin was secure, you smoothed down his uniform, your fingers lingering against the fabric. it was such a small gesture, but it felt so intimate that caleb’s breath hitched.

he tried his best not to be frantic, but it was almost impossible when he was overloaded with want, want, want, and with the feeling that this might not happen again, with the fear that if caleb thought about it too hard, he’d stop himself before he did too much.

he couldn’t stop himself any longer. leaning down, he kissed your cheek, his lips lingering on your skin. he didn’t move away immediately, letting the moment stretch as he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of you.

he felt like a criminal on the run, but it was too good to withdraw from. so, he overdosed on unrequited love.

when he finally pulled back, there was a soft, almost shy smile on his lips. his voice was low, but full of meaning. ‘i already have my reward.’

you looked up at him, your cheeks warm, his cap still sitting crooked on your head. for a moment, neither of you spoke, and the weight of everything unsaid lingered between you.

and caleb, looking at you, standing there with your fingers still on his uniform, knew it was the absolute truth. you didn’t realize it, but you were the center of his universe. his greatest test, his deepest weakness, and the one thing he could never, ever let go of.

i’m a fool, he decided. damned in the bits of exhaustion at pulling and pushing at whatever’s left of trying.

the noise of the crowd finally broke through the haze, the sound of laughter and celebration pulling you both back to the present. caleb stepped back slightly, watching as you adjusted his cap, your smile soft but hesitant.

you didn’t have to know the struggle he’d endured to get here, the battles he’d fought within himself.

you were his obsession. his reason for everything. and he was losing control, but he didn’t care. because having you here, now, was all that mattered.

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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Thinking abt if rafayel and mc broke up he'd let the world know it(subtly ofc)

Like suddenly,rafayel would start pumping out a lot of heartbreaking/angst pieces and Thomas is in the back,frantically dialing mc like "on GOD,you better DRAG YOUR ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW. if you dont come back RIGHT NOW,he's either going to use up ALL his expensive paint on this or KILL HIMSELF."

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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I think Caleb is the LI with the biggest breeding kink. Having you as pseudo-family for most of his life he wants the two of you to be a family for real. What better way than marriage and a kid?

Will go feral if you ask him to cum inside you.

"Do you know what you're asking for, princess? I'll stuff you so full of my seed there's no way it won't take..."

#i say this as someone who does not want kids!!#since the boys can now track your period (ew) he'd definitely keep track of your most fertile days #breeding you extra hard those days #love and deepspace #lads #caleb #love and deepspace caleb #it's 7.22 in the morning btw :))#which i think says something about my character

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mc-syndrome · 2 days ago

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DO YOU WANT MORE?

nsfw (18+). includes implied marathon sex, unprotected sex, breeding, breast play, squirting, caleb fucks roughly but still does tender gestures <3, nicknames (pipsqueak is possibly the worst they could've picked for a canon nickname but this is my attempt at making it sound hot). filthy smut from top to bottom. likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

“C'mon, pipsqueak, raise your hips.”

Caleb squeezes your waist, his thrusts changing from a deep, persistent grind that makes you feel every inch of his cock to a fast-paced pounding. You've long lost feeling in your legs, and the only thing keeping you from sprawling on the bed is Caleb's tight grip on your hips, fucking into you relentlessly from behind.

“Ah...! Wait, Caleb, haah, no more...!”

Each thrust loudly snaps the bedframe against the wall, but it isn't enough to hide the squelching noises between your legs. Slick and cum drip down your thighs, staining the sheets into ruin. They get even messier with a few more thrusts as you gush around his cock unannounced, squirting into the cum-soaked bedsheets.

Caleb groans as your cunt squeezes around him, trying to coax out more of his hot cum. “Fuck, baby, you're so tight... Feels good when your cunt sucks on my cock...”

His hand slides to your squirting pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. More slick jets out of you, soaking his palm. Squealing, you try to crawl away him him, gripping tightly on the blankets that have been slipping off the bed.

The delicious pressure against your clit releases, but Caleb pulls you back to his cock. He straightens your back to press against his chest, bottoming out in a single thrust to hit the deepest spot in your pussy. “Ngh, why are you running away? Didn't you say you'd last longer than me, pips?” He pants against your ear, hand tenderly running along your side to soothe you, yet his hips don't stop their merciless thrusts. “Or are you tapping out now?”

Perhaps hours ago, you would have answered with a vehement refusal. But now, with drool dripping from your lips constantly agape from moaning, your clit too sensitive from his insistent flicking and rubbing, and your thoroughly-fucked cunt filled with his loads of cum, the idea of calling it quits sounds appealing.

“I'll do whatever you want, baby. Just say the word,” Caleb murmurs against your skin, his lips molding over your neck to suck another hickey among the marks he already made. “If you want to stop, I'll run the bath and take care of you. We'll cuddle on the sofa and watch that new movie you've been looking forward to.”

His hips stop, having pulled all the way out, the tip barely brushing against your cunt. “But if you don't want to stop...”

Slowly, his hand travels up your torso, squeezing your tits. He plays with your nipples, evoking another gasp out of you. “I'll make you feel good. Fuck any other thought out of your mind so you'll only think of me.”

You whine as his cock rubs along your wet folds, catching on the strings of cum dripping from your pussy. The tip circles around your clit, teases at your opening, just putting it in enough to make you feel its thick girth, but he pulls out too soon.

“What will you choose, baby?”

Your hazy mind can't come up with clear thoughts, foggy from the pleasure. But forming an answer is the easiest thing to do—it's not like he left you with any other choice, anyway.

“Please fuck me, Caleb,” you sob, clinging at the arm cupping your breast. “Please put your cock inside me. Fuck me even if I tell you to stop. Cum... please cum more inside m- ahh!”

You're roughly flipped onto your back, but he holds your head softly to lay you down on the pillow. It's only at this moment that you get to see Caleb's face, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his temples, his lip bitten red from the strain of holding back. “Shit... you really do know how to rile me up, pipsqueak.”

He looms over you, muscled arms caging you on the bed, chest heaving up and down as he pants. He fixes his position, resting his weight on his knees, and he uses his hands to spread your legs wider. His eyes are dark with lust while he stares at your abused hole, spilling cum on the sheets below you.

“Maybe this time, I really will fuck you pregnant.”

The statement doesn't even register in your mind because he immediately thrusts inside, pounding at your cervix. You gasp, aimlessly grasping at anything you could hold onto as you lose your mind, a fresh stream of cum soaking his cock.

His abs ripple with each thrust, the dirtiest groans and pants leaving his lips. “Fuck, you're so cute... cumming already when I just put it in.” Caleb leans closer, catching both of your wrists to make you wrap your arms around his neck instead of the dirty sheets. “When did you become such a pervert?” He drops his head to suck at your tits, licking your nipples.

It's your fault, you want to say, but all that leaves your mouth are noises you didn't think you were capable of making until Caleb touched you for the first time months ago, and he hasn't stopped since. You heard couples would be insatiable for the first few weeks of dating, but it feels like you're never going to go past that phase.

“Can't even speak because my dick's too good, huh?” Caleb chuckles, thumb resting on your lips. He rubs the tip of your tongue, pleased when you dart out to lick him. “You're the absolute cutest...”

The sounds between your bodies are downright lewd. His cum sloshes inside you every time he fucks you to the bed, forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock. He's filled you up so much with his huge cock and cum, that you wonder how you even have the space to breathe.

Caleb's the type to try to be quiet, but he's not holding back his moans now, groaning his pleasure against your ear.

“This feels too good, shit... Feel like I'm gonna cum soon...” He tucks the hair covering your face behind your ear, pressing a gentle kiss at the corner of your teary eyes, so different from the rough fucking he's giving to your pussy. “I'm gonna blow my load inside you. You want that, don't you?”

You nod desperately, leaning your face on his hand that's cupping your cheek. He smiles, nuzzling against you, but the sweet moment lasts only for a few seconds before he thrusts even faster, chasing his release.

“Fuck, here it comes, I'm cumming...” Caleb drives his cock the deepest it can go, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh, fuuuuck, I'm cumming!”

Thick, hot strings of cum coat your insides once more, crammed into the tight space of your cunt. Your squirt splashes against his pelvis and abs as you moan high and reedy, scratching lines down his back. He hisses at the slight pain, spurting more cum at the feeling, and he collapses on your body, making sure not to suffocate you with his weight.

“Ah... damn... I don't think I've cum that hard in a while...” He ruffles through your hair, soothingly patting your head. “You doing okay?”

“You're too intense,” you say, your voice weak and groggy. You wrap your arms around him, content to fall asleep and let Caleb take care of things from here.

“Hey, don't fall asleep now.” He pokes your cheek, trying to stir you awake. When you open your eyes, you see Caleb smiling, the one that means he's up to no good. “After all that you said, do you really think this will end with just one round?”

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mc-syndrome · 3 days ago

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surrender

Caleb gets a text late at night from his favorite person. After rushing to her aid, Caleb finds himself getting more than he bargained for as his Pipsqueak tests the boundaries of their relationship in the dark corners of a seedy club.

Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)

Genre: Smut (with feelings); closer to "M" than "E"; 18+

CW: Mildly drunk MC convinces Caleb to dance with her; drunk grinding; dry humping; masturbation

Also on AO3

Caleb. I need you

The text flashes on his phone’s screen.

Pip-squeak, where are you?

Caleb stares at his phone, his reconstructed hand clenching around the delicate device as he waits… and waits. Finally, she starts to type. It takes a while, but eventually, she manages to drop him her current location.

Though he’s not familiar with the spot, a quick search brings up the details—a nightclub, a bit of a scandalous reputation, owner unknown, but suspected ties to the N109 Zone. His jaw clenches. Of course, his Pip-squeak can handle herself, but there’s something off about her messages.

Are you drinking? Drunk.

He takes one deep breath, and then another, and texts back:

Stay put. I’ll be there soon.

It’s lucky he’d been meaning to stop by for a surprise visit, so he’s already nearby. If she knew how often he haunted her place, wanting with every fiber of his being just to see her, just to make sure she’s okay… she’d probably hate him for it.

But on nights like this, when she calls him for help—him, and no one else—he feels justified in his obsession.

Just a little.

The club is busy when he arrives, and he’s not dressed for it. Fortunately, he can be remarkably charming when he wants to be. The bouncer gives him a long look, eyes trailing up and down before settling on Caleb’s face.

“There’s a dress code,” the man starts to say, but Caleb already knows where this is going.

As innate as his Evol is his ability to get what he wants… at least, with anyone other than her. Caleb cocks his head, his fashionably shaggy hair falling into his eyes.

“I was hoping you’d be able to make an exception,” Caleb drawls. “I’ve just had a hell of a day flying.”

“You a pilot?” Caleb nods. The man gives him another look. “You look familiar. Have I seen you on the news or something?”

And as Caleb’s heroic misadventures are revealed, he willingly gives up the anonymity to get to her.

Once he’s waved through the door and into the dark club, his ears are immediately assaulted by the sound. Even for a pilot, who daily has to deal with the screeching peels of flybys, the club is loud. Caleb stands off to the side, closes his eyes, and feels.

He’s always been able to find her, no matter where she happens to be, ever since they were kids. This is no exception. Whether due to their childhood spent together, or the way their powers blend—seamlessly, effortlessly, powerfully—he can feel her.

When he finds his Pip-squeak, she’s being accosted by another man. Caleb immediately stands up straight, fist clenching of its own volition. He can handle this without violence, and he will, but if it came down to it… he’d throw a punch for her. Hell, he’d done so many times before.

No one gets away with bothering his girl. No one.

Caleb pulls up close and places a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. He can bring this man to his knees in the blink of an eye, and part of him wants to.

Did you think you could get away with talking to someone like her?

Thank God, the man isn’t close enough to touch her, otherwise, Caleb hates to think about what he might do. The reveler turns to face him, no doubt expecting to tell him to fuck off, but he quickly realizes that Caleb is out of his league, both in mass and height.

“Sorry, man. This your girl?”

“Yeah, she is.”

And that’s all it takes. Caleb steps around the man, and carefully gathers her against his body, both as a necessity—it is loud as hell—and because he needs it. Her hands are a little unsteady, as are her feet. She’s not just been drinking, she’s drunk.

Caleb leans in, lips close to her ear as he says, “Gotten yourself into some trouble, Pip-squeak?”

Her fingers curl into his shirt, and he can’t help but flex, just a little, as her fingertips brush against his abdomen.

“Caleb,” she manages over the music, lips brushing against his chin as she demands, “Dance with me.”

Maybe not as drunk as he’d thought? Caleb looks down at her. She’s beautiful tonight, but that’s nothing new. She’s the most beautiful girl in the whole galaxy to him. Her eyes are a little glassy, so she’s definitely been drinking, but really, did she just want him here?

He wants whatever she wants, wants desperately to give her everything that she needs, and more. He’d have come to this club with her if she’d asked. He would have needed to blow off some work meetings and take some shit from his superiors, but he’d have done it. Maybe that’s why he got a frantic half-text near midnight instead.

She never wants to put him out, never mind that he is practically beside himself with the need to be there for her, however, and wherever she wants.

Still, he can’t help but tease, just a little. His words are soft, breath trailing against her skin as he says, “I’m not much of a dancer, baby.”

The endearment slips out before he can stop himself, and though he’s not quite certain, Caleb thinks he feels her shiver against him. Or maybe she’s just cold… the outfit she’s wearing leaves precious little to the imagination, and more than half of him wants to wrap her in his jacket and take her away from prying eyes to somewhere he can enjoy her all by himself, but he resists.

Because she’s asked something of him. And Caleb aims to deliver, especially after a sweetly uttered, “Please, Caleb.”

Her cheeks are flushed, lips caught between her teeth, as she waits with bated breath for his answer. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to her. After a beat, Caleb leads her into a more secluded corner of the club. Here, the music is softer, and the space is somewhat enclosed, so he can enjoy her all to himself.

Of course, Caleb knows he’s being greedy, and that it’s not right for him to covet her the way he does. Growing up, they were something akin to siblings, and while his affection for her stretches beyond what he’d be able to express in words, he knows it’s wrong to want her the way he does.

But he does, anyway.

So much changed so quickly for them. And when she’d appeared in his life once more, breaking into his space and with all the subtlety of a supernova, Caleb knew he couldn’t let her go again. Wouldn’t. Now, he is hopelessly entangled with her, and so, it seems, is she with him.

The low beat of the music resonates through him. Caleb takes a moment to collect himself before pulling his girl close again. With her body pressed up against his, their hands clasped, he leads her through a slow dance.

Truthfully, it’s more than a grind than a proper dance. He’s thinking that maybe he’ll catch her off guard a little and that their game of cat and mouse will quickly come to an end, the way it always does. But she surprises him, instead.

As the music reaches a fever pitch, she turns in his arms and presses back. Because of the heels she’s wearing, she presses up tight against his groin. Caleb barely keeps himself from stumbling as she rolls her ass into him, and when she reaches up and back, arms locking behind his neck to hold him exactly where she wants him, he lets out a soft whine that’s immediately swallowed up by the sound of the music.

At least, he hopes it is. He’s so fucking done for her. Every time they come together, it gets a little bit harder to part. Every teasing touch, every lingering look, every softly spoken word seeps into his body, clenches around his heart, and threatens to destroy him.

But God, wouldn’t it be glorious to lose to someone like her? Whether with his life or his devotion or literally any fucking thing, he’d give it all to her. His hands slip to her hips, holding her tight as he presses back—hard and hot against the curve of her ass.

She hisses, nails scraping softly against skin as she threads her fingers into his hair and pulls. And that is entirely too much. One beat to the next, he’s got her spun and pressed up against the nearest wall, leg pressed between hers, hands on either side of her head.

He’s breathing hard, and so is she. Reaching up, her hand traces the sharp line of his jaw, and he presses into that soft touch. Her hands are cold. Is she nervous? Scared? Or something else entirely…?

She stares up at him, licking her lips as her eyes lock with his. He knows what she’s thinking because he’s thinking it too. But he’s not gonna do this right now. He can’t do this right now. So many fractured moments shared between them. So much unacknowledged. Would this just be another moment added to the list that they both tacitly ignored?

Her thumb presses into his chapped lower lip. Between the flying and the stress, his lips aren’t in the best condition, but hers… look soft, supple, and slick. If he presses his lips against hers, would he take a measure of that sweetness back for his own?

The thought of tasting her has him growing even harder in his pants, so much so that he has to reach down and adjust the length of it. She sees him. Of course, how can she not? Her cheeks are flushed, eyes downcast, and tongue trapped between teeth as she reaches out, and—

But he stops her. The soft swell of his power pins her wrists against the wall and her chin lifts, eyes defiant as she frowns. But that’s just one more step down a path that they’ll never be able to come back from. But she’s not about to go down without a fight, not his beautiful girl.

“Caleb,” she breathes just a moment before she lifts the edge of her skirt and presses down against the thigh that’s keeping her pinned to the wall. “I need you.”

Caleb swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights with his need. He wants her. Badly. Has wanted her for so much of his life now he can’t separate his sense of self from the longing. There are two constants in Caleb’s life, his need to protect her, and his desire for her, both at war with each other, for his need to protect includes from himself.

But how can he deny her, when she asks so sweetly and when her body is so hot and soft against his? His hands clench against the wall, forehead pressing into hers as he bids her, “Move.”

At first, she’s confused, and it feels like she’s gonna pull herself off of him. But he doesn’t want that. God, that’s the last thing he wants. His Evol stills her, then gently drags her forward, that soft, sensitive space between her legs slowly rubbing into his thigh. Her eyes widen as she gets his meaning.

“But Caleb,” she sweetly pouts. “My hands.”

That’s all it takes. Her hands are free from the invisible restraints, and immediately her arms wrap around the back of his neck. She doesn’t need much more encouragement than that. Her body moves, slowly grinding and sliding in time with the music, but this time, her soft moans and ragged breaths add to the sound, a sweet symphony that only she can create, and only he can hear.

If he were a lesser man, he’d pull the thin scrap of fabric from between her legs to the side, free his aching cock, and fuck her against the wall of this dark club. But he’s not that man. He’s never been that man. That particular first needs to be perfect, if it ever happens. And while this encounter will leave them both with some lasting memories, it won’t diminish the need they have for each other.

No. If anything, it will only make things worse.

She’s whimpering now, so soft as she rolls her body, her sweet core searching for completion as she sates her need in this dark space. She’s soaked through the fabric of his pants, and it takes everything he has not to reach out and slowly press his fingers into that wet-hot clutch, to feel her heat wrapped around him.

Caleb dreamed about moments like these, though he hated himself for it. Of course, he never thought that she’d seek him out like this. Not in a million years. No matter how many almosts and other stolen moments that happened between them, Caleb just couldn’t bring himself to believe that she’d want someone like him. He’s a sinner, falling at the altar of a sweet angel.

He doesn’t deserve her, but he will take every single moment shared and cling to them despite his feelings. As she moves, her body hot and lithe against his, her lips press against the exposed skin of his chest. Lips give way to teeth—a none-too-gentle rasp against his skin that’s definitely going to leave a mark.

He wants that. Want so much more from her than he should. Finally, he trusts himself enough to touch her, his warm hand lifting from the wall only to thread itself in the length of her hair as she moves. His touch is soft, soothing even, despite how his heart is rattling the cage of his chest, despite how his cock aches.

“That’s it, baby,” he sweetly soothes. “You’re so beautiful. Take what you need from me. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Caleb,” she gasps, a broken, needful-sounding utterance that nearly breaks him.

His head dips, lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he says, “Are you close?”

“I-I yes? I don’t… Maybe?”

“Maybe?” he repeats teasingly.

She pouts at him but doesn’t stop rocking her hips. “I don’t have—Ohh—any experience with this!”

“Tell me I’m not the only person you’ve ever done this with,” he hisses softly before he can stop himself. He’s not mad. Far from it. Only, realizing that she’s never done this with anyone lights a primal spark within him.

This is dangerous. So dangerous, he thinks. And when her words—half gasp, half moan—slip free from between her lips, breathlessly admitting, “I’ve only ever done this with myself.”

Caleb finds himself somewhere between euphoria and despair. His lips press into her brow, eyes rolling back some as he demands, “Say it again.”

That does cause a small hitch in her movements, but she quickly rebounds, finding her pace once more as she leans in and murmurs against his jaw, “I’ve… only ever done this with myself.”

His words are dark, pulled from deep within as he asks, “Who were you thinking of when you did this, Pip��squeak.” That word, his nickname for her, where it once was a barrier between them, now feels more like a secret shared just between the two of them.

Her whole body shudders softly as he draws out the syllables of that word, shifting it into something else entirely.

Something more.

But his girl, she isn’t one to be outdone. The same old push and pull between them made manifest as she admits, “You, you idiot. Who else?”

The soft laugh that rumbles from his lips is entirely too self-satisfied, as is what he says next: “Good.”

He can feel her shaking her head, but instead of relenting, she rolls herself against his thigh—hips canting—as her lips press against his Adam’s apple, only for her tongue to dart out and sweetly lap at that vulnerable spot.

He gulps, and no doubt, she notices, but she’s falling back into a sweet rhythm that will bring her the completion she needs. Her eyes lock with his, hands tight in his hair as her movements become more erratic.

His eyes feel like they don’t know what to focus on next. He wants every single moment of this to imprint on his brain. No, more than that, he needs this to imprint on his soul, so that he’s less likely to forget any detail, no matter what happens to him in the future.

She’s so beautiful to him, so sweet and tender and his. Finally, her eyes roll back, and a decadent moan slips free from between her lush lips.

Fuck, he thinks. Or maybe he says it. He’s not sure what’s real and what’s in his head anymore.

When she comes, it’s his name she utters—high pitched, broken, gasping, needy—and he nearly comes from the pleasure of this moment. Seeing her, feeling her, come apart in his arms and against his body is better than imagined, and coupled with the fact that he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel like this… it’s a lot.

They hold each other as her breath steadies, and she seems reluctant to pull away. He likes that. Likes it even more when she softly admits, “That felt… so good.”

He swallows around the thickness in his throat and tries to ignore the tight feel of his cock in his pants. This is about her. Her needs. The last thing he wants is to push her further than she wants to go, even if he wants to go so, so much further with her.

But he can wait. He’s been waiting… for years. He can wait a little longer. She is more than worth it. Eventually, she peels herself from his body and adjusts her skirt. Her cheeks are still flushed, but her eyes are clear now.

She smiles at him and looks entirely too pleased with herself. “Take me home, Caleb.”

And he does.

Tonight is just another step down their long path together, and it already feels like he’s taken too much. But has he? Or has he given her precisely what she wanted?

Once they’re back at her place, she showers, and he pretends like he’s not thinking about the water cascading over her sweet body, or the way she’d moaned his fucking name as she came on his thigh. Doing his best to calm his overwrought emotions, Caleb waits for his turn to use the shower.

After towel drying her hair, he pulls himself away from her for long enough to bathe. And with her body wash sliding down his abdomen, he takes his cock in hand, bites down on his lip, and fist-fucks himself to the memory of what just happened.

He’s only marginally sated, but Caleb knows things are coming to a head between them. Sweet and innocent is no longer possible with them, but still, even knowing how badly he wants her and that he really should sleep on her cramped couch, he lets her pull him into her bed, anyway.

Rolling over in bed beside him, she tucks her arm around his middle as her head presses into his chest, and he knows that he will do anything she asks of him. Keeping her safe is, of course, paramount, and keeping her happy is an integral part of that initiative.

So, when she breathes a soft, “Sleep with me.”

What else can he do, other than exactly what she wants?

~~~~

Author's Note:

I’m such a kabedon sucker. Like put that shit into my VEINS. These two have ABSOLUTELY wrecking ball crashed into my brain, and like I don’t even go here! NORMALLY I’m not super big on childhood friends to lovers (pseudo sibs whatever you wanna call it). No hate, it’s just not my thing. Then Caleb showed up and was like, oh? Bet. AND FUCK MAN I’M SO GONE. Ugh. Anyway. This isn’t even my main fandom! But if it keeps this shit up, I think it’s gonna be lmao.

AND BEFORE anyone comes after me for using pip-squeak. I USED TO BE LIKE YOU! I thought it was hilarious. I laughed my ass off for a good 30 minutes when I heard him moaning it in that secret times clip, and then, you know what fuckin happened? CALEB HAPPENED! I tripped and fell right into the pit of obsession, and NOW I even find that damn nickname endearing. NEVER MIND when he moans it haha. BE CAREFUL! Or one day you may be just like me!!! Also I think it’s cute as fuck now, given one of the meanings of pip-squeak. *STEPS DOWN FROM THE PULPIT*

Anyway, thanks for reading! I’ve got a few other interludes planned, and I’m taking requests. If you enjoyed, I’d love to hear from you! Or feel free to share with a friend, if you’re lucky enough to have some Caleb-obsessed friends haha. Any mistakes are there because they keep me humble ;)

Banner courtesy of cafekitsune! Page break courtesy of evansyhelp!

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mc-syndrome · 3 days ago

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mc-syndrome · 3 days ago

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watch you entertain.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

synopsis: caleb comes to a few conclusions when you give him a blowjob for the first time.

cw: NSFW and explicit sexual content, mdni. established relationship. mentions of intercourse. oral sex (blowjob). mentions of reader receiving oral sex. hair pulling. imaginative violence (not to reader). petnames (pretty, pipsqueak). mention of oral sex (receiving). he slaps his dick on your face (not sorry). mention of spanking and watching porn. caleb-typical warnings.

wc: 1.7k (drabble....ish????)

author's note: i can't defend myself since 90% of this is word vomit. i'm working on another caleb piece right now, but i needed to get this out of my system. think of it as a precursor piece, like an hors d'oeuvres. also, please disregard any typos. (— - —)|||

The first time Caleb felt your lips on his was magical. The second, third, fourth, and succeeding times were all but surreal.

He had all but convinced himself that your mouth, pressed to his in a flurry of tender touches or desirous cravings, was something he conjured up in the blurry moments of his delusions. You always manage to kiss them away, though.

Later on, you admitted that he was your first kiss.

"When I visited you after you moved out," you said. Hands wrung, your gaze averted downward as you were perched on his lap one evening.

He knows what you're talking about. Remembers its vividness with a startling clarity that would have embarrassed him otherwise, if you didn't share the same sentiments.

By now, you've already kissed and made out in the intimacy of his place beyond finite counting. Had sex with him on whatever surface the two of you could get your hands on. You've long since spoiled him with your presence, both physical and mental. There's a key tucked away in his headspace with your name engraved into the metal. Magnetic and the signification of a special place for you in his heart.

He spoiled you, and now, you spoil him. Neither of you complain about this mutually beneficial arrangement. Why would you?

Though, he can't say he's exactly pleased at the current moment.

"That's it, mmm. You're being so sweet today."

He's watching you, as he always is. You're on your knees before him—you insisted, said it added to the atmosphere despite his crows of indignance at the possibility of them bruising—and your mouth impossibly full of his cock.

You're bare before him, towel discarded on the coffee table with your body damp and he's barely presentable in his uniform. Disheveled and pants undone, he wasn't sure if he was exactly living up to the honorable nature of the clothes he donned. He tried to undress, but you'd been pawing at him the second he walked through the doorstep in nothing but one of the towels he bought you, so his resistance was doomed from the start.

His arms spread on the top of the couch, he tilts his head back and sighs slowly. Hot breath escapes him in time with his Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing a heavy moan that threatens to break free. It takes him a few moments before he peers at your kneeling form once more.

One of his hands cups your cheek, the cool leather swiping over your cheekbone and pushing some of your hair back. Rapt attention on you, whispering soft words of, "that's how you do it" and "a biiit wider, pipsqueak— yeah, like that" with so much appreciation in his tone. Because that's what he feels toward you right now; so much appreciation in his heart belongs to you.

Your tongue was doing sinful licks along the underside of his cock's curve, the girth hefty in your two hands, and your eyes stayed closed in a quiet pleasure. It's expertly done, and the creation of human response as you wrap those pretty pink lips around the tip of him and suckle on it, strings of your saliva leaving sticky wefts along the shaft.

Alternating between peppering his length in kisses and taking a couple inches into your mouth, he's fighting for his fucking life trying to not bust a nut. He's sort of ashamed to have dreamt of this moment for years. You would never let him live it down.

As if the deities couldn't get enough of his suffering, his mind had made the fatal mistake of noting the visible difference of the size of him and your hands and your mouth. It gets him going, that stark contrast and how gently you were treating him.

It's a sight reserved for his eyes alone. Something he wants to pocket and immortalize because it's his and only his. That's the only reason for the powerful plethora of emotions boiling over in his gut. Truly, the only reason.

That's what he tells himself as he observes you with a progressively darkening, clinical, dead-eyed stare that you weren't aware of. A little voice in him nagging at his conscience, spitting words of venom that feeds into the slowly, slowly expanding green-eyed monster rising onto its feet.

"I got a question for you, pretty," he says calmly, deceptively so. Making sure to sound as casual as possible, his gloved hand coming to stroke over your damp, silky hair. You really just couldn't wait to please him, immediately pawing at him when he arrived home and you were fresh out the bath.

You murmur something in reply, lips suctioned to his shaft. Those gorgeous eyes, ones that beheld him with such reverence and adoration in round shape flicker up to his. The vibrations and sight hit him like a freight train and he groans, low and deep. He lets the pleasure settle into his bones.

"You have to answer honestly, 'kay?" He croons down at you, assuring. His facial expression had finally relaxed from its initial, contemplative one. You're happy with this, he notes as you eagerly bob your head, careful to remain quiet.

Good. It'll make hearing your voice all the more worth it. When you said he was your first kiss, he was beyond ecstatic.

Hopefully, you can echo the same thing now.

With an easygoing air betraying that of his positively threatening smile, he asks, "Where'd you learn how to do this?"

There's a sick sense of pleasure in watching you process his words a second too lats. Because you're such an open book with him, aren't you? The way your eyes widen and your lips halt, as if your heart stopped even beating. Even if makes his own blackened heart speed up, its thudding resembling a rabbit's stomping.

Your blinks were a linguistic of their own, and he was the expert in unraveling the lexicology of your existence.

You don't answer fast enough. Or, you don't answer at all. Because now, you're staring him like a child chastised for having their hand in a candy jar—where they weren't supposed to be.

Unfortunately for you, that was more than telling for him.

Caleb doesn't speak. The air is several degrees colder now, like the air circulation was suddenlt cut off, and he drinks in the way anticipation tenses your muscles and your uneven breaths smooth over his skin when you pop your lips off his cock. Those sinful lips that he stole away as his were now glistening in a mix of your spittle and his pre-cum.

He could almost forgive you right now. But, you make the crucial mistake of looking away from him.

"Oh?" It's inquisitive—his tone, yet it has the power of a knife being drawn.

The hand on your head loses its comforting, encouraging air and instead becomes a weight.

A threat.

The visual that's formulating in his head isn't a pleasant one. An image of stained glass shards, blurry yet clear in the vision of you on your knees for another guy. The scattered light capturing your mouth wrapped around the faceless stranger, servicing him the same way you're handling Caleb, seeking that same, sickly sweet tang of validation.

Could it have been that Xavier guy he sees on your phone notifications from time to time? Or is it someone closer to you, from your Association? There's a chance someone else from your childhood reached out to you, maybe after his disappearance. Did they hold you in ways he's been craving to hold you for years?

That's not fair, now, is it? He's worn your hairtie around his wrist for years, disregarded countless scribbled love letters from bystanders, based his little trinkets around those apples you love so much, and spoiled you countless times in his misplaced desire for playing the role of your protector. It simply isn't fair that you sought gratification from a source that wasn't him—because for him, it was always you.

Is it too selfish of him to want your everything?

You don't say anything even as your mouth opens and closes. You're either searching for an excuse, weighing the costs of lying to him at the moment, or you're genuinely floundering for words at the sudden blankness in your head.

He hums again, and it's lower than before. Full of thought and contemplation as his amethyst eyes bore holes into your speechless state. It's full of disappointment and he sees the worry creep into your eyes like a leaking faucet.

Threading his gloved fingers into the tresses of your hair, its smooth leather massaging your scalp, his face softens.

"I guess I did say you should be honest, not fast," he murmurs, laughing to himself quietly.

His lips tilt into a boyish sort of grin, and it's so full of mirth and entertainment that it's easy to process as him diffusing the situation. It works like so, and you're soon tilting your head into his palm and seeking his touch.

In the distance, the kettle in the kitchen screeches like an alarm of what's to come.

Disconcertingly relaxed, his smile seems absolutely sarcastic. A bit sharp at the edges.

"I should make it easier to understand. Let me rephrase it, then."

He pulls your hair. It's one harsh motion and it jerks your head up. A gasp torn from your lips as they fall open, the slight sting shooting through your body with an charged breeze.

"Who did you learn this from?"

He's so used to tasting you before fucking; your sex and his tongue are practically best friends in his eyes. It never once occurred to him to have you suck him off.

He should've been suspicious the second you offered to begin with.

The blood drains from your face some more and he relishes the blank yet alert state your eyes reflect. He's sure your mind is in disarray right now. The feeling is mutual, though you're aware of that too, most likely.

"I have a right to know. I always said that you could come to me if you needed help with anything, right?" It's a rhetorical question. You both know that. You're doomed either way.

You make another breathless noise, and he wants to explore your vocality. Now, how would you sound gagging on him?

"Caleb—"

He shushes you softly and you quiet down in an instant.

"I don't need an answer that isn't related to my question, don't you agree?"

Another rhetorical question as he cocks his head, the gesture mocking.

"You're always tellin' me to be honest and share my thoughts with you. I'm bein' honest now. Everything should be mutual, so, answer my question. I might even go easy on you."

You're totally panicking now, aren't you?

His other hand wraps around the base of his cock and he slaps the shaft onto your cheek, then smearing his leaking tip over your glistening lips, a thoughtful smile playing on his own as if he were offering you candy.

"And depending on how you answer, I'm either taking you over my knee while you spell their name out, or you'll be showing me exactly what pornos you've been watching without my knowledge. So, what's it gonna be?"

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mc-syndrome · 4 days ago

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“You’re only safe when you’re by my side”

I’m eating the angst lore so good AUGh🍎

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mc-syndrome · 4 days ago

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Their Favorite Underwear (On You) —♡ LADS Headcanons

—♡Summary: They certainly have interesting preferences, that's for sure. —♡Tags: NSFW, suggestive, sex implied, afab!reader, no pronouns used, fingering, panty sniffing/licking —♡A/N: done staring at this I'm throwing it out into the wild —♡ masterlist

—♡ Caleb

Caleb’s favorite pair of underwear on you is somewhat an innocent pick. A worn out pair of cotton panties you’ve had since high school.

They have some kind of pattern—either horizontal stripes, flowers, a repeating print of the cookie monster—doesn’t matter, he loves it all.

They remind him of simpler times—laundry day when you were younger—and how they’d get caught up in his own load by accident. You’d flush bright red when he stopped by your door to drop them off, but he’d just throw his head back with a laugh and tell you it's fine.

He’s never told you how close he came to pocketing them instead.

In the present, he’s found himself on laundry duty again. The colonel is dumping your basket of dirty clothes into the washer when a familiar pair of cotton panties fall in.

He doesn’t even bother looking around; Caleb reaches for them, breath hitching when he realizes they’re the same pair from before. He can’t believe you still have them. You really ought to buy some new clothes…

Something dark—hot—coils in his belly when he turns the gusset inside out and lifts the fabric to his trembling lips.

It smells divine—a little on the tangy side, but he’ll make sure you drink more water from here on out.

Then his tongue finally laps at the inner lining, and Caleb’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head.

His hips jerk against the washing machine just thinking about sinking his tongue into your actual—

Your voice abruptly floats down the hall, some question he can barely hear, and Caleb tells you he’ll be right there.

Perhaps he will pocket these for later, after all…

—♡ Xavier

Xavier’s favorite pair of underwear on you…is actually his own.

His boxer briefs are basically yours at this point.

When you sleep over and need a change of clothes, he just lets you borrow his; which is how you end up in an oversized shirt and boxer briefs in the first place.

Seeing you in his clothes is a thrill of its own, but seeing you in his underwear?

It’s an entirely new level of intimacy that has his ears burning red and his slow heart skipping a beat.

You wouldn’t wear just anyone’s underwear to bed, you’re wearing his.

He gets oddly clingy when you do, sliding in behind you in bed and nuzzling your shoulder as you scroll through your phone.

You make some comment about a post you saw, but he’s hardly listening. Instead, his hand is sliding down your hip, stroking the fabric of his underwear and the heat of your skin. It brings a soft smile to his lips.

Xavier can’t help but think the slit of his boxer briefs is silly on you, sliding his fingers inside to gently stroke your pubes. It’s usually innocent, he just likes the texture.

But the hitch of your breath darkens his gaze, and Xavier gently coaxes you to continue scrolling as his hand sinks lower…

He hums in response to your little moan, fingers curling up into your slick heat. His other hand reaches around to take the phone out of your faltering grip and slams it against the nightstand.

Xavier’s selfish, he admits—he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else while you’re wearing his clothes, his underwear…

You need to borrow another pair of boxer briefs by the time he’s done with you.

—♡ Zayne

Zayne’s favorite pair of underwear on you is not one you expected—thongs. He’s secretly crazy for them. Well, that might be an overstatement—but he enjoys the sight of you in them very much.

You’re surprised to learn about Zayne’s preference, though he doesn’t readily disclose it at first. You have to feign trouble picking between two sets of underwear first, and shove your phone into his face for an opinion.

“...The one on the right.” The cool response is only betrayed by a fervent blush on his cheeks.

He likes slipping his fingers under the thin string, teasing and tugging. It leaves very little to the imagination; straight to the point.

Your order comes in, and Zayne secretly watches you slide them up your legs as you both get ready for a banquet. It’s all his mind keeps wandering back to throughout the night.

Not only are you wearing underwear he picked out, but you’re wearing them to mingle with his colleagues. A rather distracting thought, isn’t it?

At one point during the night, you bend over to grab something, and the lack of a panty line reminds Zayne all over again what you’re sporting underneath.

He approaches calmly, interrupting a conversation with his colleagues by wrapping an arm around your waist.

His excuse to leave early is well thought out—you suspect he’s had it in mind since arriving—but you’re barely listening when his hand wanders low.

It slides down your backside, and he absently thumbs the string of your thong through the fabric of your dress.

…The car ride home is a short one, to say the least.

—♡ Sylus

If you asked Sylus, he’d say he prefers you in no underwear at all.

But, if he had to choose, he’s rather fond of a simple red lace. Comfortable, practical, sexy.

Not to mention, red is absolutely your color. The fact that it’s his too is merely a…happy coincidence.

When he’s stocking up your closet in the N109 zone, Sylus makes sure to order only the best luxury brands exclusively in various shades of red.

The idea of you sauntering around base in his color is enough to make him purr at the sight of you, even when your underwear isn’t visible.

He makes a game out of guessing what pair you have on; is it the scarlet one with bows? Or perhaps the strappy maroon?

Sylus finds out at dinner; you’re laughing at some ridiculous story when you uncross your legs, and there’s a flash of vermilion underneath your skirt.

The one with heart cutouts? My my, you only wear that one when you want something…

His eyes roam you up and down as you continue your story, but you stumble over your words when a swirling red mist drags your chair closer to his.

You were quite bold for wearing such a bright color in public, and if anyone other than him was to catch sight of it…

Well, we can’t have that, can we?

Your breath hitches when his hand roams your thigh, smug eyes never leaving yours. His calloused fingers ghost the hem of your skirt, and your words trail off in anticipation of what’s to come next.

Sylus grips the fabric and tugs your skirt…down.

Your face burns as he leans back with a chuckle, “You were saying?

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel’s favorite pair of underwear? Brazilian panties, next question.

They sit high above your hip bones while accentuating the curve of your tummy; absolutely divine.

Of course, you look divine in everything; hell, you’d look perfect in only a seashell to cover your modesty. But something about the aesthetic of these panties, specifically, gets him insanely hot and bothered.

He brings you back gifts from his trip overseas, but he flushes and fervently denies having anything to do with the three pairs of panties tucked behind the body lotions and skincare.

Rafayel quickly changes his tune when you suggest modelling them for him, though.

That’s how you end up changing into them right then and there, a minty lace pair with a little satin rose sewn to the front. You rejoin Rafayel, who’s been waiting patiently on his bed.

Rafayel can’t speak, only tugs the back of your thigh closer as he swallows thickly.

Your pubes peek out the sides due to the nature of the design, and you make an offhand comment about shaving the next time you wear them. Rafayel immediately shakes his head—as if offended—and grips the sides of your hips, thumbs hiking the side wings further up.

He flushes, and his nostrils flare right before he lowers his head to lick a stripe up your lace front.

His tongue burns through the fabric, and the Lemurian lets out a shuddering breath against your stomach. You barely register the chill down your spine when he licks you again, this time his teeth catching on the waistband.

You never get to try the other two pairs on for him…

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