#Lads Rafayel

[sayangrafayel]

LADS react to you asking them to set you up with someone else

This was a fun request. I might slip some dynamic duo rivalry here.. hmm.. maybe this is the same universe as loft talk. This is pre relationship prank!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus (Rafayel)

"Hey, Sy. Can you set me up with one of your roommates?" "I don't have roommates." "? What do you mean. You have four roommates. I want the artist!" "No I absolutely do not. What artist?"

Would NEVER let you meet Rafayel, no matter what it takes. Rarely ever bring you back to the loft anymore.

Considered moving out of the loft and everything but stopped once you tell him it's a prank.

Xavier (Jeremiah)

"Xavie, is Jeremiah seeing anyone?" "I don't know a Jerry." "Jeremiah." "I don't know who that is either."

He gets SOOOO jealous (that's why we like him)

Why would you ask him to set you up with someone else. He's right there. He's perfect for you in every way. 🥺🥺🥺 - Xavier, probably

Rafayel (Sylus)

"Can you set me up with one of your friends?" "I don't have friends." "Yes you do! That Fruit guy breathtaking!" "You know what else is breathtaking? If I were to hold his head underwater." "Sorry?" "I said I am also breathtaking!"

He fish. Fish forgor stuff. Roommate? Who? Sylus? Thomas? Who???? What are you talking about?

Becomes extra mean to Sylus the next day and Sylus was so confused as to why is his bestfriend who is not his bestfriend seems to hate him more than usual!?

Zayne (Greyson)

"Dr. Zayne, can you set me up with Greyson?" "Why?" "Because.. I want to?" "His name is Doctor Greyson, and do you really want to..?" "Yes please! Set me up with Dr. Greyson!" "...." "Zayne?" "If that's what you want."

I don't think he's gonna try to stop you nor does he realize you're testing the waters to see how he feels about you, defeatedly gives Greyson your number, but Greyson was so confused because why would he hit up Zayne's girlfriend???

"She's your girl, Zayne." "She is not." "Yes she is, she's just testing to see how you'd react, dummy. Now go and actually ask her out."

Caleb (Gideon)

Before you start pranking him, you prayed for Gideon's safety.

"Caleb, can you set me up with-" "He's gay." "I haven't even said a name!" "Yeah, everybody around me is gay. I'm their ally." "Caleb!!!"

He'd frown and keep telling you why would you need anybody else when you can have HIM. He's the one who knows you the best! He knows how to make you smile! He's 100% your boyfriend material! ���

[poisonf0rest]

Omg all the overstim in your sylus and raf works 😫🤤 makes me wonder if you have headcannons about how the other boys would be 🫣

can I make you lose your mind? (caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne)

♱⋅── nearly 7k of the lads boys just losing their minds (and their control) when it comes to you. art by @/osk_purinnumee on x

♱⋅── WARNINGS: mdni, overstimulation, oral, pussy drunk boys, daddy kink (caleb), bicep choking (caleb), "just the tip" (sylus), size kink (sylus), cunnilingus (xavier), Lemurian heat (rafayel), orgasm denial (rafayel), breeding kink (rafayel), slight exhibisionism (zayne)

Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully

How could Caleb deny you? 

How could he when you come to him crying big crocodile tears, sobbing how no matter what you do you can’t seem to cum, how you think you must be broken, how no one would ever want such a hard-to-please woman in their bed. 

As if he hasn’t spent years watching you, waiting for you, knowing damn well that the problem isn’t you.

So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?

He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.

Or, tried to.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you. 

Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you. 

Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.

"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"

Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs. 

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.

He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.

It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing. 

“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”

It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.

“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”

For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop. 

He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin. 

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight. 

“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?” 

A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time. 

“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.” 

Caleb just snaps.

His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.

"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust. 

"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."

It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.

"Caleb—"

"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.

Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close. 

Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream. 

“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.

Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.

“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

You’re going to have to call in sick for the week. 

Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight. 

It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again. 

“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”

Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.

"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.

He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets.  "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."

“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly.  “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”

Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need— I need—”

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping. 

Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.

Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.

"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please—”

You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"

"Yes."

The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.

"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you. 

You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed. 

And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough.  “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.” 

Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you. 

"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.

Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.

"I promise," he gasps,  "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?" 

You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock. 

“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."

"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"

"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."

The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"Oh, fuck."

"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.

"Yes, please, please, please—"

And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.

Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap. 

Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.

"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”

Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again. 

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”

Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."

He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.

"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”

And you do.

The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.

"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."

You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.

"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.

"Fuck, Raf...”

"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."

You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.

You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.

The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity. 

"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.

You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”

Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more. 

“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”

You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction. 

The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again. 

You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging. 

“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!” 

Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.

“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.” 

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”

You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”

Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock. 

“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth.  He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”

It’s humiliating how right he is.

Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him. 

“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm. 

Or rather, he would have. 

But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.

“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe. 

Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”

Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—

"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.

Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.

"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."

A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him. 

Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.

He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache. 

Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.

The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.

A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.

You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long. 

His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.

"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger. 

"Xavier—"

He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart. 

You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.

“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”

Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.

Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon. 

But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this. 

It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind. 

This, however, was not what you had in mind.

"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.

Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow. 

"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."

Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"

"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."

Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."

You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth. 

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra. 

He wants to ruin you even more. 

Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit. 

When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door. 

Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top. 

The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever. 

“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.

“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”

Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.

The door handle rattles.

Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of ice crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control. 

He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.

"Zayne, your Evol—"

"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.

Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.

 “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you. 

Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.

You can still hear muffled voices beyond the door, a stark reminder of the risk, of how dangerously close you are to being caught. But it only makes you cling to him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whisper, “Then let me take care of you, Doctor.”

[dollwrites]

ᴅᴏᴏʀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ goonette isekai! ( 7k follower event )

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, pwp, creampie, cum play, titty sucking, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

Rafayel is a creampie addict.

whether it’s because he loves the way you look with his cum leaking out of your freshly fucked hole or because it’s his way of claiming your body, marking you as his mate, you didn’t know for sure. the only thing you could be certain of is, whenever he started to twitch and throb inside of you; whenever his balls drew up tight, and his ragged panting melted into a needy chanting of your name on a mindless loop, that he was going to cum inside you.

“Raf, ffffuck!” you crooned, breathless and undulating on the mattress beneath him. your back arched up from the surface to push your chest flush to his face, your right hand buried in his mauve tendrils so deep that you could feel the beads of sweat as they drench his scalp, and the heat of his fever transferring deep into your palm. you were gripping those sticky locks, holding on to them for some semblance of control as he rutted into you with wild abandon, his head dipped low to suck on your swell, whilst his hand fondled with other, his thumb mimicking the way his tongue flicked at your pebbled nipple, swiping over the taut flesh and nudging the little bud from every angle.

it was this lavishing of affection, paired with the rapid-fire, shallow pumping into your core, that had your eyes crossing with unadulterated pleasure, and your body trembling as you drifted closer and closer to a release. “I’m getting close, baby…” you half-plea, rocking your hips up to meet him in a sloppy, slick joining. if Rafayel was anything, he was a skilled lover. he knew that you didn’t need to be stuffed full on every occasion, and so he experimented with how many inches to fuck into you each time you laid together. tonight, though his thrusts were quick and greedy, he was only giving you half of his length at a time, letting the swollen, leaking tip of his cock head bully the spongy cluster of nerves that made up your g-spot until you were shaking and sputtering, instead of fucking you deep and steady.

“Yeah?” he asked upon prying his mouth away with a wet pop. his voice husky and low, and saliva glistening against the pink lower tier of his kiss-swollen couplet. his own complexion, though typically porcelain, had taken on a dusky, rosé glow, especially against the apples of his cheeks, the tips of his ears, and the expanse of his chiseled chest. his mouth, though still parted and panting out puffs of hot breath against your hardened nipple, curved into a strained smile as his eyes searched your countenance, equally lovedrunk. “Wanna cum with me, pretty girl?” he asked, his eyes darkened as he buries his face between the valley of your tits, breathing in the scent of the sweat oozing from your pores. his eyelids fluttered as he drank it in, like a man intoxicated, and you felt the warm, bumpy surface of his tongue flat against your flesh to lap at that essence. “Oh, fuck, tell me,” he murmured, muffled, as the lower quarter of his face disappears into your cleavage, but his eyes gaze up at you, the purple hues within them dim and stormy. “Tell me that you want me to make you finish while I cum in your warm, little pussy.”

you nod, eagerly, your voice breaking out of desperation as you tug on his hair, unsure of whether to pull him up to kiss his lips or smother him between your tits. “Y—yes, Rafayel! Please, make me cum with you!”

you’d hardly gotten the beg out before Rafayel was responding. sitting back on his haunches, he allowed almost every inch to slip from your clutching heat— until only his the bulbous head remained notched just beyond the threshold. you mewled at the lack of fullness in your depths, but your disappointment was soon replaced with pleasure. Rafayel allowed his hands, soft yet strong, to slip under your hips and drag your body close, until your bottom rested on the slope of his legs, keeping your lower half elevated on his lap. “C’mere, baby…” he breathed out, one hand splaying out against your lower belly, fingers stroking beneath your navel, allowing his thumb the reach he needed to paw at your clit in tight, concise circles. your own hands, that had initially reached out for him when he shifted positions, now fell back against the pillow your head rested on, fisting handfuls of it, unneeded, while Rafayel tended to your body. you moaned his name, your head tilting up so you were staring at the ceiling, brows furrowed, focusing wholly on his perfect ministrations.

“You look so cute like this,” Rafayel murmured, more to himself than to you, his free hand gripping the girth of his cock tight. he was still slick with your juices, and he used that to his advantage, pumping the exposed inches instead of plunging into you, to the rhythm same rhythm he assaulted your clit. the treatment elicits of moan from his parted lips, that bubbles up from deep within his throat. “— squirming and needy, chasing your high for me. Come on, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

a few more encouraging words and Rafayel’s thumb running laps over your button is all that you need before you catch that orgasm you were so desperately chasing. you hear his voice, as soon as he saw you were about to be engulfed, whisper harshly, “Look at me,” and you were barely able to obey, your eyes flitting to his face just in time to glaze over. you maintained the unfocused eye contact, stars forming in your peripherals, and Rafayel doesn’t let up, coaxing you with furious strumming on your swollen clit to ride out the orgasm he’s giving you. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, knowing damn well the only response you could give him was a strangled yip and a half nod, his breathless smile widening, “Yeah? I know, baby, I know. I feel it, too. I’m cumming,” he growled, pumping himself erratically a few more times before he spilled himself inside you. warmth seeps in, spreads through your shallow core, and dribbles out in thick, streamers when Rafayel pulls his sated, softening cock from you. your cunt clenches, one last stitch effort to keep him anchored inside you, which ultimately pushes another rope of his creamy release out of your freshly-fucked body.

Rafayel sat back on his haunches for several moments, panting, with his twitching cock now draped, flaccid, over his sweat-sheened thigh, as he gazed down at his handiwork— his hands finding your trembling shape. he felt along the flare of your hips, up over your waist, his thumbs gently massaging the flesh there as he eased you out of your aftershocks with gentle fondling. “Come back to me, pretty girl, you’re so cute when you’re cumdrunk.” he murmured, drawing shapes over your heated flesh as he coaxed you back from the brink. his palms pressed against your sides, before careening downward, over your lower belly. “I left this pretty pussy all messy again, didn’t I?” he teased, applying enough pressure on your lower belly to force more of his cum to spill out of you and on to the sheets. you whimper at the sensation, your toes curled, and you nod. Rafayel only chuckles, angling his hand so his pointer and middle finger, slender and deft in their movements, can spread open your puffy netherlips. his breath, which had mostly recovered, left him in a soft, awed gasp as he admired the way his cum painted your folds, leaving them sticky and claimed. his cock twitches on his thigh. though hypersensitive, it jumped, as if waking up to the sight.

Rafayel sighs, rolling his eyes, acting as though the mere re-hardening of his cock was burdensome. “Can’t ever just go one time, can we?” he asked, sarcastically, quirking a brow as he stares up at you.

“You make it sound like it’s my fault,” you counter breathlessly, your hands finally unlatching from the pillow. your muscles are sore, but you run your fingers along the shape of his shoulders as he positions himself to take you again.

“Of course it’s your fault. You look too fuckable when you’ve got my cum oozing out of you.” Rafayel rasps, guiding his now-ready cock back into your sloppy hole. it slips inside easily, his cum frothing around it as he almost instantly falls back into his previous pace, bracing you in place when his hands grip the roundest part of your hips. “Fuck, yes…” he stutters a bit, pushing his cock deep enough to hilt it once, before dragging it out slow. you cry out; the nerves in your sex already heightened, so this new round of fucking feels almost statically-charged. his eyes list downwards, taking in the way his previous release cocktailed with your arousal coats his cock in rings as he pulls out, marking the depth of his thrust. “And besides, you take me in even better the second time.” he purrs with a contented sigh.

[illou-sainte]

RAFAYEL BDAY SEX NOW

Happy birthday...to you!

pairings: rafayel x reader

cw: unprotected sex, foodplay, missionary, lots of cum, teasing, overstimulation

"ngh- h-hah--, baby 'lemme h-hear you sing it.." Rafayel breathed out, hands gripping your hips tightly as he pounds his gritty cock inside of your poor throbbing pussy. You can't help but be overstimulated with his pace--you're a mess. Hair disheveled, drooling, tears streaming, eyes rolling while you blabber nonsense to your lover.

Rafayel adores this sight of you--the way the party hat tilts to the side of your head, your chest and lips smeared with the icing of the cake you bought him. You're adorable.

"P-please..baby..." He pleaded, hand reaching as it cups your cheek. His thumb gently brushing your tears away--you're so beautiful, even with this state. You pursed your lips as you both locked eyes--maintaining eye contact, while he continued on pumping his gritty cock in and out of your drooling pussy.

Even with situation like this--Rafayel wasn't ashamed to yearn and beg for you. That's one thing that isn't good. Because, once he's in control--you'll never escape.

You can hear gushing of his cum and your juices mixed together inside as it oozes out of your tight hole--he's been painting your walls white many times already, you've lost count. Filling you up to the brim with ropes after ropes of his loading hot cum. And it doesn't miss a chance to make your body tremble beneath him--he knows how to push your buttons so well.

His thumb gently moved to your plumped lips as it touches the icing he smeared--wiping it to the side and brought it to his lips and licked his thumb clean. Earning a soft grunt from you as you stare at him.

"Baby..." He looks at you with his pleading eyes--filled with love and lust. Eyes that you can never say no to. You feel yourself giving up--you know damn well he isn't taking no for an answer.

Your lips quivered and you slowly blink, feeling your mind going blank as it becomes hazy. Rafayel smiled at you and grabbed your hand as he intertwined it with his--placing a soft kiss over your hand.

Your heart flutters in awe as you bit your lower lip--preparing yourself. This will be the last time, you thought--but, he'll surely brought this up in the morning.

"Ha....H-happy..." You muttered, face flustered while Rafayel's ears perked and his cheeks began to redden. His lips can't help but twitch a smile as he watches you struggle to blurt out words while he's still deep balls inside of you--makes him want to tease you even more.

"b-birth...day...."

"What was t-that, baby?" He hum, hand gripping the flesh of your plushed thigh.

"....H-happy....birt--ah!" You let out a loud moan as Rafayel cuts you off when he pulled out his gritty cock out of your drooling pussy and pushed it right back in one go. The action made your body twitch as your back arches, toes curling while you mutter curses at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle and leaned closer to you.

"You don't...h-hah-...want the..birthday boy to be sad...right.?.." He whispered to your ear, breath hitting your skin as it makes you hitch in response. You quickly shook your head and he leaned back. He continues his pace and lets you wrap your arms around his back as your nails dig deeper through the flesh of his skin earning a soft grunt from him.

"ngh- come..on, pretty girl...." He grunted, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he started leaving hot kisses and hickeys on your skin. Making your aching pussy throb as it tightens around his gritty cock inside. He fills you up so good--not leaving any space in your tight pussy.

You can't help but tighten your legs around his hips as he continued drilling his cock in your poor pussy. The heat between the both of you rising while you felt your climax building up through your drooling pussy--preparing to release.

"hah- please...too much! I cant--!.."

"ngh- let me hear you...let me h-hear that sweet voice, baby.." He cooed, moving his lips to your face as he plants kisses everywhere. You cried out while he kissed your tears away--you're definitely left with no choice.

"please...baby..."

"ngh-...! Ah-! Happy.. birth...day! To..ah!" Oh, he's definitely doing this in purpose. Cutting you off with every thrust his gritty cock gives your aching pussy? He's definitely going to sleep on the couch after this.

"hmm....hah- what was that?..." He joked, resting his forehead against your while you glare at him and he chuckled.

"I-I swear to- ah!" You moaned out, as he gives you another big thrust--his angry red tip kissing the lips of your womb as it hits. Making your eyes widen, as you can feel your building up climax bursting as it releases--cumming as you squirt. Letting your high release like a waterfall, hitting his pelvis as it drips to the length of his gritty cock.

Rafayel pants against you and leaned back. Slowly pulling his gritty cock out of your aching pussy, his hot cum leaks out of your poor hole. Ozzing out as it traced down to your plushed thighs to the covers of his bed under, leaving a nasty mess.

You both were a mess, panting heavily while trying to catch your breath. He brushed strands of his hair sticking out of his sweaty forehead as he rests his hardened cock against your clit--earning a soft whimper from you when he started rubbing his length against it.

"Let's continue this in the bathroom, want to hear that sweet voice echoed just for me..."

Maybe he'll make this an "Lemurian tradition" now.

Not proofread. masterlist

[myntrose]

Like- like like me??

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ in which you ask the l&ds men if they like you.

a/n: this was so funny to write. not meant to be angst at all, it's all fluff and crack

content warning: suggestive, so mdni. Crack, fluff, again suggestive. Reader is in established relationships with the guys, they just want to screw with them LMAO

ft: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus x reader separately

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ zayne

𓆩✧𓆪 xavier

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 rafayel

𓅂:.｡. slyus

@myntrose on tumblr - do no copy or translate

[ducklingpia]

Who in lads and why it is Rafayel

yes & no by natalie wee

[beechu-beechu]

Selkie Rafayel AU ! 🦭🦭🦭

Instead of being kidnapped and whisked away from the ocean like the folklore, he just bothers and willingly gives up his selkie skin to the poor horrified and confused local who he's horribly smitten with

[muqingslover]

Hi! If you're open to requests, what would you think the lads men (or just one guy of your choice!!) would do in the following scenario?

They are out with mc when they run into mc's ex, and mc's ex says, "Damn, your taste in men changed a lot" in like a condescending manner. (Or something along those lines)

I hope you have a great time!! I love reading your stories!!

[ Thank you for the request! <3 I did a little of everyone so enjoy! ]

Sylus

"Your tastes sure have changed since the last time I saw you." is the first thing that actually catches his attention during the otherwise boring conversation.

Sylus is not an overly jealous person simply because he is very secure of his love for you and how good he is to you. The only thing your ex does is greatly amuse him because the difference is too great to even be considered fair.

"Naturally. You surely don't expect someone to eat trash forever, do you?" He would answer for you in a smooth voice while he towers over the both of you with that confident expression of his on his face.

He feels almost sorry for you, who had to make do with such men, but, not to worry, he's here now and he's not going anywhere.

Xavier

Taunting his jealous side is the same as playing with fire while knowing you're going to get burn.

"Is that the type of guy you prefer?" He'd ask the second the two of you are alone again. His hands pin you to the closest surface so you're unable to run from the conversation and he keeps his face very close to yours to watch for even the smallest reactions "Do you like him more than me?"

My advice? Say no as quickly as possible and give him a kiss to shush him otherwise you're in for the long, loooooong haul. Xavier is not easily soothed once he's worked up and he WILL hold grudges.

The next time your ex shows up he is quick to cut the conversation before they can even get a good morning in and makes it clear you belong to him now.

Rafayel

"What did you just say?" His head never whipped back faster mans almost twisted his own neck.

Arguably the most aggressive per se because he's SO obvious. To him it's just staggering you ever went out with anyone else, especially a thing like that, and that it's here, again, approaching you. Does it not see him? He's right there for god's sake!

"She's on duty so she can't talk to you right now. Or ever." He'd grab you by the shoulder as he sized the guy up and down with the most condescending and judgmental look on his face before scoffing. what a diva

He'll nag at you later for being "distracted while on the job" and say you're supposed to pay attention to him at all times otherwise how will his dear bodyguard protect him? Please be more mindful!

Caleb

It was a school reunion party when your old high school sweetheart came up to the both of you.

"Oh hey, I remember you! Weren't you the guy who got kicked out for cheating on his graduation exam?" He says with an innocent grin on his face knowing full well the guy is a deadbeat and making sure others heard it too.

It's canon he kept track of all crushes MC had while growing up and I'm sure he goes out of his way to show you their bad points so you won't even consider looking their way.

In some cases, Caleb had to get rid of them by manipulating things behind the scenes if they didn't take the hint and this one was one of those cases.

The guy was struggling with his grades and who is he to deny a helping hand? All he did was slip the sheet of answers to the test without anyone knowing, it's not his fault if the idiot accepted it knowing it was against the rules. Such an angel, isn't he.

This interaction will lead to him being even more territorial around you and he wants you to just stay home with him where it's safe. Pretty please?

Zayne

He will step in if they are bothering you by pretending he needs your immediate help in the office but otherwise Zayne merely listening in the background.

Once they're gone the silence is so loud.

You can basically feel that he's bothered by something, but he won't open his mouth even if you ask him about it because it's 'petty and childish'.

"Are you happy with me?" He'd eventually ask you after stewing in his own thoughts for the day. What if your tastes hadn't changed and you were just too nice to tell him he's not doing enough? That he is not enough.

Please reassure this sweet man that you're happy in the relationship. Especially so if your ex is the type that is super extroverted and easy to get along with since that's one of the points he struggles with the most.

The problem goes away on its own after some good quality time together and affectionate words.

[roselias-posts]

cr: @Evil_fishie on X

[unintentionalseductress]

9K notes for this? Thank you guys so much!

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[artofelicia]

surgeon's hand

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples, pt. 6

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you and caleb ride the coelum express. a nightmare occurs. caleb and you head off on a work trip.

word count: 8.0k words

warnings: not proofread!

author's note: hi everyone! i just wanna say that pt.6 is lowkey like a filler episode! parts 7/8 are going to be plot oriented! they'll most likely be released next weekend! this one just needs to get us to the next angsty part ;)

content warning: reader touches caleb's crotch, mentions of cunnilingus/hickeys, lmk if i forgot anything else

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer

want to be added to the taglist? click here!

The expression on your face is absolutely adorable to Caleb. He loves the way your lips part, the shock and awe hidden behind your dark sunglasses, and he adored how you held onto the greasy breakfast sandwich just a little tighter when the realization that it is him at your side finally hit you. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to form some snarky remark or comment about how much you hate him or that he should throw himself off of the Coelum Express.

Sure, it is tiring to hear the constant negative comments, but it’s well worth it if he can spend another hour between your legs. Even losing more of his memory is worth it to see your face.

“I’m…” you begin to speak, voice falling off, “I’m too hungover to deal with you right now.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow. He watches as you stand from your seat, shimmying past him. You aim for the doors but they close as room as you step into the aisle. The train rolls back before pushing forward.

You lose your balance but Caleb is quick to grab you. His large hands hold your sides. The Coelum Express’ pace quickens. The Colonel helps guide you back to your seat, helping you sit back down.

You readjust in your seat and hold the sandwich closer to your chest. Caleb hums in amusement, holding back a laugh at your failed escape. Slowly, you turn your back to him, revolving in the plush blue seat to face out the window instead of him. Caleb leans with you, trying not to lose sight of your face.

You stare out the train’s window. The breakfast sandwich stares at you, the perfectly cooked egg glistening in the morning sun, the lustful sight of the perfect breakfast meal making your stomach rumble. You take another slow and deliberate bite. You swallow the mouthful then turn back to Caleb.

His head is rolled back, chin tilted up, eyes closed. He lets out a quiet sigh. He spreads his legs open and readjusts his position, hands resting in his lap.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“I have a question.”

“And I have an answer,” Caleb opens his eyes. His head falls to the side, purple eyes landing on you. His dark hair falls onto his forehead. Your arm twitches. Desperation fills your body; you fight the urgent desire to keep his face clear so you can memorize the intricate details of his face.

Caleb’s gaze softens. Your heart pounds in your chest, making your ears ring.

Why does he always have to look at you like that? Doesn’t he know how much it effects you?

Butterflies erupt in your stomach but you push away the feeling, clearing your throat. You break away from his gaze, looking at the train’s surprisingly clean floor, before turning your head back to him.

“Why are you here?” you ask. Caleb’s brows furrow for a split second before relaxing. He tilts his body towards you, reaching out to slip the sunglasses off of your face once again.

“I went to your house to check in on you but you weren’t there, so…” a smile flashes across his face, the man nudging your side, “I came here to make sure my pretty bird was okay…aaaaaaand I needed a ride back to Skyhaven. I killed two birds with one stone.”

Your lips press into a thin line and you stare at him with an expression that can only say one thing: really?

“You’re a Colonel…don’t you have your own, oh I don’t know, jet or plane or whatever to take you to to and from Skyhaven?” You lean into him, eyes narrowed, ready to pull apart whatever story he comes up with.

To your surprise, Caleb leans in, your noses just barely grazing over each other. You gulp and stay where you are, not wanting to back down. The man in front of you lets out a soft chuckle. He reaches up and messes with your hair.

“That’s for official business only, pretty bird,” he winks. You gasp and pull away, looking at your reflection in the window to try and salvage your hair.

It’s of no use. You might as well accept defeat now than go through more embarrassment that is bound to happen.

A yawn floats from your mouth and you’re quick to cover it with a cough but not quick enough to hide it from Caleb. He inches closer to you and flips away the small arm rest that separates the two chairs. You glance at him, another yawn threatening to escape you. You swallow it and avoid his gaze, taking another bite out of the delicious breakfast sandwich.

“You must be tired. You can use my shoulder as a pillow,” his words are oh so tempting. You could use a nap right now, even though it is still the early morning. The ride back to Skyhaven is a solid couple of hours…

Caleb watches you with a steady eye. You are completely zoned out and in a whole other world that he wishes he could be a part of. He wishes he can crawl inside your mind and pick apart your thoughts one by one, fully getting to know and understand how you think and feel so he knows exactly what to do to make you fall in love with him.

When your eyes finally meet his after a moment’s contemplation, you give him a shy nod. Without wasting another awkward second, knowing that you just need to get it over with, you close the gap between you two and rest your head on his shoulder. Unconsciously, you place your hand on his chest and get comfortable on his side.

Caleb’s breath gets caught in his throat, heart racing. He wraps an arm around your shoulders. It slips between your back and the chair when you readjust yourself, his hand now trapped on your side. His fingers rest against your waist, fiddling with the leftover fabric of your hoodie.

His heart beat is strong. Loud. You find peace in its rhythm and close your eyes, syncing your heartbeat to his. You also didn’t mind his hand staying on your side, the warmth bringing you comfort as you slowly slip into sleep on his side. Your eyes feel heavy, breathing slow, and your hoodie keeps the warmth in your side just right. It is the perfect conditions for sleep to take you away.

What’s that saying about your inner child feeling safe with someone? That a person is able to fall asleep quicker with someone they feel safe with? So, you guess that doesn’t hurt that you feel safe with him too, knowing that if anything bad were to happen that Caleb would stop it before it even got to you.

Maybe it’s the first sign of your heart actually opening up to him. Could a piece of you actually want him to hold space in your heart and mind? Or do you just like the attention from him?

You like to think, though, that you’re using him for his body heat and weird obsession with you. You know that he’d give you the world if you asked, so why not use him as a pillow?

Caleb watches the top of your head. Your hoodie is a faded red color and it somehow matches the hot pink sweatpants you have on. Those gemstones must feel like a bitch to sit on. So uncomfortable and so inconvenient for your sleep. He quietly huffs and pulls you closer to him.

Caleb takes the half-eaten breakfast sandwich out from your hands and wraps it back up, tucking it away in his backpack. He reaches over your body and pulls down the train’s blinds with ease so the sun doesn’t interfere with your sleep and wake you up.

Whenever you readjust on him, Caleb makes for sure that he molds to what you want, his hands keeping you tucked firmly against the train seats, not allowing you to slip off and onto the floor.

A yawn leaves his lips. The comfort of your body infects him with slumber of his own. He’s more hesitant to fall asleep though, fighting it away as the Coelum Express slips through the clouds at a tilted angle, your weight fully relying on him now.

He switches his position and tries his best not to wake you. Your sleep goes by unaffected and he celebrates the silent victory with a yawn and slow blink. He glances out the window, peering at the clouds that absorb the sun’s rays of light from behind the train’s shade. The sky is at the perfect shade of blue. It’s perfect conditions to go flying. Caleb looks down at you, a small smile spreading across his face. He pushes away loose strands of hair out of your face, tucking the hair behind your ear.

Before he knows it, he’s fallen under the depths of slumber, falling in beside you.

Caleb wishes that it was you who tapped him out at his DAA graduation. He could see the image so clearly.

The sky is just as blue as it is now with a few fluffy, white clouds hanging in the sky. He’s been standing in the summer heat for hours as the ceremony ticked by, going through the motions and chants that he and his platoon memorized. His purple eyes tried to find you in the crowd, to see where you were hiding in the bleachers the base set up for the ceremony.

Were you in the pink floral dress? No! You’re in the jean jacket holding a large bouquet of flowers! No…that isn’t you either. Mayne you’re wearing all black with the cool sunglasses!

Anticipation would have bubbled up inside of his chest. When Caleb finally took his place among other DAA graduates their uniforms crisp and clean, he couldn’t wait to see you. His eyes would dart all around, taking secretive cover under the shade from his cap, scanning the crowd to see where you are and when you were bound to find him.

When he finally spotted you, his heart skipped a beat. Your dress is a light blue, matching the sky perfectly. Your hair hangs over your shoulders, the top half pulled back by a thin white ribbon, and frames your face so perfectly. He can see the shine from your glossy lips as you approach him, hands behind your back.

The tease you are, you’d stand in front of him for a few minutes, which in turn feels like hours to him. He has to hold back the urge to not break out of his stance, to not sweep you off your feet and give you such a sweet and tender kiss right then and there.

“Don’t break on me, flyboy,” you’d tease with a smile. His face didn’t crack, though. Caleb had to show you just how strong he is, even if it’s resisting the devilish temptation that is you and your beautiful face and gorgeous body.

Fuck, he is so in love with you.

You even circled him. Your hair got caught in the wind, the white ribbon in your hair sweeping across his vision. Once you returned in front of him, that’s when you tilted your head to the side, eyes meeting his. You would have taken a step forward, closing the gap, and rested a single hand on his chest, fingers spreading across the dark navy fabric of his dress uniform jacket.

Caleb would have grabbed you so fast, pulling you in for a tender kiss. Oh, how he’s missed you. His pretty bird, his one and only. You would giggle against his lips, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it onto your own. He’d dip you down and kiss you some more, showing everyone that you are his and his only.

Life is funny, though, and life is so fucking cruel that Caleb wishes he can turn back the clock and race to you instead of her.

You’re too tired to dream like Caleb. You are in purgatory, mind not imaginative enough for a dream or nightmare to occur, nothing to make you cling onto. Your arms are crossed over your chest, Caleb’s hand now fulling resting on your stomach, slipped under your hoodie, fingers spread out across the thin tank top you wear.

So little layers between you.

Caleb stirs in his sleep. His right arm flexes, fingers digging into the material of your tank top. His touch leaves red marks on your skin. You don’t wake up, though, and remain under the ignorance of unconsciousness.

His brows knit together. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. His grip on you tightens, his right fingers burying deeper and deeper into your skin. He’s sure to leave purple bruises behind, to mark your skin as a temporary scar of his trauma and fears.

All Caleb sees in his dream is you. As soon as he lifts you back up from the dipped kiss, you’re snatched away from his arms by Farspace Fleet soldiers. You claw at the air, trying to get back to him tears running down your face. Caleb’s yells and protests fall on silent ears, the world around him turning a blind eye as you’re dragged away and into a gargantuan transport aircraft that sits nearby.

He sprints after you, his right arm extended out. You cry out his name. Your screams are animalistic and filled with nothing but terror. You try your best to break free from the guards but are quickly sedated by a familiar face: Professor Lucius.

Caleb reaches the aircraft, running up the tilted door. Suddenly, darkness overtakes him it’s as if he’s pushed out of the plane. He drops through space, stars and galaxies passing him by while your screams and cries for help make his ears bleed. He collides with the ground, a loud smack reverberating against the damp, concrete walls.

He opens his eyes and tries his best to focus on the scene in front of him.

You’re alone in a familiar room, one that he’s had plenty of visits to, and are tied to a lab table. The Professor’s eyes travel your body up and down, wires and needles threatening to poke into your skin. He drags his grimy fingers along your pure skin and Caleb fights to break free from his restraints, unable to stop the Professor from turning you into a lab rat. Just another one of his experiments.

He claws against the metal restraints, his right arm in agony as the professor fixes the dents and scratches that Caleb accumulated on the metal.

All he can do is watch. Watch as the professor’s minions, like Viper, touch and feel your body. Their laughs are like nails on a chalkboard. They contemplate what they should do to you.

Body modification? Should they see if we can give you an Evol of your own? Maybe Viper can wipe your memories and take you, the most perfect specimen, as his own.

His body goes cold as he screams at them to stop, to leave you alone.

“She’s innocent in all of this! Take me instead! Do whatever you want to me! Please! Spare her!”

Caleb is forced to watch as your body convulses on the metal table. To watch as the professor orders Ever’s nurses to invade your body, cutting into your skin to turn you into a mix of flesh and metal…just like him.

They peel back your skin and toss it away, taking their scalpels and wires, fastened them onto your muscles. Your screams are blood curdling. Caleb watches as you arch your back, toes curled as they strip away pieces of your body, replacing them with mechanical parts.

The cherry on top? The Professor made sure to place a Toring chip inside your mind so you’ll remain perfectly obedient to him.

Caleb wishes to save you from the same fate he was subjected to both as a child and adult. He wishes that a needle never tucks itself under your skin, that your mind and memories will never be destroyed and wiped clean, to not question what is real and what isn’t. His reality may be shattered, but he will make for damn sure that yours doesn’t implode from all around you.

His life may be a guessing game at times but you are the silent cure that keeps him grounded through the darkness and black hole of his mind. He doesn’t know if he can let you slip through his fingers again.

You stir awake, eyes shooting open, staring at the headrest of the seat in front of you. Pain shoots through your hipbone. Tears sting your eyes and you look up at Caleb, who wears a pained expression on his face. Your gaze drops down to your hip, watching as his fingers force themselves deeper into your body. You gasp and grab his right wrist, digging your nails into his skin so harshly that it’s sure to draw blood.

Caleb doesn’t even react to your harsh touch.

“No…” Caleb groans in his sleep, “don’t…don’t touch her…”

“Caleb?” You try to move your hips away from him but he pulls you right back to him. “Caleb…wake up, please! Y-You’re hurting me!” You rapidly smack his chest before grabbing his shoulder, giving it a firm shake.

His eyes don’t open but his grip on you somewhat loosens. You’re able to remove his hand and free yourself from the aching pain that shoots through your side. Your body shudders and you push yourself against the side of the train.

Caleb stirs beside you. His arms gently jerk around, reaching for something that isn’t there. His fingers grasp at nothing, dropping to his thighs in a sorrow defeat. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down at an uncontrollable speed. His body flinches, a quiet whimper popping out from his lips. 

You wipe away a single tear that rolls down your cheek, pushing through the lingering pain. Caleb turns in his seat, facing you, fingers trembling before gripping the material of his pants. You reach out and slide your hand on top of his, the other one going to cup his cheek.

The pad of your thumb grazes his skin, bringing him some comfort, trembling under your touch. You squeeze his hand and slowly bring yourself closer to him, not even realizing that the Coelum Express is about to pull into Skyhaven’s station.

What could he be dreaming about? You think to yourself and swallow the lump that formed in your throat.

“Caleb? Wake up for me, yeah?” You softly coo to him. “Come on, Colonel, come back to me.”

His purple eyes flutter open, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He stares at you and looks completely bewildered, widened eyes and flared nostrils. You retreat back into your seat, slowly letting go of his cheek and hand. Caleb brings you back into his embrace, though, and fully brings you onto his lap.

Your legs drape over his lap and they hang out into the train’s aisle. Caleb buries his face into your neck, his nose smushing into your supple skin. He slowly inhales. The familiar scent of your perfume fills his nose and his heartbeat comes to a slow before anything drastic happens, such as the chip taking away more of his memories.

“Caleb?” You whisper. All you can do is hold onto his arm that traps you against his chest, looking forward and through the window on the other side of the train.

Thankfully, you two sit towards the back of the train with other passengers clumping towards the front. A quick glance down the aisle shows you that the train has come to a full stop. Passengers stand and grab their belongings, flooding the aisle. You tap your fingers on Caleb’s arm, tilting your head to him.

“Don’t leave me…please…” he whimpers into your neck.

“Caleb, I…” you breathe out, his grip tightening on you. “I’m not going anywhere…but we do need to get off the train, okay? Let’s do that,” you watch as he pulls his face away from your neck. Your eyes meet.

His purple irises are strained, the white of his eye a soft pink color from irritation and glossy tears. You sigh and reach up, knowing that you’re just playing the part of a loving and comforting girlfriend right now so he can calm down.

He was probably dreaming of her anyways…

You don’t care about him and the way he feels. Your heart totally doesn’t ache and rip into itself while you peer into his grief-stricken gaze.

“Caleb,” you breathe his name out, bringing him out from his nightmare and back into reality. He looks around, sniffling, and you wipe away a tear that escapes from his eye. His gaze shoots to your hand, then back to your eyes, but you look away before your gazes can meet.

You push from his lap and stand in the aisle, stretching out your tight body, muscles relaxing. Caleb watches, wondering if your brief moment of affection was true to how you feel towards him or if you were filling in the role of his love so you can leave quicker.

“Come on,” you reach over him, grabbing your belongings, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

“Home?” Caleb repeats the word. You nod and look down at him. You need to get him off the train, yes, but you also need to make for sure that he’s stable again. Something about this encounter leaves you feeling uneasy. You’re unsure of how to respond to his whimpers and cries, the way he held onto you like you are his lifeline in life.

“You’re okay, right?” Caleb grabs your waist, pulling you back to him. He goes to lift your hoodie, to inspect your body, but you shoo away his hands, taking a step back. “I need to keep you safe,” he mumbles under his breath.

“I’m safe, Caleb, but we need to get off the train—”

“What if they’re out there?”

“Who?” You ask.

Caleb shakes his head, avoiding your gaze now. He draws his hands back to his sides and stares at the seat in front of him.

You stand beside him. Confusion racks your body, his sudden protectiveness giving you some whiplash. You bite your lip and notice that the train is no empty. You tap him on the shoulder, getting his attention.

“Why don’t you take me home, Caleb? So you know that I’m safe.”

Your offer shocks you as much as it does him. You hold your hand out to him. His eyes remain on you, steady and unflinching. A chill runs down your spine. You begin to retract your hand, an embarrassed blush creeping up on your cheeks. Caleb stands and takes your hand before you can fully rescind the offer. He locks his fingers in with yours, looking down at you.

“Let’s go,” determination is prominent in his voice. Caleb, without wasting another precious second that you have graciously given him, steps in front of you, pulling you behind him. He guides you towards the exit of the train, helping you down the stairs.

The train station is unusually busy. Hoards of people pass by and bump into you. Caleb pulls you into his chest and glares at the rude people. He turns his attention to you and slips your purse form your grasp, placing the long strap over his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod and smile long enough for him to turn around, face dropping when his eyes leave your face. The Colonel moves to the area where the train drops off people’s luggage. His hand remains firm on yours, leaving you no way of escaping.

It was a stupid plan, really, you offering for him to take you home. You certainly didn’t want to go to his place and have him kidnap you or whatever but maybe, just maybe, he thinks that this is your way of letting him through the first layer of walls you’ve put up around your mind’s castle.

No, you think, he just got past the moat.

“I can grab it,” your side brushes against his but he pulls you back, shaking his head. With a rare public use of his Evol, your suitcase slips through the tower the workers have built and it glides across the floor, making its way towards you. You try to hide your face behind an ashamed hand, not particularly enjoying the annoyed looks and glares that people send your way.

It doesn’t matter, though. Once Caleb grabs hold of your suitcase’s handle, the two of you are already walking out the train station’s doors, stepping into the bright and sunny day.

When you first moved to Skyhaven, seeking refuge on the floating city to get as far away from Linkon as you possibly can, you were shocked by how bright the sun is. Obviously, the sun is bound to be brighter since you’re sitting high in the atmosphere, not having as many ozone layers to protect you as you would in Linkon. The blaring sun, matched with unpredictable weather, left you reeling from the constant changes. A jacket became a solid part of your wardrobe, anticipating quickly forming rain and thunder, but to also protect you from sunburns that the sun was sure to give you.

You look up at Caleb, eyes catching the sun through the strands of hair that fall onto his forehead. The sunlight is warm on your skin, the wind just chilly enough to justify your hoodie, and Caleb’s calloused hand keeps you walking at a brisk pace, your much shorter legs unable to keep up with him.

Skyhaven’s beauty shines today. You watch as high altitude birds take rest on planted trees and how the flowers and bushes sway with the crisp wind. Unconsciously, you found your hip attached to Caleb’s, your sides never leaving each other’s touch, walking along the pathways. The two pairs of feet move in sync with each other, acting as a complete unit.

“Are you okay?” Your question slips from your lips before you can stop it. You cringe and look away from Caleb’s sight.

The sidewalk is sparkling clean, Skyhaven’s reputation of cleanliness upholding itself. There aren’t even any cracks in the sidewalk like there are in Linkon. You avoid stepping directly on the lines of the concrete, playing a game with yourself.

The two of you walk by a park. You stare at the children who play on the swing set. Other children scream and chase each other around, dipping between the pillars of the playground. A little girl runs up the stairs and yells at the boy to help save her from the other boy.

The boy runs up the slide and jumps in front of the girl, warding off the bully. You sigh.

“What makes you think I’m not?” Caleb’s question permeates your ear from behind. You shrug in response. His thumb twiddles with yours but you don’t move, not giving into his game. “I’m fine. It was just a bad dream.”

“Ah,” you say with a nod, kicking away a loose rock back into the boundaries of the park, “a bad dream.”

Neither of you press into it any further. It’s an awkward topic of conversation and you remembered that you aren’t entitled to his feelings and train of thought just how he isn’t entitled to yours. A bitter truth, yes, but one you ultimately accept with open arms.

You wanted it this way. You wanted Caleb to feel the sting of rejection and to always be scrambling behind you, trying to keep up. But this feeling…it’s a dull ache that pulls at your heartstrings. You know that you’re supposed to be angry at him, to be mad, but you just can’t.

Caleb has gone through so much. He is a survivor whereas you’re still rotten from your less than ideal childhood. Maybe you’ve gone too harsh on him.

Should you let Caleb back into your life? Should you accept his friendship and see where it takes you?

Your apartment building comes into view. You sigh and pick up your pace, finally keeping up with his long strides. Your connected hands swing between your bodies. The apartment grows closer and closer. Caleb can’t help but feel sorrowful since his time with you is coming to a slow end.

His grip on your hand tightens, allowing you to take the lead now. Caleb watches the back of your head, loving the way your hair bounces with every step you take, watching as the oversized hoodie slips to the side, exposing a small sliver of your shoulder.

He’s going to miss this small moment of domesticity with you. He’s going to dream about how you let him hold your hand, how he was the one who got to carry all of your belongings, that he is the one who pushes your suitcase for you. Nobody else. It’s a small victory to him.

Let me in, Caleb thinks to himself, I promise to never hurt you. Let me protect you.

You walk inside the building with Caleb following behind. The elevator ride is quiet. The only sound comes from there quiet dings of the passing floors. Your suitcase separates your bodies, acting as a barrier, his hand resting on top of yours on the handle of the suitcase. Caleb’s eyes never leave the side of your face.

Somehow, his gaze makes you feel so small yet so seen. His attention is warm, but is it a warmth that you even want?

Your conflicted feelings towards him leave your head feeling so much more dizzy than your hangover did.

His gaze dips below your eyes, moving towards your lips. A faint frown is on your lips, one that he knows would taste bittersweet if he were to close the distance and kiss you. A kiss that would leave him hungry with the hopes that you’ll be hungry for him as well.

Caleb digs his heels into the ground as you tug him down the apartment hallway. The sunlight graces the floor, illuminating the hallway with the bright afternoon light. The man pulls against your touch but you pull back, dragging him down the hallway, towards your sanctuary where you can fully be yourself with no prying eyes watching.

Once the two of you are at the door, you drop his hand and open it to him. He sighs and hesitantly places your purse into your palm, watching as you fish out your set of keys.

He should have stolen them last night when you were unconscious in bed. He should have seized the opportunity to make a spare set just in case you need someone to come save you. Just a spare key that only he has. A key that grants him access to your safe place. Caleb is patient, though, and is more than willing to wait however long it is until you learn to trust him.

“Thanks for walking me,” your voice brings Caleb out of his thoughts. He turns to you and smiles, his nod mechanical. You don’t notice, though, and slip your suitcase inside. “I hope you’re able to sleep well, Caleb.”

“Me?” He points to himself. “Why wouldn’t I sleep well?”

“You were holding on tight to me and wouldn’t let go. I think you bruised my hip,” you admit with a breathy chuckle.

“Did I?” Caleb drops down to his knees. Without notice, he pushes up your hoodie, calloused fingertips scraping against your smooth skin. Your eyes shoot open, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach, heart pounding. You tap his shoulder, watching as he examines the fresh, small bruises that are the size of his fingertips. The bruises are a dark plum color and, strangely enough, they compliment the color of the hickeys he gave you on your neck. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, it’s…it’s okay, really,” you grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him back up. He looks down at you with sorrowful eyes. You sigh and rest your hand on his chest. “Don’t stress over it. It’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose.

Why would he do that to you? How could he have allowed himself to do that?

“Go home, Caleb,” your eyes float to his, “go home and get some rest for me, okay?”

“Anything for you,” Caleb slowly nods, absorbing your command into his mind. “Will I…see you tomorrow? At work?”

A small smile creeps onto your lips. You look at him and bite your bottom lip, the man having to fight his inner demons not to reach out and release your lip from your teeth, to not replace it with his own.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you nod and let go of his chest, the Colonel suddenly feeling so cold without your touch, and you disappear inside your apartment, locking the door behind you.

The next day could not come fast enough for Caleb.

Unable to obey your command and sleep, the Colonel stayed up through the night, watching as rainclouds pass by his large apartment windows. No lights are on, just the light from the outside world casting elongated shadows across his dark floors. The rain made quiet ‘pitter patter’ sounds against the reinforced glass, leaving him feeling soothed yet uneasy.

His dream lurked in the darkness of his mind, unable to give him a moment of peace. In the distance, he can still hear your faint screams and cries, begging for him to come save you. Yet he was unable to do a thing, completely worthless under Ever and the professor’s control. Your eyes pleaded at him to step up, to do something, anything!

But what could Caleb possibly do? He’s just as helpless as you are. No…he should be ablate break free from the metal cuffs that keep him chained in place. He should have used his Evol to crush the professor and his minions. He should have swept you off of that damn lab table and place you in the security of his arms, stealing you away so the world can’t hurt you.

How could he sleep? How could Caleb even dare to go back into his nightmares, rendering him helpless in your desperate plight for freedom. He knows it isn’t real, that it is a reality that he never wishes to see come into fruition.

His phone vibrates on the table beside his bed. Caleb grabs it and stares at the message on the screen, a small smile forming on his face. He sees your name and face lined up next to his on the digital document. He turns his phone off and settles into bed. The man places his hands behind his head and stares out at the dark rainclouds.

The Farspace Fleet had been invited to a week long meeting in another country, one that’s about seven hours away and is held in a new place every year, for a peace summit. Colonel Caleb, one of the Fleet’s newer and most impressive officers, managed to secure an invite alongside a few other higher ranking officers, such as Majors and lower ranking Generals.

The downside of the summit? The country hosting it spoke a completely different language.

The upside of the summit? Caleb gets to request you as his personal translator, keeping you at his side throughout the week. This way, he’ll know for sure that you are safe and nowhere near Ever’s clutches.

He wonders if you knew of the assignment yet. He also can’t help but wonder if you rejected the offer, passing it off to someone else. Fuck, he hoped you didn’t.

After all, you did promise to see him at work. If you were to decline, you would break that promise you made to him. Caleb will have to punish you for it if you broke it.

Spending a week with you at his side sounds like paradise. Besides, he isn’t the one people are bound to flock to. They’ll pay more attention to the generals who show up and not him. His lower rank will give you two enough cover to run out and do your own things, leaving the peace summit behind.

Caleb will use this time alone to truly learn everything there is to know about you. You haven’t seen each other in years, after all, so this serves a great time for you to tell him about your favorite colors and foods, which genre of movie you adore, which position you prefer to be fucked in, and if you have somehow accumulated any more allergies since your childhood.

Your cooperation is integral for his plan. All you need to do is say yes, to give in to his lead, and play the role of loyal translator while he picks your brain apart in-between meetings. Maybe you’ll give him a second chance at a shared dinner. He knows of a fantastic restaurant in the other country. It’s even located in the hotel you’ll be staying at. How convenient!

Caleb showed up early the next morning.

His Colonel uniform is neatly pressed, not a wrinkle insight, his hat perfectly straight on his head, tie secured around his neck. He glances down at the medals and golden ropes on his uniform. They mean nothing to him. He does not really hold militaristic accolades in as high of a regard as he does with your validation.

Maybe if it were you handing out the medals and awards, Caleb would learn to give a damn about rank in his life.

The Colonel occupies a small portion of the space next to one of the few smaller aircrafts that will transport the Fleet members to the neighboring country. His dark aviators remain on his face, shielding him from the bright morning light, coffee cup in his hand. He has one for you tucked behind him on the steps of a ladder on the side of a fighter jet.

Fleet members show up one by one, passing off their bags to low ranking employees, who load them into compartments inside the aircrafts. His purple eyes remain steady on the crowd, people keeping a cautious distance from him.

He spots your neat head of hair, watching as you and another girl talk with one another, suitcases rolling along the long and marked tarmac. Caleb grabs your cup of coffee, slowly making his way where the luggage drop off is. Soldiers and ground control people stop to salute to him as they pass, scurrying away to complete their jobs. Even other translators, some of whom he rejected in favor of you, nod their heads at him.

You don’t, though. You stare at him with your hands on your hips, a slight scowl on your face. You narrow your eyes at him, watching as he closes the gap between you two. Electricity surges throughout your body as he grows near, holding out the coffee cup to you. You stare at it, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to say no to coffee,” Caleb quips, his voice cheery and teasing while his face remains emotionless. It sends chills down your spine how easy it is for him to feign indifference or to fake being happy.

“What strings did you pull to get me selected for this?” Your question is direct, straight to the point. Caleb chuckles and takes another step towards you. He’s less than an arm’s length away. His purple eyes look over the metal rims of his sunglasses, coffee now being placed in your hand. “What did you do to it?”

“I ordered it just how you like it. Then I put it in my car as I drove here. After that, I set it on the ladder of a fighter jet,” Caleb’s play by play makes you roll your eyes. You stare down at the lid and grumble under your breath. You force yourself to take a sip, the sweet nectar of the caffeine gods hitting your tongue.

Oh yeah. You needed that.

“Don’t think that this makes us friends,” you point at him, sharpening your gaze. Caleb rolls his eyes and leans down.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re playing hard to get with me right now, pretty bird,” Caleb smirks, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You shiver and push him away from you, rolling your eyes.

“What makes you think we’re at the friendship level, Caleb?” your question is bold. He likes that about you.

“I know how you taste, pretty bird,” Caleb’s eyes darken for a split second. Chills run down your spine, the memory of his face buried between your thighs reigniting the warmth between your legs. “I know how you sound…how one flick of movement earns me the most sultry sounding gasp—”

“Okay! Point made! You win, Colonel!” You interrupt him, covering his mouth. He chuckles against the palm of your hand, peeling it off of his skin.

“So we’re friends?” Caleb inquires, taking your hand in his. He too can be bold. He glances to the side. Nobody watches them; they are all too engrossed in their own conversations to notice the Colonel flirting with his assigned translator.

“Friends…” you gulp, watching as he laces his fingers into yours, “I think I prefer the term ‘acquaintance’.”

Caleb yanks you into his chest. You gasp, the coffee sloshing around in the cup, as he looks down at you with a devilish smirk on his face. You lean backwards, making him pull onto you with more force.

“Acquaintances…fine. But you and I both know that we’re not going to be…acquaintances for long,” Caleb helps you regain your balance before releasing your hand.

Your eyes remain glues to him. Caleb turns away from you, the smirk falling from his face as he walks away, approaching other high ranking offers with a handshake. You scoff.

How can he be so shameless and effortless with his advances? And god dammit, it’s working on you.

You push your hair behind your ears, turning away in shame. You find your way to the other translators, slipping into their circle to hide from Caleb’s prying gaze. You can feel it on you even though his attention is elsewhere. His demeanor has dominated you. He has made himself at home in your mind, rendering you useless whenever you try to think of any other man.

It all leads back to him.

“Translators! Eyes here!” A voice beckons from behind. You turn to face a Captain, his uniform pristine and sharp just like his facial features. His eyes are a deep blue color and his hair is a golden blonde. He’s…so handsome. His voice is soothing and comforting. All of the other translators, who all happen to be female, swoon over the Captain’s appearance. You, on the other hand, remain steady in your stance, unable to swoon for his good looks.

Your eyes flicker to Caleb, who watches you from the corner of your eye. You tilt your head in his direction, pretending to stretch out your body to catch a glimpse of him. He wears an amused smile on his face, his eyes shielded behind sunglasses. He nods his head to the empty spot beside him.

It’s a silent command. One that you know all too well. His intentions, whatever they may be, are of impure, rooted in his own carnal desire. You shudder and turn away, goosebumps forming across your skin. You bite the inside of your cheek and watch as the Captain instructs the translators and you on your job.

“You are not negotiators. You are not on vacation. We are here for work, okay? Act like it. You all should know who you have been assigned to and know what languages will be required of you. You are the best of the best, so prove it. You will be flying with your assigned officer so you can get to know them and figure out a translating system that works best for them. Sound good? Great. Good luck.”

The Captain turns on his heel and leaves out vicinity on the tarmac. You can feel Caleb’s eyes burn into the back of your head. While all of the other women leave to go greet their officers, you stay where you are, watching as the Captain disappears inside the building.

“Was I picked at random? Or did you pull some strings to get me?” You ask, watching as Caleb’s shadow looms beside yours on the tarmac.

His chuckle sends chills down your spine, the man taking his place right behind you. His uniform grazes against your back. You freeze. His gloved hand rests on your shoulder, slipping towards your neck. Caleb removes your hair from your shoulder exposed light hickeys he placed on your skin not even two nights ago.

“I requested you but it turns out that you are quite popular among the other officers,” Caleb leans in, whispering into your ear. He smirks at you, watching your legs squeeze together, your face stoic. “Do you know how many favors I owe people now? You’re going to have to make it up to me, pretty bird.”

You turn on your heel and look up at Caleb. He wears a smug smirk on his face and you know damn well that he’s toying with you. How cruel of him. You suppose, though, that two can play this game.

Aircraft engines roar from the distance. From over Caleb’s shoulder, you watch as officers, soldiers, and translators pile into the air crafts, the last one remaining empty as a few stragglers wait for you and Caleb to hop on board.

Your eyes flicker to him, gaze as sharp as a razor blade. You close the distance and put a sweet smile on your face, just as your boss instructed you do so when you first arrived to the base, and rest your hand on his chest.

Frankly, there’s nothing wrong about his uniform. It’s perfect with no mistakes or stray pieces of lint that breaks the solid black color of the material. His pins and medals are lined in perfect sync and his golden tassels hang at the perfect distance. Your hand snakes down his chest, passing his stomach as your finger hooks into his belt loop.

Caleb looks down at your touch, goosebumps forming across his body as his boxers begin to tighten. He looks at you, eyes poking over the edge of his sunglasses, watching as your smile turns into a smirk. You drag a single finger lower, teasing him with such ease and grace that he initially thinks that you genuinely want him. Before he can say anything, you slap his crotch and push around him, heading in the direction of the aircraft.

“Come on, Colonel, our plane’s waiting,” you call from over your shoulder.

Caleb’s eyes land on you, the man cursing under his breath. He washes you with wide eyes. He tries to pretend that your touch didn’t effect him so much. He’s about to chase after you, to get some kind of revenge, when he catches your gaze.

The world turns to slow motion. Caleb watches as you pick up the pace to his aircraft. The smile on your face is devious yet contains an equal amount of playfulness. Your hair catches in the wind, sweeping over your shoulder, and there is some pep to your step.

To Caleb, you’re in the baby blue dress from his dream. You’re calling out to him to show you around the DAA base, the bouquet of flowers you got for him in your arms. You wave your hand at him, beckoning to follow, and he does like the lovesick puppy he is.

[vellatrelle]

Catch-22

Learning on making cybersigilism,, but yes I’m turning these to photocards with the writing on the backside☝️

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, his voice calm and coaxing, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[spoopiloops]

waterfall of tears on my 🐱

♡ thinking about meanie!rafayel who gets off on seeing you as messy as possible

“Why are you crying, angel? I thought you said you could take it?” Rafayel was mean—laughing in your face as tears streamed down your cheeks. He wasn't above licking them off of your skin, a sinister grin pulling at his lips while reveled in the salty taste. His hips relentlessly snapped up into yours, soft hands wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest into his, your puffy nipples rubbing against him as you squirmed.

“Rafayel—fuck—please slow down. Please…”

“Aw, please baby? Earlier you had so much attitude. Now it’s please and thank you, huh? Does it just take having your holes filled to make you think straight? What a slutty girl my angel is.” He watched as your tongue hung out of your mouth, syrupy drool dripping onto your chest, the wetness pooling between the two of you, your skin sticky with one another. He thought you were so fucking sweet like this--peaked nipples bouncing against him, begging to be sucked, hair glued to your forehead with sweat, sweet little moans slipping from between your lips. You were a true work of art.

“I feel you tightening up around me, you gonna cum again already? Cumming while you drool all over me—how fucking nasty.” His tongue licked and sucked every inch of your neck, focusing right beneath your ear so you could hear every ragged breath that fell from between his lips as he slowed his pace. It was painfully slow, the sudden change in rhythm making you whine as he somehow managed to get even deeper now, forcing his entire length between your walls, his thick tip grinding itself onto your cervix while you clamped down around him.

“Too much— you’re so deep oh my god.” He couldn’t help but smile into the crook of your neck at the sound of your pretty cries.

“Such pretty noises you’re making. Can you feel my cock kissing your insides, cutie? Huh? You’re taking me so well, little pussy was made for me.” The filthy words only made you even wetter, the slick soaking Rafayel’s lap. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes met yours again—he had to kiss you, to taste your tongue. It was sloppy as you drooled into each other’s mouths, his slender fingers gripping your cheeks, forcing your lips to his.

“Shit—you’re clenching around me like you want me to cum inside of you. Is that it, angel? You wanna have my babies in this hungry little pussy, hm?” he said, voice sticky and sweet as his fingers found their way to your mouth and between your lips, greedily scooping up your spit and dragging it down your body. His digits landed right where your hips met, toying with your aching clit. Your back arched as his tongue made small circles around your nipples, teeth grazing them one by one as he fucked up into you.

“Yes yes yes want your babies please please I want your cum.”

"Yeah? You gonna let me cum inside of you, sweet girl? Fuck—this pussy is milking my cock so good." You shook against him, pretty voice begging in his ear...such filthy words from his angel. His fingers buried themselves into your hair, forcing you closer to him, your sticky foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on on another's.

“Aw I know, I know. My sweet girl, so fucking messy for me, huh? You gonna clean me up with that pretty mouth when you’re done using me? It’s the least you could do.” Praises fell from your lips as he finally pushed you over the edge, the combination of sensations making you buck and wiggle against him as he held you close.

“Aw gooood job, cumming so hard for me. Look so pretty like this—you made such a big mess of me." He said, voice soft against your ear as you shook in his arms, little cries falling from your mouth as he finally emptied himself in your tight little hole. His warm cum dripped down between your bodies, sticking you to him like glue as he peppered small kisses on your flesh.

"Open up for me," he whispered, his gaze soft, fingers cupping your face to squeeze your cheeks together. He could feel himself grow hard inside of you again almost immediately as he watched your lips part for him. He tilted your head back, drooling into your mouth, the wetness slipping back out onto your tits until they were glistening.

"Good girl, my sweet angel. Now swallow it." So you did.

"What do we say when someone gives us a gift?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome, baby.”

♡ a/n: uhhh bored so slight edit + repost,, something quick to look at until i finish the rafayel mermaid heat fic that i was really supposed to be writing. short and sweet xx