#lnds x mc

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Only one call away

Pairing: Sylus x fem! Mc

Warnings: crying, hurt/comfort, soft! Sylus

Genre: fluff!!

Summary: Even when you’re home, you still work. When it gets overwhelming, you decide to call Sylus who drops everything to take care of you.

Ugh I love me a good domesticated Sylus. Self-indulgent fic hehe.

I’m taking requests if you guys wanna see more <3

The phone sits heavy in your hands, thumb hovering over the call button.

Your eyes scan over your desk littered with various reports and the bright blue light your laptop emits stings your eyes after hours of working.

I never should have told Captain Jenna I’d have these done by tomorrow….

You curse your past self for the confidence of taking on too much work at once.

Rubbing the impending migraine through your temples, you release a sigh.

Just call him.

Your thumb presses the button without another thought and you lazily bring the phone to your ear. The phone barely rings twice before he answers, his deep honeyed voice drawling his usual charm.

“I was wondering when you were going to call me, kitten. I almost thought you forgot about me.” Theres a playful bite to his words.

“Hey,” you drag out the greeting. resting your head on your arm. “Whatcha doing?”

There’s muffled noises in the background.

“Nothing important, just taking care of some business, as usual.” Sylus says before his voice grows faint over the line. You can hear him ordering around the twins and the muffled pops of gunfire reaches your ears. “How’s your night, sweetie?”

You stay quiet for a few seconds, not really sure if you should play off your stress or give in. Your fingers fidget anxiously with the corner of one of the reports.

“You still with me?”

You nod as you’re pulled from your thoughts. “Yeah sorry, what did you say?”

Sylus’s chuckle rumbles through the line. “Your night- is it going well?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you struggle to stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

“I-it’s fine.”

Sylus frowns at the crack in your voice. His expression hardens at the emotion clinging to your words. More bullets whizz by him and he rolls his eyes.

“What’s going on, sweetie? Everything okay?” He asks with concern. Sylus places the phone between his ear and shoulder as he empties the chamber of his gun for a new magazine. “Talk to me.”

You let out a small sob, your emotions finally taking over as the stress weighs heavy on your shoulders. You miss his voice, his comforting words, him.

Sylus fires at his rivals with a snarl at your cries coming from his phone. Right now, they’re the only thing standing in the way of seeing you.

“Sweetie,” his tone is more urgent, a note of frustration too, just begging you to tell him what’s bothering you to the point of tears.

“I’m sorry,” you wipe at your eyes. “I’m just overwhelmed. I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t know you were busy, I’m sorry-”

“If you hang up the phone- so help me, kitten.” Theres another pause as the twins laugh in the background.

“Headshot!”

“Where’s the confetti?”

Even through your tears, you fight the urge to smile at their comments.

“No, it’s just work. I’m supposed to finish like five reports by tomorrow, and I overestimated how much I thought I could do.”

“Well, how much more do you have to do?” He asks.

You glance over the scattered papers with disgust, lips curling up in distaste. “I’m only halfway done, it’s already taken me like three hours.”

There’s grunting over the line.

“Stay put, kitten. Wipe your tears for me and take a break, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Sylus says.

Your eyes widen. The last thing you wanted to do was interrupt his own work. “No, Sy, it’s okay. I just wanted to hear your voice-”

Sylus laughs over as a man shouting in pain. “You can hear it again… in person. Twenty minutes.”

The line clicks dead. Your phone hovers above your ear and you stare at it in disbelief. Sighing, you get out of the hard wooden chair and stretch your sore muscles. Its not like you had today off either, no you still worked the past five day and hadn’t given your body or mind proper time to recover.

Wiping the last of your tears, you shuffle the papers together neatly and try to tidy your apartment as best as you can before Sylus arrives. The dirty dishes are thrown hastily into your sink as a way to pretend they don’t exist, which they don’t right now. Your stomach growls angrily and you turn to rummage through your fridge.

“No food…” you frown at the half empty carton of milk, ketchup, and string cheese sitting lonesome on the shelves. Releasing a groan, you decide maybe to just change and freshen up instead.

Entering your bedroom, your eyes fall to the overflowing basket of dirty laundry sitting idly in the corner.

Oh shit. You were out of clean uniforms for tomorrow too.

“Fuck me.” You whisper in frustration, trying to keep your emotions at bay once again. The familiar sting enters your eyes again and you rub the bridge of your nose and take deep breaths to calm down.

A low chuckle rings out behind you.

“As tempting as that sounds, kitten, I don’t think now is the best time for that.”

Sylus stands tall behind you with his cocky smirk. His clothes were disheveled and wrinkled slightly from dealing with the idiots in the N109 zone.

“How did you get here so quickly?”

“My kitten needed me.”

He lets out a breath of shock as your arms quickly and tightly wrap around his torso. Your face is pressed into his silk shirt that was no doubt stained with blood. A teasing quip hangs on his tongue, but he swallows the words once he sees the slight tremble in your shoulders and feels the wetness on his shirt. Ever so gently, his arms wrap around your figure, one hand cradles the back of your head while the other slides up and down your back.

He dips his head down and his lips brush against your hairline, giving it a soft peck. “Did you overdo it again?”

You nod into his chest and sniffle.

“Alright.” Sylus bends down slightly and lifts your body into his arms. His forearm resting underneath the back of your thighs as the other brushes the stray pieces of hair away from your face. He walks to your bathroom and sets you on the counter while he turns on the shower.

“Sy, I don’t have any clean clothes.” You say, a bit embarrassed at admitting you haven’t been able to take care of yourself.

He only hums in response before his large frame disappears into your closet, remembering to duck his head this time. Sylus comes back holding a small duffel bag. Something he stored in your apartment a while ago; for emergencies, sleepovers, and anytime you missed him.

“Lucky for you, I do.” Sylus says and drops it on your bed. He starts to unbutton his shirt and tosses it to the floor. He comes up to you, his large fingers dipping underneath the hem of your old t-shirt. When you nod, he proceeds to lift it up and discard it with his. You hop off the counter and you both strip the rest of your clothes.

The warm water sprays across your bodies and the hot steam crawls up the shower door and mirror. Sylus stands behind you and runs a soapy loofah over your body. You hum in contentment as his large hands massage your hips and trail up your body.

There’s a soft click and you feel something drip on your head. Sylus places the shampoo bottle back on the holder and massages the thick liquid into your scalp. Your head falls back against his chest and his hand occasionally swipes across your forehead to prevent the suds from getting in your eyes. He repeats it with the conditioner on the tips of your hair.

Once Sylus makes sure the blood and stress is washed away, he wraps his arms around you once more, tilting your chin up to face him. His lips lower down to meet yours in a chaste kiss.

The kiss was nothing sexual, purely a reminder that he’s there. That you don’t have to struggle alone.

Sylus turns off the shower and wraps you in a towel before tying another one on his waist. He ushers you out into the bedroom and rummages through the duffel bag lying on your bed; cologne, accessories, and extra clothes. He tosses you his large grey sweater and your eyes light up at seeing the familiar piece of clothing.

Once you’re both dressed, he sits behind you on your bed and dries your hair with a towel.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, voice breaking the silence.

You slowly nod and your stomach grumbles loudly too. Perfect. Sylus takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen and starts rummaging through your cabinets. He lets out a low hum in dismay at seeing the bare cupboards.

“I’ll order in something for us. Are you craving anything?” His phone is already out, swiping through the food delivery app.

When his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself getting shy again. You play with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater.

“Maybe that ramen place in the southern district? You like that last time we had it, right?”

You nod.

Sylus orders the food and leads you back to the table where the reports lay.

“We’ll work some more. Then when the food gets here, we’ll stop to eat and continue again. Sound good?”

Again you nod.

“I miss that voice of yours, kitten.” His knee bumps yours under the table.

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

“Okay.”

“There she is.”

—

You managed to get another report out of the way by the time the food arrived.

Sylus dragged you over to the couch and put on a show he knew you liked while the two of you ate. When you both finished, your bellies were full and Sylus pulled you back into his chest to relax while you waiting for the episode to end.

His arms is snug around your shoulders, his fingers rubbing over your arm. Your eyes start to flutter shut and Sylus chuckles before tapping your nose lightly.

“No, no. Not yet, sweetie.” He gently pulls you off of him and stands up, holding a hand out to you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner you can sleep.”

You groan dramatically, wishing anything to just curl into his arms for the night and sleep for the next week.

“Five more minutes?” You plead and give him your best puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“Ugh.”

And so Sylus helps you get back into your rhythm. He helps you as best as he can and gives you encouragement when you need it.

Then another report is finished.

And finally, the last one is done.

You lean back in your chair and stretch your back once you’ve submitted the final report to Jenna.

“Now I can sleep.”

“Now you can.” Sylus gives you a smile.

Closing your laptop, you shuffle all the papers together and head for your bedroom with your fingers interlocked with Sylus’s.

He fluffs your pillows and straightens out the blankets before he lets you get in.

Now here you are, laying down on Sylus as he scrolls through his phone. His other arm is secured tightly around you as his thumb grazes your hip. Even though you’re painfully tired, you almost try to stay awake to savor the peaceful moment with your lover.

However, the exhaustion catches up with you and your eyes fall shut and your breathing evens out.

“Good night, kitten.”

—

The next morning comes and you groan as your body wakes up. Your hand goes to reach for Sylus but when you feel the empty space, you sit up and rub your eyes in confusion.

He was gone.

Frowning, you pull the covers off and step into your fluffy slippers. The apartment looked the same, but still no sign of Sylus.

Your eyes flicker to the kitchen and you do a double take when you see the sink is clear. Not a dirty dish in sight.

“Huh?”

You walk to the drawers and pull one open to see all your cutlery is put away nicely. You let out a smile when you realize Sylus did the dishes for you.

Your eyes catch a pink heart-shaped sticky note on your fridge.

Open me.

Opening the fridge, you gasp when you see it’s completely stocked. Different proteins, fruits, condiments, and vegetables neatly stacked the shelves.

A chime suddenly rings out through your apartment. The dryer.

There’s no way he did your laundry too. Your heart flutters at the gestures he did for you.

The front door opens and closes and you finally see your scary-looking boyfriend holding a tray of two coffees and a small paper brown bag.

“Oh, I was hoping to be back before you woke up.” Sylus says as he holds out the food. “I got us breakfast.”

You take the coffee and glance at the sticker. The customization is exactly how you like it.

“I also got us some muffins,” Sylus trails off when he sees your expression. Your lip wobbles and you cover your face with your hands as you start crying.

“Sweetie, I was hoping to get rid of the tears, not bring new ones on.” He sets the bag and down and quickly pulls you into his arms.

“You bought me groceries.” You cried.

“I did.”

“And did my dishes.”

“Of course.”

“And my laundry…”

“That was fun.”

You choke out a laugh and sniffle. “I’m just so thankful to have you in my life, Sy. Thank you for helping me.”

His hand brushes through your hair and he places a kiss on top of your head.

“Of course, kitten. We all get a little overwhelmed, I just need you to remember to ask me for help when you need it.”

You nod and wipe your eyes.

“But you never ask me for help when you get overwhelmed.”

Sylus scoffs.

“I deal with the twins 24/7 and you think I don’t get overwhelmed? That’s why I have Mephisto spy on you most of the time, I can check in on you whenever I want and knowing I have you in my life calms me down.”

“Aww, Sylus.” You coo and lift your hand to brush your thumb against his cheek.

Your phone pings on the counter and you briefly pull away to look at the notification. “Oh, it’s from Jenna.”

You’re silent as your eyes skim over the email she sent you, even rereading the words over and over again.

“No way.” You gasp, returning your eyes to Sylus’s crimson ones with a bright smile. “She told me the reports looked great and as long as I’m on call, I don’t have to go in today.”

“That’s amazing, sweetie.” Sylus brushes your messy hair away from your eyes. “What are you going to do today?”

You let out a content sigh and grab your coffee.

“Absolutely nothing, I’m just gonna sit in bed and relax.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Do you mind if I join you? It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

You notice his tired eyes and momentarily forgot he sleeps during the day like a vampire.

“Yeah! C’mon I’ll tuck you in.”

And the rest of day was spent with you tucked in bed catching up on relaxation while Sylus was sound asleep next to you with soft snores escaping him.

[monopersona]

Certified Silverfox

When Sylus shows up for report cards in a black turtleneck and glasses, half the school loses its mind. Again. Aria wants to disappear. Her little brother laughs. Her mom finds it entertaining. Her dad? Just vibes, leaving chaos and thirst traps in his wake. A slice-of-life comedy with cool dad, PTA drama, and a marriage that still feels like flirting, years and two kids later.

Sylus x MC. Parenthood. Domestic fluff and semi-crack. Aria is a dramatic teenager and Kai is an admirer of his dad. 864 words.

A/N: Hi hi hi! 2 fics in one day because I am on a roll today. This idea came up last week and has been at the back of my mind so I couldn't help but write it. I hope you like this one!

You can read on ao3 here

Series master list here

Aria knew this was going to happen. She had begged her dad not to come pick up their report cards this semester. She was in eighth grade now, practically an adult. She could’ve handled it herself! She even practiced what she’d say to her and Kai's homeroom teachers (“So sorry, my parents had a last-minute emergency”), but no. Of course not. Because her dad had to roll up in his annoyingly sleek car, step out like he was about to go into a film set, and proceed to direct her personal nightmare.

The moment he walked toward the school in his black turtleneck, long coat, and rimless glasses, the vibe shifted. The whispers started immediately.

“Oh my god, is that Aria and Kai’s dad?”

“I hear he's, like, a big time CEO or something..."

“Is he single?!”

Aria groaned and sank low in her chair. She didn’t even want to look outside anymore. What was the point? She knew the PTA parents—many of whom are her friends’ moms—would suddenly discover a burning passion for “volunteering” whenever her dad was due to show up at school events. One even brought cupcakes “just because” and spent ten minutes asking about his skincare routine the last time the school held a family event. Which was rude, considering it was actually her mom’s. His wife!

Now he was again, striding through the school halls like he wasn’t single-handedly activating the thirst radar of every mom (and some dads) within five miles.

Kai, of course, thought it was the best day ever. But that’s because he’s only nine and stupid.

“Did you see Mr. Carter smile at Dad? He called him sir!” A starry-eyed Kai whispered as their dad shook hands with the principal like he owned the place. “He’s like a K-drama character. The mysterious CEO with a tragic past.”

“Shut up, Kai.” Aria hissed, dragging him down the back hallway to avoid the growing crowd of “casually loitering” moms and their very obvious phone cameras. “This is a disaster. I told him not to show up. I begged him!”

Kai just shrugged, completely unbothered. “He’s literally picking up our report cards. It’s not like he walked in shirtless or something.”

“That’s not helping,” Aria snapped, cheeks flaming. “I’m never showing my face again.”

Kai grinned. “He looks like he’s about to save the world and make it to our soccer game on time.”

Aria groaned louder. “Stop talking.”

Their dad, meanwhile, was busy being the human embodiment of cool dad energy, casually charming every school staff, saving her science teacher from tripping on spilled water, and picking up the report cards like he hadn’t just caused a minor school-wide heart attack.

By the time they got into the car, Aria had reached critical levels of secondhand embarrassment. She flung herself into the passenger seat and crossed her arms with a dramatic huff.

Sylus glanced at her. “Something wrong?”

“You know what you did.”

“I picked up your report card. And your science project. Which, by the way, smells like vinegar.”

“It’s a volcano. It’s supposed to.”

“Sure.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You wore perfume.”

“I always wear perfume.”

“You’re the worst.”

Kai was already in the backseat, unwrapping a lollipop he got from the front office. Probably because Sylus smiled at Mrs. Finch. “She said I was polite,” Kai said proudly. “And that I look just like Dad.”

Aria muttered, “It’s already starting.”

When they got home, their mom was at the kitchen counter, scrolling through her tablet. Sylus handed her the folders.

“All done.”

She peeked inside, flipping through the grades while he grabbed a bottle of water and the kids headed for the couch.

“Nice work, both of you! Kai, you crushed math. And Aria, your social studies teacher says you’ve got ‘excellent leadership qualities.’”

Aria dropped her bag and sighed. “Mom, please. Don’t ever let Dad go to school again.”

Lili looked up with a perfectly innocent smile. “Why not? I heard he’s now officially known as the Certified Silverfox.”

Sylus choked mid-sip. “I’m sorry. The what?”

Aria spun around, horrified. “Mom!”

“What?” Lili blinked, the picture of fake innocence. “You’re the one who came home ranting about it last semester.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean you should say it out loud!”

Kai, squinting, asked, “What’s a silverfox?”

Sylus just stood there, grinning like this was the best day of his life. Lili, smug as ever, leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It means the parents think your dad is handsome and distinguished.”

“I didn’t even talk to them,” Sylus said, sipping his water again. “Just said hello.”

“Exactly,” Aria groaned. “That’s the problem.”

Lili turned back to her tablet, unfazed. “Well, I happen to think I’ve got the best-looking man in the PTA.”

Kai nodded solemnly. “I hope I turn into a silverfox too.”

Aria buried her head in a cushion. “I need a new family.”

But later that night, curled up on the couch while her parents bickered softly in the kitchen about who actually bought the almond milk, she found herself smiling. Even if her dad was embarrassing. And, according to the tragically misguided people of her school, stupidly attractive. Ew.

[chanelrolls]

Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. “I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

[connorsui]

Caleb was undoubtedly the type of childhood friend who would boldly declare, with unwavering confidence, that he would marry you one day. He wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t second-guess it—just a certainty in his bright, boyish grin, as if the idea had been written into the very fabric of his existence. And, of course, he would promise it in the only way a child could—with a ring pop, plucked straight from his pocket, its wrapper hastily torn off, the sticky, jewel-toned candy glistening under the afternoon sun.

He’d slip it onto your finger with all the solemnity of a knight pledging his sword, as if the cheap, sugar-coated band meant something unbreakable. “There,” he’d say, his little chest puffed out in pride, hands planted firmly on his hips. “Now you have to marry me.”

And back then—when love was simple, when forever was just a word you threw around like a game—you might have laughed, rolling your eyes but still letting him lace his fingers through yours, sticky palms and all. Maybe you’d tease him, tell him he was ridiculous, that you were far too young to be making such grand promises. But Caleb, stubborn as ever, would just shrug, entirely unfazed.

“Doesn’t matter. I already decided,” he’d say, so sure of himself, so sure of you.

Years passed, but Caleb never took back that promise. He never forgot the weight of that cheap little candy ring on your finger, never let go of the certainty that you were his.

Even now, when he looked at you—no longer that reckless boy, but a man who had waited, who had wanted—his gaze still held the quiet, unshakable possession of someone who had already made his choice. You could pretend time had dulled the meaning of that childhood vow...

but Caleb never did.

In his mind, in his heart, you had always been his. And someday, he’d make sure the promise he made all those years ago wasn’t just a memory—it was a reality.

[kyrinnina]

Would you forgive him? 🤎

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

how about sylus let reader gobbles his dick up on her throat as he working shes so needy she even falls asleep during it or even let reader cockwarm him to sleep 🤍

᧔♡᧓ ࿐ SLEEPING ON HIM !

❦ warnings : nsfw, cockwarming, deepthroating, semi-public s*x, size difference, sleepy s*x, power play, and petnames.

❦ synopsis : You were supposed to be patient, supposed to wait until Sylus finished his work—but your neediness got the better of you. Now, with his cock buried deep inside you, keeping you warm and full while he works, you’re fighting off sleep, body soft and pliant in his lap. Sylus should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to care; not when you’re clinging to him so sweetly, whimpering in your sleep, desperate even in your dreams. Work can wait. For now, he’s content to keep you exactly where you belong. (mdni)

Sylus barely spares you a glance as he flips through the documents on his desk, eyes scanning each page with practiced efficiency. His free hand rests lazily on your head, fingers occasionally threading through your hair as you kneel between his legs, mouth stuffed full of his cock.

You’d been like this for a while now—desperate and needy, whining softly around him while he worked. He hadn’t even told you to do it. You’d just climbed into his lap, pawing at his belt, too impatient for him to finish his tasks. And Sylus, ever indulgent when it came to you, had let you.

“You’re insatiable,” he mutters, barely holding back a smirk as he watches you struggle to take him deeper. Your throat contracts around his length, a muffled whimper escaping as your hands clutch at his thighs for stability. “This is supposed to keep you quiet, not make you squirm.”

You whine in protest, blinking up at him with teary eyes, lips stretched wide around his cock. He chuckles at your expression, finally setting his papers aside to brush his thumb against your cheek.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sleepy already,” he muses, watching the way your lashes flutter. You’re so warm around him, so pliant, and the rhythmic bob of your head is growing lazier with each passing minute. "Greedy little thing… you bite off more than you can chew, then wear yourself out trying."

He exhales through his nose, tilting your chin up and easing you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. Your breath is heavy, lips swollen and glistening, pupils blown wide with exhaustion and arousal.

“You want to be full so badly?” Sylus murmurs, guiding you into his lap properly this time. His cock, slick with your spit, presses against your entrance, and he groans as he sinks you down onto him in one slow, steady motion.

A shudder runs through your body, your arms draped loosely over his shoulders as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. He strokes a hand down your spine, soothing you as you settle, buried balls-deep on his cock.

“Stay put, kitten,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he shifts just enough to grab his documents again. “Since you’re so desperate to be filled, you can warm me while I finish up.”

You make a soft, content sound, already half-asleep against him. Sylus smirks, flipping the page.

Needy little thing.

Sylas exhales slowly, adjusting his grip on the papers in one hand while the other rests against your lower back, keeping you pressed firm against him. You're still clinging to him, limp and boneless, soft breaths puffing against his collarbone as you drift in and out of consciousness.

He can feel the subtle flutter of your walls around him, involuntary little squeezes that make his jaw clench. You’re so warm, so snug around his cock, and fuck, it takes more restraint than he’d like to admit to keep himself from rolling his hips up into you.

“Didn’t think this through, did you?” he murmurs, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. You barely stir, only sighing against his skin, a little noise of contentment slipping past your lips.

Sylus smirks, amused at how quickly you’ve gone pliant—so eager to have him inside you, only to get so sleepy the moment you got what you wanted. He shifts in his chair, adjusting the papers in his hand, though the weight of you in his lap, the squeeze of your pussy around his cock, makes it impossible to focus.

His fingers twitch against your spine before trailing lower, skimming down to where your bodies are joined. He palms the curve of your ass, gripping just hard enough to make you stir, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

“You’re clinging to me like you don’t want me to pull out,” he muses, voice low and amused. “Maybe I should. Leave you empty so you can actually sleep properly.”

A pathetic little sound rumbles in your throat, and Sylus chuckles. His hand slides up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’ll let you have it—for now.”

Your breath hitches, your body sinking further into his, and Sylus allows himself a brief moment to indulge, letting his eyes slip shut as he savors the feeling of you wrapped around him, warm and trembling, completely at his mercy.

Work can wait. For now, he’s exactly where he wants to be.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[dearieshima]

determined

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷feat. xavier is determined to get your virginity before leaving philos.

His hands gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, holding you open for his relentless assault. "Look at how deep I am," he panted, watching as he pistoned in and out of your tightness. "Look how well we fit together."

c.w spoilers to xavier's myth, dubcon, groping, scummy!xavier, coercion/manipulation, cherry popping, handjob, fingering, licking fingers after jizzing on them, jealousy, 4k+ words, halfway proofread

On the night of Xavier’s Gladius ceremony, he returned to the palace with a newly discovered understanding. Amidst the celebration, he pulled his father, the king, aside for a private conversation. He presented an irregular protocore to his father, its life force still pulsating in his hand.

“Shouldn't the protocore warrant a formal inspection?” Xavier asked, voice laced with suspicion.

“The lightblade deemed you worthy,” his father replied dismissively, his fingers absently tracing the protocore.

Xavier pressed, “Is there no need for formalities? Or are you unwilling? A heart was once in this protocore–am I mistaken?”

A flicker of tension tightened the king's jaw as he pocketed the protocore. “...I knew you'd catch on.”

The king immediately caught Xavier off, witnessing the disgust in his son’s eyes. “However, it is a necessary duty of the crown prince. It is also the king's responsibility.”

Xavier's mouth widened, and for a minute he stood there in silence. He then turned sharply, storming out without looking back, ignoring his father’s calls. His decision was already made.

He strode into the crowded hall, hoping to shake off his father’s gaze when he spotted you. His eyes darkened.

You were laughing at a joke some man had made, holding a flute of champagne. The dress you wore barely skimmed your knees, and Xavier noticed the man's eyes were fixed and imaginative, longing to see it up to your stomach.

You were a lamb among a den of wolves. If he left too soon, the pack would descend upon your fresh meat. He couldn't leave Philos without sinking his teeth into you first, marking you as his territory to warn others until his return.

He maneuvered toward you, brushing off congratulatory pats and embraces along the way. At one point, Jeremiah slung an arm around his shoulders, only to be harshly shrugged off, as Xavier’s focus remained locked on you. Jeremiah noticed his gaze and, not wanting to interfere, took a long sip of champagne and slipped away.

When Xavier finally reached you, he wrapped a hand firmly around your arm, his eyes flashing a silent warning to the other man.

“Come with me.”

"Hm? Why?”

Xavier's jaw clenched, his frustration mounting. Did you not notice how the other man had been ogling you?

“I have something I need to show you. It's urgent.”

Without waiting for a response, he guided you out of the ballroom, his hand gripping your arm firmly. He guided you out of the ballroom and steered you through the corridor of the palace, his steps determined and purposeful. His hand remained on your arm, his grip firm and possessive. When you reached his room, he ushered you inside.

You perched on his bed, still holding your champagne, swinging your legs. “So?” you asked, a playful smile on your lips as you twirled the drink in your hands. “What’s so urgent?”

Xavier shut the door with a soft click, then slowly turned to face you, a strange expression on his face. He reached over, took the flute from your hand, and placed it on his dresser. “Don’t drink that.”

You frowned, almost pouting. “Hey!”

He ignored your protest, “he could’ve slipped something into it.”

He strode to the window, pausing. “Besides, I want you clear-headed for what I’m about to show you, that's so urgent.” He pulled open the curtains, revealing a brilliant, star-studded sky. The sight drew you to your feet, and you stepped over, awestruck.

Xavier stood close behind you to make space. His chest brushed against your back as he rested his chin on your head, his warm breath fanning over your hair.

“There’s one more thing I want to show you,” he whispered, voice low in your ear. He pointed upward, guiding your gaze. “See? Just above the dipper—that’s the star of our planet.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you spotted the tiny glimmer in the sky, remembering your talks about eloping there. You’d joked about it, but seeing it now made your heart ache with a longing. “It’s beautiful…”

Xavier chuckled, the low sound making your skin tingle. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your body was pressed flush against his.

Your breath caught, your heart thudding wildly. “X-Xavier…”

He held you tighter, his hand splaying across your waist. "You should be more careful," he murmured. "Don't you realize how many men in there were looking at you the same way I was?”

“The way you…?”

“—Like a piece of meat.” He was unaware he was contradicting himself. “You're too naive and innocent, and they were preying on it. If I hadn't taken you away..."

He leaned down, his lips just inches away from yours. He hesitated, as though he might ask permission, a question lingering in his darkening gaze. It died as he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a gentle yet assertive kiss. He drew you closer, his tongue exploring with confident ease.

He was desperate; you could feel it in the way his body pressed against yours, in the way he kissed you as if he was starved for you.

You melted into the kiss, your hands lifting to cradle his face.

Encouraged by your response, he gently lowered you back onto the bed, his forehead resting against yours as he followed you down. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the deep, unspoken yearning in his touch.

“Xavier—” Your protest was cut off as he deepened the kiss, his lips capturing your voice, drowning any resistance as he poured himself into the moment.

You was a bit tipsy, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions, making you pliant beneath his touch. Xavier's lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving a blazing path of desire on your flushed skin. He pushed you down, straddling your hips as he drank in the sight of you splayed out before him.

“X-Xavier…?”

Your clothes were rumpled, your hair tousled, your cheeks stained with a becoming flush. Xavier swallowed hard, his pulse racing as he finally had you right where he wanted you. This was what he'd been fantasizing about, dreaming of, for so long. And now, with you soft and willing beneath him, he couldn't hold back any longer.

His hands roamed your curves, slipping beneath your clothing to caress the silky skin beneath. He needed to feel you, all of you, with no barriers between you both. His fingers found the zipper of your dress and tugged it down but you pushed his chest, knocking him out of his delusion.

He blinked, as if surprised you would do that.

"What's the matter?" He murmured, his voice gruff. His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, pushing it up, revealing more of your skin.

"X-Xavier..." You repeated, flushed. You scooted further into the bed, away from him until your back pressed against the headboard.

He followed, his hand slowly trailing back up your thigh, sending shivers through your body. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice coaxing. "No one has to know. It can be our little secret." His fingers reached the hem of your dress, slowly inching it up.

“N-No…” you stammered, reaching down to hold your skirt in place. “I… I don’t…”

Xavier’s face fell, his fingers curling into the fabric, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “You don’t want this?” he asked, voice low. “I though…–You were kissing me.”

“You kissed me back, you let me…” he continued, his voice trailing off as he looked away, shoulders slumping. “Why did you let me, just to pull away?”

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt. “I… I didn’t mean to lead you on. I thought… it was just a kiss. Then it got too fast…”

"Too fast? Why was it too fast?" He glanced up, his brows knitted in frustration. "We've known each other for a while. We're alone. Why are you acting so shy all of a sudden?”

"I, I don't know..." You whimpered. "I don't... I don't know... Xavier, I…”

"You don't know, you don't know," he repeated. "You've been teasing me all this time, sending me mixed signals. And now, when I'm finally giving you what you want, you're pushing me away?”

You opened your mouth but closed it again, struggling to find the right words. “Xavier, it’s not… I just… You’re a prince…”

His lips pressed together, eyes dimming, reminded of the title he hated. "I'm a prince, so what?" His voice was soft, almost resigned. "Do you think that means I can't have you? That I don't have any feelings? That I can't desire you like any man would?”

“It’s not that… you're just…” you stammered, cheeks heating. “You’re meant for someone else, Xavier…”

"Someone else? Who are you to decide that? I don't want someone else, I want you. I've always wanted you." His expression softened, though his frustration was clear. He traced circles with his thumb on your foot. "Don't you want me?”

You bit your lip, finally looking up at him. “I… I like you, Xavier. More than… than I probably should.”

“Then why push me away?” he asked, voice thick with disappointment. “If you like me… then let me have you.”

“I… I don’t know, Xavier…”

He sighed. "You don't know again. Why don't you know?”

"Because I'm scared, Xav…”

"You're scared?" he echoed, his eyes softening. "Scared of what? Me?” Perhaps you've heard the rumors of him frightening away any students who showed interest in you; his father who showed an interest in your heart.

"N-No, that's not true," you pouted, fumbling nervously with your fingers. "I... I've never done it... This before... I…”

"So... you're scared because it's your first time?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat. “Yes…”

He remained silent for a moment, his fingers lightly caressing your hand. "I didn't know," he whispered, though it was a lie. In truth, he was well aware. It was he who had kept you pure, watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to claim your innocence for himself. He would never allow another man to take what rightfully belonged to him.

“But Xavier… I’m not sure I’m ready…”

His body tensed again at your refusal. He wanted you, and he was determined to ease your hesitation.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice warm and reassuring. "You like me, I like you. You don’t want anyone else, and neither do I. Wouldn't it feel right to do it with someone who’s been by your side your whole life, someone you love and could trust, instead of a stranger?"

He held your gaze, "those other men... they wouldn't take care of you like I would. They wouldn't be gentle–they wouldn't take their time with you. They'd just use you, Y/N.”

In your silence, Xavier took it as a small victory. Seeing you listening to him, processing his words, gave him hope that he was getting through to you, that you were listening to his reasoning. He pushed forward, continuing in a low, husky tone.

"They wouldn't treasure you like I would. They wouldn't make love to you the way I would. They wouldn't want to... to protect you, and cherish you, like I do.”

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, feel nervousness in your body as his fingers continued their path up your thigh, caressing your skin softly. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his voice a low plea.

"Please... let me show you what it could be like... with me.”

Xavier's lips slowly melded into yours, breaking the final barrier of your resolve. His tongue brushed softly against your lips, testing, seeking entry as he drew you deeper into the kiss, making it clear he wanted all of you. When your mouth opened, he slipped in without hesitation, claiming the moment entirely. He explored each part of your mouth, tasting and savoring, leaving no doubt of his intent. His body pressed against yours, his weight grounding you, pinning you with a warmth that left you breathless.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your skin. He gripped your hips, pulling you closer to him, as if trying to merge your bodies into one.

He could feel your body trembling beneath his touch, the way your hands clung to his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself. He reveled in your response, the way you whimpered and mewled in his mouth, the way your body reacted to his every touch.

The heat of his mouth seared your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck, each one more intense than the last. Your head lolled back, giving him better access as he nipped and sucked, marking you as his. The sting of his teeth on your sensitive flesh sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, as if he couldn't get enough of you. They slid under your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts. You gasped as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

"G-Gentle…" you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice rough. "I'll make it up to you."

His hands roamed your curves, one cupping your breast through the silky material. With a swift tug, he pulled the dress and your bra down, freeing your breasts from their confines. They spilled out, immediately pebbling without the warmth of your bra.

His eyes darkened with lust as he drank in the sight of you. He wrapped his arms around your lower back, pulling you flush against him as he dipped his head to capture a nipple between his lips. He suckled greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

His other hand came up to massage your neglected breast, kneading the soft flesh. He switched between your peaks, lavishing each one with attention until you were writhing against him, desperate for more.

Xavier released your breast with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. He trailed kisses up your chest, between your breasts, along your collarbone, before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, stroking against yours as he deepened the kiss.

One hand tangled in your hair, angling your head to give him better access. The other slid down your side, over the curve of your hip, before dipping between your thighs. He cupped your mound, his fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed sex, inciting a hiss from you.

"You're so wet already," he smiled, his voice a low murmur.

He hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. You lifted your hips to assist him, the cool air infiltrating from the open window hitting your heated skin. “X-Xavier…”

He smiled as he saw how wet you were. He spread your legs apart and ran his hand along your inner thigh, spreading them wider. "So pretty," he whispered, his eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He reached out and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making you jump.

“Relax," he whispered, his voice gentle. His touch became firmer, his thumb slowly rubbing circles over your hot, swollen nub. He watched your face intently, memorizing every gasp, every flush of your cheeks, every dilation of your pupils. "Have you touched yourself before?"

You nodded.

"Show me," he demanded, his voice low. He wanted to see what you liked, what you didn't. He wanted to know everything. He brought his other hand up to play with your breasts, pinching and rolling your peaks as he continued to toy with your core.

You peered up at him incredulously. "Xavier…–!"

"Please," he whispered. "I want to know. I want to know what you like, what feels good. Show me, please." His touch was hentley, coaxing.

Slowly, tentatively, your hand drifted downward, brushing over the soft curls at the apex of your thighs. Xavier's breath hitched as you parted your folds, revealing the glistening pink flesh beneath. "That's it," he encouraged, his gaze locked on your movements.

Your thighs clamped shut around your plunging fingers, but Xavier forcefully pried them apart. "Keep them spread," he instructed.

You let out a desperate whine, groping your breast as you frantically pumped your fingers in and out of your dripping slit.

"Shh," he soothed, his eyes never leaving your hand. "Add another finger. Stretch yourself for me."

"I-I can't..." you protested weakly.

He nodded his head as he slowly pushed one of his alongside yours, stretching you deliciously wide. "Yes you can," he breathed. His digit trailed down to join yours, stroking that spongy sweet spot deep inside. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around the stretch.

"Right there?" he asked, his voice low. He crooked his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spot over and over again. He watched your face contort in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you gasped. "Come for me.”

Your back arched off the bed as ecstasy crashed over you in waves, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as you reached your peak.

His dark eyes were transfixed, watching with rapt attention as his hand worked you through your release, prolonging your pleasure until you collapsed back against the sheets, spent and trembling. Slowly, he withdrew your slick finger from your dripping core and brought them to his lips. His tongue darted out, curling around your fingers as it lapped your essence, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

He leaned down and kissed you hard, his tongue sliding into your mouth so you could taste yourself on him. His hands flung to his pants and began to unfasten his belt with eagerness.

As his pants fell away, your eyes widened at the sight of his impressive manhood standing at full attention. The swollen head glistened with pearlescent drops of precum, the color a striking contrast to the milky smoothness of his skin. Prominent veins ran along the underside, pulsing with his heartbeat. He was magnificent, a work of art sculpted by stars itself.

"Sit up.”

You complied, your movements languid as you propped yourself up on your knees. Your breasts swayed enticingly with the motion, nipples pebbled and begging for attention. His eyes roamed over your body hungrily, drinking in every curve and valley.

He took your hand and guided it to his throbbing member, wrapping your fingers around his impressive girth. "Touch me," he breathed, "like this.” He showed you, moving your hand up and down his length.

As your fingers closed around him, he let out a low groan, his hips thrusting forward slightly. "Just like that," he encouraged.

You swallowed hard, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. "Is this okay?" You asked softly, his length growing even harder in your grip.

"Squeeze a little tighter," he instructed, his voice strained with pleasure.

Focusing intently, you squeezed just as he asked, marveling at the way his shaft pulsed in your palm. Your eyes were glued to where your hand met his flesh, watching in fascination as you pumped him, his swollen head disappearing and reappearing with each stroke.

He hissed through his teeth, his head falling back. "Just like that," he praised. His hips jerked forward, his body tensing. "Harder," he groaned. He brought your other hand up to play with his balls, showing you how to gently roll and squeeze them.

He gripped your wrist, his breathing growing ragged. "Keep...keep doing that," he hissed. He thrust into your hands, his movements growing jerky. "I'm… I'm going to..." He broke off, his whole body convulsing as he came in your hands.

He threw his head back, tendons straining in his neck as he gulped. Releasing your hand, he gripped his own thighs, fingers digging into the firm flesh.

You gazed at your palm, glistening with his copious release. Mimicking his earlier actions, you brought your hand to your lips, tongue swirling around your fingers to lap up every drop of his thick, salty essence.

His eyes were riveted on your display. With a sigh, he asked you to lay back once more. Seizing your hips, he yanked you towards him, his face flushed and debauched, mouth agape. He reached out and gently spread your thighs, stepping between them, the swollen head of his cock nudged against your slick entrance.

“Condoms…!” You cried out, “Xavier, what about–”

"Shh, don't worry about that now," he said. "I'll pull out, I promise.”

His hungry gaze raked over your quivering form, committing every dip and swell to memory. "Don't look so nervous," he crooned. “I'm right here.”

"Be gentle..." You breathed. “Please.”

He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. You were adorable. "I'll be gentle.”

His fingers delved between your thighs, parting your slick folds to reveal your glistening entrance. He groaned at the sight. "So pretty.”

He then rubbed his thick head against your wetness, coating himself with your fluids. He pressed against your hole, his hips slowly pushing forward. He watched your face, his own contorted in concentration. "Breathe in," he instructed softly.

And before you actually could, he thrusted in.

“A-Ah!”

Tears streamed down your face as he gradually pushed deeper into your tight heat. He paused, allowing you a moment to acclimate to his impressive girth stretching you open. His fingers tenderly caressed your cheek, wiping away the salty drops. "You're doing so well," he praised softly. "Just a little more." With one powerful thrust, he hilted himself fully inside you, breaking through your barrier.

A sharp cry escaped your lips at the sudden sting of pain mixed with overwhelming fullness. Your nails dug into the sheets as you gripped them for dear life. "Wait... ngh... I can't..." you whimpered, trembling beneath him.

Xavier captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries. "Shh, you're okay. I'm all the way inside now," he murmured against your lips. He held still, letting you adjust to the intense new sensations as your body stretched to accommodate him. "Open your eyes. Focus on me and you'll forget the pain."

"Hmgh..."

He began to set at a slow, rhythmic pace, his hips gently rocking against yours. He grunted each time he bottomed out inside you. "Look at me," he commanded gruffly. "Open your eyes and look at me." He reached out and gently tilted your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

Your body clenched around him, the initial sting of pain gradually melting away into waves of pleasure. A breathy moan escaped your lips as you felt yourself surrender to the newer sensations.

Xavier's face tightened, and his head fell forward between his shoulders. "God, when you do that…" he hissed through gritted teeth. He continued to pump his hips, his rhythm growing faster. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he instructed hoarsely. "I'm gonna go a little faster."

You complied and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him closer. When he mentioned he was going to pick up the pace, you weren't prepared for the relentless pounding that followed.

Bracing himself on his hands, he began to ruthlessly slam into you over and over again. Leaning down, he claimed your mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, muffling your desperate moans. His hips moved like a machine, driving into you with animalistic cruelty.

"G-Gentle...! Mgh–! P-Please!" you whimpered against his lips.

But Xavier was lost in his own pleasure, ignoring your pleas as he continued his merciless assault on your body. "You can handle it," he huffed. Gripping your hips, he adjusted your position, allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you. "You're too tight… I'll be gentle after I'm finished breaking you in."

"X-Xavier…! Xav–Ngh!"

He reached between your legs and grabbed your wrists, pulling them above your head as he continued to ravage you. His face was a mask of intense concentration as he continued to thrust into you, his hips moving like a piston. "You're so loud," he hissed, his voice thick with passion.

"Xavier! Xavier!"

His thrusts slowed to a torturous crawl, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders and folded you nearly in half. The new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper, the thick head of his cock kissing your cervix with each powerful stroke. Your back arched off the bed as your arms wrapped around his neck, nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin. A strangled moan tore from your throat.

His hands gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, holding you open for his relentless assault. "Look at how deep I am," he panted, watching as he pistoned in and out of your tightness. "Look how well we fit together."

"It's too much… please... please..." You babbled, your voice hitching with every thrust to your cervix. "Xavier... it hurts…!"

"It's supposed to," he grunted. "It feels good, though, right? Just bear it a little more. I'm almost done." He let your legs drop, pushing your knees to your chest as he pounded into you.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving long, ten crimson trails in their wake. Xavier grunted in pain, his face contorting as he thrust into you harder. "Mark me all you want," he huffed. "I'll mark you right back." He buried his face in your neck and bit down hard, sucking on your skin as he continued to thrust into you.

"Ahh! Yes! Fuck!" you cried out, your words dissolving into incoherent babble. "You prom–eh…! you promised…!”

Xavier's eyes were closed, his face buried in your neck as he fucked you without a care in the world. The sound of his hips slapping against yours echoed in the room, mixing with your screams and pleas. "God… fuck, fuck," he chanted to himself, his voice muffled against your skin.

"You're so meannnn," you whimpered, drawing out the word as a sob caught in your throat.

Xavier's eyes flashed, dark and feral, as he lifted his head. "I'm mean?" he growled, voice dripping with mock hurt. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you flush against him. "You're the one getting off on this, aren't you? I can feel how wet you are." To punctuate his point, he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit roughly, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

He gripped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze to meet his intense stare. "Look at me," he commanded, voice low and dominant. "I want to see those eyes glazed when I make you come undone. When I claim every inch of you as mine.”

Xavier groaned, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. "You're gonna make such a pretty mess."

The words were like a match to gasoline, igniting the inferno raging inside you. With a keening cry, you shattered, your walls clamping down and bursting as ecstasy consumed you.

Xavier's eyes widened as he felt your walls clench around him, your orgasm triggering his own. "Ah! Yes…–yes!" he cried, his hips stuttering. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and came, his hot seed spurting against your cervix.

Xavier let out a low groan, his body trembling as he filled you. His grip on your thighs loosened, his hand caressing the marked skin gently. As he came down from his high, Xavier's pace slowed, his hips rolling forward in shallow thrusts as he milked the last of his release into you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the world fading away until only the pulsing pleasure remained. With a final shuddering gasp, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, your consciousness slipping away.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you went limp beneath him. He peppered your face with gentle kisses, his touch at odds with the rough way he'd just taken you. "Shh, sleep now," he murmured softly, "You did so well.”

As much as he didn’t want to leave, he gently began to slip out of bed, his body trembling, spent. He pulled the blankets up around you, making sure you were wrapped warmly before crossing the room to close the window. Quietly, he turned to his closet, carefully reaching for his lightseeker uniform and slipping it on, moving with a gentle but determined grace.

He searched for his sword, finally spotting the star-tasseled handle hidden under the bed. Just as he reached for it, he felt a soft weight on his head, your hand, draped sleepily over him.

He froze, worried he might've woken you–worried he would have to explain he wasn't abandoning, but saving you–, but then you let out a soft, contented snore, and he couldn’t help but smile. Slowly, he lifted your hand, pressing a tender kiss to the back before leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead, damp with extertion.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath. “I love you.”

[yukinohiko]

something about caleb being pleased when you cry to him. it isn’t so much him drawing satisfaction from your hurt, your frustration, or whatever else it may be causing you to curl against him, wet eyes like drowned flowers and pitiful.

no, his pleasure is more contrived than that. it’s from the way you seek him out purposefully. seek your gege out for something only he could provide.

and there’s something so sweet about that, isn’t there? so fulfilling?

a lifetime together, for him to indulge and coo and spoil you, and it’s blossomed so well. the desire in you, at every twist of the day, to return to gege for consolation and adoration in equal measure.

he gathers you in his arms, concealing the warmth in his pleasure. he masks it with tenderness, doting on you so lushly.

“there, there,” he murmurs, his lips shaped in a smile against your forehead. “you’re all right, aren’t you? don’t fuss. gege’s here.”

he kisses away your tears, humming as you hiccup and get your words out. it endears him so much, makes him tighten his arms around you, prompting you to press your face into his neck. you breathe in his familiar scent, homely and sharp, clear as the blue skies outside.

violet eyes gaze down at you with a love that feels too great to hold. but he will bear it — he’s always bore it for you.

[ramonathinks]

THE GOODBOY CODE

slyus is a good boy and wants to prove it to you.

cw: sylus and reader are both switches, (18+, MDNI), handjobs, pussyjob, cum eating, slight blowjob, making out, finger sucking, orgasm denial, use of restraints, spanking (just one moment of it) slight choking, squirting, eventual sex and creampie

ramona note: just a little drabble since it’s been forever but hope you enjoy! it’s terribleeeee ik ik tagging: @sunasbon @kissxcore @sincerelyzee

“How badly do you wanna fuck me, Sylus?” A simple question but you could already see by how flushed his ears and face were just how badly he wanted this.

A surprising sound erupts from his throat — a whine, a whimper or a combination of the two before he finally speaks, “Really bad. Don’t torture me like this kitten.” You could see he was struggling, he said he wouldn’t use his evol to escape the rope that bound his hands together but his eyes held a different story.

You sit on his lap, your core against him and he shutters. “Can I?” Your hands traveled from his shoulders to his chest, spending extra time rubbing up and down, smirking at every heavy breath. Your hand grazes the area, “You’re hard.” His body goes completely still for a second, almost like he’s embarrassed that you pointed out something so obvious. “I can make you feel good, wouldn’t you like that?”

He’s watching you with hooded eyes, swallowing hard. “Be gentle with me.” He finally huffs out.

Your face lights up and within seconds you’re on your knees his pants are completely unzipped; his tanned cock flops out and you just stare. It’s long and heavy, slightly curved and the head is decorated with pearly beads of precum. Your finger rubs at the slit, collecting the cum and popping it in your mouth.

Sylus just stares, his face twitching ever so slightly as you look at him. You moan, taking your finger out and dipping it back to gather more of him. He hisses, his silver eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed. Squeezing your fist around him, you pressed small kisses to the tip, peppering everything above your fist — his cock now covered in your red lipstick. He’s throbbing in your hands as you continue to work him, the lascivious wet sounds of his cock and his needy labored breathing mixed together in the empty room, “Just like that.” His back arches at the same time that his hips jerk up towards your fiery touch. “Ah!” He throws his head back at the sensation of you suckling a bit on the head while you stroke, both of your hands twisting and pumping him sloppily. Your tongue laps at the head more, swirling around the slit and he moans. He’s not quiet anymore, he’s being loud.

The leader of Onychinus is whimpering and moaning while his toes dig into the sheets. He’s gasping, loudly, repeatedly saying how soft your hands are or how pretty you are, anything with a whiny voice and flushed face.

“Kitten, I’m cl—” You know he’s ready to spill all over you, you can feel him throbbing everywhere and from the way the veins on his thick thighs look as if they’re going to burst… makes you stop.

It happens all within a second, you take your mouth off him and your now sticky hands you give small kitten licks to. While Sylus heaves and glares, “Are you trying to punish me?” He asks, his cock twitching in the air — harder than before.

“Say please and I’ll make it up to you.” You purr, kissing his chest with mischievous eyes.

“You’re pushing your luck…” He murmurs, annoyance heavy in his tone. He rolls his eyes and looks deep in thought before he says, “Pleasee…sweetie.” Dragging out the please to truly win you over.

“Now I have to reward you for being a good boy, huh?” A smirk permanently glued on your face. “I got something better for you.”

You sit on him, his cock flush against your lips as you rock your hips back and forth. More of his own precum leaks on to his abdomen, you don’t know when he broke free of his restraints but his fingers dig into your hips while your pussy easily glides up and down, the combined cool slick covering the both of you.

Your clit bumps his head and you both gasp before you start again— dragging your weeping pussy from the base of his cock to head, circling your hips against him. Every bump of your clit against his tip makes you that more wetter and faster to slide back up and down against him. “You’re soaking me…” His crimson eyes sparkling as he looked at where you’re both connected, his hips meeting yours with each roll. With every roll he does, the more moans comes from his lips — sometimes he says simple words of ‘fuck’ but other than that he just lets out wordless moans and shutters as you work him.

“Sylus—‘M so wet, you hear it?” You tease him, reaching down to put his fingers against your clit; the rough pads adding to your please. A strained moan spills from your lips, grateful for the feeling as you continue to hump against him.

“You’re so soft.” He groans out, your wetness drips down on his shaft and he instantly flips you over. “Making me feel good.”

Sylus uses your wetness like a lube, moving even faster to slot himself between the lips of your pretty pussy, sloshing sounds of wetness and skin slapping as he continues. “Mmf!” He leans down to kiss you, licking your lips to get inside –he swallows all your moans with a devilish smile.

Keeping your lips open to nudge at your clit with the head of his cock, your eyes wide at the slight overstimulation. He says something but you’re too immersed in the pleasure to hear him, he slaps his cock on your fluttering hole.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, kitten.” A dopey grin on his face, he looks as if he’s captivated by you. “I let you take control, but now…” he grips the side of your neck just slightly, watching your eyes roll back and your chest heave. “I’m taking it back.”

You whine out his name and sniffle, still not looking his way. But it’s almost like he was always in charge, the atmosphere heavy.

“Don’t you want me right here? Inside?” He chastises, his lips twitching upwards, failing to hide his smirk. His calloused hands trail from your quivering belly to your mound. “I was a good boy, can’t you be a good girl for me?”

But you’re stubborn, a trait he both loves and hates in times like this. He rubs himself against your folds again, “Or should I stop?”

Your eyes glance at him briefly before looking away, “You like being a bad girl, huh?” He licks a stripe up your neck. The warmth of his body leaves in an instant and he turns you over, taking you over his knees. He slaps your backside, once. Then again, harder. You hold back a moan but your hole flutters around nothing which makes Sylus chuckle.

“You like that don’t you?” His hand comes down on your backside again and your fingers fish the sheets in front of you. “Cat got your tongue?” He teases as you wiggle yourself out of his hold.

You scoff but avoid his glances, if you admit you like it… his teasing wouldn’t stop. He watched your face before he changes the subject.

“How about this…” He offers. “I’ll do whatever you want if you tell me like a good girl.” You squeeze your thighs together and he takes notice.

“I want you inside.” You tell him, voice laced with pleasure. Teasing him was torture enough because you were teasing yourself in the process. “I’ll be a good girl.” You promise, sticking your bottom lip out in a deep pout.

He lays you back down and he opens your folds that are sticking together, rubbing himself through them again before your wet insides welcome him.

You squeal and he’s shushing you, carefully moving in deeper. Your eyes tearing up at the relief his cock is bringing you, you’re babbling nonsense words to which Sylus replies with murmurs against your lips, “I know, I know.”

There’s little to no talking after that, just the sounds of him inside of you, the bed frame and both of you whining against each other’s mouths. Sylus pushes his hips deeper inside before pulling halfway out and repeating the action, his eyes focused on your face.

Bending your legs at the knees to get even more inside — to reach that spot he knows he’s close to. He says your name, he groans it with labored breath and you watch his face as best you can. His eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, his lips parted before he grits his teeth and bites down. “Feels too good inside of you.” His hips snapping harder when you wrap your legs around him.

“M’gonna cum!” A pressure deep in your tummy, your knees close to your earlobes as he keeps going.

“Oh? You’re gonna? Aren’t you forgetting to ask? Let me hear that pretty voice.” He nibbles at your lips, kissing them.

“Sylus, can I? Can I cum? Please…please? Sylus—!” He’s looking directly at where he’s inside of you, froth covers his base and he bounces you off of him. You groan at the deeper sensation, a feeling so unfamiliar erupting inside of you.

You move your hands to cover yourself, “Sy— don’t… don’t look.” Gushes of wetness squirt off of you and you whine, his hand covering yours as he holds them tightly.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed?” He gushes, his cock twitching inside of you as he finally comes inside

“Oh.” He slips out, watching more of his cum leak out of you. “It’s pouring,” he purrs, scooping some up and gently thrusting it back inside.

[thalwri]

CRISP AND CHARRED!

synopsis: why bake when you can get your back blown by your favourite prince from philos?

warnings: porn no plot, masturbation, teasing, feral!xavier, feral!reader, backshots behind a couch

wc: 998

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

xavier had learned something new today. don’t bake when you’re with someone you’ve missed. you’ll burn the food. and in his defence you probably would have too. in an attempt to try out with creme brulée, you had gotten a bit too distracted.

with what?

you had dropped a spoon on the floor and reached down to get it, not expecting much from that. what you hadn’t taken into account was that the lining of your panties pressed against your shorts that tightly wrapped around your plump ass and hips, emphasising the curve and pulsating puffiness of your pussy lips.

if it wasn’t for that spoon always slipping from your grip until it was under his couch, making you eventually drop to your knees to reach for it. the curves of your back arched, those swollen folds rubbed against the moving fabric of your clothing as you wiggled in search for the spoon. just one more swift shake of that ass of yours and he would have seen your pussy exposed.

the thought of it sent jolts down to his swelling cock. there was already an imprint of his length hardening on his pants. but he didn’t bother hiding it. not while he had a magnificent sight to witness.

his hands had itched to squeeze and fondle those soft mounds of fat and lay kisses and bites all over it. his hand traveled down to his now fully erect cock and gently rubbed it in its clothed state. a shaky silent sigh left his lips as your back further arched, pushing that ass higher up.

his rock hard cock throbbed, leaking globs of clear fluid onto his clothing. but that only egged him on to stroke himself more, to succumb to his body’s needs. a soft moan resonated from the couch, by where you were. another moan slipped out, a result of you stretching yourself to find the spoon.

“xavier,” your voice was like honey, pulling him into your abyss like a tempest dragging him to an endless whirlpool. “hold me.”

“why?” his voice was strained, hoarse and dry as if all the moisture in his mouth went straight down his body. 

“what if i get– ah– stuck?” your pretty ass wiggled again. there was no way you weren’t doing that on purpose. “i need you to hold me.”

reluctantly– that’s a lie, he was overjoyed– xavier knelt down behind you and slowly curled his fingers over your waist, holding you still. he ached to move just a bit closer, to press his length right on your cunny lips. they were just calling out to him. so needy for him. he was so needy for you.

he would have maintained his restraint. really, he would have. at least before you jerked back, pressing yourself right on the print of his cock.

whether or not it wasn’t intentional was a question left for the wind to answer. because now, xavier was balls deep inside your pussy, pounding you into oblivion.

it felt like one of those washing machine porn videos, whether the woman would get stuck in the washing machine and would need help getting out, only to be fucked instead. or maybe it’s like a plumber kind of situation, where some part of her body is stuck or tangled in the bathtub and she gets fucked for a free repair service.

but neither of those stood a chance to the way xavier expertly found your sweet spot deep within your pussy, hitting it over and over again despite slipping his leaky cock into you just moments ago.

“you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you?” his naked torso curved over your nude form, one hand tightly gripping the head of the couch and the other fondling your nipples, twisting and squeezing them like his toys and holding your bouncing tiddies in place.

the only response you were capable of making was a string of incoherent moans. it was true, you had deliberately dropped the spoon and further used your charms to tease xavier. you didn’t really anticipate that he’d be just as aroused and hungry for you like you were for him.

“xa-xavier– i–“ his tongue swiped a wet line up your neck bringing you to a shudder. your head rested on the cushion he had grabbed for you to keep you comfy while he ploughed your dripping hole.

“concentrate on finding that spoon,” he cooed, enunciating each syllable with a sharp, deep, thrust, making sure you felt every vein massage your soaked gummy walls. 

he already came inside you twice, and you three times just in that position alone. you just had missed each other so much, especially after all the missions you had done separately in the last few weeks. it only felt natural to devour each other at some point, even if it was under the guise of a wholesome baking day.

“s-s-so– mmhfuck– so mean!” you cried, stretching your arms around until your finger grazed the cold metallic edge of the spoon you dropped. your gasp of victory turned into the sluttiest moan you’d made in months. even xavier was shocked to hear it.

“oh?” his hands massaged your waist to soothe you. he was shaking, both overstimulated, leaking endless amounts of cum into you and pounding all of the previous round’s back into you while the rest leaked onto the floor. “you’re so mmmuch louder today. ‘s it because you missed me?”

“i think– xavier!” he had already spent so much time edging you, and himself, you were about to explode at this point. and what about the food? “the crème brûlée– it’s burning–“

“let it burn,” you could just hear him grin. “i was probably going to anyway. besides,”

he pushed his hips as deep as your tight cunny could allow him to go. “i still need to take care of you.”

you two were definitely going to order food by the time you were done.

just a little drabble for xavier

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Dr. Zayne will handle it.

Pairings: Zayne x afab! Reader

Summary: Zayne finds out your gyno appointment is going to be with a male doctor and he’s less than happy about it.

Warnings: not really any just Zayne being jealous yet respectful, idk if I wrote him ooc or not… but it’s a learning experience lol.

Ps- it’s a lil shorter than what I normally write but I have so many ideas brewing.

————

Zayne’s fingers type quickly on his laptop, a warm cup of tea steeping next to him. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose with the lenses reflecting reports and patient files. He had promised only an hour of working in his home office while you stayed with him.

He could hear your voice in the main room arguing with whomever you spoke with. After your tone sharpened slightly, he decided to close his computer, remove his glasses, and see what was happening.

“No, I’ve been waiting for this appointment for two months! There has to be something else you can do.” You plead with frustration.

Zayne raises a brow, wondering what kind of appointment has you so stirred up. He watches as you angrily huff and say goodbye before ending the call. Your phone is tossed to the couch carelessly and you rub your face in your hands.

He carefully comes up behind you, his large hands covering your shoulders and the pads of his thumbs gently massage the tissue.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Concern is evident in his voice.

You nod and turn around to face him. “Yeah, just my stupid gynecologist.”

Zayne remains quiet, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“I’ve been trying to see this specific doctor because the association recommended her, but they just called me and said they overbooked her for this month and she won't be able to see me."

“Why does the association even have a recommended gynecologist?”

His questions hung in the air for a few moments while you scooped up your phone from the couch.

“I guess Dr. Lina is the best in her field. Kinda like how you’re the best cardiologist- most hunters try to see you instead of anyone else for heart issues. I guess it’s the same for her, and since a lot of hunters are women, the association trusts her to handle any issues for us.”

Zayne hums in understanding and places a tender kiss on your temple, his hand stroking your back to relax you. “So, what are you required to do now?”

You let out a sigh, “They can either reschedule me a month from my original appointment or I have to see the other gynecologist that the association recommended… who’s a guy.”

He tenses up and his hand stops moving.

Zayne maintained a high level of professionalism in his interactions with female patients. He recognized that the primary objective of doctors, including himself, is to assist individuals in need. Nevertheless, he experienced a sense of jealousy at the chance of another man observing you in a vulnerable situation.

“And are you comfortable with that?” His voice grows more cold and tense.

You pull your lip that you were chewing on from between your teeth, “Not really… that’s why I was waiting for Dr. Lina. If I’m not cleared soon, then I’ll have to be put on desk duty until I am.”

The foreboding future of being limited to desk duty when you weren't even physically injured was sure to make you go crazy. It was one of the most frustrating things about being a hunter- forget the wanderers, no, it was staying on top of all the appointments to ensure you were completely healthy. Dental appointments, eye exams, physicals, and now gynecology.

“I’ll miss my deadline if I wait for her,” frowning, you collapse onto the sofa in defeat. “Hello desk duty for the next month.”

You glance up at Zayne, searching for a hint of his thoughts on the situation, but he simply exhales through his nose, a silent acknowledgment of your frustration. He settles beside you, and you allow yourself to rest against his chest, feeling the cool steadiness of him. As you roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you pull out your phone to dial the clinic once more. Unbeknownst to you, Zayne’s gaze is intently fixed on the screen, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“I’ll just book with that other doctor,” you say dejectedly.

Zayne's hand clamps down on your wrist with a surprising intensity, preventing you from dialing the number. Shock floods your senses, and as your gaze meets his, you can't help but notice the piercing coldness in his green eyes. The tension in the air thickens, making it clear that this moment is more weighted than you had anticipated.

“Zayne?”

You look back to his hand locked onto your wrist. Little white snowflakes flurry from his arm, and from that, you can tell the doctor is having an internal battle with his emotions.

“Forgive me for my impracticality, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with you seeing a male gynecologist.” You don’t fail to notice the way his voice was now lowered and a chill ran through your body.

The flurry of snowflakes burst from his hand in quicker movements at your words and he quickly lets go of you.

“My, my, is Dr. Zayne… jealous?”

“I don’t see why I cannot clear you for this, I am your primary doctor after all.”

Aww, your snowman was jealous. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“Zayne, honey,” you lock your fingers with his, noting the way the snowflakes start to calm down. “As much as I would prefer you to do it over anyone else, the association wants someone specialized in that field.”

Zayne furrows his brow, a wave of frustration washing over him. He knows deep down that he lacks the authority to grant you the necessary clearance, and the thought that another man will see you exposed, no matter how justified it may be for medical reasons, angers him even more. The tension in the room thickens as he rises abruptly from the sofa, his movements are almost forceful as he unintentionally nudges you aside in his haste, caught between concern for your well-being and the turmoil within himself.

“Don’t make the appointment.”

And with that, he leaves the room.

"Zayne!" You call out, but the sound of his office door shutting was all you received in response.

—————-

About an hour ticks by and you never leave the couch, instead just opting to watch some soap opera to pass the time with a throw blanket covering your body as the rain pelts against the windows.

You could faintly hear Zayne's muffled voice speaking to someone over the phone. You didn't want to disturb him, understanding how difficult it is for him to express his emotions. If he needed some time alone, you would give him that space.

By the time the door opens, the main character is already in tears again for the umpteenth time. He stands over you and you turn off the show.

In the stillness, you can sense his struggle to meet your gaze, while your eyes remain locked on his, filled with concern and curiousness.

Finally, he clears his throat.

“You have an appointment with Dr. Lina at 8 a.m. on Monday. Please do not be late.”

Shock washes over your features and your mouth parts open.

“What? Zayne, how did you-”

“Being at the top of your field has its advantages.”

You're silent, not knowing what to say, just overall confused. It would’ve taken you another month to see her and now you’re seeing her in three days?

“One of my colleagues is Dr. Lina's cousin. I explained to him your situation and he talked to her. I guess she was delighted to find out that the one and only Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend wanted to see her- so she pushed back one of her appointments.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Without another thought, you move off the couch and wrap your arms around his neck. Zayne reciprocates the hug and cradles your head to his chest.

“Thank you.”

Zayne's hand continues to stroke your hair, a bit hesitant as he chooses his next words carefully. "Darling, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier."

You pull away with furrowed eyebrows as he meets your eyes.

"You were right, it seems I was a bit jealous." His hand brushes back a stray lock of your hair. "If you were required to go see another male doctor, I should have been more understanding of that. It wasn't right nor professional for me to intervene without your consent-"

"Zayne." Your sharp tone cuts off his apology. "You don’t need to apologize for anything. I understand how difficult it is for you to confront your emotions. Honestly, I couldn’t be more relieved. I had already told you that I wasn’t comfortable seeing a male doctor for this, so you being jealous and taking action like that is kind of sexy."

"You think that was sexy?" Zayne smirks as if humored by the situation. "Really."

You shrug and nod your head, "I mean, yeah. You being all protective like that and realizing you're jealous is something I don't get to see every day. Maybe I should make you jealous more often..."

He lets out a low growl and pulls you back to his chest, lips brushing against your hairline as he inhales your shampoo.

"It would be wise not to push it," He warns. "Besides, I’d much rather owe Dr. Lina a favor than you forced to be uncomfortable.” His thumb brushes over your ear.

“What’s the favor?”

“That I see one of her children. With the discovery of his new evol, I guess his heart had some abnormal fluctuations.”

You frown at his answer. A child with heart problems already?

Zayne notices your change in demeanor and he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Don’t fret over it darling, I’m seeing him tomorrow and she had already given me a brief rundown on his condition. It sounds like it’s just the body getting used to the abundance of power. It's common in children.”

You nod, relieved. If anyone can figure it out, it’s your boyfriend.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling on the couch and snacking on sweets while the cliche drama played in the background.

———-

Your appointment with Dr. Lina went very smoothly and she said you were in perfect health.

By the next week, you were approved to continue out in the field and the heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders.

Zayne was very relieved to find out his hypothesis was correct with Linda’s son, Ivan. As it turns out Ivan’s evol was super speed and the fluctuations in his heart were just him needing to burn off the energy.

You were glad it all worked out, thanks to your Dr. Zayne.

[glitch-but-ya]

HIRAETH.

PAIRING: Yandere!Caleb x Blind!Reader TAGS: Disability and blindness, possessive Caleb, yandere tendencies, violence and blood, overprotective Caleb, taking advantage of a disability, SFW but contains mature themes, use of the nickname 'pip-squeak'. SUMMARY: You wore a pair of gorgeous eyes that could not aid you throughout your life. Luckily for you, your childhood companion would be the vessel of sight you always needed. And at the end of it all, you would have his warm embrace to return to. WORD COUNT: 2,775 words.

You had never known what a home was like. Not because you suffered from the lack of one, no. You had a home—a large, two-storey house with white walls and an isolated attic, or so you had been told. Your home had been inhabited by three people. You knew that, of course. As a child, you would lie on top of Grandma, press your ear against her heart, and listen to her rhythmic heartbeat. You had learned that the steady thump... thump... thump... of a person's heart was proof of their presence. Each day, you heard two sets of heartbeats in your home, belonging to the people you cherished the most.

You had been raised with piles of books engraved with odd textures, an endless supply of home tutors, and a heavy stick to aid you for the rest of your life. You remembered tracing your fingers down your first white cane, feeling the cold aluminium against your fingertips. "It will accompany you through your entire life," Grandma had said. But it hadn't. Your cane had broken two years later. It had snapped in half after you dared Caleb to play baseball with it. It had been entirely your fault, of course. You still cringed at the argument that had led to the inevitable. It had started when Caleb caught you referring to your cane as your best friend. In the end, the cane didn’t last. Neither had the bond you shared with it. When it broke, he'd promised to get you a new one. But it always took weeks. Your 'best friend' hadn't rushed to your aid during those weeks. But Caleb did.

"Can you carry me down the stairs, Caleb?" As you had grown, you had found people to be more reliable than poles or sticks. You had believed you were truly fortunate to have such a loving, accepting friend whose shoulders were always free for you to lean on. He had carried you through the roughest terrains, through the darkest of forests, without ever bearing a single crack. All the white canes you had after your first break had eventually been rendered unsuitable for bearing your weight. But Caleb had never complained. He had never asked a crumb of you when you had to rely on him to drive you to places. Never had he turned a blind eye to the constant bullying you had faced at the hands of the neighbourhood kids. Although you couldn't see, you could feel. And you had felt that you were right at home. Home had been where Caleb was. Only with him had you felt at home. With him, you had been seen, loved, and cherished.

"Where'd you get that bruise, pip-squeak?" A natural consequence of being born with a disability was having to face constant bullying. You recall the first day you'd received the white cane. That afternoon, you'd insisted on walking alone without the assistance of Grandma or Caleb. The warm sun kissed your skin as you inched along the gravel. Birds chirped with renewed fervour as if the world had applauded your confidence. Today is a great day, you thought. Not only had you received your first walking cane, but you'd also achieved a feat most normal kids could not-- you'd snuck out of your window all by yourself. Moments like these made you believe you were just a normal girl living life with a small hindrance. For the first time, you felt invincible. What you overlooked, however, was how their presence was not merely a means to protect you from tripping over your feet or getting lost in the streets. They'd also shielded you from what you couldn't see-- the ill gazes of people who wished to utilise your blindness.

It hurt a lot: the bruises. Many a time, they would flog you with your own cane, smacking it over your head and shoving you with its tip all while they guffawed and cackled as they would with an odd-looking dog. They would rub dirt into your eyes and mock you-- "What? They're useless anyway! Who cares if they hurt?" Their actions left large red stripes across your skin that would deepen into a dark purple as you limped home. Not that you could see them, of course. The cold of the evening settled in around you, causing a shiver to travel up your spine. You'd assumed it'd be dark by now. Not that it mattered in your world. But you were often told that the darkness bore nothing but cruelty. If that were true, was your world merely one of savagery and ill intent? Was it even darkness that you saw? Or do you simply see nothing? You couldn't tell. You could see neither darkness nor nothing. Were they even different?

You were blind. You couldn't see. But you could feel. You felt his anger radiating from him, causing a lump to form in your throat. All because you'd replied, "I just got bullied a little." A pregnant pause followed your confession. You were blind. You couldn't distinguish between an uncomfortable silence and a pleasant one. You couldn't decipher it from the looks on their faces, neither could you tell by the behaviour they exhibited. But you could feel the clench of his jaw, the grit of his teeth through which he forced his voice. His tone shifted-- farther from concern, farther from warmth, and he uttered a singular unsophisticated word that confirmed your doubts-- "Who?" You could hear his movements. The irk in his steps, the angry shuffle of his jacket, the creak of floorboards under his weight, and the abrupt slam of the door that left you speechless and bitter. You nudged Grandma's sleeve after analysing the silence the two of you shared. Your fingers curled around the hem of her maxi. You looked up to where you assumed she would be, and a single tear slipped down your swollen eyes. "Grandma," your fingers trembled, "Is Caleb mad at me?"

By the time you began to chase after him, it had started to rain. The downpour sliced through your skin, hampering your sense of sound. You'd ditched your white cane back at home and scurried after him as fast as you could, placing your trust in the enraged and hurried thumps of his boots against the concrete to guide you. Only for the rain to hail in and throw you off course by completely overwhelming the sound of his footsteps. Great. You'd gone too far to be able to find your way back home as well. But you'd called this upon yourself, hadn't you? They were merely the consequences of your foolish actions—the aftermath of being naïve and weak. You were not invincible. You were not a normal girl. You were blind. And you'd dared to overstep your authority. It was only natural that you paid for your actions. Your shirt clung to your chest uncomfortably, creating odd creases across your body. Your damp hair occasionally slipped into your eye. You swiped it away and tucked it behind your ear as you ran across the empty streets. If you were to find yourself under the wheels of a truck, nobody would be there to come to your aid. But that didn't matter. Because this was what you deserved. You were simply experiencing karma.

Hot tears mixed with the cold beads of rain. The mixture slid down your cheek. Some entered your mouth, leaving it saltier than it already was. Some fell to the ground, rendering it indistinguishable from the thousands of droplets that fell each second. You didn't know where you were headed. You'd followed the sound of the pavement to keep yourself off the road, but you had no idea where you were. Had you run to another city? Or had you circled back home? Earlier, you'd slithered out of Grandma's grip before she could lock you away in your room and go searching for him herself. But with you on the loose alongside Caleb, she was sure to come chasing after you as well. Had you run so fast she'd lost track of you? Perhaps. Because she wasn't coming. Judging by the absence of sound, she was nowhere near you. After half an hour of running, your knees buckled. You came to rest beside a railing. Your hands gripped onto it, subtly tracing the intricate design as you panted against it. You inched forward with its support. Your feet throbbed as you walked, and you were sure the soles of your sneakers were torn as well. Oh, well. All you'd hoped for was that Grandma would find you, miserable and soaked in the rain, and take you back home with her as she stuffed your ears with various reprimands. But you were okay with that. As long as you returned to the warmth of the fireplace by the living room window, you were content. You doubted whether you deserved that as well. Eventually, your fingers met the cold, wet metal surface of an indented sign. You traced the words—"Willow Whimsy Park." Your breath hitched in your throat, and your hands flew around in search of the place where the fence ended. You rushed in through the opening, your breaths escaping in ragged spasms. He must've been here. He must've!

"Pip-squeak?" The world stilled. The patter of raindrops against your head became insignificant when your ears caught Caleb's voice. You'd expected him to be angry, to lash out and yell for you to go away. You'd expected him to hate you. To call you weak and pathetic, as you deserved. Yet how he called out your name was none of that. It was soft. Surprisingly gentle. You treaded closer, and you broke down once you were near enough to feel his breath on your face. Tears streamed down your face, painting a sleek path down your chin. Your chest heaved as you wailed ceaselessly. Foul, ugly cries escaped from deep within your throat. You sobbed and sobbed, leaving no place for Caleb to squeeze a word in. With a burdened sigh, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your face was pressed against his chest. Despite your futile squirms, he held on tightly, his grip unrelenting. His fingers curled around your forearm a notch tighter, as if conveying his refusal to let you go in time of need. At last, you gave in. You nuzzled your face against his torso and cried your heart out. You sobbed until your throat screeched in protest. But Caleb did not move. Not a single word left his chapped lips. He simply stood there, willing to linger as long as you'd take to vent your sorrows. Even as you pounded your fists on his chest weakly, he did not complain. He simply stood, his arm coiling around you a little tighter with each sniffle. He treated you with unrelenting patience, and his gaze bore a devotion that gnawed at your skin and begged for a pathway into your soul. It was comforting. It was warm. He felt like home. When your sobs had died down, Caleb released his grip. You raised your chin. Your sleeve rubbed against your face as you wiped the remnants of your tears away. But the drenched fabric aided only in wetting your face further. You looked up at Caleb and swallowed the sobs that threatened to erupt from your throat. With a shaky voice, you cried, "Why did you leave me?!" You didn't know how, but you felt his eyes soften. The intensity of his gaze dissipated, leaving him with a gentle smile on his face. "What do you mean?"

"You were mad at me, weren't you? So you stormed off." You fumbled around before grasping his palm. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't ever sneak out ever again! I'll do all the dishes, and I'll—" Caleb cradled your face with his right hand. His thumb brushed over your cheek tenderly. You could swear, however, that his hand was far more calloused than usual. They also carried a scent that was unfamiliar to you, a scent you'd later go on to realise. But back then, that touch erased your worries, allowing you to sink into a whirlpool of warmth. It was as if he reached into your frozen conscience and brought upon it the warmest summer you encountered. "I wasn't mad." He said, his voice akin to a spring breeze. "Not at you. I stormed out to find the people that..." he spaced out, tracing a bruise under your eye. "That did this to you." You blinked, your sharp senses picking up on the harsh undertone of his voice. The emphasis left you baffled. Was the sun truly capable of such cruelty? You nuzzled into his palm to feel his marred skin graze against your cheek. Had he always hidden his anger behind the veil of your eyes? "They got away, though." His tone shifted, although unnervingly so. "I'll get them tomorrow. Let's go home, now, pip-squeak. Grandma must be worried." A smile graced your lips. Caleb returned your joy with a tap on the corner of your lip—a gesture that belonged to the two of you. He let out a hum, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. The downpour raged on. Thunder began to drum against your ears. "How did you find me without your cane? I guess we're meant to be." You giggled. Although you would've never known he truly believed what he said. Your mouth opened, "Achoo!" In a slow, deliberate movement, he interlocked your fingers with his and brought it to his side. "Let's go home. Or else, you'll catch a fever." He guided you through the entrance, looking back occasionally to ensure you didn't trip over your feet. At the entrance gate, Caleb paused, glancing over his shoulder to take one last look at the scene before him. He was relieved you couldn't see. He was relieved the boys had obeyed. If they'd as much as made a peep, his lie would be caught. What then? How could he have regained your trust? What reason did he have for the boys who were sprawled out in the mud, their faces littered with bruises he did not know he was capable of inflicting? What excuse would he propose in retaliation against your accusation—why had he frightened and 'persuaded' them into not uttering a single whimper or cry, despite their mangled states? And the worst of all was how he did not regret any of the choices he made under the shower of rain. He hadn't thought of taking back the punches that were delivered, nor did he ponder whether the consequences of his actions were too dire to endure. With each shove, with each kick, and with each crack, the lesser he began to feel. After all, he did vow to you.

"What's wrong, Caleb?" Caleb turned on his heels to face you. He leaned in, tucking a soaked strand behind your ear. "Nothing. I just wanted to let you know..." After all, he did vow to you: "I will always protect you, pip-squeak. I've made it my life mission." Caleb was grateful to the veil before your eyes. If you could see, you would have seen the sheer cruelty of this world. This world was far too pernicious for you. Blind or not, in every life, in every body, he would have covered your eyes. The darkness you'd have to endure was temporary, insignificant to the fruits of his labour. You didn't deserve a glance at the suffering that plagues your world. The storms you encounter in this world should not exist. You tilted your head. "You don't have to make up for leaving me behind. It was completely my fault!" He wrapped his hand around the back of your head. "I'm not. Well, anyway, let's find Grandma." Before he could lead the way, you leapt onto him from behind, fastening your arms around his neck. "Thank you, Caleb." He chuckled. "What for?" "For giving me a home." He ruffled your hair. His fingers latched onto your wrist, bringing them closer to his chest, right where his heart was. "As long as you hear these thumps, you will always have a home to return to."

That evening, you left the park with Caleb arm-in-arm. Perhaps, not having the ability to see wasn't that bad after all. At the very least, you did not have to cast your gaze upon the atrocities that occur past the foliage of nothingness. At the very least, you could be ignorant in bliss.

[connorsui]

Hi! Can I ask for a Sylus fluff, where he gives the reader his bank card for her to go shopping, and he expects a bill to be at least $10,000, but all he sees is about $100. So he asks her if she bought everything she wanted, and she says something like "yeah, there were such good discounts, I didn't spend too much, did I?"

And man is just ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ GIRL GO SPEND MY MONEY I WANT TO SPOIL YOU

My beloved @lalaluch I cannot explain to you just how much fun this was to even imagine but let alone even WRITE 🩷 like I was losing my mind trying to bust out my Google docs to even make this. But my sickness was literally getting to me that all I could do was imagine--but anywhoo now that it's finally done I hope you all enjoy it ✨️

p.s: I hope this sickness finally leaves me because it be making me internally cry on the inside ...I pray for prayers lol 💅🏻

BUDGET QUEEN

It had taken weeks of gentle coaxing, half-joking remarks, and the occasional exasperated sigh before you’d reluctantly agreed. You had this stubborn streak, an insistence on independence that both irritated and fascinated him. But today, you’d finally caved.

“You’ll take it,” Sylus had said that morning, slipping the sleek card into your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm. “No arguments. No excuses.”

You had sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine. But I’m not going crazy with it?!”

He had only smirked, knowing full well you would—and knowing full well that he wanted you to.

And now, hours later, he awaited the results.

Sylus leaned back in his leather chair, his crimson eyes flicking lazily over the documents cluttering his desk. A rare break in his usual chaos had him sipping on his usual drink, savoring the brief quiet. That was until his phone buzzed. He set his glass down and checked the notification, a message from his bank popping up.

He expected it—he wanted it. You had finally caved to his insistence after a literal month of convincing and taken his black card to go shopping. He’d envisioned the inevitable message all morning, something like:

One-hundred million spent at Celine and The Row’s combined?

Or perhaps?

Fifty million at Loro Piana?

You’d mentioned their beauty and elegance more than once.

Nevertheless, the man wanted indulgence, excess—you deserved it, after all.

Instead, the message read:

$157.45 at… Assorted Stores.

Sylus stared at the screen, unblinking. Surely, this was a mistake. He refreshed his balance multiple times. Same amount. He checked for pending transactions. None.

“…What?” he muttered, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. He slammed his phone down, crossing his arms as he waited for you to return.

Minutes later, the front door opened, and you walked in, humming happily, two bags dangling from your arms. You looked utterly content, your warm smile sending a pang through Sylus’s chest. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had questions.

“You’re back,” he said, leaning against the doorframe to his study, watching you set the bags down in the living room. His towering presence cast a shadow over you, his white hair catching the light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.

“Yup!” you chirped, rifling through the bags. “You wouldn’t believe the deals I found today! It’s like the universe knew I had your card!”

Sylus squinted. “Deals?”

“Yeah! Everything was on sale! I even had coupons for some things. Oh, and this boutique downtown was having a clearance event! It was amazing!” You beamed at him, oblivious to his growing disbelief.

“Clearance? ..…How much did you spend?” he asked, his voice neutral. Too neutral.

“Um…” You frowned, pulling your phone out to check. “About a few hundred, I think? Oh, wait—like one-fifty! I didn’t spend too much, did I?” You tilted your head, as if genuinely concerned.

Sylus stared at you, his expression shifting to one of incredulous disbelief. His red eyes seemed to glow, and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the look of a man deeply offended. Not by you—but by the principle.

“…That’s it?” he asked, his voice sharp but measured, as if he were trying to comprehend an alien concept. “One-fifty?”

You blinked up at him, a little confused by his tone. “Well, yes… I mean, I didn’t want to waste your money—”

“Waste my—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his snowy hair. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly, “do you have any idea why I gave you my card?”

“To… buy some stuff?” you offered, suddenly feeling like you were missing something obvious.

“To spoil you,” he emphasized, stepping closer. “To treat you like the queen you are. To shower you in luxury. And you—” He gestured to the modest shopping bags on the floor, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. “—come back with clearance items?”

Your cheeks flushed. “But… I didn’t need anything expensive! I found good deals, and I thought—”

“No.” Sylus leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Listen to me, love. I don’t care about the price tag. I want you to have the best. The fact that you’re this thoughtful is adorable—don’t get me wrong—but next time…” He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more commanding tone. “…I want to see receipts that would make the average person cry.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” He straightened, towering over you again, his arms crossing. “Do you know how much money I make? How much I’ve set aside specifically to spoil you?”

“I can guess?…”

“Clearly not if you’re spending less than a casual dinner out on everything.” His voice was calm, but laced with unmistakable disapproval.

Then, with a breath, he softened—only slightly. “I just want to see you dressed in diamonds,” he corrected, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. “To watch you slip into golden heels that make you shine like the goddess you are. To drape you in silk and velvet, to see you standing before me in a dress that costs more than a car and still doesn’t compare to your worth.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his words.

“I gave you my card,” he continued, voice lower now, intimate, “because I want you to indulge. To spoil yourself the way I ache to spoil you. Because you deserve to walk into a store and not think—just watch and admire”

Your throat went dry.

He lifted his hand, fingers brushing over your wrist before tracing upward, his touch featherlight against your skin. “I want to see you try on jewelry without looking at the price tag,” he murmured. “I want to sit back and watch as a saleswoman fumbles to put a necklace around your throat because her hands are shaking too much from the sheer amount of wealth wrapped around you.”

His gaze dipped lower, lingering on your frame as he exhaled through his nose. “And instead… you bring me deals?”

Your heart pounded, a mix of amusement and something else entirely stirring in your chest. “I didn’t think I needed to spend that much—”

“You don’t need to,” he interrupted, thumb ghosting over your jawline. His voice was softer now, but no less commanding. “But I want you to.”

Your face heated.

“Next time, I’m going with you.”

“What, to make sure I spend enough?” you teased.

“Yes,” he said, dead serious. “And to carry your bags. And to remind you that you can have whatever you want.” His red eyes softened slightly, and he tilted your chin up with two fingers. “All I want is to see you happy. No discounts required.”

You smiled at his sincerity, warmth blooming in your chest. “Okay, fine. Next time, I’ll go a little crazier. Maybe five million?” you joked.

Sylus groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

You laughed, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“And you’re too frugal for your own good,” he shot back, pulling you into his arms. His voice softened, turning almost playful. “But I guess I’ll just have to teach you how to spend properly.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said, grinning against his chest.

Sylus sighed, resting his chin atop your head. As much as he wanted to spoil you senseless, he couldn’t help but love your thoughtful, practical side. It was part of what made you you—and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Still, next time… he was definitely making sure you left the store with at least an entire closet filled with designer bags.

For his sanity—and yours.

[kyrinnina]

Decoherence

"We are perpetually trapped in a never ending spiral of life and death. Is this a curse? Or some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle… and wonder if we’ll ever get the chance to kill him." - 2B NieR Automata

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who… has a deep fascination with the human body, often analyzing your movements, your every breath, and how your body reacts to his touch. His clinical, meticulous nature only adds to the intensity of his presence, making you feel both nervous and intrigued by his attention.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... takes pleasure in the small, intimate details. He enjoys watching you squirm as his hands travel across your body, particularly over your soft tits, pressing gently to feel their weight before brushing his fingers over your sensitive nipples. He enjoys seeing the way your body reacts to him, often teasing you to get more of a reaction.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... will have you pinned against the cold, stone walls of the room, his breath hot and heavy through his mask as he whispers to you about the delicate balance of pleasure and pain. His voice, distorted by the mask, becomes a commanding tone, making you feel both exposed and safe in his arms.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... is very skilled at edging, drawing out your pleasure by taking you right to the brink of release, only to pull away just before you can truly climax. He enjoys watching your frustration grow, using his gloved fingers to tease your pussy, feeling the wetness of your arousal but not allowing you to fully reach satisfaction until he decides it’s time.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... becomes possessive in his own way, claiming you as his own in both body and mind. His touch becomes more intense when he’s jealous, his hands moving roughly over your breasts or between your legs, making sure everyone knows you’re his. His cock, hard and thick under his robes, rubs against you as he leans in close, making you feel his dominance and his need.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... loves to dominate in the bedroom, using his clinical knowledge to manipulate every part of your body, from your breasts to your clit. He’s not afraid to be rough, holding you down as you beg for release. His presence is overwhelming, both in its intensity and the feeling of being fully under his control.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... enjoys seeing you vulnerable and eager to please. He’ll have you on your knees, your face flushed as you try to keep up with his demands. His gloved hands will guide you, making sure you understand exactly how he likes to be touched—whether it’s with your soft hands on his cock or your mouth teasing the head.

𓍯𓂃 Plague doctor Zayne who... finds pleasure in the way your body responds to him. He’s constantly observing the subtle shifts in your movements, the way your pussy tightens when he enters you, the way your tits bounce with each thrust. Every detail about you excites him, and he makes sure to savor every moment.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... will make sure you are always satisfied, but only on his terms. His need to control, to possess, creates a balance between pleasure and frustration. When he finally gives you what you’ve been craving, it’s more intense than you ever imagined, his cock filling you completely, your body trembling beneath him.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... takes great satisfaction in watching you slowly fall apart under his touch. His hands, cool from his gloves, will slide down to your sensitive clit, gently circling it until you’re trembling. He’ll watch your tits bounce as he fucks you, his deep, gravelly voice commanding you to look at him, to focus on him, making sure you never forget who owns you in that moment.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... will occasionally pull back, letting you catch your breath before pushing you back to the edge of pleasure. He thrives on control, ensuring you never quite reach your peak too soon. His cock will glide inside you slowly, but each thrust will grow deeper, rougher, until your body can’t help but tremble beneath him.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... loves to worship your body in his own way. He’ll kneel between your legs, kissing down your neck and chest, savoring the way your breasts move with every breath. His gloved hands will gently knead them, massaging your sensitive skin, then slowly dragging down to your pussy, making sure you’re wet and ready for him.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... enjoys playing the long game. He’ll draw you in with his quiet intensity, letting his hands and lips trace every curve of your body, his fingertips lightly grazing your skin. The anticipation builds, teasing you as he watches the way you struggle to keep control. His cock rests between your legs, nudging you gently, making you crave the release he hasn’t yet allowed.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who… gets lost in the sounds of you—your breath hitching, the soft moans escaping your lips, the way your pussy clenches around him. He revels in the power he holds over you, knowing that your pleasure is in his hands. His movements become even more deliberate, each thrust calculated to make you melt into his touch, his cock brushing against your clit as he fucks you deeper.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... knows exactly what buttons to push to make you lose control. When he feels you’re close to breaking, he’ll pull you into a kiss, muffling your moans as his cock pounds into you, never giving you a moment to gather your thoughts. His tongue will invade your mouth as his gloved hands hold your breasts, pushing you toward the edge until you finally come undone in his arms.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... knows how to make you feel both completely safe and completely exposed at the same time. His mask hides his expression, but you can feel the way his gaze never leaves your body, observing every subtle movement. He makes you feel like you belong to him, his cock fucking into you relentlessly as you surrender to him entirely, lost in the sensations he creates.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... will sometimes pull back after making you beg for release, his hands gently caressing your body to remind you of who’s in control. He might tease your pussy, tracing his fingers around your clit but never quite touching it in the way you need. He wants to hear you beg, to see you desperate for his touch before finally giving in and claiming you again.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... can be surprisingly tender after a particularly intense session. He’ll take his gloves off, running his bare hands over your skin as he whispers sweetly in your ear, telling you how well you’ve done, how beautiful you are. His mask may hide his face, but his touch becomes softer, the passion fading into a gentle reassurance as he holds you close, making sure you're taken care of.

𓍯𓂃 Plague doctor Zayne who... finds joy in the subtle signs of his mark on you. He’ll leave small bruises on your body, especially on your tits and thighs, as a reminder of who you belong to. He enjoys seeing the imprints of his touch long after the night has ended, knowing that when others see them, they’ll know you are his.

𓍯𓂃Plague doctor Zayne who... takes pride in the way you melt for him. He loves seeing the look in your eyes as you become completely overwhelmed by his presence. When you’re desperate, moaning his name as you cling to him, he knows he’s succeeded in breaking you down—only to build you back up in ways you never thought possible.

[gomtangii]

can't get enough!

boyfriend!rafayel x fem!reader wc: 890 cw: NSFW minors and ageless dni, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, aftercare

rafayel is insatiable.

you would've never guessed this before you started dating him. he's always been flirty, suggestive, even seductive, but he turned out to be a bit of a prude. all he ever gave you were kisses, but anything further he'd get all red and would push you away.

"if you keep touching me, i'll scream!" he squeals, covering his chest as he wiggles away from you.

"rafayel!" you groan.

he just said he needed a bit of time and of course you would give him that, you just did not understand his overreaction, treating you like a lewd fiend!

then finally, the day came. he took you out on a nice shopping spree and fancy dinner, then took you back to his house. he sits you down on the couch and you're confused when he says the two magical words:

"i'm ready."

and, well, rafayel was right to threaten to scream, because the moment he said that, you did end up pouncing on him. you jumped on top and started kissing him fervently, your lips pressing against his. instead of pushing you away like he always has, he holds you by your hips and returns your desperate kisses. you taste so sweet, he can't believe he managed to hold out this long.

his hands drag down to your ass, lifting you up and letting your legs wrap around him as he carries you to his bedroom. he lays you down gently on his plush sheets, staring down at your flushed face, half-lidded eyes, and puffy lips. blood rushes to his cock as he takes off his shirt in a hurry. you squeeze your own legs as you watch him strip, the sight sensual and erotic. when you try to unbutton your own shirt, he stops you, choosing to do it himself.

you're so beautiful and he isn't sure he can hold back any longer, but neither can you. in the quickest way possible, you're both now bare, pinned under rafayel as he fucks into you at a rapid pace. stars block your eyes as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, stretching you out oh so well. you bite down onto his sheets, unable to think when he keeps interrupting your thoughts with every thrust.

"so good, you're doing s-so good," rafayel stutters, unable to think as well, "feels sooo good, can't believe i waited so fucking long i should've fucked you sooner you're so fucking good for meeee... gonna fuck you everyday." he groans into your ear, sloppily leaving marks on your neck and back.

suddenly his thrusts get staggered as he pushes your ass up in the air to hit deeper when he stops, cumming straight into your womb. he moans loudly, his chest pressed up against your back as he encases you, making you take it. the feeling of his cock spurting and twitching inside you sends you over the edge, your pussy convulsing around his length and encouraging him to cum more.

you pant, your body falling limp on the bed, but rafayel doesn't pull out. he doesn't even turn soft. instead, all he does is whisper into your ear.

"again."

what you didn't expect is for him to continue fucking you for the next few hours and to keep this up for the next week. it was as if he was either trying to get you pregnant or to make up for lost time. perhaps both, but it was truly hard to tell what even turned him on.

you would be in a robe fresh out of the shower and he'd yank it off and push you backwards onto his recliner. you could be coming back from a workout and he'd be on his knees, nastily eating you out, telling you how sweet you taste. you could be bumming in sweats and he'd whisk you away to his bed. and if you stand in front of him in your best outfit? he would get so hard that you wouldn't be able to walk the next day.

it was a lot, but you didn't mind. the bath with petals and scented salts, the massages and lotion, the tray of snacks and drinks, all those paired with the soft kisses he'd press onto your cheeks while whispering "i love you" into your ear makes it worth it.

"hey, raf?" you murmur, cuddling against him as he pulls the blanket higher, kissing the top of your head, "why did you wait so long if you were going to be so... i don't know, insatiable?"

"i waited because of that exact reason," he chuckles, nuzzling your hair, "i knew i wouldn't be able to stop once i started and i didn't want you to dislike me for it."

"you're so stupid," you mutter, rolling your eyes, earning a well-earned scoff from rafayel.

"i'm being vulnerable and that's all you have to say?" he sobs dramatically.

"no, you stupid fish, i mean that you're stupid for thinking i would hate you for having the libido of a teenager," you turn around to cup his face, squishing his cheeks and pecking his lips, "i could never hate you. i love you."

his eyes widen for a second before smiling, his heart melting at your words. his kisses you again and snuggles you, murmuring softly,

"i love you too."

can you believe that he's my number one and this is my first work for him