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archivesofthevoid · 1 month ago

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only if you're willing, only if it's you Caleb/Trans Male Reader Female Version (in progress) Cis Male Version (in progress) Content tags: penetration, p in v sex, AFAB reader, non-consensual drug use (aphrodisiacs), spiking, virginity loss, cunnilingus, confessions, overstimulation, Caleb gets all mean and edges you a bit too 5.2k words because these two are emotional Some girl at the DAA laced the chocolates she gifted Caleb for Valentine's Day with a high-grade aphrodisiac never even recorded on paper. You end up eating each of the pieces she laced the drugs with. Amongst the thousands of other cadets at the Administration, you turn to your best friend for help. Caleb helps you find out the lengths he’d go just to ease any and all of your pain. EXPLICIT CONTENT BENEATH THE INDENTATION. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

PREVIEW:

“Don’t be selfish,” he says. Almost commanding you. “I want to see how good I make my best friend feel.”

You sob. Your climax is building rapidly, the sheer stretch of him overwhelms your brain. The noises he makes above you are so delicious. You can’t believe you can make him feel this good. Caleb is vocal about his pleasure, moaning unabashedly with each thrust. In between his sweet, noisy moans he murmurs nearly drunken praise about how good you feel wrapped around his dick, how tight you are, how handsome you look as you take his cock.

“C-can you feel—mmmghh” —You squeeze tight around him— “Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

His body lurches. Some of his weight is lifted from your hands as his head rolls back and he gives a loud, sexy moan.

—————— STORY BEGINS:

“Ohh, you got another box!”

You sling an arm around Caleb’s shoulders. The delight in your smile has him grinning back at you.

“I’m praying this happens again next year,” you tell him with a mouth full of chocolate. He presses another chocolate into your mouth as you open your mouth to speak and you smack at him but continue your words nonetheless. He snickers at your big-backed, chipmunk-like expression. “What a way to be welcomed to the Administration.”

“I don’t think I want this to keep happening,” he says, tone teasing, “I feel so bad for you. You didn’t get any. So we have to share now.”

You know he isn’t really sad about it.

“Calm it, I already know you’re for the community.” He side-eyes you at that. “It’s tradition for them. Even I’m thinking of giving a box to someone next Valentine’s. There are so many cute guys and girls here.”

You don’t notice the way he bristles ever so slightly. Your hand hovers over the box as you contemplate which chocolate to shove into your mouth next.

“Huh.” He pretends to give your words some thought. “Who’s this someone you want to give chocolates to?”

“Let me think. You, of course,” you say casually. “Since you’re a good friend and all, and your height makes you kind of cute. But I wanna make sure all the cuties here at the DAA feel special, so I think I’ll be buying in bulk.”

He’d bash his head into the next wall if you weren’t here right now.

“I’m flattered,” he deadpans. “Will that be your way of confessing to someone?”

“Bro, we’re flight cadets. I might have considered doing that in university, but at this point I just want to make new friends.” You shake your head at him, picking up a chocolate and pushing it onto his tongue. He gets the feeling you’re trying to shut him up. But you did pick his favorite, and he ends up savoring the tang of lemon that spreads through his senses. “We’re here to be fighter pilots. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking like a teenager!”

—

“Caleb.”

His head tilts upward. He turns back, a smile already coming over his face at the sound of your voice. He tilts his head backward to meet your gaze as you stand over him. There’s a compression shirt wrapped tight around your torso. He notices. And files the sight of the lines of your strong torso, defined with cutting prominence through the shirt, away into his memory. For later.

“Why so serious, pipsqueak?” he teases, curious about your lowered tone.

“Was there—” you swallow, the intensity of your gaze fading as you look away from him. Almost like you’re embarrassed. “Was there something in those chocolates?”

“Huh?”

You shove your hands deeper into the pockets of your casual sweats, and your eyes dart around the room, where other cadets are busy closing flight reports or enjoying their own boxes of Valentine’s chocolates. You lean down and whisper into his ear.

“What the fuck,” he says, appalled. He looks up at you like what you just whispered in his ear could only be a lie.

“I’ve been trying to—” your words falter. While he feels like tracking the person who drugged the chocolates, tying a rock to their ankle and throwing them into the nearby river, the image that crosses his mind is impossible to resist. You were trying to satisfy yourself?

Your fingers between your legs. Your thighs spread apart. Your wetness, your moans—

“Just—listen, we’ve always been close. I’m not filing a medical report for this!” you say in a whispered shout. “I’ll report the girl, there are still some chocolates left and I can write up the ratio between aphrodisiac and regular chocolate later but—fuck, nobody can know about this.”

He blinks.

“But you let me know about it?”

“Because I need—” None of your words are flowing coherently. Each sentence is embarrassment incarnate. “I need help.”

He gawks at you. Mouth closed, but expression indelibly shocked. “You need help. You… you need my help? You need help from me?”

You fidget, agitation burgeoning with each passing millisecond. “It hurts so much. No matter what I do, it won’t go away.”

No matter what you do.

It hurts.

That awakens an instinct inherent to Caleb.

“You know what, never mind.” Your words become a quick, jumbled mess. “I’ll tough it out. It’s too much to ask for, I’m sorry, it’s so weird and I shouldn’t have asked, I guess just don’t come in my room—”

“There’s nobody in my room. Let’s go.”

He takes your hand.

—

He closes the door with urgency. Like you’re injured and all he has to do is bandage you up quickly.

“Caleb, are you sure?”

He hesitates. He can’t look at you, because he knows if he does he’ll do all the things he has ever wanted to do. Even if you need it, he will make no room for his selfishness.

“This is so fucking stupid,” you laugh. The distance between him and you only stretches from his bunk to the door. It would only take several steps to cross, but he knows that the actions he’ll commit that will follow are impossible. “I mean, I don’t think I can go back to my room anymore since even my legs are hurting now, but if you can keep the rest of your bunkmates out of the room for a few hours I might be able to—”

“Do you think I’m not good enough to help you?”

He finally crosses the space.

When he approaches, you almost feel trapped. His gaze is almost as powerful as his Evol, rooting you to the space in front of his bed. He stalks towards you like a predator closing in on a vulnerable mouse.

You scramble for words. “No, I don’t want to force you into doing anything. I know you’re a virgin!” A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat. “I don’t wanna be the one who takes your virginity when I’m just your best friend.”

He finally reaches you, but doesn’t stop when his space invades yours. The backs of your knees hit the bed. You feel the breaths from his words as he speaks. “What if I told you I’ve never touched anyone because I’ve only ever wanted it to be my best friend that I lay a hand on like that?”

He tilts his head at you. The aphrodisiac truly works wonders. His proximity has altered the levels of oxytocin flowing through your core, has pushed the rush of four different hormones to unreached heights all at once. Your body detects him in ways you’ve only just now discovered possible.

“You need to get fucked?” he asks.

You swallow as you look into his eyes. “Only if you’re willing, Caleb.”

He looks down. You realize he’s looking at your lips. “Push me away if you want me to stop.”

His fingers come up to hold your chin. Caleb steals your first kiss.

The aphrodisiac has explosions of need and feeling bursting in your body. You immediately pull him closer, kissing him back with a roughness neither of you are accustomed to. He makes a noise against your lips. You grip his shoulder and let your weight take you to the bed.

Caleb presses a hand to the back of your head to cushion your fall, but none of it registers in your head. You spread your legs for him, the ferocity of your lips on his a fiery rush. Soon he realizes he can finally release a hunger he’s been hiding from you nearly all his life. He shifts on the bed and grips your hips to grind you into his cock. Through the stupidly thick layers of fabric, you feel his hardness drag against your folds.

“I want to see you,” you say into his mouth. You tug at his shirt and he rips it off, allowing for only a millisecond to exist where his lips aren’t on yours. You caress the hard planes of his torso and he shivers at your touch. Half-naked above you, he grinds his dick against your combat trousers, moaning at the stimulation and the feel of your mouth on his.

“Take my shirt off,” you tell him. His breathing is labored. Synapses connecting rapidly all so he can memorize every millisecond of these moments with you beneath him, of how it feels to kiss you, to be between your legs and to have the permission to bare your body to his waiting eyes.

“You’ve really…” He gives a pleasured sigh at the very sight of you. “Changed so much.”

His fingers trace the scars under your chest. When you shiver at his touch, scar tissue more sensitive than skin without such injuries, he knows he can no longer hold back—he needs to feel this new man before him. He’s only ever gotten the chance to speak with you as the man you’ve become; to have fun with you, to laugh with you and know this reinvigorated best friend of his.

But he has still held back on fulfilling every one of the facets he wants to be more familiar with. He knows the sound of your deep laughter, but what about your noises of pleasure in this rich, sonorous voice of yours?

He moves to give you one last kiss. It’s chaste. When his lips leave yours, he kisses downward along your skin, savoring how the skin on your collarbones feels on lips, how a muscle in your strong chest twitches as he kisses you there. He slides down your body, smooth as butter on a hot knife, kissing every inch of your skin for the first time, until his head is between your thighs. He smirks up at you, fingers curling around your trousers and the pink waistband of your boxers.

“Let me taste what you’ve been doing to yourself.”

—

You’ve never known Caleb to be this cruel.

He let you cum on his tongue. But he wouldn’t let up until you were kicking at him, pushing his face away and sobbing for him to stop at the overstimulation. He kept on insisting he had to stretch you out for his dick. And you didn’t really believe him, because no man could ever be so big.

He was.

When he pulled it out of his fatigues you practically jumped on him, overstimulation all but forgotten as the aphrodisiac kicked hormone production in your body into overdrive once more, but he knew you’d hurt yourself if he let you take control.

Caleb has pinned you to the bed. Cock wet with lube, and only the tip inside you.

He has you begging and begging for his dick, struggling against his Evol as your cunt weeps, mind and nerves stimulated past the point of pain by the aphrodisiac.

“Please please pleasepleaseplease I need it—” you gasp, arching into him, bed squeaking wildly as you try to shove the rest of him inside. Why does he have to be so cruel? Can’t he see you’re in pain? That the aphrodisiac is ruining you, frying your neurons until all you can think about is his dick, his big, stupid fat fucking dick—

“Need what?” he still has the gall to ask. You squeeze around his tip. Tight enough you might just be trying to suck him in. His face twists at the feel but he still manages to be dumbly cocky. “You gotta tell me how I can help you pipsqueak.”

“I need your dick!” you beg. Tears prick your eyes as the throb in your cunt spreads through the rest of your body until you feel like a fresh, aching bruise—nothing has ever hurt like this. You don’t think he can see it. Low-grade aphrodisiacs, the kind most can afford in Skyhaven, don’t typically have this effect according to the cases you’ve read. Whichever girl put this type of aphrodisiac in his chocolate must have drained her trust fund just for it.

It’s why he has the nerve to be so mean. He doesn’t know how much it hurts. Well. Quite good, then, that you’ve little sense of dignity left and will beg for it until he’s fucking his cum into you.

“I need to feel you fuck me,” you say in a sobbed sigh. Rendered immobile still by his Evol, you can only wiggle your hips pathetically, trying to slip him inside you. “I want you to fill me up with your cum. I want to hear you moan in my ear as I take your cock and have you fuck me so hard all I can think about is how big my best friend is inside me.”

You start babbling, unaware of the serious expression that has taken over his face the second the words ‘best friend’ left your mouth, “I want your babies, I want to be so full of your cum I get pregnant tomorrow, I need it I need it I need it—”

“You think I’ll be good enough for you? Will just your best friend’s dick be enough?”

You don’t pick up on the scorn in his tone. The hatred for the phrase ‘best friend.’ It’s too subtle, so unlike Caleb that you could never conjure a universe where he’d speak to you that way. You simply beg, again. Not as nicely though.

“If you don’t nail me to the bed with your dick right this second I swear on Gran’s life I’ll crash into your craft on the next aerial pursuit—”

“Be quiet for me for a second.”

He tuts. The moment you feel his hips shift, you shut your mouth. Your legs tighten around the backs of his thighs. He begins to slide inside.

“Oh,” you moan softly. Caleb focuses on it. Your open mouth, your mussed hair. The way your body writhes impatiently beneath him. You’re already such a mess and he hasn’t even started. Three inches in, he feels the precum dribbling out his cockhead. When he realizes all of it is filling you up he nearly blows his load then and there.

“You’re so hot,” he groans, breaths fanning across your face with his first thrust. Your name is reverence on his tongue as he moans it into the air.

It’s your first time. You know for a fact it’s his, too. The stretch of his cock is heightened, impossibly good. You hold him close and whimper. You never would have thought it could feel like this.

“Don’t make those sounds,” he whispers, unmoving. It’s then that you become conscious of the unmistakable, harsh throb of his dick inside you. He’s close already. “Fuck, (Name),” he sighs again.

“Caleb,” you say. Something in your voice has him pulling back from your neck to cradle your face. Your eyes still glisten with tears. He softens, forehead touching yours.

“You gotta give me a few minutes,” he chuckles, voice low. “Think I’ll cum if I move.”

“I don’t have minutes,” you shoot back at him in a whisper, but having his dick inside you has returned some of your coherence. “Caleb, please—”

“Shhhh,” he soothes, his hand gripping your hip. His thumb rubs circles into your skin. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure you cum more times than I will.

“I’ll move, okay?” he tells you, lips brushing yours with the words.

His hips shift. You both groan as he thrusts back inside, a slow, scooping motion that rubs against a spot inside you even your fingers have barely touched.

There’s so much grace to his movements. Strength in the very way he holds his body. You feel safe beneath him, solid. You know he’ll take care of you, as he has a million times in the past and always will.

Your core burns, but you let him take it slow. Nothing will be able to take away the sense of safety and love that fills you in this moment. He throws his head back and you hold the back of his neck, cupping his face with a hand as he fights the waves of an impending orgasm. Caleb only provides a few moments for restraint. Once the approach of his orgasm dwindles, his hunger soon takes over.

“Am I…” he swallows, watching with furrowed brows as you pant beneath him, savoring the sight of your face twisted in pleasure all because of him. His hips ram into yours. The feel is hard. Bruising. His skin slaps wetly into yours with every thrust. “Am I the only one who’s seen you like this?”

Your mind goes blank. You blink up at him, attempting to comprehend, but he never stops pounding into you with this newfound rhythm. Your body gets looser and looser until you’re practically limp beneath him, mouth open, only able to take his cock and nothing else. You grasp weakly at his bicep for purchase.

“Was I the first one you thought about when the aphrodisiac kicked in?” he pants out. “I should be the only one you think about doing these things with.

“Now that I…” he huffs, swearing under his breath. “Now that I have you like this… nobody else will ever be able to. I’m the only one who will ever get to see you this way.”

“W-what?” you stammer, raising your voice against the slick noises of him beating your boyhole with his dick. “B-but isn’t this just sex—”

Something flashes across his features. You know him so well, but you can’t identify the emotion that fills his eyes now.

“Really?” he asks. His voice has deepened.

You start to ask him a question, but he leans back and pushes a hand under the small of your back. He lifts you easily and uses his Evol to drag a pillow under your back. You shiver at how deep he gets with the change in angle. But that isn’t where he lets this end. He unwraps your legs from around his waist to push them up and over his shoulders.

He fucks you into the rickety bunk mattress, and you cry out louder than the bed can squeak. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. You dig your nails into his hips, reaching for him wherever you can, the feel of him so deep inside you unbearable. Your pussy gushes, so wet for his dick that every thrust he makes gives a sloshing, sloppy noise.

“Caleb, st-stop—I can’t—”

“I’ll make you see that nobody can make you feel as good as I do.” He gives a rough chuckle. “Even if I’m just your best friend.”

He leans forward, your legs still hooked to his shoulders, bending you in half until every single inch of him fucks into you with every thrust. Your back arches and you struggle as sensation overwhelms you. Your walls squeeze his fat cock, so warm that he feels he might cum at the next thrust. And the next. And the next. For him this is all a test of how well he can hold himself back. He wants to give you those babies.

His eyes barely leave your face. Your embarrassment begins to grow with it. You close your eyes, breaking away from his gaze. Try to cover your face with a hand.

Caleb immediately reacts. He leans, folding you until your feet are just above his head, your pussy practically tilted to the heavens. Like this, he’s able to reach for you and pin your hands away from your face.

“Don’t be selfish,” he says. Almost commanding you. “I want to see how good I make my best friend feel.”

“C-can you feel—mmmghh” —You squeeze tight around him— “Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

His body lurches. Some of his weight is lifted from your hands as his head rolls back and he gives a loud, sexy moan.

“D-don’t talk like that pipsqueak,” he pants.

“Make me cum then,” you answer. You’re so close it hurts. “Make me shut up.”

He takes your challenge in stride. He leans forward until the backs of your thighs are pressed into his chest and he’s practically thrusting vertically downward into your pussy. You feel his balls kiss your ass gently as he adjusts to the position. Then his musculature steadies above you, his hips piledriving downward. His balls slap into the skin of your ass.

“In this position, you can’t escape me,” he says, thrusts merciless and wet. His gaze encompasses you, impossible to avoid. You blink up, tears on your lashes, into the beautiful supernova of his eyes. “I’ll keep you here until you drench my dick in your cum three times, pretty pipsqueak.”

With these words, he wraps his arms around you, his arms coming around your legs so that the entirety of him envelopes you in his embrace. He cradles your head and brings his lips to yours. You press passion into his mouth, your tongue sucking on his until he pulls your head backward to further expose you and drive his tongue into your mouth. You moan as he sucks on your lips.

“My gorgeous boy,” he moans into your skin. “You’re mine, yeah?”

“I’m all yours, Caleb,” you say. “Only yours now.”

“Only now?”

He changes the pace, moving his hips in circles so that his pelvis grinds into your throbbing cocklet. You can’t help but squirm at the stimulation when all he was giving you was his dick earlier.

“What about tonight?” he asks. His voice reflects this new insecurity of his, but there’s an edge to it. It’s possessive. Dangerous. “What about tomorrow?”

“Caleb, why do you keep talking like this—”

He’s too greedy to let you reply. And too afraid to. With eager fingers, he reaches between your thighs to swiftly gather your mixed fluids and finger your cocklet with his thumb. Without hesitation, his thrusts return to that hard, pounding rhythm at the very same time. You squeal.

“Caleb!” you scream. “Caleb!”

You feel him grin against your neck. But you aren’t really all there anymore. Your back begins to arch off the bed. Head lolling, hands clawing at his shoulders. He doesn’t bother to try shushing you. The barrack master can eat shit for all he cares when you’re like this, screaming his name until your voice is raw and hoarse enough that it cracks down the middle with your moans.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. “Caleb, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum—”

He pulls back to watch. It’s almost like taming a wild horse as he presses his forehead to yours and you buck against him, writhing wildly with the effects of the aphrodisiac heightening your pleasure and his unrelenting fingers jerking off your cocklet. You squeeze around him, impossibly tight. He feels his balls draw upward. Drool spills from the corner of his mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. Your moans and his mix together as your sounds spill into the air.

He tries to draw in that pupil of focus once more so that he can memorize your face as you cum on his cock. Eyes fluttering, he looks back down at you. Your handsome face is open with pleasure. The veins in your throat strain against your skin as you cry his name. It’s all you can say through your pleasure. Almost as if you worship the man bringing pleasure to your core.

“I’ve loved you,” he murmurs in an almost incoherent slur as you cum around him, with your hands holding tightly onto his and your pulse beneath his fingertips, “Every moment we’ve been alive. I am so in love with you it hurts. Knowing that you just won’t feel the same. You can’t. But if this is what I’ll get, if this is what you’ll let me have and you let me take care of you like this, then I can just forget. I’ll pretend that you love me too when it’s just the two of us like this.”

When you look up at him, your orgasm fading, you see that same emotion return to his face. He’s looked at you this way so many times before that his confession now gives way to finally show you what it is. You lift a hand to his cheek and he presses into your touch, desperate, fearful perhaps of the way this will end, his eyes closing, his face pained.

You give yourself a few moments to recover. You’ve never reached such pleasure before. And it’s him who gave all of it to you. As he always does. Caleb—calm, encouraging, and bright. Your beloved provider.

“Caleb.” Your voice is so soft, so soothing that the pain on his face eases a bit. “All I have are words. But that’s not enough for me to show you just what I feel for you.”

He opens his eyes to return your gaze. He waits for you to continue. But he seems to be drawing in on himself, as if he’s preparing for the hurt your words will bring. You, more than anything, want to prove him wrong.

“What do I need to do?” you ask. “What do I need to say? What can I show you that will prove I have always felt just the same?”

He leans back and adjusts your legs. You wrap them around his waist once more. But he doesn’t come back to hunch over you and hold you close to him. He’s stopped moving completely. Caleb turns away from you, face embarrassed.

“I don’t need your consolation,” he says.

“You’re right, you don’t.” You lift your back from the bed, hands slowly running up the lengths of his arms as you move to seat yourself in his lap. Your calloused palms glide over the goosebumps that rise on his skin at your touch. Your body is as strong as his as you lift yourself off the bed and into his lap, abs rippling with the smooth motion. “You need the truth.”

You grasp his hands in yours, pulling them towards your chest. You pepper kisses along his skin, cherishing the hands that have fed you, held you, helped you, and cared for you.

“Yeah, I might have jumped on a grenade for you before,” you begin. He can’t help but shake his head at your words, because while you did do that at 13:29 on a hot afternoon in April, he can’t help but narrow your consolation down to something insincere. You hold his face so he can’t look away from you, continuing, “But when we were kids, you were the only one I wanted my partner as. You were the only one I’d snatch extra candy for from Ms. Xia. I’d win every stupid game the other kids wanted to beat me at so none of them could be your partner. And you always kept losing your basketball a secret from me, but I was the one who’d climb the tree in our backyard just to get it back every time you lost it because it was your favorite one.” You chuckle at his expression. “You always thought it was the wind, huh?

“You have always been there for me.” Your fingers brush over the apple of his cheek. “But I think you sometimes forget I’ve always been here for you, too. It’s always been you and me, Caleb.”

You clutch his hands to your chest. “And here, at the DAA…” You swallow. “I think I’m learning to fall in love with you.”

There’s a flurry of movement, and you gasp as he gives your mouth a hard, bruising kiss. You’re pushed flat onto the mattress as he moves his body over yours.

“I love you,” he whispers into your mouth. Then he begins to thrust. There’s an ease to his movements, a sense of freedom. As if he’s finally let go. His hips undulate backward and forward, slowly. He savors this connection with you.

The kisses he presses into your lips are slow. Soft. You hold his face as he makes love to you, as he cherishes your body without that earlier hunger, that fearful desperation founded by the belief that he’d lose you the moment you left his bunk. That you’d be rid of him the second you—

“Don’t look away from me, Caleb.”

You pull him back from the spirals tracing dark, angry paths into his mind. He doesn’t shy away from your gaze.

“Pipsqueak,” he says. He never thought he’d say this childish nickname like this. “(Name). I love you. So much more than you realize.”

He doesn’t need you to say it back. He’ll wait as long as it takes, until you fall for him as deeply and as painfully and with as much yearning as he has for you.

“Inside me,” you whisper, giving him permission for something he’s dreamt of for years, the peak of intimacy he has always wanted to share with you. Only you. He presses his mouth to yours in gratitude.

That’s all it takes.

He doesn’t part from your mouth as he cums. As greedy as him, you swallow his moans as his cock marks your insides white with his cum. You caress his nape, your touch gentle on his cheek as he shudders through the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had in his life. He can’t stop moaning your name against your lips, his voice raised in pitch, shaky. A pleasured sob of your name fills the air as it leaves his mouth. He savors every syllable of your name falling from his lips, because it’s the first time he’s said it this way. With all of the love he truly feels for you. With the intimacy he has always yearned to have you bask in.

He collapses on a hand when he finishes. Tries not to fall on top of you. But you pull him in close and he lets himself go limp above your body. Your heartbeat thuds against his chest, rhythm rapid with the aftermath. There’s not a single centimeter of space against your body does that his doesn’t fill. You stroke his hair, fingers smoothing the disheveled locks. You feel him relax further, muscles losing their tension in your warm embrace.

“You love me?” you ask.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Even if you let me or you don’t,” he says, “I’ll always love you. I won’t ever stop showing it.”

“I think you more than showed me today,” you mutter.

He gives a little chuckle.

“Give me time?” you say. “I’m still learning that I’m falling in love with you.”

He nuzzles into your neck. His lips give your skin a gentle kiss. “You can take a hundred years and I wouldn’t regret a single second I spent waiting.” He wraps his arms around you. “I’ll wait for you, pips.”

>>>

Some things I noticed about the way I wrote this

I couldn’t help but want to write from both their perspectives, so the story kinda jumps povs in terms of who’s feeling or doing what

I really wanna know your thoughts

Is it not smooth? Too many jumps from Caleb’s to MC’s pov? Let me know u freaky ahh

#FUCK YEAHHHHHHHHH #As a trans man I AM EATING THIS UP #A WIN FOR THE T COMMUNITY LETS GO #The way Caleb would be so accepting #No one look at me #im losing my mind #im totally normal about this

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archivesofthevoid · 2 months ago

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Hey all!! Just like the Obey Me one I have, I made an LADS 18+ Server! It's a community where fellow adult Love and Deepspace Players can come and join to chat about the game plus those (so far) five fictional men!!

We have places for gaming tips, art, OCs/MCs (that are not just fem aligned!! As I myself am a trans man lmao), and more!!

If you're interested, please don't be afraid to DM me asking for the link!! We'd love to have you aboard the Deepspace Tunnel with us! :))

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archivesofthevoid · 3 months ago

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I have a couple pieces in the works dear followers I promise I'm not dead /lhj

So fret not!! You will be fed 🙂‍↕️

After like 2 years lmao

#x reader #x reader insert #obey me x reader #obey me #lads #lads x reader #loveanddeepspace x reader #loveanddeepspace

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archivesofthevoid · 3 months ago

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When they're soft!!! >>>

The idea that cupping someone's face makes em go all soft always gets me because like-

Lucifer's eyebrows knitting together briefly when you touch him, though you watch as that always-present tension slowly melts from his expression. All he can do is sigh against you and fix a gentle gaze on you, despite asking what it is you want (like he's annoyed or something lol)

Mammon pausing his usual ramblings about his next big money grab and immediately softening up under your touch. You know he'll deny leaning into your left palm for more of it, so you don't say anything and let him go as far as to grab your wrists; gently, of course. Don't hold anyone else like this, you hear?

Levi's attention being torn away from his PC screen, something he’d normally react angrily and LOUDLY to, but the moment his eyes lock with yours, he's gone rigid from head to toe. His headset slides off and you can feel his skin heat up beneath your palms, while he tries to find something, ANYTHING to look at other than your face. You're too close..!

Satan looking up from the book in his hands, being forced to correct his terrible reading posture if he wants to greet you properly. You notice the way his body relaxes under your touch as if releasing a knot he’d been carrying all day, and his laugh is soft and airy when he asks if you were lonely. Don't worry, he'll happily read to you.

The playful lilt of Asmodeus's "Hm?" when you take his face into your hands, and the way he closes his eyes with no qualms about his unfinished manicure. Your skin is so warm and he can never get enough of it, you know? And the way you always touch him so tenderly makes his heart fuller than he can ever understand. Stay a little longer, please?

Beel's assumption that you've moved to brush stray crumbs from his cheeks, but when your gentle hands have lingered much longer than expected, his cheeks grow a little warmer. That subtle smile spreads itself across his face to melt away at its stoic exterior, and he breathes a soft chuckle through his nose. Funny, he was just about to order takeout, but now he feels like he's had a full course meal. Wonder why.

Belphie still not waking from his nap on the sofa despite your hands against his face. He stirs slightly, but only to turn his face toward your palm. His soft breaths tickle your palm while the smile quirking on his face warms your heart. Was that an "I love you" he just muttered? It's too bad you didn't have your phone on you, but you doubt you'd forget this anyway.

#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #i need me more soft Lucifer #and overall just all of them #they make me ill <3

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archivesofthevoid · 3 months ago

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the great yogurt heist

warnings — fluff, short, reader loves yogurt

notes — lowkey idk what this is it just happened because i was craving for yogurt... | tags: @aomiiine @sydneybee @tojicide @umamaki

“caleb, did you steal my yogurt again?” you exclaim as you open the fridge to find yet another empty yogurt drawer. the vanilla yogurt you stocked up on for your break has “mysteriously” disappeared once again. “i told you those are for me!”

“what?” caleb appears from the living room, his mouth covered in yogurt. “i swear, pips, i didn’t eat them!”

you place your hands on your hips, a frown on your face. “oh yeah? then what’s all this?” you point at the corner of his lips, the evidence still there.

caleb touches the corner of his mouth and, seeing the yogurt on his finger, smiles sheepishly. “ah… about that…”

“caleb!” you whine. “now i have to go back to the store and get some more!”

“hey- i’m sorry! you have good taste in yogurt, pips,” caleb says, trying to calm you down. “okay, look. how about i drive you to the store today? we can stock up on some yogurt and other stuff too!”

as soon as caleb finishes speaking, your eyes light up. “really?! okay, stay there! i’m going to get my purse-”

caleb grabs your wrist before you can run upstairs. “don’t worry, i’ve got it right here.” he magically pulls your purse out from behind his back, a smug grin on his face. “i knew you’d get angry at me, so i made some preparations.”

“you know me so well, do you?” you tease, giving caleb’s nose a playful boop. “then lead the way, my shining knight in armor.”

“my car is just out- ouch! okay, okay!” you slap caleb’s forearm before he ruins the moment. “right this way, my princess.”

when you arrive at the supermarket, you sprint to the yogurt section and grab two packs. “caleb! come help me grab two more!”

caleb, still walking toward you, laughs. “really? four packs in total? are you sure you can finish them?”

“of course! art you doubting me?” you huff. “you're the one who keeps eating my yogurt without letting me finish even one pack!”

“okay, i’ll let you get all four. but,” caleb drags out the word, “if you can’t finish them before they expire, i’m taking them with me on my missions. deal?”

“okay! deal!” you hold out your pinky, and caleb links it with his. “trust me, i’ll finish them while we do our movie marathon.”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” caleb nods.

(you, in fact, do not finish them in time. just three days before the expiration date, caleb takes three packs of yogurt with him to skyhaven.)

#as someone who has yogurt as his favorite safe food #this would be treason and i would give him so much hell for it #bring it up in passing months down the road too lol #i dont play when it comes to my yogurt!!!

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archivesofthevoid · 4 months ago

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We have places for gaming tips, art, OCs/MCs (that are not just fem aligned!! As I myself am a trans man lmao), and more!!

If you're interested, please don't be afraid to DM me asking for the link!! We'd love to have you aboard the Deepspace Tunnel with us! :))

#love and deepspace #loveanddeepspace #lads #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads caleb #lads rafayel #loveanddeepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads fanart #loveanddeepspacefanart #loveanddeepspacemc #loveanddeepspaceoc #love and deepspace oc #love and deepspace mc

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archivesofthevoid · 4 months ago

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poisoned

pairing: none

main protagonists: Lucifer, Diavolo, gn!Reader

word count: ~3k

genre: hurt/comfort (more hurt than comfort), angst, whump

cw: near death experience (please do tell me if there's something else that needs a cw!)

summary: Not everyone approves of Lord Diavolo's exchange program.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was a certain tension in the air during the banquet Lord Diavolo hosted to celebrate the beginning of the exchange program; while everyone smiled politely or at least held carefully neutral expressions on their faces, nothing could hide the blatant disdain in some of their eyes. You tried not to be affected by the stares burning into your back, but it was difficult. It had been a mere week since you’d been transported into the Devildom and you were still adjusting to the new environment. To say that you were struggling would have been an understatement - you were surrounded by immortal and potentially dangerous beings, constantly reminded of your fragility and insignificance in comparison to them. Living in the House of Lamentation with the Avatars of Sin wasn’t without stress either, you were always subjected to their eccentric behaviors and arguments.

An unexpected touch on your shoulder nearly made you yelp, and you bit your tongue to stifle the sound. Heart throbbing in your chest, you turned towards whoever had touched you and tentative relief washed over you when you recognized Asmodeus.

“You look ravishing, darling,” he cooed, linking his arm with yours, “well, not quite as ravishing as me, of course, but that’s to be expected.”

He gracefully led you to the tables, talking about how stunning your outfit was - he had picked it out himself - as he walked, while you stayed silent, too focused on not accidentally tripping over your own feet and embarrassing yourself in front of what was probably the majority of Devildom’s aristocracy. The guests were taking their assigned seats one by one and to your horror, you noticed Asmodeus was deliberately walking you to the seating places of Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, and the Purgatory Hall group - a single free spot was between the two demons.

“No, no no no, you can’t be serious,” you whispered to Asmo, hoping the people around you didn’t have such superior hearing that they would be able to make out your words, “they're all going to stare at me! They already are! Why don’t you sit there in my stead, you want to be in the spotlight, don’t you?”

The Avatar of Lust giggled and pulled the chair out, helping you get seated, then he leaned down to murmur into your ear, “As much as I would like that, you’re supposed to be the star of today’s evening, my dear.”

Giving you a wink, he withdrew and sauntered over to the opposite side of the long table, leaving you stuck amidst the prince and the eldest of the brothers. You could feel Lucifer’s critical gaze on you, however, you refused to look at him, opting to watch the attendees instead, being careful not to establish eye contact with anyone. After just a short moment, Lord Diavolo said your name cheerfully, redirecting your attention to him.

“Ah, I can’t wait to officially introduce you to everybody,” he beamed, and it took all of your willpower not to jump out of your seat and run out.

“Yeah… me neither…” you mumbled, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Lucifer cleared his throat, and you shifted your face towards him before he smoothly remarked, “I’m sure you will do perfectly fine and behave appropriately, won’t you?”

Swallowing hard, you promptly corrected your posture, sitting up straight again. His eyes were piercing through yours until you swiftly averted your gaze, this time letting it settle on the plate and cutlery in front of you. Someone from behind you poured an odd-looking liquid into your glass and you eyed it suspiciously. It didn’t look like any beverage you’ve ever had in your realm, so you assumed it was demonus. Nervously watching the others take their glasses, you decided to follow suit, grasping the fragile object with your shaking hands.

As you watched the cloudy white fluid sloshing around, a jarring, ominous feeling swept over you. Everything inside you screamed to put the drink aside, not to consume it, but you ignored your instinct, attributing it to you simply being hyper-vigilant and nervous. You bit the bullet and brought it to your lips, tilting it back and gulping it down in one go before placing it on the wooden surface. Embarrassment burned on your cheeks once you saw everybody was drinking theirs slowly. Even so, you were unable to dwell on that further once the flavor hit you and you barely managed to avoid grimacing; it was pleasantly sweet at first, though eventually there came a nauseating aftertaste burning in your throat. It made your eyes water and you rapidly blinked, trying to rid yourself of the tears. Out of nowhere, a terrifying thought popped into your head: what if your drink had been poisoned? As abruptly as this notion had crossed your mind, you quickly shook it off when, after a bit, the taste dissipated. Who would be so bold to try to poison you, the prized human exchange student, at an event hosted by Lord Diavolo himself while you were quite literally sitting next to him?

Exhaling a shaky breath, you focused on the prince beside you who started addressing the guests with a speech. You were unable to understand his words; a loud rushing in your ears drowned all the noises out and your pulse was thumping in your throat. Confused by the abrupt onset of physical symptoms of anxiety, you took slow, deep breaths, knowing it would be over sooner or later. You nodded slightly whenever it seemed appropriate based on Lord Diavolo's body language and whatever snippets of sentences you picked up on to look like you were listening. It took a while, but when he was finally done, he smiled at you and you reciprocated, even if you weren’t sure exactly how forced it looked. He stood up along with everyone else, the attendees gradually mingling with each other again. It was obvious what was going to happen now; he would begin introducing you to the various important people of this realm. Anxiously, you rose as well, a wave of heat coursing through your body as you did so, feeling your legs wobble under your weight and your heart rate spiking. Looking around yourself, you noticed that your vision was hazy, yet you could still feel demons staring at you and hear their snickering. Turning back towards Lord Diavolo who was standing in front of you, you attempted to make out what he was saying; your efforts, however, were fruitless.

“Fresh air”, you managed to choke out, “I’ll get some fresh air.”

With that you spun on your heel, leaving the hall and ignoring all the voices surrounding you that were increasing in volume, but remained abstruse and unintelligible to you. All of a sudden, a person blocked your path and you were able to hazily make out red eyes, narrowing dangerously at you. Disregarding their presence completely, you pushed past them, continuing your way out. By the time you were alone, in a quiet hallway, you were wondering how you had been able to walk at all, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. Still, you moved on, steadying yourself against the walls with one arm. The contrasting silence made you more aware of how noisy the whirring in your ears was, and how ragged your breathing had become as the heat in your body intensified. Head spinning, you stumbled through the hallways, having no idea where you were; you could have been in the castle’s dungeons for all you knew.

Despite the fog in your mind, you began to realize this was not anxiety; it had to be something entirely different. You faintly remembered the drink you had been served earlier - had it been just a few minutes since then or hours? Did someone actually poison you?

Before you could ponder on that question any further, pain exploded in your torso, making you clutch your chest and sending you falling to the ground. Unable to get up or even call for help, you could only clench your teeth while your breaths came in bursts, tears pooling in your eyes. The floor underneath you was blissfully cold as you ended up lying motionless on your side, almost paralyzed by the pain.

After some time, black dress shoes appeared in your view; their wearer quickly knelt next to you, and a gloved hand reached out towards you. When you let out a startled yelp, it temporarily paused in the air, then resumed its movements. The muddled shushing sounds did nothing to ease your fear, and the two fingers pressing against your neck didn’t either. Your pulse was pounding beneath the warm leather of the gloves and you could hear indistinct words, loosely resembling curses. The hand disappeared for a moment before it gently nudged your shoulder, coaxing you into rolling on your back. Someone was hovering over you, but all you could make out was the blurry silhouette of what you assumed must have been a demon. Whether they were here to finish their job or not, you did not know, and you were too weak to defend yourself.

Suddenly, the fingers - now bare - brushed over your face, the touch cool on your heated cheeks. Not able to stop yourself you whined, pushing up into the hand, not caring about the potential intentions they had. Soon, a second hand joined, mirroring the actions of the other, providing you with relief. However, it was short-lived; murmured, unfamiliar words that resonated with power filled your ears, and a strange pulling sensation emanated from the fingers on you. It was as if, somehow, it was reaching into your body, your soul, searching for something. You felt like your insides were being set on fire and it was trying to eat its way out of you, breaching through each and every cell. All you could do was cry out and sob, hot tears scorching your skin. The person wiped away the incessant tears, but they didn’t cease what they were doing, and you were certain that they truly were there to kill you.

Slowly, your vision became less blurred and you were able to make out a vaguely familiar face gazing down at you, red eyes that had glared at you with discontent previously were now a mix of concern and anger.

“… L-Lu… cifer…?” You managed to slur, tongue heavy in your mouth and pain clawing relentlessly at you. The demon you presumed to be Lucifer responded, but you were unable to comprehend even a single word.

“S-stop, please, please m-make it stop,” you pleaded with him while you were gasping for air. He held your gaze as you begged for mercy and the intensity in his demeanor seemed to subside. The grip on your cheeks softened and the overwhelming sensations eased. Your sight and hearing cleared further and eventually, you identified Lucifer to be the one kneeling by your side. Before you could say anything, however, a hand moved from your cheek to your brow, covering your eyes as well.

“Sleep,” was the first thing you were able to hear - and also the last, then you were plunged into darkness.

As you came to, you found yourself lying on a soft surface, slightly propped up, and a light fabric was draped over your body. Gradually, you regained awareness of your surroundings; you could feel the way your clothes were clinging to you, and just how drained you were. Some distance away, there were hushed voices, seemingly arguing with one another, and you could make out a couple of fragmented sentences from one person.

“… all due respect, my lord… warned you… you were naive to… the human… everything at risk… lucky that nothing…”

You blinked your eyes open, taking in the room blearily before your gaze landed on two people - a guilty-looking Lord Diavolo and an angry Lucifer. And as if the latter had a sixth sense, his head immediately snapped towards you and the argument ceased. The men promptly strode over to you, Lucifer sitting on the chair right next to the bed you were resting on, while Lord Diavolo stood in the background, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Lucifer's hand grazed over your forehead, brushing strands of hair that were sticking to the skin aside, feeling the lingering heat radiating off you. His fingers then went to your neck, checking your pulse once more. It was eerily silent as he attentively assessed your condition, and you felt awfully tired. Your body was aching; all you wanted was to return to blissful unconsciousness. But as soon as you closed your eyes, fingertips tapped insistently on your cheek until you opened them again with a groan.

“You must stay awake for now,” Lucifer asserted firmly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I'm alive,” you muttered hoarsely. He let out a long-suffering sigh at that while Lord Diavolo tensed up even more.

“Evidently, you are well enough to joke around. I suppose that is a good sign. Nevertheless - and I can not overemphasize this - you did nearly die. Consider yourself lucky that I found you when I did. A few minutes later and you would have succumbed to the poison.”

Reclining in the chair, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixed you with an appraising gaze. You attempted to sit up, but the pain shooting through you and Lucifer’s scowl made you lie back down. Finally, Lord Diavolo stepped closer to you and you observed his strained expression; you had never seen him like that before, and you almost felt bad about getting poisoned at his banquet.

“I’m terribly sorry that this has happened. Please accept my sincerest apologies and the assurance that nothing of this sort will ever occur again,” his voice sounded subdued and quiet.

“It’s not your fault, Lord Diavolo, you couldn’t have known.”

“He did know. I warned him that this could happen and yet, he refused to listen to me”, Lucifer huffed.

“Maybe because you always assume that the worst will happen, and then it never does. Well, this time it did, but-”

“I beg your pardon?” he halted your thoughtless retort with an indignant glare, making you shut up instantly. “As you should have noticed by now, not assuming that the worst could happen at all times is what will get you killed in the Devildom. I am merely trying to keep you alive, although you seem all but keen on seeking your death here with the amount of trouble you have managed to find yourself in since your arrival.”

Lucifer shook his head and sighed heavily before standing up.

“I have matters to attend to. Namely, finding the culprit”, he stated calmly as he walked towards the door, “Lord Diavolo, we will continue our conversation at a later time.”

With the Avatar of Pride out of the room, Lord Diavolo took the seat. His eyes were everywhere but on you while he was wringing his hands.

“Lord Dia-” you began, only to be interrupted by him.

“No. Please, just call me Diavolo,” he uttered, now looking at you, “I’ve put you in grievous danger because I believed no one would dare harm you on the castle’s premises. It was foolish of me to think that, and I must apologize for the distress I inadvertently caused you.”

“But you didn’t mean to, Diavolo. I’m not mad at you,” you explained and you tried sitting up again to be more at eye level with him. He quickly steadied you and helped you lean against the headboard. Pained whimpers bubbled in your throat and you clenched your jaw to suppress them as you shifted your position - you didn't want to make him feel even worse. However, it didn’t escape his notice and he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of your upper arms. His touch was cautious, as if he was scared of hurting you further. The prince looked at you for a moment before he moved his hands to your shoulders, his thumbs lightly stroking over them in a comforting manner.

“Seeing you like that… unconscious, barely holding onto life while Lucifer brought you back from the brink…” Diavolo finally said, his voice cracking, “It made me realize how frail you truly are. And… that I wish to get to know you properly. I don’t want to waste any more precious time, not when a human’s life is so short and delicate. And I promise you, from now on I will do better in ensuring your safety.”

The serious look on Diavolo's face was dizzying, so you simply nodded slowly. Just as he was about to speak again, Barbatos entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea.

“Ah. I see you have regained consciousness. How are you feeling?” Asked the butler.

“I'm doing alright,” you replied easily. Diavolo tightened his grip on you a little, almost imperceptibly so, no doubt having recognized your lie. Giving you a lenient smile, Barbatos set the tray on the nightstand next to you.

“You will be alright. Eventually,” he spoke, his words heavy with meaning, before bowing and exiting the room, leaving you alone with Diavolo. With his hands still resting comfortingly on your shoulders, he frowned as he watched his butler leave.

Not wanting to further aggravate the ache that was plaguing your body, you suppressed the urge to shake your head. 51 weeks left. You just had to make it through 51 more weeks.

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archivesofthevoid · 5 months ago

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Darlin' I'm Right Here

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 3am last night and because I wrote this at 3am last night and then went down a rabbit hole of rereading fanfics, I did not get enough sleep to do any work

Anyway I just think it would be neat if Sylus could carry me around please and thank you

Title from "Butterfly's Repose" by Zabawa

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, caretaking, kissing, cuddling, undressing (and redressing), casual intimacy, established relationship, crying

Word Count: 1,659

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third Love and Deepspace Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus looks over as the door opens and quietly shuts again. He watches you, a silent observer, as you drop your stuff to the floor and push it aside with your foot. Your movements are sluggish as you pull off your winter coat and the sweatshirt underneath. A low sigh passes your lips as you work at undoing the knots in your boot laces - and that's when he comes over.

You see his shadow, feel his presence, and stand up straight once more. He tilts his head, brow furrowed slightly; you look so tired, so worn out, and moisture is collecting on your lower eyelids. Your pitiful sniff only confirms his suspicions.

He doesn't say anything as he kneels down by your feet. He unties the knots you struggled with moments ago, undoes the laces enough for your feet to slip out easily. You use his shoulder as support when he lifts one foot and slips your boot off, then the other. Both are set aside in a tray where they can continue drying off without dripping melted snow on the wood floors.

You watch him as though in a daze. He stands and your eyes follow, lacking their usual vibrancy and life. They only shine now because of the tears you hold back.

He bends down, gently guiding your arms around his neck. "Hold on, kitten," he orders softly. Your hands lock together behind his head. Your face finds its place tucked in his shoulder, tightly so as to block out the rest of the world around you. His hands hold the back of your thighs as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He feels your breaths just as you feel his. Hears each shuddering inhale and shaky exhale beside his ear. He tilts his head to the side to rest upon yours, rubbing his cheek against your head affectionately. He hopes it really was just a bad day that is upsetting you so much. If he hears even a hint of a whisper that someone said or did something to his darling lover, he won't hesitate to deal with it, permanently.

Each step is a gentle sway, a soothing rocking. You feel like a child clinging to their parent, pretending to be asleep as they carry you to bed. You feel small, but not in a bad way. Small, yet protected. Secure. You cling a little tighter to him and he adjusts your hips higher against him to keep you there.

The villa you've practically claimed as a home is smaller than his usual estates, though still quite large considering only two people live here at any one time. It's much larger than your old apartment. At least here he can actually move around the kitchen comfortably and shower without needing to duck under the spray of the shower head.

He carries you through the familiar floor plan to your bedroom, and then further into the ensuite bathroom. He's immensely careful when he sets you down at last on the countertop beside the sink. Though, he doesn't pull away. Doesn't force you to, either. Instead, he holds your hip and massages at your lower back, giving you the time you need. There's no rush. There's never a rush with him.

With a small inhale to give you strength, you finally pull away. Tears make tracks down your cheeks. A wet spot stains his shirt. He brushes away the tears on one cheek, and kisses them away on the other.

"Do you want to take a shower, sweetie?" he asks. You shake your head. He kisses your cheek again warmly.

Instead of a shower, he reaches into a cabinet and pulls down a washcloth. One handed, he turns on the warm water and holds his fingers under the tap as he waits for it to get to the perfect temperature. The cloth's fabric turns dark once he holds it under the water, soaked through. He squeezes out the excess and turns off the tap, before brushing it gently over your cheeks.

You close your eyes and give in to his tender care. With no sound aside from a sniffle here and there, Sylus wipes away the sticky tear tracks. He soothes the cloth under your eyes, easing out the tension and tiredness with its warmth. You shiver involuntarily when the cloth touches your neck, lightly wetting your throat with enough pressure to avoid tickling you.

Once he's satisfied with his work, he sets the cloth on the side of the sink. His hands, warm and lightly damp, find your hips, then your thighs, wordlessly warning you just before he lifts you up once more.

He doesn't carry you far, just into the bedroom. He rests you at the end of the bed, your legs hanging off to the floor while the rest of your body is laid back against the plush bedding. He kisses your forehead as he gently coaxes your arms from around his neck. "Wait here."

You crack your eyes open to watch as he goes to your dresser. With familiarity, he pulls out a few things, chief among them two types of pants and two types of shirts. He carries them over and sets them on either side of you on the bed. He holds up the pants first.

"Which one?" In one hand is a pair of long pajama pants. In the other, a pair of shorts. You point lazily at one, and he sets them down.

Kneeling down by your feet once more, he removes your socks and your pants. Normally, on any other day, there would be a heat in his gaze. A dripping, dark lust in his eyes as they roam your legs up to your underwear. Now, there's not even a hint of such a thing. He looks at your legs in the same way he looks at his guns as he maintains them, with an undeniable presence of care and dedication, and the warmth of wanting to take care of you in the best ways he knows how. He always claims to be bad at comforting people, yet he finds the perfect ways to tend to you every time.

He slips the pants you chose on you, pulling them up along your legs. You don't even have to lift your hips up - he does so for you with a large hand under your lower back.

"Do you want your fuzzy socks?" He smiles when you nod. You're always so endearing to him. You've perfectly curled within his heart, laying claim to it as your own. Its beats change with your emotions and actions. Right now, it beats softly, but steadily, as your eyes follow him back to the dresser to retrieve a pair of your fuzzy socks and then watch as he slips them onto your feet. It will beat louder tomorrow, he’ll make sure of it.

He stands and lifts up the shirts. One is a baggy t-shirt you "stole" from him a while ago. ("Stole" because Sylus is not a man who often wears t-shirts. This particular shirt is one you bought for him and commanded him to wear for a couple of days leading up to your visit, whereupon you claimed it for yourself.) The other is a tank top. You choose which one you'd rather wear tonight and he sets them aside.

He playfully pulls you into a sit, tangling his fingers with yours and tugging you up to him. He leans down to kiss your head. Warm fingers brush your skin as he removes your shirt from today. It winds up in a pile with your pants and socks.

The shirt you chose is soon pulled over your head. Your arms are guided through just the same. He leans down to make sure it settles comfortably around your body, and you use the opportunity to draw your fingers lightly under his chin. All his focus is on you immediately.

He is completely pliant under your touch. You could do anything - have him do anything. He is at your whim.

With the barest pressure, you draw him in, meeting his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. His lips are always so soft and plush. They don't seek for more than you give, only taking what you decide to offer, without a hint of a complaint. When your fingers fall from his skin, he lightly pulls away, heavy-lidded eyes peeking open to search your face for answers, to know what you want. One more kiss, and one more, before you're satisfied. He pulls away.

Your dirty clothes are dropped into the hamper. The clothes you didn't choose are left on top of your dresser to be put away later. He goes to place you in bed properly, but is stopped by your slight frown and the flicker of your eyes over his clothes. He grins. He can feel your eyes on him as he changes his own clothes, trading them in for some sweatpants that rest low on his hips and a tank top that shows off his arms. You're smiling contentedly when he approaches this time.

He lifts you up, but does not set you down again. Instead, he slips into bed with you in his arms, holding you close as he ensures you're comfortable. Not that you complain; you keep him trapped there with the way your legs hug him and with your head tucked under his chin. He rubs up and down your back with one hand. The other holds your hand over his heart.

The day that upset you feels lightyears away as your body relaxes against Sylus's. The cold and snow outside don't exist as he kisses your head and stops rubbing your back in favor of massaging the back of your neck. No concerns for tomorrow. No worries about what will come next. Just the gentle coaxing of his breaths, luring you into a much needed nap.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

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archivesofthevoid · 5 months ago

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ADHD reader x LaDS headcanons

Summary: My headcanons on how the LaDS men would be with a reader who has ADHD. Content: Sylus x reader, Xavier x reader, Rafayel x reader, Zayne x reader, Caleb x reader (separate), ADHD mention, impulse control issues, money management issues, inattentiveness, forgetfulness, hyperfixations, Caleb being toxic™, a smidgen of angst, fluff, gn!reader, no reader pronouns mentioned (1.4k wc) A/N: These are some headcanons I wrote in response to a request I received on AO3. I included some of the traits mentioned based on personal experience with my loved ones + ones mentioned in the request.

To my ADHD babies: I hope y’all like this ♡

Sylus – impulse control issues + poor money management

You and Sylus have been dating for a few months now, and during that time he’s become well acquainted with a few things:

You are diagnosed with ADHD You are impulsive when it comes to fun purchases You struggle with money management

He has seen how you put yourself into tight financial situations because you cannot resist buying a special edition plushie that just released at midnight.

On multiple occasions you have spent countless hours and your last dollar at the arcade trying to nab a plushie that is smooshed into the corner of the claw machine. Some days you get the plushie you want and other days you don’t. But in either scenario, you end up eating ramen noodles until your next paycheck hits.

Although you have tried to hide this impulsive side of yourself, Sylus doesn’t miss a single thing about you. He has eyes, ears and a crow at his disposal in and outside of the N109 Zone.

He has no interest in trying to “correct” this part of you, instead he tries to help you in his own way.

He gives you his black card so you can impulsively purchase whatever you want, guilt free. And when you refuse to use it, he replaces your payment information with his on each website you frequently use to go shopping.

You eventually notice this and re-enter your information, but Sylus would follow up and replace it with his card information once again. He was relentless, and eventually you gave in.

He also (secretly) became the owner of the arcade you frequent so you get unlimited coins and can hog the claw machine for as long as you like without being disturbed.

He never wants you to fall behind on your bills or have to skip a fun purchase due to the limitations of your bank account. Sylus is filthy rich and has everything he could ever ask for, including you.

Nothing else in this world gives him as much pleasure as fulfilling your desires and he will always strive to do so.

Rafayel – lost in thought/ignore your surroundings

Every time Rafayel meets you in a new timeline, he notices small differences. In one you were a member of the royal family desperate to escape your responsibilities, in another you were an author, and in this one…he’s not quite sure what to make of you yet.

You were noticeably introspective, to the point that you often get lost in your thoughts. Blocking out any and every attempt to get your attention unless he is exceedingly persistent.

At first, this concerned him because he thought you weren’t interested in him. It felt like the ultimate rejection, and it hurt him deeply in way that he could only express in Lemurian.

But as you got to know each other you shared with him that you are diagnosed with ADHD. Which results in your inattentiveness.

Rafayel was relieved to have an explanation for this phenomenon and from that day he forms a new habit in response.

When you two are hanging out at his place, yours or in public he always carries a sketchbook with him. He never misses the opportunity to depict your visage when you are lost in the multitude of thoughts that race through your head.

Luckily for him, your mind wanders frequently when you’re together, and so far he has five sketchbooks filled entirely with your beautiful face. Some of the sketches are unfinished and others are completed with color, it just depends on when you come back to him.

Rafayel is always patient with you and never tries to “fix” you because you are his perfectly imperfect muse.

Caleb – impulsivity, daydreaming, hyperfixations

Caleb knows everything about you, from the various ways ADHD manifests in your daily life, to the fact that thunderstorms scare you.

He has witnessed your impulsiveness firsthand when it comes to jumping headfirst into danger. And although he’s seen it time and time again, it never makes it easy for him to bear. He feels overwhelmingly protective of you, he wants to hold you close and never let go. But he knows that you value your freedom and independence. So, he tries to dampen his controlling tendencies. At least the very obvious ones.

There are times when he has been mid-conversation with you, only for you to stop replying. And when he looks over, he can already tell that you’re lost in your own world. He takes this time to observe you with no repercussions. To really take you in, because you always berate him for his “creepy” staring otherwise.

And for completely selfish reasons he loves the fact that you’re currently hyperfixated on him since he’s returned from the dead. You may try to hide it, but he can tell that you’re absolutely obsessed with him. He thinks it’s sooooo cute how you blow up his phone, want to occupy all of his time when he is in Linkon and how you bombard him with question after question about what he got up to during his time away.

He knows that sometimes your hyperfixations don’t last long. But there are some you’ve held onto since you were kids. He secretly hopes that your hyperfixation on him lasts a lifetime, as wrong as that may be.

Although he feels a little guilty about enjoying it so much, he is in love with you. He wants no one else and it gives him a rush to know that you feel the same, in your own way.

Xavier – forgetfulness + daydreaming

Xavier has traversed time and space to find you again and keep you safe. He cherishes every moment he gets to spend like it was his last.

When he opens up to you, you feel comfortable enough to do the same. During your heart to hearts you share with him that you have ADHD. It affects your memory in a way that is hard to describe, but you settle on the description of “out of sight out a mind.” This combined with your tendency to get lost in your own thoughts has resulted in more than a few mishaps throughout your life.

Once Xavier is aware of this, he makes it his mission to always be by your side, so you don’t forget him. You try to explain that that would be impossible because he is such an important person to you and also your mission partner, but he is stubborn. Because to him, nothing could be worse than you, the light of his life, forgetting that he existed. Even for a brief moment.

When you lose track of time and almost miss an appointment, Xavier is there to teleport you to your destination.

When you almost miss work because you forgot to set your alarm for the 10th time in the past 2 weeks, he is gently nudging you awake.

He does not see your inattentiveness and forgetfulness as character flaws. They are just a part of what makes you uniquely you.

If Xavier has to serve as your personal planner and alarm clock sometimes, he doesn’t mind. Because you are the most important person to him.

Zayne – hyperfixation

Zayne has a sharp memory, so when you two meet again as adults he is already aware that you have ADHD tendencies. Now he sees you have an official diagnosis once he accesses your medical records for the first time.

He has a logical explanation for why you engage in the behaviors that others may find frustrating to deal with, like your almost unbreakable concentration when you are hyperfixated on something.

Your brain lacks dopamine, so you are naturally drawn to stimulating activities, which results in you locking in when a new activity, show, or topic captures your attention.

Zayne would never push medication used to manage ADHD on you, unless you expressed interest in them.

He would actively monitor you when you get into one of those hyper focused moods though. He would periodically bring you water, meals/snacks, snap you out of your trance for stretch breaks and urge you to sleep if you show no signs of winding down for the day.

IMO Zayne would be a very accommodating partner because he knows medically what’s going on and he would never get annoyed with you for chasing what fuels you.

But there is one stipulation, he wants to be by your side to make sure that you are properly caring for yourself. Because your health and wellbeing mean the world to him, as your doctor and your partner.

#the way this makes me feel so validated bc my adhd actually has me hyperfixated on lads rn #these men have me in a chokehold #especially Sylus and Zayne but the others creep up every now and then too

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