devilsudon

[devilsudon]

Checkout

Sylus finally got you to be comfortable with spending his money. He loves taking care of you and spoiling you, so he’s glad you’re finally taking advantage of it. Except, he enjoys it a little too much. And you love teasing him about it.

tags: sub!sylus, gn!reader, edging, begging, handjob, smut, might be ooc

a/n: I haven’t written anything in so long but I arrived at the airport so early I just wanted to write. I think Sylus is a switch, he literally wants MC to claim him. Also, in night of secrecy he said he’s not ready to give us control YET. And I’m banking on that “yet” so hard we need more sub!sylus in this world.

You and Sylus are laying in his bed, your head on his chest with his arm around you as you both stare at your phone in his hand. It all started when you were scrolling and got an ad for some cute clothes and sent it to Sylus. You clicked the link for the brand, and ended up sending him more and more links because everything looked so cute! Then you got another ad for another store and.. now you’re here.

“But what is it made of? I don’t want something that’ll be scratchy, I want it soft.”

“I know,” Sylus drawled amused, “Although my shirts that you steal aren’t very soft, you know.” He looks down at his sweater on YOUR body, and nothing else. Even though he got you pajamas, his sweater found its way into your claws hands.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, “I hope it’s 100% cotton.” Sylus focused back on the phone to check.

“I can get this made for you if it’s not.” Your hand snuck its way to his chest, rubbing soothingly and gently over his open chest from his robe. His breath hitches. “Would you… like that, sweetie?”

“Yeah, maybe if they don’t have a color I want too..” You absently say, still looking at the screen as he continued to scroll.

But that, that planted a seed of deep satisfaction in Sylus. It took him so long to get you to be comfortable with using his money, with asking for things unapologetically. There’s still room for improvement, especially emotionally, but you agreeing to custom made clothing because a store doesn’t have what you want is making his body hum.

That, and your hand started dipping lower and lower, ’till it’s basically under his robe, playing with his lower abs. It’s a bit sensitive, especially all the touches on his chest, so he flinches away. “Kitten, just where are you touching?”

“Hmmm??” You give him an “innocent” wide eyed stare, like you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He stares at you a little longer, soaking in the playfulness of your gaze. “Provoking me is unwise.”

“But I’m not doing anything?” You reply in the sweetest voice you can, as you still rub over his v line and hold back a grin.

“Mhmmmm…” Sylus’ soft agreement is interrupted by another hitch in his breath as you let your hand wrap around the base of his cock.

“Wait, click on that one.” Sylus looks back at his phone screen, totally forgetting what he was doing for a second.

“Which,” he lets out a shaky breath as you drag your fist up, “which one?”

“The burgundy one.” He clicks on the picture of a cute burgundy hoodie, and immediately clicks your size and scrolls to the materials. “Oh good! Cotton.” At your approval, he adds to cart as you continue to stroke his dick. “Scroll down, I wanna see if there’s matching sweatpants.”

At your demand, he does as he’s told, and finds the matching sweatpants. He clicks it, gets your size, checks the material, and adds to cart, all without you saying anything. “Just that color, sweetie? Or,” he breathes deeply, “another color?”

“Hmmm let me see.” Scrolling back up to the color options, you end up getting three more colors of both the hoodie and the sweatpants. And with each item he added to the cart, you stroked him faster.

You ended up getting 10 pairs of socks, 6 tops, 4 jackets, and now you’re looking at jeans when Sylus finally speaks up.

“Sweetie,” Sylus breathes out, “please just..”

“Hold on, should I get the one with rips or no rips?” The wet sounds of how much precum leaking from him fills the room alongside your voice.

“Both, just- just get both.” He’s close to hyperventilating at how desperate he is, and he’s trying to hold in his grunts and moans as best as possible.

“Orrrrr how about the barrel jeans? You draw out your question, squeezing Sylus’s tip.

“That too, come on kitten please,” Holding onto the last bit of dominance he has, he holds onto your forearm with the arm that’s wrapped around you. As if that’s gonna do anything.

“Shhhhh. Light or dark blue?” At that, Sylus lets out a whine. He throws his head back against the pillow, where he slumped down lower and lower through the process. “Aww, what are you whining about? Hmm?”

He lets go of your arm to put it back on the phone. He looks at you, pleading with his eyes to just finish him off, let him fuck you good, but huffs and looks away when he’s met with a teasing glance from you. “I’ll get all of the colors, sweetie. Just finish.. finish what you’re doing, ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ.”

“Well hurry up and add to cart then!” He does just that, and goes to the check out page. The information should automatically fill out, except.. it doesn’t.

“Oops, looks like I forgot to add your card to my phone.” He looks at you in disbelief and you’re smirking as you squeeze his cock.

“Sweetie, come on, I-“ He looks at the phone again. “I’m sure I put it in here for you, I-“ He desperately taps around the phone, going to your wallet app, and finding nothing.

“Noo.. when it updated it deleted for some reason and I didn’t put it back in….” Your voice is full of mock remorse.

“My- my wallet, uhm,” Sylus really has to think, his brain is so scrambled and he was so close, and oh god this is gonna take so long, “It’s uh…” He looks to his left, and oh thank god, he left it by his phone on the nightstand. He quickly grabs it and takes out his black card, just for you to snatch it away from him with your free hand.

“Here, I’ll read it for you.” You slowed down your strokes, and Sylus pushed his head back again in a small tantrum. “Come on.”

He looks at the phone and goes to the numbers part of the keypad.

“Threeeee…… Fourrrrr….. Sixxxxx……”

“I can type faster than-“

“Uh uh. No talking back! I need to make sure it’s correct.” He grumbles and furrows his eyebrows. At each number you draw out, he diligently types. Same thing for the expiration date, and all he needs is the security code before he can-

“Read it out to me.”

“What, kitten it’s correct, I recognize it, come on this is ridicul-“

You squeeze really hard at the base of his cock, which gets him to shut up and squeeze his eyes shut and hold in a whine. “What did I say.”

Sylus catches his breath again, before he reads out the numbers he typed. Except he only gets half way before you stop him again.

“Wait, that was too fast, start over.” Sylus takes his hand that’s not wrapped around you to cover his eyes.

“Kitten, this torture that you’re bestowing on me is cruel.”

“Well it’ll only last longer if you don’t read it again.”

“You’ll regret antagonizing me so.”

“Mhm. Hurry up.”

With a shaky breath, he reads out the numbers, slower this time. With each number, you begin to stroke faster and faster.

Finally, you read out the security code and he puts it in, thank god his address is saved, and he quickly clicks and clicks until he gets to the review order section. He’s about to click past when you stop him. He’s panting, hard, his chest moving up and down as you read the screen to make sure everything is correct while still stroking him fast and hard.

“Please, please sweetie… I’m so close, please.”

“Mmmm.. Go ahead.” At that, he takes that as the green light to finally click the checkout button and permission to come. And he does, his seed soaking your hard and getting on his robe, as he thrusts into your hand, chasing the pleasure as a reward for being a good boy and buying you everything you want. He lets out a broken moan, a little shout of relief from the tension that was building.

He comes down from his high, and can clearly see the order confirmation page. He looks down at you, with all your satisfaction, and lets out a sigh. “I spoiled you rotten, huh?”

You only giggle at his words, as he pushes you down onto the bed and gets in between your legs. “Well, it’s my turn to be indulged, kitten.”

[devilsudon]

“my angel is in pain and i didn’t notice it until now…”

sylus

sylus would notice everything. the small winces, the silent hesitation when standing, the way your hands tremble when holding something heavy. he’s a caregiver, you can’t hide it from him.

he wouldn’t confront you outright. instead, he’d sit beside you in quiet moments and say things like, “it’s okay to lean on someone, you know. you don’t have to do it all alone anymore.”

the first time you finally ask for help—maybe with your shoes or reaching for something—he doesn’t make a sound. he just kneels, handles it gently and looks up with warm, unwavering eyes. “i’m honored that you let me.”

to sylus, love means being present. he will never see your needs as weakness—just more reasons to be near you.

caleb

caleb would be the most emotionally rocked. he’s a protector by nature, and when he realizes you’ve been hiding your pain, it hits him hard.

you try to brush off your exhaustion with a laugh, but he catches your arm and gently says, “hey… why didn’t you tell me it hurts?”

he’d sit beside you, pull you into his arms, and hold you against his chest like he’s anchoring you to safety. “you’re not a burden. not to me. you could ask me to carry you every day and i’d thank you for it.”

expect lots of massages, warm baths drawn for you, and this boy learning everything about how to ease your muscle stiffness and whatever exhausts you. helping you would never feel like a chore, it would feel like devotion.

zayne

zayne wouldn’t even wait for you to ask. the first time you slow down or stumble, he’s already pulling you to his side with a breezy, “whoa, i got you.”

when you finally stammer that you didn’t want to be a burden, his face drops, like you just stabbed him in the chest. “burden? you? darling… if someone told you that before, they were dead wrong.”

he gets serious in that moment. raw, open emotion as he cradles your hand. after all he’s a doctor and he wants, no, he needs to help you. “i want to help. not because you need it, but because i love you. you don’t have to prove anything.”

he’ll start carrying a heating patch or a little comfort item for you without ever making a big deal about it. to him, this is just part of being your partner.

rafayel

rafayel is incredibly emotionally intuitive, but he respects your pride. he’ll wait, watching, quietly offering help without pressing, until you break down just once.

maybe you’re in pain and trying not to cry, and he just takes your hand and brings it to his lips. “you don’t have to suffer quietly for my sake. i have room in my heart for all of you. even the tired parts.”

he would turn your care into ritual, brushing your hair gently when your neck aches, rubbing your calves while reading to you aloud. “let me worship you. especially when you can’t.”

he’d never make you feel less-than. instead, he’d make you feel cherished in your vulnerability, like letting him in was an act of deep trust.

xavier

xavier is the hardest one to open up to, but once he learns the truth, his reaction is devastatingly gentle.

when you finally admit you’re afraid to ask for help, he doesn’t speak for a moment. he takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. “you don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.”

xavier doesn’t say it often, but when he does, it lands like a vow, “if you ever fall, i’ll be right there. every time. i won’t let you break.”

expect quiet accommodations—adjustments to tech so you can rest your muscles, silent understanding when you cancel plans. he won’t push, won’t ask. he’ll just be there, like gravity.

[devilsudon]

Overdrive! ♡

✎A/N; here it is babes!! sowwryyy for the eternal waittt! CALEB'S IS SOOO LONG OMG IDK WHAT HAPPEND Y'ALL!!! Regardless, rlly hope ur enjoying it^^ xoxo

SYNOPSIS. Requested by anon ↳ ❝ [..."YOUR WRITING IS DELECTABLE OMG. I was wondering if you’d ever consider writing the lads men with a reader who is insatiable/has a high sex drive and/or ovulating and has her way with him until he’s completely worn out/begging to take a break 🫠" ] ¡! ❞

FEAT. RAFAYEL. CALEB. SYLUS. XAVIER. ZAYNE. xfem!reader

TAGS. NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! MARATHON S€X!!!! breeding. size k!nk unprotected intercourse. dirty talk. gripping their a$$, oh em gee dirty mouth zayne??!!. prone bone in Xav's. doggy. ur insatiable lmao, overstim, riding, begging. slight dumbification in sum. messyyy s€x. Caleb matching your freak(per usual). lotsss of spit and drool. mirror s€x, oral (f & m receiving in caleb's), possessive guys. multiple positions. rough s€x.

ꪆৎ RAFAYEL

Your thighs are soaked and if you could, you'd feel embarrassed right now.

But that thought barely registers over the raw heat twisting in your belly. It's just the way Rafayel's broken moans and his hands trembling on your hips as you ride him that remind you just how much of a mess you are.

"Drippin' alllll over me, cutie," The wrecked gasp makes your pussy only embrace his cock in a snug hug, his grip on your hip tightening. "D-don't ya wanna take a lil break?— F-fuckkkk. M'—"

"N-nooooo, Raf'."

God, you're gonna be the death of him.

He's already at his wit's end, his spent cock barely holding onto the vicious grip of your greedy pussy. But once he heared your protesting whine over the obnonxious wet squelch squelch squelches of your sobbing cunt, he can feel his cock throbbing hard.

Your eyes meet the far back of your skull as you feel his girth swell, streeeetching your walls apart again so good.

"Don't wanna stop. Feels sooooo good, baby." The shy smile twitching up your plump lips is a stark contast to your ruthless hips slamming down onto his pelvis, and even though his dick is sweeling so angry he fears he might explode, he's still going to eat it up like he does every single time.

"Ohh-kay, cutie. G-gonna— gonna give my baby what she wants."

A strangled sound rips from his lungs as your walls clench around him again, cock twitching so frenzied inside you, glistening with your mixed juices, and so spent but still so ravenous to ram into you, deep.

He's flushed deep red now, your hands almost slipping from his sweat-slicked chest, coral locs sticking to his temple where he lies beneath you in a daze.

"Pretty." You spurt out, heat flooding your body as you take his face in hand, running your shaking flinger over his quivering, kiss-bitten lips. "You look so pretty Raf. Want— no need to—"

"F-fuck, baby, yer' gonna milk me dry," he chokes out, voice breaking on a whimper.

Oh, he's not lasting for long.

His eyes roll back as your walls clamp down on him again, fluttering so tight, so wet, it feels like your body's trying to wring every last drop out of him.

And you do.

Your hands slam down on his chest now, grinding down with reckless, mindless need. "Y-yes." you sweet growl, makes the hair on his neck stand up, teeth caging his lip. "Need you to fill me up, Raf. Need it sososo bad— hurts, it hurts!"

You bounce harder, thighs quivering, the obscene squelch of your slick echoing through the room with every punishing slam of your hips. His cock twitches inside you, overstimulated and swollen, flushed an angry red from how many times he's already shot his load into you, but your greedy cunt just won't let him go.

It’s damn near deafening—the relentless thwack, thwack, thwack of your ass slamming down onto his thighs.

The sound is soaked in slick, each impact wetter than the last. His spent, hot and thick cum already spilling out of you from your insatiable hunger, sticking messily to the insides of your thighs and the curve of your ass, smearing with every bounce, making everything sticky and so much worse.

“God, you're—fuck—you're making a mess of me, cutie," he gasps, clutching your waist like a lifeline, trying to slow you down, but your body has other plans. Your selfish walls tighten around him like a vice, milking his angry, flushed tip for every squirting spurt from his slit.

"I need you to cum again. Please," you cry out, grinding down deep, his cockhead kissing your cervix with each brutal drop of yours. "Wan' your cum, Raf! Need ya to fill me up again, wanna be stuffed, baby. Can't—nghhh!—can't stop until you breed me."

"Breed you?"

The sound he lets out is downright animalistic, his hips snapping up with brutal force, matching your pace with a ferocity that makes your eyes roll back. "Fuckin insatiable. Already dripping and it's still not enough, h-hahh?" He's fucking up into you now, ironclap grip on your hips surely leaving marks as your body jolts and falls ontop of his, your restless hips twisting and twitching against his brutal thrusts.

"G-gonna pump your greedy fucking pussy so full— o-ohhh, yeahhh."

You whimper is so high-pitched you barely recognize yourself anymore, body convulsing as your climax rips through you, and even in your haze you don't stop. You keep clenching, desperate to squeeze another load from his overstimulated, twitching cock.

He's babbling now, lost in it, eyes glazed and teeth clenched so tight he might break his jaw. "Ohhh, it's comin, m' cummin' take it take it take—"

"Mhmmm, give it ta me, Raf! Allll of it, one more, pleaseeee!"

At that, his slit spurts one last whispy load of cum into the depth of your pussy, and you grind happily down onto him to make it stay there, deep inside of you, humming in delight at the warmth flooding through you.

And as he feels your fluttering walls clench around him again, your hips slowly grinding down again, his head falls back against the sheets, a raw, desperate whimper escaping his throat.

Your walls clamp around him fiercely, squeezing so tight, demanding more.

He can't. He can't he can't he—

His hands dig into your ass, lifting you higher, up, up, up— until his cum seeps from your spent, dripping heat, a pleased sigh following suit.

But then your eyes meet his, wide and pleading, and your hands wrap around his slick, spent cock, fingers trembling as they stroke him, coated in his own mess.

Well, he can surely take—

"One more, please?"

Right?

ꪆৎ CALEB

Hot.

The only word to describe your feelings right now, because it has you wound up so tight, you're trembling. You think you might explode if you're sweet, teasing boyfriend won't fill you up this very moment.

But the way Caleb's looking at you in the mirror, he might beat you to it.

"You feel it too, don't you, Cay'?" you whisper, rocking your ass back against the bulge straining so painfully in his grey sweats.

They cling to him, snug and low on his hips, almost too tight. His bare chest is fully exposed, every cut of muscle gleaming under the low light of the room, your squirming shadow dancing over his skin and reflecting off the mirror.

His grin is sharp, eyes burning with hunger, preying over you through the mirror, a palm pressing to your lower belly, just below the waistband of your panties.

"Feel it? Baby, I smell it."

His voice is a growl against your skin, lips dragging slow and wet down the curve of your neck. He breathes you in, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from your neck all the way to the shell of your ear. "You're soaked."

You whimper as he rolls his hips, grinding his aching cock into you, still hidden beneath the fabric of his boxers. His other hand cups your throat from behind, guiding your gaze back to the mirror.

"Look."

You do.

"O-oh."

It's fucking obscene.

Your panties are halfway down your thighs, your legs shaking as you brace yourself against the dresser, your boyfriend's bare chest pressed to your back, hand tightening against your throat, almost daring you to look away.

Burning. Every fieber of your being is burning up, screaming at every slight touch of him. The faintest brush of his fingers against your skin sends you twitching.

A needy whimper slips out as you feel the thick press of his bulge grinding against your ass. You arch and roll your hips back into him, shamelessly, pleading without words, silently begging him to do something— anything, to ease this ache between your thighs before you actually go insane.

"In all these years together," he murmurs against your ear, voice low and dangerous. "I've never seen you like this, pips'. What's got you so hot and bothered tonight?"

You meet his eyes in the mirror before tearing them down to his fingers tugging at the hem of your panties.

"It's y-your fault. All because of—"

"Me?" His grip tightens, voice a whisper against your ear in surprise.

"Mhmmm."

"Hm. Can't have my baby all pouty now, can I?"

He whirls you around in one fluid motion, effortlessly scooping you up and tossing you onto the bed

Fuck that damned mirror, he wants the real thing.

He rips your panties the rest of the way off, strong biceps pushing your legs apart, groaning low in his throat at the sight of your weeping cunny, screaming for his attention.

"Oh fuckkk," he mutters, eyes wild and flickering between your glisterning pussy up to your flustered face. "T-this is—" he pauses, finger swiping through your folds to collect your slick, dick jumping in his pants as he sees your hole clenching around nothing, juices dripping in the process, "—heaven."

You whimper as he dips down to lick a stripe up your inner thigh, hot breath ghosting over your pussy. You could damn near scream from his endles teasing, damn near crying as your hips buck up towards his face with a frustrated groan. "N-no teasin'! Please, pleasepleaseplease—"

"Hush, baby. It's her turn now."

Before you can even think of quirking your eyebrows in question he's already burying his face between your thighs, and you let out a scream.

His tongue is fucking relentless, flicking the muscle over your clit with cruel precision before loooong drags collect your juices, his adam's apple bobbing as he's slurping up every drop.

It's like he's starving, and well, maybe he actually is.

His hot tongue circles your puffy button slow just to watch you twitch, then sucks it between his lips with so much force that your legs threathen to clamp around his head.

Until you actually do.

Thighs locking his head in place, your hands scrambling through his hair. He groans against your pussy, the sound feral, almost a whimper, sending vibrations straight through your core. Your fingers scramble through his thick brown locs, tangling and twisting until you're yanking them hard from the roots.

"Yeahhh, use me, baby. C'mon."

His rambles dissapear into your pussy, responding moan so filthy and needy. He could get used to this new neediness of yours.

God, he loves this.

He wraps his arms tighter around your thighs, locking you in place, and whining into your pussy like he's gone mad.

"Just like that, Cay'! Nghhh! don't stop, soooo good!"

Yeah, he's gone mad.

And you? You're gone.

Drooling, rutting your hips into his mouth without a shred of shame. Your body moves on instinct now, so lost in the pleasure that your eyes flutter shut, tummy sucking in as you feel yourself nearing your release.

Slurp, slurp, slurps fill the room and it's so messy— your juices coating the lower half of his face, some bleeding into the sheets below.

He glances up, pulling back just enough, and fuck, what a sight.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, wide and glassy pupils blown. A firm drip of drool escapes the corner of your mouth, tracing a long line down your chin. You sniffle softly, nose red and a thin sheen of sweat clings to your skin.

"My poor, poor baby."

The soft tone of his voice is a stark betrayal of what his mouth is doing to you.

His tongue is merciless, flicking and lapping at your folds with so much persicion, every lick calculated to push you further towards your limits.

He latches onto your clit with a groan, sucking hard, your thighs seizing up around his head in a headlock. Your fingers claw uselessly at the sheets, legs kicking, entire body coiled tight.

"G-god, Caleb! So good, don't stop, don't—"

Right then, your orgasm crashes over you with so much force, your head digs back into the matress. Your hips buck up wildly, unable to process the sudden pleasure washing over you, and your sweet, loving boyfriend licks you through it.

He just keeps going, keeps tasting you, even as your thighs shake and you try to twist away from from him, his wet hot tongue overwhelming you.

It's so much, too much, but still, you want—

"M-moreee! Wan' more! Need to—"

Smack!

The sharp sudden sting hits your soaked pussy before you can finish the sentence, palm cracking against your sensitive folds with a wet slap. You let out a loud, broken cry, your head twisting against the pillow as your thighs clamp together on instinct.

"No worries. Gonna give it to ya'."

Only then does he spread you open with both hands, thumbs dragging your slick folds apart to admire the way you twitch and throb. And only then does he finally pull back, tongue slipping out to taste you one last time, his chin and lips soaked, glistening with your juices.

He stays like that, lower face shining in your essance, to lazy to even bother wiping it away as his eyes lock onto you, pupils darkening.

And as he sees your hungry gaze he silently thanks the whole damn universe for your sudden neediness today.

Fucking finally a time for his inner freak to shine.

You're already moving before he says a word, scrambling weakly up onto your knees, hands clutching at his waistband like a woman possessed.

And maybe you are.

"Hurryyyyyy," you whimper, dragging the word out through a long sob. "P-please, baby! Pleaseeee, I want— Need you in me right now."

Oh, how impatient you are.

Eagerly, he shoves his sweats down and kicks them off, cock already flushed and leaking from the torture. He doesn't dare to tease, already climbing ontop of you to grab your hips, and drives into you in one deep thrust.

The stretch is so sharp and overwhelming that you scream out, white-hot blaze overcoming you.

Your walls clamp down around him so fiercely he groans, his pre squirting out with urgency, head falling back, eyes rolling shut.

He underestimated you.

"H-holy shit, baby—so damn tight— h-hahhh!"

You're already back into your drunken daze, meeting his thrusts as your heat-addled clit grinds against his faint brown trail of hair.

"Harder," you pant, nails clawing at his shoulders, his strong arms quick to lift your legs onto his shoulders, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

But it's not enough.

"I said hahhh-harder, Caleb—"

He growls, pushing your legs firmly against your shoulders, your legs dangling above your head as he slams into you faster now, rougher. Unrelenting. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, the new position causing your muscles to burn from the stretch, and every thrust hits you so deep, fat tip kissing your cervix, your vision blurs.

"Not gonna last," he blurts out, mouth covered in your slick now attacking yours, diving in as if your mouth would grant him air. "You're too fucking—shit! Toooo good—"

He's going to be the death of you.

"C-cum inside, baby." you moan, hands griping his shoulders, biceps, hips, anything to make him ram into your greddy cunny faster, longing for him to prod at your womb. "Need your cum, baby. F-fill me— uhhh! up!"

His balls tighten, almost painfully so, mouth hanging open as drool drips down, right into your awating mouth and he just know this isn't going to be the last load for him tonight.

He knocks the breath out of you with a brutal push of his hips, his girth hauling your walls further apart as his fat mushroomy head throbs, close, soooo close to fill you to the brim.

"A-alright, pips. Anything for my needy princess."

You're going to be the death of him.

ꪆৎ SYLUS

You're trembling, knees straddling Sylus's broad hips, riding him like your entire body burns with desperate need. His hands grip your thighs, trying to ground you, get you to slow down, but it's already to late.

"Gods," he groans, voice hoarse, on the brink of cracking. His dark, ruby eyes in search of yours and you swear he grows even larger inside you as your eyes lock. "You're killing me here, sweetie."

"M' sorry, Sy. Can't stop, can't—"

His lips crash down onto yours, muffling your pleas with a desperate kiss. His strong hands tighten on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, every thrust deeper and more urgent than the last.

"You don't have to," he murmurs against your mouth, voice thick with lust, ruby eyes eating you alive. "Have me. Use me."

He's done it now.

You grind down harder, hips snapping desperately against him, breath uneven and broken. And every frantic roll of yours pulls a low growl from his throat, his girthy length pulsating inside your gooey walls.

His hefty cock draaags along every sensitive nerve inside you, thick and heavy, stretching your weeping walls to their limit and you swear he gets harder with every needy rut you throw at him.

"Honey, I don't think I can—"

His jaw clenches tightly, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he struggles to maintain his composure. His head sinks into the sheets, gray hair forming a halo around his head as cheery eyes flutter before snapping back to yours, pupils blown wide.

"Y-you're so— sooo"

"Hmm? M' what, Sy'?"

You whimper, grinding down until he's pressed so deep you can feel him bulging inside your lower belly, leaving a visible imprint of himself there.

And It's only driving you further into insanity.

"You're gonna ruin me," he pants, voice thick with lust, a slight crack audible. "Ohhh, gonna fucking ruin me, sweetie. L-look at you."

You press your forehead against his, panting, your walls clench so tight you feel every vein and even the slight right curve of his girth.

Sylus's hands travel up your sides, grip ironclad, his thumbs digging into your ribs. His control is slipping, obvious in the way his dark ruby eyes widen, groan rumbling in his chest when you shift your weight and rock your hips harder against him.

He oggles at your eyes rolling to the back of your head, gripping your nape and pulling you down until his mouth meets yours agar, slamming his mouth against yours with such force, teeth and tongues clash.

"You're everything," he mutters against your lips, saliva connecting you both, voice cracking under the pressure. "So fucking perfect."

Your nails dig into his shoulders, breath hitching in desperate gasps in rythm to the bed creaking under you both as his hips jerk, matching your frantic rhythm.

"Keep going, love." He breaks into a grunt as your head falls into the crook of his neck, painting his ivory skin with bubbling drool.

"Thaaat's my girl."

There's nothing else inside your fucked out mind except for him him and more him.

Sylus. Sylus. Sylus.

Feisty hips bouncing on him, desperate to feel every inch, every frantic pulse, your walls fluttering, dragging Sylus closer to the edge with every desperate thrust.

And you notice from his deep groan, his parted lips aswell as his hands sliding under your arms, pulling you impossibly closer. His breath fans across your skin, heavy and ragged.

"You're driving me mad." He's a drooling mess himself now, thighs clenching as his balls tighten up, so damn close to filling your eager cunt up.

You lift your head before pathetically falling against his lips, saliva messily smearing all across his lower face.

He growls, hips snapping up with brutal force, obscenely loud and wet plap plap plap echoing the room, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging in like you could dissapear if he ever dared to let go.

"I'm close" He moans shamelessly into your mouth now, burrying his cock deeper, reddened tip hitting your cervix with each of his bold jerks up into you. "So close."

"N-ghhh, me t-toooo!" you sob, words barely forming through your moans.

"Gonna cum! Gonna fucking cum, Sy! Pleaseee—"

Then he surges upright, wrapping one strong arm around your waist, the other sliding down to grip your ass with a loud smack! and slam you down on him, over and over until you're voice betrays you, wails and whimpers flooding out from your lips.

His cock drives up into you so deep your toes curl, hitting the same perfect spot again and again, robbing cries from your sobbing pussy.

Plap plap plap.

"Better hold on tight, sweetie."

He grabs your hips, slams up, and fucks you like he hates you. The bed shrieks, holding on for deat life as the headboard rattles against the walls and in these moments you're thankful you live in the N109-Zone with no neighbours.

"Yesyesyes! Js like that, Sy!"

There's a thick white ring of your slick forming at the base of his cock, clinging to him with every brutal thrust, and when he looks down and sees it, something snaps inside him.

He flips you onto your stomach, quickly slipping inside your addicting heat again, as if it pains him to not be inside your for any second longer. His cock slips back inside your dripping heat with a lewd twack! and the both of you groan, breath hitching in sync as he sinks in to the hilt for the nth time tonight.

Your back arches, panting against the pillow as your nails claw at the sheets, loud whail earning a breathless chuckle from man above.

"Please Sy! Need your cum s-so bad— need you to breed me."

He lets out a broken sound, somewhere between a gasp and a growl before burying himself deep with one last snap of his hips.

His body stiffens as his cock twitches and pulses inside you, flooding you with wave after wave of hot white cum. You clench down hard, milking him for what he's worth, moaning his name as your own orgasm hits like a shockwave, body trembling beneath his.

He stays pressed against you, breath harsh against your neck, hand splayed across your lower back to keep you right where he wants you, lewd squelch from your stuffed cunny letting out a broken whine. You twitch under him, drooling into the pillow, body still shaking from how hard you came.

"This heat's not out of you yet, is it?"

You shake your head with a weak cry, drooling against the pillow.

"Then," he muses, kissing the shell of your ear, slow and almost sweet,

"Best start picking out a new bed you want, sweetie."

ꪆৎ XAVIER

"It's little moments like these,"

he pants against your ear, "that remind you just how much more my sweet princess can take."

You're out of breath, slick and shaking from everything he's already wrung out of you, but he couldn't care less. He doesn't even want you to recover and catch your breath.

And he sure as hell doesn't let you.

He spins you around like youre a mere feather-weight, palms branding into your hips as he manhandles you onto the bed, chest down and ass up.

Your hands scramble for purchase, fingers knotting into the sheets just as you feel the blunt heat of his hefty length press between your thighs again, his cock smearing pre over the curve of your ass, coating it in a shining glee.

"Could get used to you being like this, you know," he hums, one slender finger tracing up your stomach before resting on one of your breasts, giving it a tight squeeze, "you loooove getting all cockdrunk and dumb on me, huh?"

"Mhmm! Love you! Love your—"

"Say it right."

His words pierce through just like his dick through past your puffy folds, tip curving right against the spot that has you mewling out, almost like a button being pressed.

A sharp smack! to your ass follows his firm words, soon rubbing soothingly over the reddened globe as his cock slides out, leaving only his tip cramped in your hole.

"L-love it when you fuck me dumb, Xav'! Love getting drunk on your cock! But p-please..."

Your hips jerk back, earning a growl from his as he inspects your greedy pussy engulfing half of his length now, eager to suck him back in whole.

"... Still not enough. Need more."

Your pleading whimpers are muffled against the pillow face first as he fully rams into you again, body firmly pressed against yours. His throbbing girth is fully nestled inside you, his light chuckle hot against your ear.

"Talking outta that greedy pussy again."

You bite your lip in shame or amusement, you don't know. Desperate and wild grinds of your hips move back against his, rutting hard with every agonizingly slow drag of his hips.

He slides in and out of you like butter, your previous squirts of juices and his thick hot cum creating the perfect lubricant.

It's filthy— the kind of slick, nasty glide that sends sparks through your overstimulated nerves. Every time he pulls back, a string of mixed fluids clings between your swollen folds and his soaked cock, glistening, connecting you to him like a leash. The wet schlik schlik schlik of it echoes in the room, punctuated only by your choked moans and the brutal slap of skin on skin.

You're so swollen, so stretched, your body clutching at him like he's your prey.

"Tight fuckin' thing," he snarls, hands gripping your waist, forming half moons with his nails on your skin. "Keep moving those hips for me, angel— o-oh fuckkkk! Don't stop."

You don't. You can't. Rutting back with abandon, desperate and so greedy, your hips roll and slam into his with haste. You can feel every throb of his cock inside you, feel it twitch and pulse as his rhythm grows savage.

Fuck, you could die like this— pressed neatly against the sheets with your beloved boyfriend rutting you deeper into the matress for the nth time tonight.

His pace turns feral, brutal, the whaming of his hips against your ass growing harder, meaner.

"Y-yes! Yes, Xav! Gimmie more baby," you pant, hands reaching back to grip at his ass, thigh, anything to make him plug deeper into you, your stuffed cunny shrieking and squeking with every of his brutal thrusts, "m-more."

"My pillow princess can't even think straight now, hmm?. She's doing the talking for you now, huh?"

You grind faster, rubbing your clit against the curve of his pelvis, breath hitching in shaky gasps. The way he holds you, the weight of him pressing into your back, makes you lose yourself completely— heat spilling over, body shaking with need.

"Greedy little hole doesn't wanna let me go," he hisses, panting harder now, fucking you through the clench, feeling your now god-knows which-one-orgasm aproach. "A-ahhhh, hear that? Oh yeah, so fucking loud, begging me to fill her up again."

No answer, you're just cumming, squirting against the sheets, orgasm hitting you like a punch in the gut and fuck— he surely is digging in it.

His hand wretch your head up by your neck now, ocean eyes drinking up your agape mouth, lolling out tongue and your fluttering eyes, biting his lip to keep him from cummin in you right then and—

Shit.

Xavier's voice catches in his throat. His head tips back, throat bared. His hands try to grip your waist, then fall limp beside you helplessly, falling right ontop of you as now faint whisps of cum spurt out, meekly adding to the previous buckets of cum resting in your flodded pussy.

And he's still hard.

Well, you don't seem to be satisfied either. Not with your desperate arches, trying to get him to move even though he's fully laying ontop of you, barely leaving you air to breathe.

"O-one more." you purr, one hand trailing down to lock his fingers with yours.

He twitches inside you weakly, shaky sigh escaping him and glassy eyes snapping open.

You still want more?

"You're killing me, princess."

You giggle against the pillow, low lidded eyes shooting him a smug grin, spit painted mouth glisterning.

"Good."

ꪆৎ ZAYNE

In what world could he've known that his sweet little wife could get like this?

Sure, he's always pliant to your needs, always does his best to grant your every wish, make you happy. He'd kiss your ankles if you asked, worship the ground you walked on with no shame at all.

You're his wife, after all. His one and only.

But this? This has his mind fucking reeling.

He's never, not once, seen you like this—wild-eyed and sweat-slicked, mouth parted in shameless moans as you grind yourself up into him with no sign of stopping. Your nails drag hot down his spine, then grip tight around his ass, pulling him into you, holding him there like he might even think to leave.

Like he could.

Zayne groans, loud and ragged, hips stuttering as your soaked, greedy cunt sucks him right back in every time he tries to pull out. You're milking him, clenching down; your body refusing to give him a moment's rest—and it's driving him insane.

"Not e-enough," you gasp, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice so wrecked it makes his cock twitch inside you. "Need more. Wanna feel your cock deeeeep inside."

Well, he can't complain, to be honest.

"More?" he pants, almost incredulous. But the way he smiles, like he's so far gone on you it hurts says everything needed to be said. "Already fucked my darling wife dumb. Doesn't even know what nasty of a mouth she's got on her now."

You just moan, nodding that fucked-out little head of yours frantically, lips dragging across his throat as you rock your hips up again, taking him even deeper. He moans, losing his rhythm completely, slamming back into you with a helpless sound that borders on a whimper.

Your light chuckle sweels his heart—and cock. You kiss his cheek, sweet and breathless. "Yours, Zayne. All yours. Now give it ta' me."

You've done it now. You broke your poor husband's brain.

Before you can blink, he's flipped you over, your knees pressed into the mattress, arms trembling under your weight. You barely register the movement before his leaking tip is already forcing its way back in, sliding through your slick pussy.

He spanks you. Hard.

"You want more?"

"Oh fuckkk yes, I—!"

But he's not talking to you. His gazes falls directly down to your greedy cunny sucking him in, examining the mess that drip drip drips down your legs and onto the sheets.

"Want me to ruin my pretty wife, huh?"

He snarls at your snug cunny and takes the loud squelch! as an answer, bracing his hands on both of your ass cheeks, spreading you wiiiide to get a better view.

"Alright. Then take it, you nasty girl."

Skin slapping skin, his hips driving forward in brutal, punishing thrusts, fucking you with none of that usual sweetness of his. Just raw, filthy. You cry out, over and over, face buried in the sheets, hands clawing for purchase, head spinning with dizziness.

God, you're husband's out of this world. You're not even sure what you did to deserve a man like him.

"I'll take it, all of it!" you sob, hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. "Want it all, Zayne! W-wanna feel all hot and full inside—!"

He actually growls like some beast, ramming his cock damn near into your poor womb, and you scream when his hand snakes down and smacks your clit, a wet slap! followed by furious circles that make your thighs quake.

"You like that, don't you?" he growls, head falling to the crook of your neck to sink his teeth into your shoulder, earning a shriek. "Like me pounding you stupid while your pretty little cunt begs for more?"

You nod frantically, sobbing, helpless to the way your orgasm starts to crest, so tight and fast, your walls spasming around him, trying to milk him again.

"My wife's talking outta her pussy again, huh?" he huffs, snapping his hips harder, tip forming a deep buldge in your tummy. "Sloppy little hole just keeps begging. She's so loud, baby."

Your orgasm slams into you like a wave, shattering you completely. Your arms give out under the weight of it, body collapsing onto the soaked sheets as your cunt gushes around him, spraying down your thighs in a messy rush, soaking his cock and making a lewd, slick sound as he fucks you through it. And he doesn't even slow down, just drives in harder, chasing his own end with vicious rams.

"Want more, Zayne... please,"

Voice wrecked and slurred, your body's still trembling from the last orgasm. You're soaked, dripping, stretched and raw, but that greedy little pulse in your cunt won't stop—you're still needy, still aching.

Zayne's panting above you, face flushed, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He’s still buried to the hilt inside you, cock twitching, cum leaking out around the base with every tiny clench of your slick walls.

"W-what about a quick break, darling? Promise I'll—"

"N-noooo," you whine, lip wobbling, eyes stinging as water builds at your lash line, hipsalready back to rutting and arching back into him, his fresh seed spilling from your overflowed hole. “Pleaseee, baby. Want more, my husband's fucking me soooo good."

"Alright then."

His voice is wrecked, but the second he sees the tears in your eyes and the desperate grind of your hips against his, he snaps. Whatever doubt or exhaustion he had left is gone.

He leans in close, presses wet kisses to your cheek as his thrusts get messier and more frantic. "Happy wife," his cock twitches deep inside you, mushroomy head pulsating with fatigue, spurting the last remnats of his whispy cum,

"happy fucking life."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[devilsudon]

Finding a Reason

(Couldn't find artist name, all credit to them❤)

Warnings: depression, dark thoughts, anxiety, hopelessness

~~~~~~

You're not sure how long it's been since you've eaten. Or drank a glass of water. Or washed your hair. Laundry is piled high. Dishes in the dishwasher waiting to be put away for days. Trash cans overflowing. Your life is at a stand still. Everything feels dirty, but you have no energy to clean, no desire to change the conditions of your existence.

You can feel like your body is shutting down. Your heart pounding in your chest from the caffeine you choke down to make you feel something, anything, other than despair.

You take the pills your doctor prescribed. And every day, you wake up feeling the same. The same questions of 'why' plague your mind.

You're curled up in bed, it's well past three in the afternoon, and you haven't eaten. Do you deserve a meal? You haven't done anything today. Why bother, right? The darkness of your room swallows you whole. You close your eyes, trying to disappear into the void.

"Sweetie?" His voice is soft, tender.

You swear under your breath. You knew giving him a key in a moment of weakness would bite you in the ass. You consider pulling the blanket over your head and pretending to be asleep. Anything to keep him from seeing the state you're in or asking questions. But the squeak of your bedroom door makes you jump, you lift your head, and your eyes meet his.

"I just wanted to make sure you're still alive."

His tone is playful, but there's a timidness to his tone. You've never brought up your 'condition' - until recently, you'd hidden it fairly well. But then the cycle began again. The prospect of stepping out of your apartment and into a crowd became too much. Eventually, it got so bad your job replaced you and you had to rely on credit cards to get by once again. Explaining your gaps between jobs was becoming harder and harder. And just because Sylus had more money than he knows what to do with, you hated the idea of telling him about your struggles. It would only lead to more questions. And having to talk about things has never helped.

Accepting help doesn't make you weak, it doesn't make you a burden. You've always known that, but the voice in your head - who has taken on a life of their own lately - has convinced you otherwise. They've locked your logical mind in a cage and you've grown exhausted trying to break the lock.

So you started avoiding him. At first, it wasn't on purpose. Now...

The floorboards groan under his weight as he crosses the room. The mattress dips, and you sense his presence. The warmth you've missed and craved. But at what cost. If he tries to talk, you'll end up shutting him down. Maybe even shutting down yourself.

His finger trails over your cheek, looping around a strand of hair to tuck behind your ear. You cringe away from him, embarrassed by how greasy your hair must feel. When you glance at him, his concern is evident. His brows furrowed, his lip between his teeth. His usual clean-shaven appearance was long gone, along with his usual attire. Rough stubble, messy hair, a t-shirt and jeans. You weren't the only unrecognizable one.

"Come here."

It wasn't a question. You don't move, but you don't stop him from curling an arm around you. He picks you up, as heavy as you've felt lately, the weightlessness is strange.

Entering the bathroom, he lowers you onto the side of the tub. He turns on the water and turns to the cabinet. He pulls out bottles of the expensive body washes he's bought you. You felt bad wasting them on a regular day, so you saved them for special occasions. You hadn't realized he knew were you stored them.

He crouches and holds each bottle under your nose until the ghost of a smile appears. When the scent of cherry blossoms and vanilla flood your senses, your lips twitch. He immediately spins and deposits the rejected bottles in your sink.

You try to fight him when he starts to undress you, so he stops and stares. He waits for you to come to terms with the fact that he's not going anywhere. When he finally has your stained pjs in a pile on the floor, he holds your hand as you step inside the shower. Your chest tightens and you reach out to grab onto the wall. You're dangerously close to doubling over, a sob lodged in your throat. What must he think of you? You smell, you feel the layer of grim on your skin. But Sylus is there, letting his shirt soak through to hold you up. He helps you sit down and kneels beside you.

His hands, trained for violence, are soft and careful as he runs a washcloth over your skin. You close your eyes, a futile attempt to stop the tears from falling. As they wet your cheeks, he uses his thumb to wipe them away. He stays quiet, focused on washing you. When he tilts your head back to run his fingers through your hair, you sigh. His fingers massage your head as he works your shampoo through. He slowly washes away every ounce of dirt and grime. He rinses you with cool water to soothe your flushed skin before wrapping a towel around you, lifting you once again to carry you to the bedroom.

Laying out a pair of clean underwear and one of his oversized t-shirts he kept in your bottom drawer. He grabs one for himself before turning to leave. Once he closes the door, you pat yourself dry and step into your clean clothes. You're tempted to crawl back into bed, facing him again was too terrifying. But you hear your washing machine start. You shuffle to the door and find him tossing dirty clothes in a basket from around your apartment. He sees you emerge and just as you open your mouth to argue, he picks you up again, effectively shutting you up.

When he deposits you on your kitchen counter, you raise a brow. He offers a small smile and turns to open the fridge. You bite your lip as you notice how barren it's become. What's left is either expired or leftovers so old you're unsure they're even still considered food. He doesn't make a sound and just focuses on navigating the devastating sight before him. Finding a jar of strawberry jelly, he returns to your side. He examines the peanut butter on your counter and finds your bread in good condition. He makes a simple PB&J, plates it, and fills a glass with water. He clears a space on your kitchen table, job applications, and unopened mail piled to one corner. He wraps an arm around your waist and helps you off the counter.

He once again leaves you so you can eat without an audience. You can hear him cleaning up your apartment behind you. Tears once again flow down your cheeks. The peanut butter is perfectly sweet and sticky. The jelly offers a bright pop of freshness. When you sip the water, it's like you haven't had a drop in years. You empty the glass in a single go. He picks up the glass and refills it. You hadn't even realized he was right behind you. He watches you finish the second glass in a similar fashion.

Foregoing the stack of dirty dishes in your sink, he leaves the empty plate and glass on the table. He leads you back to the bathroom to brush your hair. Drying your locks with a towel, he braids your damp hair and clips back any strays. Adding a swipe of toothpaste on your toothbrush, he holds your chin and places the brush in your mouth. You take over, gently working the bristles over your teeth. He leaves briefly, returning with a bottle of lotion. He runs his hands over your legs, the lotion quickly absorbing.

He leads you back into your bedroom. You sit on fresh sheets, lowering your head onto clean pillowcases. He settles behind you, an arm resting over your waist. He doesn't hold you tightly. He just offers his hand over your waist. When your fingers lace with his, he moves closer and presses his chest against your back. His heartbeat against your back makes your eyes sting with fresh tears. His thumb traces soothing circles into your palm.

"I'm sorry." You mumble.

"For what?" He whispers.

"I didn't call. Or text. I disappeared. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not..." Your voice cracks.

"You don't have to explain. We can just lay here. I just want to be with you."

A sob escapes you, your throat hurting from how hard you tried to hold it back. His lips greet your neck, gentle kisses so feather light they tickle. You shiver and try to breathe through your nose. He lifts a blanket over both of your bodies and lowers his head to the pillow. You hold your breath as you turn over to face him. He looks at you, surprised but welcoming.

"I feel lost. Barely surviving. And I'm angry. I'm so angry all the time. No matter what I do, how hard I fight, how many pills I take, I always end up here. What's the point?"

He listens. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands rubbing your back as you speak. His expression remains neutral.

"Why can't I just deal with it? Other people struggle with these things! Inadequacy, trauma, fear, anger, anxiety - why can't I just... I can't do anything, I just..."

He runs his fingers through your hair, unwinding the braid he made so your silky tresses cascade over your pillow. Winding strands around his fingers, massaging your scalp. He doesn't offer a solution or opinion. He just lays beside you, hearing you.

"I had so many hopes and dreams. Where is that girl? The girl determined to wake up every day and do what she loved. The girl who wouldn't settle. I don't know if she even exists anymore."

You turn onto your back and stare at the ceiling. His hand remains on your waist. With his other, he props his head up on his palm. He looks down at you and nods, wordlessly urging you to continue.

"I don't want to just survive. I want to live. But this isn't living. And no matter what I do, I can't... find the strength to try anymore. There's too much "

You hold your breath as you meet his gaze.

"I just want to disappear."

He leans forward and kisses your forehead. Your sobs have built up so rapidly, you start to feel nauseous. So you stop holding back.

Your sobs are broken, ugly, loud. Your brows pinched together so tightly your head aches. Tears stream down your cheeks into your hair. Sylus wraps his arms around you and holds you against his chest, letting you sob into the crook of his neck. He's so still, so warm, his arms never flinching or squeezing. Just holding.

As you calm down, a sense the wave of shame and embarrassment looming. You mutter apologies over and over.

"Sweetie?" He whispers, his voice holding more emotion than ever.

He gives you a little space and when you look up at him, you see his own cheeks are wet with spilled tears. Seeing those streaks of tears, the tinge of purple beneath his bloodshot eyes, you nearly start sobbing again. He rests his palm against your cheek and gently holds your face in place to keep your eyes on him.

"I could say all those stupid lines - 'you're strong' 'I'm here for you' 'you'll get through this' - but people say that when they don't know. The strongest soldier can still be injured, they can still be weak. That doesn't mean they are no longer strong. I want to be by your side through everything. But this world is unpredictable, I could be whisked away tomorrow. And I can't control you. I can't tell you how to get through this, so I can't say with certainty that you will."

His thumb swipes over your cheek, keeping the tears from dampening your pillow case.

"Your pain, is real. This wound is deep. You've carried this with you for so long, I doubt you'd know how to be without it. Choosing to live, even choosing to survive, is terrifying. It's hard, brutal even. Carrying on, when you don't believe you have a reason, is even worse. Why fight? Why try? Hope is evasive. Hunting it down is exhausting. And sometimes... it's not a one person job."

He pulls you back to his chest and rolls onto his back. Your ear presses against his chest.

"When you smile, genuinely smile, it's not for anyone. It's a reaction, an instinct, your body showing the world how happy you feel. Or when you cry. Sometimes you don't even know why the tears fall. Shivers breaking out across your skin, a sign that you're cold or that you're body is aware when your mind isn't. A defense, a prompt, helping you return to the present."

His hands stroke your back, your muscles relaxing inch by inch.

"Let me show you what it means to live again. To walk amongst flowers just to take in their scent. To stand in the sun to feel the heat. To dance to the song that makes you smile, blood rushing through your veins as you twirl and laugh. Reminding you that you are very much alive. And you get to choose why. And you don't have to defend it. You don't owe anyone an explanation. Only yourself. And that... is enough. More than enough. You, are more than enough."

You feel as though you should be crying again, but no tears come. No sob rips free from your chest. His heartbeat becomes the only sound you can hear. The steady beat lulls you into a dream, one where you stand in a field of flowers. The sun high in the sky, the warm rays warming your skin. The subtle scent of flowers surrounds you. A gentle breeze carrying petals swirls, chills spreading as the wind cools your skin.

Sylus appears beside you. He offers his hand. You smile, that giddy silly smile that you usually try to hide. Taking his hand, he leads you down a path through the flowers. You know it's a dream, but its significance is not lost on you.

Sylus isn't offering to fix your problems, but rather walk with you as you rediscover your reasons to love life. You know it's a scary prospect, to live for the sake of living. To smile, just because you can. To try again, when you've fallen flat on your face countless times, just because your happiness is worth the risk. It won't be an easy journey, you'll fall again and that's okay. Just as long as you get back up.

~~~~~~

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@trishiepo0

@not-so-quite-human

@kitsunetori

@babyx91

@libriomancer

@lilyadora

@crowskitten22

@letharue

@silverbrain

@alastor-simp

@drama-trauma

@0tterteeth

@mysticcollectionvoid

@godzillaglitter

@godoffuckedupcats

@klmpun

@ariallaisawesome

@spidy-spider01

@m00nchildwrites

@plsdonttakemyname

@hauntedbysmutm0

@withering-dream

@lostwingz2236

@simpfortheseven

@bubbleteakittyy

@freddy-2002-blog

@sylus-hunter

AN: This has been in my drafts for a while. I started writing it to deal with my depression and cried a lot while writing it. I'm still very much not okay, but writing has helped me focus on something less negative. Sylus has become more than a comfort character to me. He's sometimes the only thing I smile about. I'm grateful for finding LADs when I did. I'm glad I started writing, even if it's cringe sometimes. And I don't think I can really express how grateful I am for everyone who likes, shares or comments on my writing. You've given me more hope than you'll ever realize. Thank you.

[devilsudon]

Deep moans harmonized with your high pitched whines as your body trembled and twitched in overstimulation, a symphony of debauched sounds filling the dimly lit room growing warmer and warmer with ever passing moment. Strong hands gripped the back of your knees, keeping your legs spread wide and your dripping core exposed to the hungry mouths devouring you.

"Sy….. Zay- slow dooown….. it's t-too much," you gasped.

A dark chuckle vibrated against your clit before latching onto it and suckling greedily at the throbbing little bud, another tongue sliding down and lapping at the juices and spit that pooled at your entrance. Zayne groaned as his tongue slid in, the feeling of your walls clenching around it making his cock throb as Sylus stroked it, agonizingly slow. Zayne's scarred hands pumped at Sylus's length, hips bucking into the doctor's fist as the combination of sensations made him ravenous.

You blinked away the stars from your hazy vision, watching as the two almost seemed to fight for whoever got to occupy your cunt the most. Zayne nudged Sylus away from your clit with his nose to lap at it, making the Onychinus leader growl as he forced his own tongue to wrestle around the doctor's until they mutually succumbed into a heated kiss. Hazel green and red eyes locked on you before they focused their mouths on you once more. You clawed at the satin bedsheets, slick and spit dripping down to your puckered hole below and pooling under you. It was too much, you actually felt like you were going to spiral into insanity, but you didn't want the ecstasy of it to stop.

Zayne's hips stuttered as Sylus pumped faster at his cock, twisting near the angry red tip. The doctor quickened his pace to match the fiend's, their combined groans against your cunt sending you over the edge once more with a sharp cry.

"F-Fuck!! C-Cumming..!!"

The two watched in awe as your climax squirted out of you, spraying uncontrollably and making them cum thick ropes with you into the other's fists. Zayne released your knee and let his head rest against your thigh, his cheeks and ears a deep shade of red as he rode the waves of his release. The leader of Onychinus, soaked in your juices, pressed forward to lap up every bit of your release before leaning back and tugging the doctor into a slow and drunken kiss. He practically purred as he licked up the essence of you that dripped down Zayne's flushed face.

Sylus nipped at Zayne's glistening lips and smirked when he gasped. "You're not done yet, my little doves. On your back, doctor. Let our sensitive kitten sit on your face. I want you to suck on their clit while I fuck them nice and deep."

© gladiolus-mamacitia; do not translate or repost my works on any platform

[devilsudon]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Sylus is such a loverboy. He yearns in the quiet, deep kind of way — it lives in his eyes as he watches you laugh, his body wanting to reach for you but he doesn’t want to push. He doesn’t want to ruin the relationship between the two of you, yet his heart aches every time you sit too close to him. He’s the type to memorize the things that make you smile, and then secretly makes them appear in your day — your favourite snacks appearing after a long shift of work. Beneath his calm and composed expression, he’s the biggest softie, completely helpless to the idea of you. He’d be such a gentlemen. If you are cold, his jacket is already around your shoulders. Sylus would try to be gentle like he’s afraid of hurting you — not because he doubts your strength, but because he respects your heart. It’s because he cares that much. When he finally kisses you he takes it slow, like he’s learning how to properly touch and care for something so sacred. He’ll constantly ask you if it’s okay, being extra careful to read your body language and making sure you aren’t giving him any signs that you don’t want it. He’s so gentle and so caring. He always wants to look out for you, making sure that you are happy and that you feel safe. Sylus would hold you so gently and make you feel as if everything is okay. His touch would make you feel safe and secure — forgetting the world around you.

God I need him bad

Art credit: _lianashii_ on X

[devilsudon]

𝑾𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓

It's been a long, long day. soft!sylus x gn!reader, getting carried from his car into bed, fluff & comfort, sfw; 600wc.

The interior of the car is dappled with the passing streetlights, his features illuminated by strange, ever-shifting fluorescent hues that you muse on drowsily, leaning against the headrest. Invisible weights seem to be tied on your eyelids, and you're fighting a losing battle to keep them open.

Work was exhausting today, plagued by delays and complications, taking you a long way from home. You hadn't even questioned his inexplicable presence this time, given he was the only reason you were able to finish up by midnight.

You fail to stifle a yawn. He glances at you, and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he notices your hopeless plight to stay conscious.

That single look steals a breath from you. The night always seems to wrap around him like a second skin, welcoming him into its fold without hesitation. He wears it so well. Fits in this car, all sleek leather and unadulterated power, like a perfect picture. At ease with one hand on the wheel, in complete control. And he's got that damned jacket on.

Gods, he's a sight for sore eyes.

"Said that out loud, sweetie. You're really tired, huh?"

Whoops. "Don't know what you're talking about," you mumble through another yawn.

He chuckles at that, and you relish its warmth, eyes falling shut to savour the sound. You can't seem to open them again. The seat is impossibly comfortable, more than it has any right to be. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers, the classical music playing low through the aux, the restrained hum of the engine, all work in tandem to pull you under.

You're so close to letting it take you. A passing thought, just a twinge, creeps at the edges of your mind—is he doing this on purpose?—but it drifts away as swiftly as it came when he speaks again.

"Sleep. I'll wake you when we're nearly home," he promises.

His voice must be a black market sedative, because it's the only push you need to succumb at last, into a deep, dreamless slumber.

—

It's a lie.

How could he bring himself to wake you up when you were finally letting yourself rest? You weren't even aware of the tension that's worn you thin the whole day, undoubtedly forming knots in your shoulders—which he'll gladly offer to massage out of you later—and having it dissipate now that you're fast asleep is a relief.

He gets out and walks to the passenger side, opening the door quietly to not disturb you. Scoops you up in his arms and carries you through the expansive underground garage, through the darkened hallways of the base, to the master bedroom where he lays you down with care.

It's too early for him to sleep, so he simply tucks you in, pulling a blanket over you and ensuring your head is properly supported. But when he goes to leave for the office, there's a tug on his sleeve.

He turns back to find that you've somehow held on to him while still knocked out. Catches the faintest whisper under your breath.

"Don't go."

What a demanding kitten he has. He tuts, though there's not a shred of real irritation behind it—and he's already halfway through shedding his jacket. Peels off his gloves, then his shoes.

Moving with unnerving grace for his size, he slips under the blanket with you, the mattress barely dipping under the new weight with how carefully he lowers himself onto it. Conforms his body to yours, two puzzle pieces slotting together.

The moment he wraps an arm around your waist, you snuggle up to him like a heat-seeking missile. You bury your head in his chest, slinging a leg over him, and a hum of utter contentment escapes you. He has to suppress the laugh that wells up inside him, shaking you both with the effort. You've stuck yourself to him like velcro—a perfect, tender trap. There's nowhere else he'd rather be.

[devilsudon]

SYLUS PROMPT ! — @sy4luvs

cw — fluff, more fluff. Did i mention fluff? kissing, consensual king sylus, pet names, a little suggestive at the end >3<

it was a merely an observation, but sylus noticed that throughout your entire three months of dating, you haven’t kissed once. sure there was the small pecks on his or your cheek. the small lingering kisses on your forehead or the occasional open mouthed kisses on your neck while you stood in his kitchen, either cooking or cleaning. he wasn’t one to be pushy, no, he wanted you to feel comfortable and he wanted you to initiate a kiss.

after all sylus was a patient man, a very patient man you’ve noticed. whenever you made small mistakes, forget your keys inside your apartment or remember you were supposed to buy something late at night, he just smiled helping as best as he could.

you were laying on his couch, legs on his lap, head propped up on your hand on the back of the couch while lazily scrolling through social media. sylus was absentmindedly massaging your sore feet from walking around all day, his gaze fixated on you. “take a picture it will last longer sy” you breathed out a laugh, finally looking up from the device in your hand. sylus smirked, grabbing your phone, pointing it towards you. “my my, look at my beautiful girl, what a sight for sore eyes” he sighed dramatically holding the camera closer to your face.

you giggled trying to snatch your phone out of his hand again. “stoppp!! i look like a mes” you whined, suddenly noticing he had pulled you in his lap with his evol. “you look beautiful, like you always do” sylus grinned before handing you back your phone. you felt shy under his intense gaze, averting his eyes with a small blush decorating your cheeks. “you’re not too bad yourself” you mumbled, playing with the strings of his sweatpants. “oh what was that? couldn’t quite hear you kitten” he was so smug, enjoying how shy you get whenever you sat on his lap, or he held eye contact.

“you’re so mean to me” you pouted.

“i could never be mean to my pretty princess”

“you’re purposely doing this” he smiled when you finally looked at those ruby eyes of his. your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second before holding his gaze again. “can’t blame me, when you’re reacting so cute to my teasing y/n” it should feel illegal how beautiful your name sounded from his lips. maybe, you felt a little bolder than you were, because you leaned closer holding his cheek in your hand. his hands instantly tightened around your waist, leaning a bit closer, letting your breaths mingle. you finally laid your lips on his, your cheeks red, as sylus started moving his lips in sync with you.

sparks erupted in the pits of your stomach your other hand coming up to hold his face in your hands completely. the kiss was so soft, so tender. sylus didn’t rush, didn’t even let his hands roam your body. even though he wanted to so badly, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. you pulled away locking eyes with him, cheeks burning while you stroked his cheeks, admiring his face - that looked like an art piece hung in an museum. “i have been waiting for you to kiss me kitten..” he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek. your head titled in confusion. “why didn’t you just kiss me sy, your my boyfriend after all”

sylus smiled, shaking his head. “i didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, baby. i needed to know you wanted it just as bad as i did.” you didn’t know this man could become even sexier than he already was. “oh god if i wasn’t so shy, i’d have you deep down my throat” sylus laughed, his head shaking in disbelief. “kitten don’t start something we both know you can’t finish.”

“i could help you finish-“

“please for the sake of our combined sanity, stop talking” you giggled laying down on his chest. happier than you have ever been. sylus ran his fingers through your hair, heart rapidly beating in his chest.

his beautiful girl finally kissed him.

side note: sigh i love this man so much…. lmk what you think! if my grammar is a bit off, excuse me, English is not my native language 😭

[devilsudon]

Being Babied by Sylus ♥︎ - Sylus x reader

Summary: You enjoy being babied, Sylus enjoys babying you. It’s as simple as that. Content: Fluff, established relationship, reader is fed by Sylus, very self-indulgent fluff tbh, 2.1k wc A/N: I wanted to write something really fluffy. Personally, I love being babied and it made me think of how Sylus would happily take care of a reader who enjoys the same.

You first discovered you enjoyed being babied during one of your most vulnerable moments. For a week straight you were fighting a vicious case of the flu. Normally, you would push through any illness because wanderers and criminals don’t take a day off so why should you? But this case of the flu was…different. You had an unrelenting cough, a fever of 101°F, body chills and you felt too weak to even microwave yourself a cup of ramen for meals.

The fatigue you felt resulted in you slumped over on your couch with your eyes at half-mast. It was silent and peaceful in your apartment, besides the TV playing your favorite show on repeat. The familiarity of the episode playing combined with the blanket you were snuggled under was lulling you to sleep. But a dark shape swooping through your open balcony doors startled you out of your fuzzy daze.

You felt the cloying lethargy leave your body as you scrambled to sit up. It took your eyes a while to focus on what (or who?) invaded your space. Eventually, you spotted Mephie who was perched on top of your coffee table. His red, bejeweled eyes were focused on you, taking in your weakened state. His head was tilted to the side as if he was analyzing you to figure out what was wrong. You gave a weak wave in his direction before melding your body back into the couch. You heard his metal talons click against the coffee table before he pecked at a piece of your hair, let out a mischievous squawk, then left your apartment the way he came.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself before you let sleep take you under once again. The next time you’re conscious, you know that you are not alone. You kept your eyes closed as someone ran their large, cool, hand across your forehead. You tried not to alert the other person that you were awake, but your acting skills left much to be desired.

“I know you’re awake kitten, no need to put on an act for me.”

When Sylus’ velvety voice graced your ears, you finally put in the effort to open your eyes. He was devastatingly handsome on a regular day, but through your sick haze, he looks like a fallen angel specifically here to lift your spirits.

“What are you doing here?” you croaked at him, too weak to judge if this was a fever induced delusion or reality.

“A little birdie told me that my kitten was in trouble. I had to see what you got yourself into this time,” he smoothly replied.

A disbelieving snort left you as you readjusted your body on the couch. You felt gross and sticky with sweat. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was in shambles from coughing all day. You also felt embarrassed that Sylus was witnessing you in such a state, this was unfamiliar territory for your relationship.

“Well as you can see, I am perfectly safe. I’m just a little sick,” you replied as you allowed your eyes to close once again.

“I think you’re more than a little sick sweetie. Let me take care of you,” he crooned. You already were weak to Sylus when he does literally anything. But when he shows his affectionate side, you can’t deny him. So, you shyly nod your head in acceptance.

Sylus leaves to run a bath for you. You heard him rifle through the cabinets before the sound of Epsom salt pouring into the tub greeted your ears.

When Sylus re-entered the room, he was silent as he headed straight towards you. After picking you up, he walked back into the bathroom. The black and red mist of his evol held you up as he let go of you to quickly undress. When he was done, he helped you undress as well. Once you both were naked, he sunk into the bath water first before pulling you between his legs to settle against his front.

The sponge used to cleanse you felt heavenly on your skin. Each stroke washed away the sweat that came with your sickness. You were boneless in his hold, not putting up any resistance as he diligently washed you, then himself. Delivering sporadic kisses on your skin, so light that you wonder if you imagined them. Still, not a word was said between you. And, at the same time, nothing needed to be said.

This moment felt…intimate in a way that you’ve never experienced before. You rarely get sick. But when you do it is never to this degree. Although you may feel guilt, self-conscious, or the urge to push back against being taken care of in this way — you refuse to put in the effort to deny yourself this comfort.

After you both were dried off and in fresh sets of pajamas, Sylus carried you back to the couch. He laid you down in a sweat free spot with a new blanket while he rummaged through your fridge. The smell of vegetable soup soon filled your apartment and your stomach made a frighteningly eager sound in response. You weren’t certain, but you thought you heard Sylus humming a tune while he prepared your first meal of the day.

In less than an hour your soup was ready, and Sylus once again gathered you into his arms to take you to your dining room table. Instead of putting you down in your own seat, he placed you sideways on his lap and gazed into your eyes.

“Sweetie, considering how fatigued right now — how about I just feed you your soup?”

You stare in disbelief as you process his sentence. You could feel a protest build up in your throat as a blush spread across your face. You were suddenly unable to meet his eyes as you wriggled in his lap.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you murmured.

Sylus chuckled lowly before he replied.

“Oh, I insist. I can’t have my kitten burning herself with hot soup because she’s too weak to hold up her spoon.”

While you scrambled to come up with an argument, he gathered some soup on the spoon, blew on it, then offered it to you. His ruby red eyes soaked in the multitude of expressions that cross your face before you let out a resigned sigh and open your mouth.

You accept the first spoonful of soup then let out a pleased hum at the flavors that splash against your taste buds. The veggies in the soup are perfectly cooked and the squeeze of lemon you taste tops everything off. You swallow and look at him expectantly for your next bite.

Sylus lets out a pleased hum at your acceptance then continues to feed you until you are pleasantly full of soup. Warm on the inside and out now.

He spent two more days at your place, catering to your every whim until your sickness let up. Although you would vehemently deny it if asked, you appreciated being spoiled by him in your time of need. And the moments you spent together have lived rent free in your mind (and his) since.

The second time Sylus babied you was while you two were lazed around the Onychinus base. It was a gloomy, rainy day which made a movie marathon the perfect choice of an activity. The minute you arrived; he was at your beck and call. He instructed you to sit and helped you remove your boots, changed you into cozy pajamas, and grabbed whatever item you needed to get comfy on the couch with him.

You both settled on watching a trilogy that neither of you have seen before. The second film was currently on, but it was paused. You were looking up cute cat videos on your phone as small pops and the buttery smell of popcorn wafted throughout the room.

You put your phone down when you heard Sylus return to the living room. He placed down a bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table before sitting on the couch. He pulled you back to your earlier position — which was between his legs — then pressed play to resume the movie. You were blissful as you used his chest tiddies as a pillow.

When a tense scene begins to play out, you hear Sylus dig into the bowl of popcorn. You don’t pay the sound much attention until his hand slowly invaded your field of vision.

You blinked a few times before a warm feeling spread throughout your body. With little hesitation, your mouth dropped open to accept the kernel of popcorn. While you chewed, he ate some popcorn in the meantime. And when you were done chewing, he offered you more pieces until you both had your fill, and the bowl was empty.

It made logical sense for him to feed you when you were sick. But now it seemed like an intentional act of service. You felt soft, cherished and taken care of in a way that you didn’t want to ponder on further. Instead, you were left visibly giddy the rest of the day.

(Sylus pretended not to notice this outcome.)

The third time Sylus babied you was on vacation.

You both managed to make the stars align so that his schedule was free of business deals in the N109 Zone and your time off request was approved by Jenna. You spent a full week together hiking in the mountains, sampling the local cuisine, and basking in each other’s company. Today was the last day of your vacation and you have ended up in a major city.

Tonight, you were dressed in a form fitting, mid-length dress that had a slit on your right side. Your makeup was beautifully done, highlighting your striking features.

Sylus donned an outfit that made your heart flutter each time you glanced his way. Although he typically favored dark colored clothing, tonight he was wearing a breezy, cream colored silk shirt, with linen dress pants. He exuded effortless confidence and was unbearably attractive. This, in addition to the relaxed aura this vacation afforded him was a magnetic combination.

You — and what felt like every other person in the restaurant — could not help but steal a glance at him. You tried to keep your jealous huffs to yourself, but you realized you failed when Sylus sends an amused glance your way.

He doesn’t have the opportunity to tease you over your apparent jealousy because the waiter came and placed your meals on the table. As you reached for your utensils, Sylus placed his hand on top of yours to stop you.

“Since this is the last day of our trip, please permit me one more self-indulgent experience.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your face warmed when you interpreted his request. He was making it clear that he wanted to feed you again, to baby you. But this time you were in public. His offer felt multifaceted.

Sylus was proudly broadcasting the nature of your relationship. It isn’t the first time he’s done this of course. But each time he does, it fills you with butterflies.

He’s making your heart sing because you’ve impatiently waited to see if he would initiate — whatever this is — again. And who are you to deny his wish?

You sent a faux annoyed look his way before nodding your head. It is only then that he scooted his chair closer and began to feed you bites of the creamy pasta dish you ordered. You can’t help but feel the weight of the gazes from the people seated near you. But it all melts away as Sylus focused his full attention on you and offered you perfectly portioned bites. The past few times you were unable to gauge his expression as he fed you, but tonight you had a front row seat to his beautiful visage.

His eyes have softened, and his lips are pulled into a subtle smile as he watched you enjoy each bite. The devotion in his eyes was clear and unmistakable. So much so that you cannot hold in the delighted giggles that bubbled up between bites.

“What’s so amusing kitten?” he asked you leisurely.

“Nothing, I just really love when you treat me like this,” you say shyly as you look down at the table.

“And how am I treating you?” he questioned.

“You’re…babying me,” you said in a hushed tone.

Sylus hummed and used his index and middle finger to tip your chin upwards, so your gaze met his again. “Of course I am, it’s what you deserve,” he rasps before leaning in for a kiss.

From that day, he shamelessly babied you in as many ways as you allowed and you have never felt more fulfilled.

Sylus loves taking care of you, whether it be financially, physically, or emotionally. To him, babying you is not “weird”, too much, or a chore for him. He would never question or tease you about enjoying this because he enjoys it just as much or more than you do.

[devilsudon]

wellll since you are taking requests! Can I request Sylus, Caleb, and Zayne with a fem reader who's playful and loves to tease them in public but when their having sex, she's all shy and that?? <33 (I haven't requested something in such a long time, I forgot how this works 😭😭)

Don't Hide~

🍓Baby, you fucking know you can. My little MC is exactly like this, so thank you soooo much for allowing me to write her vicariously through this ask. I have sooo much fun with brat taming, you have no idea, I should write it wayyyyy more. Anyway, I really tried not to let my favoritism for Caleb show here, but he still has more than the other two. Sue me, I love my man.

TW: Intense eye contact in Caleb's; Brat taming; cat ears mentioned but not relevant in Sylus' part; Sylus is crazy big; teasing; softcore otherwise; editing/grammar errors (i am one college student)

Info: Sylus, Zayne, Caleb x Reader (Separate); NSFW

Word Count(s): Zayne (1.2k); Sylus (1.2k); Caleb (1.5k)

MDNI

ZAYNE

You loved to just push, didn't you? It was an annoyingly charming part of you, one that Zayne just adored in most situations. Playful poking and prodding was part of your daily routine, something he expected and honestly needed from you. If you weren't causing some kind of problem for him, you weren't doing well. He would rather you annoy him than see you sad and quiet.

Still, you really could get under his skin when you tried. Bonuses of knowing each other so well, he guessed. Even framing it like a positive was hard when you were trying your very best to get him to react.

Having your arms wrapped around him was a more than welcome experience in most cases. He loved it when you were so openly affectionate in public; it made him feel better about how badly he wanted to hold you, too. What he was not a fan of was the way your sneaky little hands seemed to be creeping lower and lower down his back. It was cute, at first. Easily mistaken as a comforting gesture when your fingers drew themselves back up after dipping just a little lower.

Yet, they didn't stop dipping a little lower. Each stroke got longer, went further down his back, until your fingers were dancing along the hem of his pants. If that weren't bad enough, you were doing it in front of a colleague of yours. Tara, you'd excitedly introduced. Chirping along happily together like two birds of a feather, like you weren't pushing your luck with each passing second. You knew that, though, didn't you?

He shoots you the subtlest look when your hand hovers over his behind, a warning. One, you do not heed, clamping your hand down and pinching his cheek with a Cheshire grin. And he squeaks, despite expecting it, the feeling still takes him off guard. Your grin only widens, especially when Tara blinks in surprise.

"Are you okay, Mr. Li?" She asks, befuddled at how such a stoic man could make such a noise.

He clears his throat, glancing at you, less subtly, "Fine. We should be going, though."

"Aww," you and Tara pout at the same time, though yours is far less genuine than hers.

"Well, it was nice to see you. Have fun with the rest of your day!" She waves, skipping away, oblivious to the tension between you.

Zayne lets out a deep and heavy breath, annoyance leaving him all at once. His eyes zero in on your smirking face, expression even despite the intent clouding his green eyes. He tugs your hand away, wrapping it around his waist in a firm grip so you don't do the same thing again.

"You can't behave for a second, can you?" He sighs.

Another self-satisfied smirk, "It's not my fault you have such a cute butt! It's just begging me to grab it."

He hums, pulling you along with him without another word. He can feel the excitement rolling off you in waves, practically leaping and bounding at his side to get home. How obnoxiously adorable. Your ability to manipulate him into giving you what you want was admirable; he'll give you that. Besides, it's not as though he'd be the one feeling embarrassed by the end of the night, so he'd let you have your little victories.

--

He'd had you on your knees before the front door could even fully close. Shaky hands struggling with his belt, fumbling futilely a few times before finally wriggling it out enough to unzip his pants and slide his member out. It bobs uselessly in front of your mouth, begging for some semblance of friction. Naturally, as if magnetically attracted, you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

A firm hand stops you before you can, making your face scrunch up in confusion, fluttering up to his. The intensity in his eyes is enough to burn you up from the inside, heated and full of intent. You look away quickly, trying to ignore the heat searing beneath your skin. He doesn't allow you to run, gripping your chin and bringing your eyes back to him.

"Use your hands," He commands, "and look at me. Understood."

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. Not good enough.

"Words."

You swallow, "Yes, Zayne."

The grip on your chin softens, stroking the skin there as if apologizing for the roughness, "Good."

Your shaky hands come up, spitting on them for lubricant, then carefully wrap around his cock. Gentle, easy, practiced. You know what he likes, slow and easy. You watch the way your hands glide along his shaft, smiling when the sticky pre-cum coats your fingers. So pretty.

He clears his throat, and you correct your mistake like you've been Pavloved. Looking up at his flushed face, chest heaving, and body, eyes watching your every move. Nervousness tends to build up in your chest when he looks at you like that. No walls or hidden meaning, just sheer desire. You want to hide away from it, but you know he won't let you. All you can do is swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat and let your face burn hotter and hotter.

You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some of the need between your legs. It's useless, as expected, and only serves to make you feel more pathetic. You don't stop, though, obediently tugging his member at an even pace. His breath grows more shaky with each stroke, mouth slightly ajar and puffing the hot air out unevenly. Much prettier.

His fingers trace along your chin, down the sensitive column of your neck, and back up again. Mirroring your movements from earlier, giving you a taste of your own medicine. It makes you shy away a little, flinching back when they dip between your collarbones. He spreads them out as he comes back up, pausing in the center of your throat and giving the smallest press, prompting you to swallow against them. He shudders when you do, having to use the door to keep himself upright.

He was close, so close. It made you want to speed up, but you don't. Not unless he tells you to.

"Are you sorry?" He suddenly asks, low and gravely, like it was hard to get out in the first place.

You bite your lip, shrinking into yourself as you mumble, "'m sorry..."

"Clearly," he commands, "or else I'll make you stop right now."

You jolt, shaking your head adamantly, "I-I'm sorry. I am! I promise, please?"

He scoffs a laugh, "Brat... open your mouth, now."

You comply, sticking your tongue out, and within a few moments, he's spurting out onto it. You lap up his release obediently, never breaking eye contact, no matter how much it drives you insane. The hand on your chin comes up to pet your hair, a silent praise for your good work.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asks lowly, scratching your scalp gently.

You nod, proud to please. It's cute. Really cute. But he's not quite satisfied. With a low hum, he helps you off your knees, nudging you through the house on a straight path to the bedroom.

"Why don't we test that theory, then?" He whispers, a promise that you were in for a long night of behavioral correction.

SYLUS

Sylus was a tease at heart, always pushing your buttons and getting on your nerves with little to no effort at all. He'd admitted to you on more than one occasion that he found your feisty reactions positively adorable. You were his little kitten, after all, what kind of man would he be if he didn't get you swatting your claws at him?

However, teasing him was a difficult endeavor. One that you'd become an expert in. See, you couldn't just whisper sweet nothings into his ear or draw your hands along him sensually. He didn't react to that; he found it more funny than alluring. Calling you needy, which you weren't. No, if you wanted to get something out of him you had to be smarter than just sheer sex appeal.

You had to be cute.

Not so cute that you came off as childish and stupid, he would catch on to things too fast and ruin your fun. Just cute enough that it would get his heart racing, make him pause, and take a second to admire you. When he did that, you knew you got what you wanted.

Which is why you were walking hand in hand with him now, swinging your arm just slightly between your bodies. You were in some expensive shopping district, looking around for something to wear for a mission you were assigned to. He'd insisted on buying you a dress when you'd mentioned it offhand. Who were you to deny him the privilege of seeing you spin around in glittering dresses like a teenager picking out a prom dress?

You'd gotten a bit... off track, though. Purposefully, of course, not that he needed to know that. Excitedly bounding from shop window to shop window, gazing in at the silly souvenirs and cute little stuffed animals like a kid on Christmas. Sylus allowed you to tug him around, a soft smile on his face as you rambled about how cute that little teddy bear is, then in the same breath refused to let him buy it for you.

You stopped short when you came across a little standee outside of a costume shop, laughing at its contents. Cat ears of various types hung on the little turnstile, the perfect killer. You bounded up to it, scanning across the different types before plucking two off the rack. You turn back to Sylus then, a giddy smile as you show him your little treasure, lifting it up with pride.

He leans down without another word, letting you set the white pair on his head. His eyes softening when you clap your hands. You know you've got him right where you want him. You just needed the finishing blow. You set the second pair on your head, pointing your chin to the sky like a proud lion.

He smirks at the sight, petting your head like he would a regular cat, "Aren't you cute?"

You bite your lip, going in for the throat, "Now I really am your kitten, huh?"

He pauses, visibly processing your words and realizing just what you were up to. A scoff tumbles out of his mouth, eyes rolling from the sheer idiocy. He'd fallen for your cutesy little antics, again, just like he always did. Steady fingers grip your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes settled on him.

"I wasn't aware she was so prone to misbehavior. Tell me, are you looking for punishment, kitten?" He purrs lowly.

Mission successful, "I'dunno what you mean, Sy..."

--

Riding Sylus always felt impossible thanks to his incredible size. You always managed to fit it, but it was more than just a little fight. This is what you asked for, though. Your little cry for attention earlier rewarded with a brand new pair of cat ears, and Sylus’ lazy smirk as you struggled to adjust to him.

Your hands weakly kneaded at his chest, trying to ground yourself from the intensity of the stretch. He merely watched you, red eyes drawing across your figure slow and steady, pleased to have you on display for him. His calloused hands rested at your waist, thumbing over the skin there in approval as you settled down.

It was impossible to hide from him like this, making the burning sensation across your body all the more apparent. You just couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the way he seemed to drink you in, savoring you with every sense at his disposal. You were sure he had a secret sixth one made just to relish in your humiliation. Yet, he does not say a word to shame you or make you feel less than. Just watches and appreciates you as you are.

Somehow, that was worse than degradation, melting your mind to a mushy pile of nervousness.

Still, you’d practically begged for this, and as always Sylus had given it to you as you wished. You wouldn’t want to disappoint both of you, so you took a deep breath and began rolling your hips. Slow little circles at first. Unsure, but gradually building as you grew more comfortable in your place on top of him.

Each movement set your nerves alight, sending shocks of pleasure across each inch of your skin. The heat building in your core, spanning across every nook and cranny of your body, wrapping you in a blanket of warm pleasure. Sylus seems to track it with his eyes, drawing up from the sensual roll of your hips, to the way your muscles tense, across your bouncing tits, and landing on your scrunched up little face.

You could practically hear him purring — no, he was purring. A low grumble shaking his chest, traveling through your trembling fingertips and sending the signals directly to the heat between your legs. To be admired so much was just too much for you to handle right now.

You lean over him, tucking your face into his shoulder. It’s a weak attempt to hide at best, not that you’d be able to hide no matter what you did, but you make it all too easy for him to pull you up with a gentleness that seemed too loving for the moment. All too Sylus as he eased your pouting visage back into his line of sight.

“Running away already?” He coos, fingers massaging your neck as if placating you.

You’re far too embarrassed to argue with him, so you just nod, “It’s too much.”

He hums, mocking thought as he takes in your weak excuses. You’re far too cute for him to know what to do with, but he would figure it out, “Do you need my help, kitten?”

In the second of clarity you have, you debate telling him no. Yet, he twitches inside of you when you open your eyes to take in his all consuming stare, and the thought evaporates from your mind. You do need his help, very badly. You’ll probably burn alive between the scorching pleasure and his fiery gaze without him there to placate the flames.

You give him a weak little teary eyed nod, and he eases your face back into his shoulder. He was always so accommodating with you, so gentle and loving that it made your stomach tie into knots. Only forgetting the feeling when he helped to work you along his length, humming sweet words of praise into your ears, letting you hide away from him all you wanted. That’s what you wanted after all, right?

CALEB

Teasing Caleb was an art form that only you had mastered. You would think that after knowing someone for so long, it would be easy to rile them up. Yet, Caleb was the most controlled man you had ever met when it came to handling your light-hearted jabs. Part of it was thanks to how well he knew you, but the other part was simply because he was good at ignoring his own feelings. He could push and push and push them down to the depths of his mind until they were practically non-existent, and your teasing was no different.

The most you'd get for your efforts was a smirk, maybe a ruffle of your hair as he scolds you, and if you were really annoying, he would chase you around the house and tickle you for your crimes. Rarely was it anything more intense than that.

Rarely. Not never.

There was one way to get Caleb hot and bothered enough to do something, and that was your favorite game of all time: Look, don't touch. It was fun to see just how far you could get, doing all his favorite things with an air of innocence, just to see how long it would take to get him to crack.

Your personal favorite method of torture was to find a shirt of his - dirty, preferably - slide it on and walk around the house with nothing but it and a lacy pair of red panties. (His favorite, judging from how often they go missing from the laundry.) It's a long game you have to play, because winning against Caleb's disciplined ability to pretend was always a long game. Luckily, you were just about the one weakness in his mental fortitude.

You start in the morning before he leaves for work, or else it won't work. If he's at home all day, he'll just take care of it without thought. You walk out of the room, and his eyes catch on your legs. They rake over the exposed skin like trying to burn it into his memory, as if he hadn't done that a million times before. Then, like clockwork, he realizes what he's doing and tries to look anywhere but you as you waltz around. Knowing he has a responsibility that he can't skimp on, even for you, keeps him stiff and robotic as you kiss him goodbye.

Then, step two kicks in: text him frequently. Keeping yourself at the forefront of his mind (which you always are, mind you) and letting him know you're thinking of him makes him squirm in a way that's unbefitting of a soldier. He can't stop himself from thinking about your legs, the way his shirt rested against your body, and what was beneath it. Waiting, begging him to get a peek as you stretched your arms over your head. His eye twitches when you send him yet another suspiciously worded text - never incriminating, but always implicative.

Then, when his shift is nearly over, when you spent your whole day playing coy, you reach the final phase of your plan. You send pictures. Nothing explicit. That would ruin the fun of it all. Just cute, mundane tasks. A downward angle of you cooking dinner, reading a book on his bed, or maybe just a picture of a movie you're watching with your bare legs in view. All visual reminders of what he left at home, all reminders of why he needs to get back now.

--

Normally, Caleb prefers you to tell him what you like in bed. He's soft, attentive, a little sloppy, but entirely obsessed with your pleasure. It's not as though he's neglecting that part of himself, quite the opposite, actually. You were the one who had made it abundantly clear that you wanted- needed him to put you in your place. He knows your little games, he knows you like no other person on the planet - in the galaxy, hell, the entire universe.

So, of course, he knew you wanted him to fold you in half and show you what happens to misbehaving, teasing little pipsqueaks like yourself for all your efforts. Who was he to deny you of what you'd been begging for all day? Wouldn't that make him a bad Caleb? It almost means that the way he makes you look at him, knowing full well that the eye contact sends you into a flurry of embarrassment. He's just so... intense, in every sense of the word, especially when he's having sex with you.

One leg bent up to your head, the other wrapped around his waist, and two strong arms boxing your head had you surrounded. Chest to chest, buried to the hilt, there was no escaping the little prison of pleasure Caleb had built for you. Your reward equaled your punishment, and you wished you could complain, but you knew your voice would catch in your throat and Caleb would tease you for it. You had no choice but to sit there and look up at him, hoping he'd be a little nicer than you were to him today.

His eyes are hot as they trace along the planes of your face, eating up the sight like his last meal on earth. The subtle shift in his expression as you squeeze around him, feeling the intensity of his gaze far more deeply than you'd ever admit out loud. His eyebrows twitch up in surprise, before a lazy smirk crawls over his face, leaning down to kiss along the apple of your cheek to the shell of your ear.

"Y'know," He starts in a low drawl, sending your head spinning, "If you want me to take care of you, you can just ask."

You shake your head, though there isn't a real purpose for it. You're just a little too flustered to think right when he's got you like this. His dominance really is something all-consuming, and it reminds you why you don't tease him like this often. You would be a dead man if you had to put up with his relentlessness every time you had sex.

"No?" He asks, as if he's confused, but the condescension in his voice gives him away.

He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing against your walls just enough to get you to tremble a little. Then, all at once, he pulls himself out to the tip and pushes his way back inside in a fluid motion, "You don't want me to do that? Then tell me what you need, won't you?"

You whimper, tossing your arms on your face like that might help you here. Nearly forgetting how easily he overpowers you in your hazy headspace until he seamlessly pulls your hands over your head, interlacing your fingers as if they belonged together.

"No, no, no. None of that, you gotta look at me, 'kay?" He hums so sickeningly sweet it makes you want to swing at him.

A whine tears through your throat, tossing your head to the side to bury into his arm. Defiant and bratty to the end, as always. He huffs out a laugh that's all too affectionate for how annoying he was being, then chases your face with his own. You feel the warm press of his sweat-slicked forehead against yours, heated breath fanning over your face. You don't budge, not even when he nudges your nose with his own as encouragement.

He's reaching the end of his limited patience; you can feel it in the way his fingers tremble around your wrists. He could hold back all day when you weren't physically near him, but he was inside you for god's sake. Any man - well trained soldier or not - would collapse under the extreme pressure of a nice warm pussy. Your nice warm pussy was simply one of the greatest weaknesses he had, second only to your oh so pretty eyes he was being deprived of right now.

"Pips," He whines, voice uncharacteristically squeaky, "Lemme see your pretty eyes, yeah?"

You curl your hands into tight fists, trying and failing to fight him off one last time. A little voice in your mind reminds you of how mean you were to him today. Listen to his voice, he needs you just as bad as you need him. It's okay to give in, Caleb will take care of everything, it whispers so sweetly. You can't refuse its logic, not when it seems so totally right as he twitches inside you again.

You slowly peel your eyes open, nearly jumping at the way he's staring so intently at you. Brows worried, lip caught between his teeth, and pretty purple eyes darting across your face. You expect some kind of comment from him, some words of praise or thanks, but all you get is his hips pulling back and slamming back into you. It gets your toes curling instantaneously, a moan ripping from your vocal cords in surprise.

You shouldn't be, though. This is what you wanted. Caleb was just giving it to you. He would always give it to you.

[devilsudon]

୨୧ nanami is soo bad at hiding his pathetic moans.

“oh, fuck,” he breathed out the tip of his dick stretching your wet pussy, the sensation pulling a raw edge to his voice.

you threw your head back against the pillow, a soft moan escaping your lips, and nanami seized the moment, his teeth grazed your neck, then bit down hard, making you squeal.

the sharp sting was a distraction, a way to ground himself as he fought the sounds threatening to spill from his throth, his dick finally plunged in fully, and he found his rhythm, thrusting faster.

his hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in as he focused on your face, his brows furrowed, lips parted.

you squeezed around him, your pussy tightening, and his rhythm faltered for a split second. “shit honey—” he grunted, his voice low and strained, a pathetic moan nearly slipping through before he caught it with the curse.

he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezing shut as he thrust harder, trying to bury the sounds in the intensity of his movements.

“k-kento…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need, and his gaze snapped to yours, sharp and focused despite the haze of pleasure.

“y-yeah?” he managed, his tone rough but attentive, always attuned to you even in the heat of the moment.

one arm slid behind your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your face up to meet his eyes.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter, flicker of concern cutting through his focus. even now, he couldn’t help but check on you, his care for you woven into every action.

you nodded, breathless, your hands gripping his shoulders. “keep going,” you whispered, urging him on, his jaw tightened, and he gave a short nod, his hips snapping forward with renewed intensity.

the bed creaked under the force of his thrusts, the rhythm steady but relentless, each movement pulling a low grunt from his chest.

another moan threatened to escape, and he hissed, dipping his head to bite your shoulder, the sharp press of his teeth muffling the sound against your skin.

“goddamn it,” he muttered, his lips brushing your collarbone as he fought to keep himself in check, his hand tightened in your hair, pulling again, not harshly but enough to make you gasp.

“you feel—” he cut himself off with another grunt, his forehead pressing harder against yours, his breath hot and uneven.

he squeezed his eyes shut, a low, desperate sound catching in his throat before he smothered it with a growled, “fuck.” you clung to him, your nails digging into his back, matching his rhythm as best you could.

the way he moved, the way he tried so hard to hide those soft, pathetic moans, only made you want him more, he was unraveling, piece by piece, and you felt it in the way his thrusts grew less controlled, more desperate.

his teeth found your neck again, biting down just enough to sting, and you squealed softly, your body arching into his.

“kento,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, and he responded with a low hum, his lips grazing your jaw. “you don’t have to hold back,” you said knowing how hard he tried to keep himself composed.

he exhaled sharply, almost a scoff, but there was no malice in it. “easier said than done,” he muttered, his voice rough with effort.

his hand slid from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin briefly before he braced himself again, his thrusts growing harder, more erratic.

another moan slipped out, and he cursed under his breath “shit” before burying his face against your neck. “you’re doing fine,” he said, his voice muffled against you, as if he needed to ground himself by focusing on you.

“just—stay with me.” it was as much a plea as a command, his usual composure cracking under the weight of his need.

[devilsudon]

self care

[devilsudon]

tristamp new year art got me acting unwise

[devilsudon]

Bullets, confetti, and sand

[devilsudon]

jdjwjbwbrjw

[devilsudon]

I just know 98 vash could finesse the shit out of stampede knives

[devilsudon]

I really want to lick it…