#caleb pulling him close for a forehead touch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anantaru · 2 months ago

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⋆. 𐙚 ̊ how they kiss you — love and deepspace

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

genre. fem! reader, making out (quite sexual), body fondling, established relationship

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

there's always a subtle silence before you happen to feel it— you know? the way zayne watches your lips like he's studying anatomy again— not clinically, silly! but reverently, like he might carve the shape of your mouth into his memory.

so precise, so devout, it borders on madness. soaked in tension and lust— quite obsessive, don't you agree? almost grotesque in how deeply he desired you.

the man leans in, close enough for his breath to ghost over your skin as he abruptly stops, catching himself in the same course of action he tends to take, every damn time.

zayne held himself back like the act of restraint was the only thing keeping him from collapsing into you completely, succumbing to those pretty, warm lips of yours as something deep inside of him broke that night.

he's going deeper before pressing into your lips at last— his psyche, his shadows, the way the hunger on his tongue felt different than anyone else's as he cups your face like he's afraid of shattering it, mouth crashing into yours.

not messy, not wild, instead, devastatingly precise— and every stroke of his warm muscle felt like it's been rehearsed in secret, fantasized about in sinful dreams as his hand slides down your throat, thumb resting on your pulse like he's checking it— not for medical reasons, but for control.

the kiss deepens and sharpens at the edges of each lap and suckle of your bottom lip between his teeth as his body presses you to the nearest surface with a force just edging on subtle bruising— and when your fingers suddenly thread into his hair to taste him more, when you pull him harder into you— he groans low, a sound rattling from somewhere hidden and forbidden, yes, like something sacred within him was being exposed.

and well, in that exposé, zayne finds a terrible, exquisite relief in each slip and slide of your tongues intertwining, bodies stroking each other as though this was the only way he's ever known how to feel alive.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

xavier touches you first— although not to grope, yet to ground himself with his palm on your shaking hip while his other hand brushes against your soft cheek, and that look on him which was revealed next haunted you— like he's seeing a future he doesn’t believe he deserves.

slow, searching, his lips coax across your bottom lip, the tension behind each suckle on it unbearable as he continues to trace yours like he's adamant to make it everlasting. your boyfriend grunted like restraint stretched thin inside his frame, like one more kiss might tip him over the edge into something more, well, feral? ugh, but he holds himself back of course.

yet just barely.

those kisses you shared weren't just random pecks here and there, they felt like confessions, truly, like a collapse of two loving hearts forming a dance of possession— each movement sharpening to the truth of what this relationship meant to him, all of it rooted in desire and lust, shadowed with emotional gravity and physical intensity of hands squeezing your flesh.

and you felt it, all of it— the tremble in his fingers, the quiet threat of his teeth brushing just behind every soft tug at your lip, as though even the smallest motion could unravel him further.

you arch into him, obediently feeling the low, guttural sound that escaped his throat— a half moan, a sound so faint it could almost be mistaken for a prayer, whispered to no god at all, but to the madness he cannot escape.

your lips stay close at all times, breathing hard against each other with foreheads pressed together, "i don't want to hurt you," his voice, thick with restraint, was taken hostage somewhere between a confession and collapse, yet his hands disobey him at last— sliding beneath your shirt with a quiet desperation, mapping the ridges of your shape like he's meant to be.

truly, if you let him keep going with those addictive kisses, he'll worship you until he forgets where he ends and you begin.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

hands in your hair, rafayel's lips were already open and panting, breath warm and uneven and jaw slacked, well, it's all then and there with no waiting, no warning— just the sudden, dizzying sensation of being devoured by the man you loved.

his tongue was everywhere on you— teasing you, curling and invading your mouth as he moans into your parted lips, pulling your lower lip between his teeth and laughing when you gasp out in slight shock— quite literally, the man loved to push you over the edge, he lived for the sweet, little responses you'd grace him with in return.

from being tangled in your hair to squeezed within your clothes, rafayel slides down further to cup your ass, squeezing the addicting mounds of flesh as you wince into his hold, "ugh, you taste like a bad decision," he smirks, whispering against your mouth, yet already leaning right back in.

before you could even response to him he kisses you harder, deeper, lapping and lapping and lapping his hefty tongue against your own as your hips were grinding against him just enough to make the room spin and your eyes roll back into your skull.

without a doubt, every second with him felt like falling and screaming and shattering all at once— fast at that, disoriented and inevitable when all you needed is for him to imbed you with his scent until there was nothing left of you to claim.

it's there when you realize that rafayel tasted like the sweetest sin that has ever existed, not kissing to seduce, but to ruin— and make sure you’re begging him for it.

for a slight second he pulls away just enough to look at your lips and what he's done to them— and would you look at that? your boyfriend adored the lusting sight of swollen, glistening, needy lips parted and puffed up, "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

rafayel says it like it's a promise.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

you can’t call this a kiss— no, not with the way sylus's mouth drags across yours like he's already lost the war against wanting you.

to call it a claim would be closer though, but even that sounds too civilized. there is nothing civil about the way his tongue parts your lips— wet, scorching, impatient, nothing gentle in the sting of his teeth catching your mouth, just enough to pull breath from your lungs and copper to your tongue.

he tastes it— even better, tastes you— and it makes something violent bloom in his chest as he growls out embarrassingly loud, not like an animal but like a man who's tasted divinity and was furious that he ever lived without it in the past.

his grip on your hips tighten as he drags you against him, feeling you up like shame didn't exist in his vocabulary, in fact, it quite literally didn't.

not a flicker of hesitation, not even the illusion of pause— only the dreadful inevitability of a hunger given form around his tongue, his lips moving with the certainty of something long premeditated, as if his body had been waiting its entire life for permission to devour you.

he doesn’t ask for allowance to be rougher, sylus knows he doesn’t need to.

his mouth licks into yours with a frenzied rhythm, like he’s trying to bury every unspeakable thought inside your throat as every shove, every bitten gasp, every ragged exhale that leaves his body was a hidden confession disguised as a dominating sin.

the man was not delicate. he was not kind. but he was true.

terrifyingly, brutally true.

furthermore, his tongue traces a wet line from your bottom lip, creeping toward your jaw, then dipping lower to your neck— infused with desperation and something dangerously raw.

his teeth find your skin at last— not out of need, no, but out of some dark impulse deep hidden beneath his heart, as if marking you up was the only act left that can prove he existed, that he's here, tethered to a body that's already unraveling.

"you have no fucking idea," he pants, his breath a jagged rhythm against your skin as if the act of inhaling and exhaling was the only thing that kept him secured— each exhalation a tremor, a faint admission of the madness threatening to spill over.

he smirks, "what you’ve done to me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

in the language of a yearning man, caleb doesn't speak— instead the silence clung to him like a second skin, as if words would shatter whatever fragile shell still held him upright.

as an alternative, his hands found your waist as he exhales deeply from his mouth when he feels your body— yet tentative at first, but with a pressure that deepens and sharpens, afterwards he leans in to kiss you.

not in a haste, no, not like a man chasing basic pleasure, but like a man aching with his mouth against yours— slow, burning, unbearably tender.

his lips taste of quiet torment, of years spent repressing the thing now trembling beneath his touch and the longer it goes on, the more unraveled he becomes— now here, his breath falters, his jaw tenses and when his tongue brushes up against your own needy one, it is with such aching slowness that it felt like a sin.

he grips your jaw softly, almost fearfully, as if he cannot believe you're letting him touch you as his other hand slips beneath the waistband of your pants— fingertips skimming over your bare flesh and squeezing at it like he's utterly worshipping you.

more and more, you want more but the kiss breaks open, becoming wet and open-mouthed, desperate and messy and ugh— caleb cannot stop and neither can you, even less when you whine at him all quietly and overstimulated, the kind of sound which made a man fall on his knees.

okay, he should pull away, correct? uh, before you'll both be unable to stop and take it further, you see the truth in that?

well, he doesn’t.

and neither do you.

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a-hermit-pining · 3 months ago

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Making Up with LaDS Men

AN: So soft. Ugh, I love them so much.

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Ingredients: 95% fluff, 5% angst.

My Fav: Rafayel's was the one that made me write this but Caleb is pretty nice too, if I must say so myself.

Rafayel:

He stares out his window and finds you perched on the pavement. In the rain. Right beneath his window, waiting for him to look.

And when he does, he nearly trips in his rush to get to you. He’s exasperated. Worried. And irrevocably touched.

By the tides, love made idiots of you both.

It had started as an argument about dishes. But it spiraled, into fights about living together, into complaints about time, into accusations about waiting too long, loving too little.

Until you finally stormed out, leaving behind one very outraged, very wounded fish. “Truth is, you’ll never choose me. Not even at the cost of my soul.”

He had yelled it at your retreating back. And he hated how hard he had to dig for words that would hurt. Hated how good he was at choosing the cruel ones. How stupid it was, wanting to wound you before you could wound him.

And when the tempers cooled and silence set in, you returned. But the door was locked.

So you sat outside, holding a bunch of slightly wilted flowers. And you waited. You waited until the sun disappeared. Until the clouds rolled in. Until the rain began to fall.

You stayed there, below his window. Because you knew how much your beloved fish loved the smell of petrichor. The scent of the world right after it breaks.

You wait, not as long as him, never that much but enough to make his heart melt.

Xavier:

He doesn’t stay mad for long. You know that. He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t slam doors. Doesn’t lash out. But when the fight ends, if it can even be called a fight, he just... gets quiet. And that silence feels heavier than anger ever could.

He still makes your tea the next morning. Still leaves your charger on your pillow. Still kisses the top of your head before leaving for work. But he doesn’t hold your gaze. Not the way he usually does. Not for long.

So you show up that night with his favorite takeout. The kind that makes his shoulders drop the second he smells it. You light a candle, put on that playlist you both pretend not to love, and pull him gently into your lap when he walks in.

He lets you.

You wrap your arms around him. You kiss his cheek. His temple. The corner of his mouth. Soft, lingering things.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

His voice is muffled, face tucked into your shoulder. “I know you are.”

You press your forehead to his. “But are we okay?”

He hesitates. Just for a breath. Then nods. “We’re okay,” he says. “I just, sometimes I wish you’d come back sooner. I miss you too fast.”

You close your eyes and squeeze him a little tighter. “You’re allowed to be upset, you know. You don’t always have to hold it in.”

He gives a quiet laugh, “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But if I hold onto it, I lose time. Time I’d rather spend like this.”

Zayne:

BAKE. HIM. SWEETS.

He’s not the one to start arguments, he rarely even realizes they’ve become arguments until they’re over. Too real, too blunt, too logical for his own good. So most fights leave him confused at first... and horrified once he understands he’s the reason you walked away upset.

And if you’re the one feeling bad? Baking is the way.

This man is powerless against soft banana bread and sincere apologies. Bring him a tray of kiss-me brownies, what-are-we cinnamon rolls, or a marry-me pie, and suddenly he’s the most forgiving man alive.

Drop by hospital with a wrapped container, and you’ve won.

The moment he sees you standing outside his office, holding Tupperware and fidgeting like you might flee, he’s already smiling.

He’s a big fan of how you tailor everything for him. How you swap sugar for dates. Add protein. Use almond flour because “it’s good for your brain.”

He won’t even bring up the fight. He’ll sit beside you, still in scrubs, tucking into banana bread like it’s a love letter. And listen as you explain how you got the texture just right.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, brushing crumbs from your wrist. “But this banana bread earns you forgiveness. ”

Sylus:

He has not learned to share his pain. It is sharp and biting, searing both you and him. Sometimes, it lashes out hard enough to damage the fragile thing between you.

And he knows it.

He pushes you away, offering you the trigger, daring you to run the bullet through his heart. Because that would be easier than being vulnerable.

So lost is he in his ancient ache that he can’t see clearly anymore. He hides his hurt beneath a cold, cruel mask, like a wounded animal, snapping before it can be touched.

But it’s your gentleness that undoes him.

It’s when you give him nothing but love in return for his lashing, when you reach for him instead of leaving, that he breaks.

Be there for him. Stay. Hold him. Let him fall apart in your arms. Kiss the pain away, slowly, quietly.

He doesn’t need fixing. He needs time. And love that stays soft, even when he can’t.

Caleb:

A grand gesture.

This man is all about belonging. Wanting to be yours. For you to be his. And for the entirety of existence to know it.

The fight had been devastating.

You’d blamed him. Walked out, left him waiting for weeks. No contact. No updates. He couldn’t find you. Didn’t know if you were safe. Didn’t know if you still wanted him.

And when he finally found you again, Caleb had been quiet. Distant.

He didn’t know whether to reach for you or let you go. Didn’t know if you needed him… or needed to be free of him.

So imagine his surprise when he sees you, at the Fleet’s Christmas party. On stage. At the grand piano. In front of everyone.

You don’t speak. You play.

A soft song. Gentle. Hesitant. An apology spun into musical notes. A lullaby between lovers. A plea for forgiveness.

And then, as the music shifts, it becomes the song of Penelope, the woman who waited for Odysseus, year after year, unwavering.

It’s not subtle. It’s not meant to be.

You are declaring yourself his. You are saying it in front of everyone.

And that is what wins him.

Not just the music. Not just the apology. But the audacity of loving him loud, after hurting him quiet.

He watches you under the stage lights, blinking like he’s afraid to breathe. And when the song ends, he doesn’t wait.

He crosses the room, takes your face in his hands, and kisses you like he never wants to stop.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace headcannon #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader #love and deepspace reaction #comfort #fluff #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #angst with a happy ending

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eelliotss · 4 months ago

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— Borrowed time, part 3

‼️Caleb x reader x Sylus. Reader not MC. University AU. Modern AU. Angst angst angst!

Everyone knows Caleb is in love with MC. Everyone. Including you. But that does not stop him from flirting with you, teasing you, keeping you close. And it definitely does not stop you from falling for him—even when you know you’re just a stand-in, a place holder.

“Had you paid a little more attention, you would’ve known I hated the thunder too.”

word count = 5.2k

i appreciate all likes, comments, reblogs, and asks. i may not reply to all of them, but i want you to know that i reread them over and over 🥺

part 1 | masterlist | part 4

The choir of rain showering down envelops your whole world. Holding yourself close, you hug yourself away from the constant roar of the thunders.

You did not notice the man watching— his gaze lingering on the drenched rag of a person curled up on the roadside.

Another roar tears through the sky, clawing at your chest, sending tremors down your spine. With each shallow breath, you silently pray for the nightmare to be over, to wake up under warm covers in the safety of your own room.

He probably saw the state you’re in—the haziness in your unfocused eyes and the way you blink, once, twice, sluggish and distant. A sigh leaves his lips as he kneels down to your level. With one gloved hand holding his helmet, the other lightly flicks your forehead.

The flick is light—too light for the weight crushing your chest, yet enough to tether you back to reality and bring some focus back into your gaze.

You slowly raise your gaze, meeting his crimson orbs. Unwavering. Sharp. Studying.

His lips twitch—not quite a smirk, not quite concern.

“You look like hell,” he states as he tilts his head, studying you like you’re an amusing puzzle.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your lips tremble, but no words form.

Sylus exhales, slow and deliberate—not quite a sigh, but something close.

“Can you get up?”

Silence. Only the sound of the rain, the low hum of the storm, and the quiver of your breath fill the air.

He clicks his tongue, running a hand through his drenched silver locks before shaking off the excess water. Then, without a word, he drops his helmet onto your head, fingers swift and practiced as he secures the strap beneath you chin

The sudden weight startles you. But before you can react, you’re lifted.

A sharp gasp catches in your throat as his arms hook effortlessly around you, pulling you up from the cold ground and onto the sleek leather seat.

He swings his leg over the bike, boots steady against the pavement. The engine purrs beneath you, low and commanding.

“Hold tight.”

The words are simple. A command. A warning.

Your hands instinctively clutch his waist, gripping the fabric of his jacket. The sudden yank pushes you flush against him.

But through the turmoil of it all—through the howling wind, the biting cold, the chaos swallowing the whole world as you ride through the roads a little too fast—beneath your fingers, beneath the soaked fabric,

he’s warm.

The contrast is sharp. The world untamed, screaming, tearing everything apart. The situation rushes past you, too quick, too unreal.

Through it all, you—fractured, weightless, drowning— hold onto him— steady, unshaken—like he’s the only rope tying you to reality.

•

“What’s your room number?” he asks as the bike comes to a stop and the deep rumble of the engine fades.

By the time you’ve returned to the resort, the campfire is long gone—reduced to nothing but damp coals and the ghost of laughter lingering in the air.

People scattered, rushed towards shelter, their hurried footsteps splashed against puddles. The storm has chased everyone indoors.

Except for you and him.

You’re still clutching onto him, fingers curled around the fabric of his jacket. The lingering warmth of his body beneath your touch feels foreign.

“Well?” Sylus’s voice cuts through the silence.

You blink, realizing you haven’t answered.

Your lips part, allowing a light whisper to leave your lips.

“409.”

Without a word, he starts walking.

Perhaps it’s because you did not want to be left alone in the darkness of the night again, or perhaps it was because the sudden loss of warmth prompted your body to move on its own.

You trail behind him through the dimly lit halls, the faint hum of electricity buzzing through the silence. Water drips from your clothes, leaving a trail behind as you shiver against the cold air-conditioned corridor.

You steal a glance at him. Sylus walks ahead, hands shoved into his pockets, completely unfazed. As if he didn’t just find you curled up on the side of the road, as if you’re not drenched and shaking beside him.

The two of you stop in front of your door.

You fumble for the key card, fingers trembling slightly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold or from everything that’s happened tonight.

“Shh, don’t be scared.”

Soft coos seep through the door.

“I’m here, pipsqueak. I’m here.”

Soft giggles follow the gentle whispers.

“You’ve always stayed with me on days like these, holding me just like this whenever there were thunders.” Her voice is small and fragile—like something meant to be cherished, protected.

Your fingers hover the doorknob, frozen in place.

The storm rages on, harmonizing with the soft giggles on the other side of the door.

You stood there paralyzed, your mind too tired to register whatever it is that your heart is going through.

Sylus leans against the doorframe, watching you hesitate. Waiting.

“So? You gonna go in, or are we just standing here all night?” He finally asks, voice low and edged with amusement.

Your lack of response earns slow exhale from him.

Before you can fall any deeper, before you can drown in the ache clawing at your chest—he moves.

His hand wraps around your wrist, firm and unyielding.

You flinch, eyes finally snapping to him.

He doesn’t say anything—just turns, walking, dragging you with him.

Away from the door. Away from them.

“Sylus—“ Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t loosen his grip.

And deep down, you were glad he didn’t.

You let the warmth of his hand anchor you, let the storm swallow everything else, and let the laughter behind the doorframe fade into nothing.

•

Sylus doesn’t stop walking until you’re deep inside the quiet halls of the resort, the sound of rain and thunder fading into the background.

His grip finally loosens as he stops in front of a door.

Without looking at you, he pulls out his key card and swipes it. The lock clicks open.

“Get in.” His voice is flat, low—an order, not a request.

You linger by the doorway, water pooling beneath your feet.

Sylus exhales sharply for the nth time that night, raking a hand through damp silver strands, sending droplets scattering to the floor. Then, without warning, he grabs a towel from the bed and throws it at you.

It smacks against your chest, snapping you out of your daze.

“Shower.”

You blink up at him. His crimson eyes don’t waver.

His jaw ticks. Another sigh, this one slower, controlled.

More is tossed at you.

A shirt. A pair of sweatpants. His clothes.

They land in your arms, warm, freshly laundered, carrying the faintest trace of him—clean, sharp, and something unplaceable.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric.

“You’re soaked. You’ll get sick.”

It’s not concern. It’s a fact. A simple statement.

When you still don’t move, he clicks his tongue, tone dipping into something dangerously close to impatience.

“Either you go shower, or I’ll throw you in there myself.”

That finally makes your feet move.

You clutch the clothes tighter against your chest and step past him, disappearing into the bathroom.

The door clicks shut behind you.

And only then do you finally exhale.

The warmth of the shower does little to soothe the tightness in your chest, but at the very least, it washes away the lingering cold from the rain, the exhaustion clinging to your skin like a second layer.

When you finally step out, damp hair sticking to your neck, Sylus is exactly where you left him—leaning against the dresser, one knee bent, a towel draped over his head. His silver hair peeks through, darkened by water, stray strands clinging to his forehead. He’s slow with his movements, lazy almost, dragging the towel through his hair before ruffling it out with one hand.

For the first time, you actually look at him. Not just a passing glance, not a flicker of acknowledgement,—but really look.

At the way the dim light carves shadows along his jawline—the cut of his jawline, the slight furrow in his brow, the way droplets trail down his collarbone before vanishing beneath the black tank clinging to his build—damp and unforgiving, outlining lean muscle and sharp edges.

There’s something effortlessly sharp about him, something dangerous in the way he simply carries his frame.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as his gaze flickers up, sweeping over you. Unbothered. Knowing. Like he’s caught you staring.

“Like what you see?” his voice drips with lazy amusement.

You blink, heat creeping up your neck before you compose your features.

“What is there to like?”

His smirk deepens, crimson eyes flickering with something teasing.

“You really are a shortcake.” He smugs as his gaze roams your body. “Looks like my clothes are trying to swallow you whole.”

You glance down. The oversized shirt hangs loosely off your shoulders, the hem brushing against your knees. The sweatpants are cinched at the waist, tied hastily to keep them from slipping.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “It’s not my fault you’re built like a damn tree.”

Sylus snorts, shaking his head as he runs the towel over his hair one last time before tossing it onto the chair. “Move.”

He brushes past you, the scent of clean linen and faint sandalwood trailing behind him. The door clicks shut a second later, leaving you alone in the room.

For a moment, you simply stand there, staring at the empty space he left behind.

Then, with a slow, heavy breath, you make your way to the bed. The mattress dips beneath your weight, soft and warm—a stark contrast to the cold pavement you were curled up on just hours ago.

You sink into it, pulling the blankets over yourself, letting your body finally rest.

But sleep never comes.

Even as exhaustion tugs at your limbs, your mind refuses to quiet.

The storm still lingers beyond the windows, faint rumbles reverberating through the walls. Every moment from tonight replays, over and over again—

The laughter at the campfire.

Caleb’s dismissive jokes.

Caleb’s warmth, his head rested on your lap as the sun sets.

His voice, gentle, whispered—“I’m here, pipsqueak. I’m here.”

And the way the line cut before you could even finish your cry for help.

Your grip on the blanket tightens.

It’s pathetic. How much this hurts. How much he still has a hold on you, even when you know better.

You force yourself to listen to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, gripping into your own palm like doing so could lull you to sleep.

The blanket feels too heavy. The air, too thick.

You shift onto your side, curling in on yourself, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the ache sitting heavy in your chest.

The shower stops, and a moment later, the bathroom door opens.

Sylus steps out, towel draped around his neck, silver hair still damp, a few strands clinging to his skin. The scent of clean linen and something sharp, something distinctly him, fills the space.

He says nothing, nor does he acknowledge you.

Instead, he crosses the room in that effortless, unhurried way of his, tossing the towel onto a nearby chair before grabbing something from his bag.

You watch from the corner of your eye as he settles into the chair beside the bed, flipping the book open like he’s done this a thousand times before.

Like you’re not lying there, curled up in his clothes, drowning in the silence between you.

Like this is just another one of his quiet nights.

The pages turn, slow and steady, the faint rustle of paper weaving into the distant cries of thunder.

Still, the way the thunder rumbles through the sky, rolling and crackling so close, makes your body tense on instinct. You will your breathing to steady, to calm. But your hands won’t stop trembling.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid.

The sudden change from the steady rhythm of pages turning to the faint tap of his fingers against his phone screen causes your brows to furrow in curiosity. You crack an eye open just enough to see him searching something up. His expression remains as impassive as ever, his crimson gaze flicking across the screen, scanning whatever article he’s pulled up.

Then—without warning—he gets up, grabs your blanket, and yanks it off you.

“H-Hey—!” You barely have time to react before he moves, fast and measured, rolling you over onto the bedspread like you weigh nothing.

“What the hell are you—“

He ignores you. Ignores your flailing arms, ignores your indignant protests, and swiftly tugs the blanket around you, tucking you in so tight you can barely move.

You blink, completely stunned. You stare up at him, utterly dumbfounded, as he looks down at you with a face that is, somehow, completely unbothered.

“What the fuck is this?”

Sylus simply plops back down into his chair, cool as ever.

“It’s what they say helps cats with anxiety attacks.” He gestures vaguely towards his phone. “Something about mimicking the feeling of safety.”

Silence. You blink at him.

Once.

Twice.

His lips twitch—just slightly. “You’re welcome.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“What kind of dumb—this isn’t even—“ You wiggle, struggling against the tight wrap of the blanket. “Sylus, let me out.”

“No.

“Sylus.”

“They say chin scratches can also help calm cats down,” he smirks. “Would you want that too, kitten?”

You open your mouth to retort, but another loud crack of thunder cuts through the room. Your breath hitches before you can stop it.

Silence engulfs the room once more.

He flips to another page in his book.

“Do you hate it that much?” his eyes never leaving the words in front of him. “The thunders.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the way your hands still tremble against the blanket.

“No.”

Sylus hums, the sound low, almost skeptical. He flips another page.

“Convincing. Really.”

You would never admit it, but the tight wrap of blanket around you created a protective barrier between you and the world.

Or perhaps it is the steady rhythm of his breathing. The calm, unshaken presence beside you.

Your eyelids grow heavier.

The storm still lingers outside.

But here, in this quiet space, it’s bearable.

And before you realize it—the world turns dark.

•

Your eyes shoot open.

The room is steeped in deep blue, the quiet hum of dawn settling over the world. The storm has long passed, leaving behind only the faint scent of rain lingering in the air.

You instinctively look around, your pulse quickening as the memories of last night rush in like a relentless wave.

The chair beside the bed is empty. The book he was reading is gone.

He isn’t here.

A strange feeling settles in your chest—one you don’t have the energy to name.

You push yourself up, the oversized fabric of his clothes slipping loosely around your frame.

Right. You need to go.

Sliding off the bed, you grab your things, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing you need is anyone seeing you sneaking out of a room that isn’t yours.

The hallways are eerily silent, save for the distant rustle of the ocean breeze slipping through an open window. You slip into your own room unnoticed, the door clicking shut behind you.

MC is still asleep, curled beneath the blankets, her breathing slow and steady.

You exhale, body weighed down with exhaustion as you strip out of Sylus’s clothes, replacing them with your own. The fabric is warm, familiar.

Sliding your phone onto the charger, you finally crawl into bed, slipping under the covers beside MC.

She stirs slightly, shifting at the dip in the mattress, but doesn’t wake.

The silence stretches, the soft rhythm of her breathing lulling you into something close to peace.

You close your eyes.

•

You’re jolted awake by MC’s sudden exclaim.

“Oh my god, Yn!”

Your eyes snap open, the soft haze of sleep vanishing in an instant. MC is hovering over you, her phone clutched tightly in one hand, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Where the hell were you last night?!” she demands, voice a mix of worry and exasperation. “I called you like, a million times! I was this close to going out and looking for you—” She pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “But, you know… how I am with thunders.”

You blink, mind sluggish, body too drained to react.

MC huffs, shoving her phone in your face. “Seriously, Yn. I was worried sick!”

You squint at the screen, barely making out the endless stream of missed calls and texts before you sigh, rubbing a hand down your face.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I—”

What are you even supposed to say?

That you got caught in the rain? That you collapsed on the side of the road? That Sylus found you?

That you spent the night in his room?

Your throat tightens.

MC sighs, finally pulling back. “I swear, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” Her expression softens, the frustration fading into something quieter. “You okay?”

The concern in her voice makes your chest ache.

You force a small smile. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

MC watches you for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But don’t ever do that again, okay? If something’s wrong, you tell me.”

You nod, though you don’t say anything.

She plops back onto the bed, stretching her arms over her head. “Anyway, we have a long-ass day ahead of us. Let’s get moving before they start filming without us.”

You hum in agreement, pushing yourself up despite the weight still clinging to your limbs.

The moment your feet touch the floor, a faint dizziness creeps in, but you shake it off.

Today is going to be long. You just have to get through it.

MC chatters away as she gets ready, pulling out outfits and rummaging through her bag. She seems to have let go of last night’s worries, and for that, you’re grateful. You don’t have the energy to explain anything right now.

By the time you both leave the room, the sun has fully risen, painting the sky in warm golds and soft blues. The air is fresh, carrying the lingering scent of rain, but the storm from last night feels like a distant memory—like something only you remember.

When you arrive at the set, the atmosphere is already buzzing with energy. Crew members are setting up, actors are going over their lines, and the director is barking out instructions.

MC quickly joins the main cast, slipping into her role with ease, leaving you to find your own place among the side characters.

“Action!”

The day begins.

It’s hectic—far more chaotic than yesterday. Since most of the key scenes are scheduled to be filmed today, there’s barely a moment to breathe between takes.

You go through your role automatically, delivering lines, hitting your marks, going where you’re needed.

And yet, through the commotion, you can feel him.

“Action!”

You can see him in the crowd, practicing and discussing his lines.

You can see him placing his hand on MC’s head, telling her it’s okay she messed up her part.

“Action!”

Every now and then, between takes, you can see the way his eyes land on you, a certain look that you can’t quite place your finger on.

And every now and then, during any short break he can muster, you can see the way he tries to approach you.

But the simple thought of him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Yn—”

You slip away.

“Where were y—”

Someone calls you over before he can finish.

“Why didn’t you pick—”

Another take is called, forcing him back into position.

Every conversation dies before it can even begin, and you make no effort to change that.

You don’t want to face him yet.

You can’t.

“Action!”

Fortunately, the day is kind enough to be relentless, dragging you from scene to scene, making it easier to ignore the weight of his gaze, the questions lingering between you.

But as the hours pass, the sun burns hotter, the air grows heavier, and a dull ache creeps into your skull.

It’s subtle at first, just a faint throbbing behind your eyes.

“Action!”

Your limbs feel heavier, your head foggy, the world tilting ever so slightly.

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus.

It’s nothing. Just exhaustion. Just the heat. Just the fact that you spent last night soaking wet in the cold for hours.

“Action!”

You push through.

A hand reaches for yours.

“Hey—are you oka—“

“I’m fine, Caleb.” You snap, finally turning to face him, snatching your touch away from his.

You look over his shoulder to find MC waving for him.

“MC’s looking for you,” you state, turning away just as quickly.

“You don’t look—“

The set sweeps him away once more.

The heat is unbearable. It sticks to your skin, clings to your lungs, burrows into your skull with a relentless pulse. Every sound around you—voices, instructions, the scuffling of feet on set—blurs into a distant hum.

“Action!”

You should sit down. You should stop.

But you don’t.

You push through, following the motions, forcing your body to move despite the dull, throbbing ache radiating from your temple.

The sun beats down harder.

Your limbs feel heavy. Your vision swims.

Something is wrong.

“Act—“

A sudden shift—the ground tilts beneath you.

The world spirals. Your stomach churns—everything is slipping too fast.

And then—a firm grip catches your wrist.

Through the haze, crimson eyes lock onto yours, sharp and assessing.

You don’t understand how, don’t understand why— but subtly, nearly imperceptibly—the sharpness in his eyes narrows, just slightly.

His grip tightens.

“It’s not called a dance if there’s no one to catch you when you dip,” a teasing smirk crawls up his face.

You narrow your eyes, a frown following closely.

“Let me go,” you demand, pulling your hand from his. To your dismay, he does not budge.

Sylus hums, tilting his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering with amusement.

“Let you go?” He scoffs lightly. “Sweetheart, you nearly face-planted in front of half the set. If it weren’t for me, you’d be eating sand right now.”

A flush of heat creeps up your neck—whether from frustration or fever, you don’t know.

“But it did look like you were throwing yourself into my arms just now…”

Your jaw tightens. “I wasn’t—“

“You were.” He grins, lazy and insufferable, before tapping his temple. “Don’t worry, I’ll be generous and let you blame it on heat exhaustion. But next time, try asking before you faint dramatically into my arms, yeah?”

A scoff pushes past your lips, hot and irritated. “I didn’t—“

He cuts you off again, eyes narrowing in mock thought. “Actually, should I be offended? You didn’t even call my name. Isn’t that what damsels in distress do?”

He shifts his grip to hook an arm securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your knees wobble.

You slap at his arm. “I can stand just fine.“

“Sure.” He drawls the word out, clearly not convinced. “If by ‘just fine’ you mean ‘barely upright and just one second away from proving me right.’”

Your glare sharpens, pushing his body away from you. However, your body betrays you as your knees struggle to find balance, causing you to lean just slightly into his hold.

Sylus smirks.

“You love proving me right, don’t you?”

You groan. “Just let me go, Sylus.”

Before he can answer, another presence looms in.

“Yn.“

The teasing weight of Sylus’s words vanishes in an instant.

You tense.

The air shifts—sharp, tight, suffocating.

Sylus’s smirk doesn’t falter, but the amusement in his eyes dims, replaced with something much more calculating.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Caleb takes a step forward, his expression unreadable—but his tone isn’t.

“Let go.”

A muscle in Sylus’s jaw twitches as his gaze sweeps over Caleb, the amusement curling at his lips deepening.

“That’s funny,” he muses, low and almost thoughtful.

Caleb’s eyes darken. “I said, let go.”

Sylus tilts his head slightly, gaze dipping back to you.

“Mm.” His voice drops lower, amusement flickering at the edges. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

The tension snaps tight between them—like a drawn blade, waiting to be swung.

You exhale sharply, yanking your wrist away from Sylus. Caleb’s presence itself is enough to push you off the edge, adding the tension between the two and your head splitting in half definitely does not help.

“I’m fine. I can walk. You two have scenes to film—go do that instead of hovering over me,” you mutter, your glare shifting between them.

Neither of them move.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Seriously. I just need some rest. Go.”

Sylus studies you for a beat longer, then— with an infuriating smirk, he raises both his hands in a mock display of surrender.

“Whatever you say, kitten.”

He steps back, turning without another word. But, even if you’ve just known him for a few days, you’re well too accustomed to that glint in his eyes. He’s entertained—like he just witnessed something far more amusing than it should be.

You roll your eyes, turning to leave—only to find Caleb following closely behind.

You stop in your tracks.

“Caleb.”

“You’re sick,” he states simply, as if that explains everything.

You let out an exhausted sigh. “I just need a nap. The sun’s too hot. You have a job to do. Go.”

“I’ll take you to your room.”

You groan. “I don’t need you to—“

“Yn.”

Something in the way he says your name—low, quiet, edged with something almost like a puppy left alone—makes your breath hitch.

You swallow, annoyance and fatigue surfacing your expression.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You start walking. Caleb falls into step beside you, silent. The set bustles behind you, voices and movement filling the space. But between you and Caleb, the silence is louder.

The walk back is slow. The ground beneath you feels unsteady, your legs sluggish with exhaustion. The day had been merciless—your body drained from the heat, the lingering weight of last night clawing at your bones.

“I didn’t,” you murmur.

“You almost did.”

You finally reach your door, the cool AC left running inside brushes away a part of your exhaustion.

The door clicks shut behind you. You turn to face him, arms crossed.

“Alright. You walked me back. You can go now.”

Caleb doesn’t move. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, hands shoved into his pockets. “Kicking me out already?” he says with his usual playful tone, a grin plastered on his face.

“Out.”

Caleb sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just—why didn’t you say anything? You looked like you were about to collapse back there.” He slowly approaches you, placing one hand on your forehead and another on his. “You’re burning up.”

A deep frown crawls up your face, annoyance filling your senses. You swat his hand away, taking an unsteady step backwards.

“Get out, Caleb, I want to be alone.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly, taken aback by your response. A soft chuckle slips past his lips—one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave. Right after I tuck you in.”

You let out a sharp breath, exasperated, but too drained to argue. Caleb takes a step closer, reaching for the blanket, but you snatch it before he can.

“Caleb—“

“You didn’t answer my calls.” The shift is almost imperceptible. His voice is steady, but there is an edge to it—like he is holding something back. His jaw is tense, something unreadable flashing behind his violet eyes.

Your breath catches for half a second and you grip on the blanket tightens, but you school your expression. “My phone was dead.”

“Where were you last night?” His voice is still too calm. Too measured.

You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose, exhaustion pressing into your skull. “Caleb—“

“Do you know how long I spent looking for you?” his tone is lighter than it should be, laced with something almost amused—but his eyes, his stance, the slight clench of jaw betray him. “I ran through the rain like a desperate idiot, calling for your name like a lunatic, only for you to act like I don’t exist the next day?”

His voice isn’t desperate. It’s frustrated.

You don’t know what to say to that. Instead, you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head.

“Yeah? That worried? Sure, Caleb. Sure,” you pause. “Do you expect me to be grateful?” sarcasm drips from your words.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” his eyes narrow.

“No? Then what are you saying?” You cross your arms, a bitter laugh slipping past your lips. “Because I remember calling you. I remember my hands shaking so bad I almost dropped my phone. I remember hearing your voice and thinking, ‘finally.’” Your throat tightens. “And then I remember you cutting the line.”

Caleb stares at you, his expression unreadable.

“I was in the middle of god knows where, drenched like a drowning dog, kneeled down on the road next to some fucking dumpster,” you continue, voice shaking despite yourself. “But it wasn’t a great time. You were busy.” A humorless laugh leaves your quivering lips.

His jaws ticks.

“You know how MC is with thunders,” he says, voice quieter now. Almost defensive. “But as soon as she fell asleep— I didn’t think—“

“Exactly.” Your words are barely above a whisper. “You didn’t think. Had you paid a little more attention, you would’ve known I hated the thunder too.”

Something in his face shifts. His breath catches. For the first time since you met him, he looks like he miscalculated.

The silence is thick, suffocating. His gaze lock onto yours, searching—for what you weren’t sure.

Finally, he exhales through his nose, looking away. His hand grips the doorknob, knuckles paling slightly.

His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “I didn’t know.”

A bitter smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

He remains there for a second longer, a shadow of something you can’t quite place flickering behind his eyes. You inhale sharply, steadying yourself, pressing a hand against your temple as a dull ache throbs inside your head.

“I’m very—very—tired,” you continue, voice barely above a breath. “So just… let me rest, Caleb.”

His jaws tightens. He shifts his weight, like he wants to say something—like there’s something sitting heavy on his tongue—but in the end, he exhales through his nose, slow and steady,

His voice, when he finally speaks, is quiet. Strained.

“…Get some rest, then.”

His fingers twitch at his sides. He slowly place his hand on your head, ruffling it softly—the way that has always brought butterflies to your stomach. His violet eyes flicker, scanning you—your unsteady stance, the way you press against your temple, the exhaustion settling deep in your features. Something flashes behind his gaze. But just as quickly, it’s gone.

He takes a step back. Then another.

He tilts his head slightly, studying you one last time—not with amusement, not with his usual lazy charm or playfulness, but with something much quieter. Much heavier.

“Try not to sleep through dinner, shortcake.” His usual grin flickers at the edges, forced, strained, before turning his heel.

Click.

part 4

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cherryredstarz · 3 months ago

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Cherries 🍒

A/n: more nasty Caleb ☺️aka Caleb popping your cherry

Cw: NSFW, fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), a little blood, fluff, aftercare, petnames

Your Grandma was going to be away for the night—out visiting a close friend. Which left Caleb in charge of you at the house. He made your favorite braised chicken wings for dinner, and now you both were fooling around on the couch while watching a Disney movie.

“Caleb!” You giggle, dropping some pink confetti into his hair; you’d just celebrated your eighteenth birthday a couple days before. Caleb shakes his head like a wet dog while grinning. “What? Can’t handle being tickled by your gege?” The nineteen year old pulls you onto his lap and playfully bites at your neck.

You squeal and swat at his chest, before nestling into his warmth. You’re wearing one of his old shirts from highschool—it smells so comforting, like him. Burrowing your face into his neck, you inhale softly. “What’s all that for?” Caleb flicked your nose, albeit gently.

“Ya’ smell good.” You mumble.

“Yeah?” He squishes your cheeks together, like a pufferfish, before pressing a quick peck on your lips. You return to watching the movie, but it isn’t long before you feel a certain someone’s hands wandering down your hips to the bottom of your teeshirt. “What are you doing?” You tilt your head back at him. “Nothing.” He smirks, his fingertips brushing against the dainty lace of your panties.

You nearly gasp when his fingers slip under your panties, and begin to gently circle your clit. “C-Caleb!”

“Shh, Pipsqueak. Let me take care of my girl, yeah?” He mutters against your ear before giving your cheek another soft kiss. You both stay their like that, him leisurely rubbing your poor little bud while you leak into your underwear. Nobody’s ever touched you like this before, and Caleb is playing you like a fiddle.

You mewled and tried not to squirm as a strange, unfamiliar sensation began to fill your belly, and tried to keep your thighs still when they threatened to jerk. Then his hands creep lower, lazily stroking your pussy lips, and gathering all the slick that’s pooled in your slit. “C-Caleb—mph—”

“Caleb’s gonna take care of you.” He nipped at your neck before pushing a finger into you. You whimper and clench at the unfamiliar feeling. “Relax baby. Deep breaths for me.” He lazily pumps his fingers in and out of you. You moan into his neck, your thighs clenching around his hand. “Caleb—m’ tummy feels tight—” you’d never orgasmed before.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay baby.” He coos, and grins as you moan and for the first time, cum around his fingers. “Good girl.” He kisses your nose and gently wiped sweat from your forehead before sticking his wet fingers into your mouth. Whining, your tongue swirls around the digit. You taste…sweet.

Before you know it, you find Caleb had you laying on your back on the couch, and Caleb was tugging off your panties, and pulling down his pajama pants. “C-Caleb—I’ve never done this before..” you whisper, and he just gives you a little kiss. “I’ll take care of you, huh? When has your gege ever steered you wrong?”

Multiple times, you think, but your mind goes blank seeing the size of Caleb’s dick. Huge. “T-That’s not going to fit inside me.” You stammer.

“I’ll make it fit, okay?” He assures you. It takes two tries, but he lines up and gently thrusts inside you. You gasp, whimpering at the sharp pain. He does a few gentle thrusts, and the pain eases to a dull ache and the beginnings of pleasure bubbles in your belly.

“Popped your cherry, huh, pipsqueak?” Caleb’s hands gently massage your breasts. Your eyes flicker to where his were at—a tiny bit of blood on the base of his dick. You whimper, but he hushed you with a kiss. “It’s okay. It’s normal baby.” Caleb begins lazily thrusting—it feels so good.

2 hours later you’ve squirted and cummed more times that you can count, and you’re seeing stars as Caleb pounds your poor, abused hole. “C-Caleb—” you don’t even sound like yourself anymore; just a poor, wanton mess.

“So tight baby..” he moans, leaving another dark hickey on your neck. How are you going to hide these from Grandma?

Caleb moans as he blows another load into you; cum leaking from your weeping pussy. “Such a good girl, huh?” He kisses your cheek before easing out of you. Caleb puts his boxers and sweats back on before disappearing in the bathroom, and returning with a warm wash rag, and fresh pair of panties, and a clean teeshirt of his. Caleb gingerly wipes down your thighs and soaked cunt, and carefully redresses you.

“My girl, huh?” He carries you to bed and snuggled close.

“Love you Caleb..” you babble before passing out.

“I love you too, pipsqueak.”

#fluff #lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x fem reader #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb smut #smut #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deep space

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aleksatia · 4 months ago

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It’s morning. He’s asleep. You wake up in a mischievous mood and decide to surprise him with BJ. Thirty seconds after his orgasm, he…🔥😏

☀️ Xavier

At first, he doesn’t even move. His fingers twitch, his breathing ragged, but his eyes remain closed, his expression frustratingly neutral. Then, suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist before you can move away.

His blue eyes open, sharp, assessing, and for a moment, he just watches you, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly—too slowly—his grip loosens, sliding from your wrist to your jaw.

"That," he murmurs, his voice dangerously low, "was reckless."

His thumb brushes over your lips, studying them like he’s memorizing the way they feel. Then, his gaze flickers up, and something shifts—something dangerous, something dark.

"And now I have no choice," he sighs, rolling onto his side, pinning you beneath him, "but to teach you what happens when you wake me up like that."

☃️ Zayne

His breathing is slow, steady—controlled. For a moment, you think he’s not going to react at all. Then, his fingers twitch against the pillow, his head tilting slightly as he finally exhales.

"You," he mutters, voice still hoarse from sleep, "are going to be the death of me."

His eyes flutter open, piercing and unreadable, but the slight twitch of his lips betrays him—he’s trying not to smirk. He runs a hand through his hair, like he’s analyzing what just happened. Then, finally, he sits up, cracking his neck with a slow roll of his shoulders.

"Alright," he murmurs, reaching for you with cold, steady fingers. "If that’s how you want to start the day…"

His lips brush your temple, deceptively soft. "Then let’s see how long you last when I return the favor."

🧜‍♂️ Rafayel

For a solid five seconds, he just lies there, blinking at the ceiling. Then, his entire body relaxes, and he lets out a deep, satisfied groan, stretching like a cat basking in the sun.

"Oh, my sweet little disaster," he sighs dramatically, turning to pull you against him, his grip lazy but firm. "Are you trying to spoil me first thing in the morning?"

His fingers skim down your spine, his touch light, teasing, and when you try to move, he doesn’t let you go.

"Mmm, no, no, no," he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep as he buries his face in your neck. "It’s your fault I’m in such a good mood now, so you’re staying right here."

His lips brush against your skin, featherlight and playful.

"Besides," he muses, fingers idly tracing your hip, "it’s my turn next, isn’t it?"

🦅 Sylus

His chest rises and falls, his breathing still uneven, but the moment reality catches up, his crimson eyes snap open, locking onto you with something between amusement and sheer hunger.

"Oh, kitten," he exhales, voice still thick and lazy from sleep, but carrying that edge of control you know all too well. He reaches for you—slow, deliberate, like a predator closing in.

His fingers slide into your hair, tilting your chin up as he smirks, still catching his breath.

"You really are a menace first thing in the morning, aren’t you?" His thumb drags lazily across your lower lip, his gaze dark and heavy.

"You better hope you don’t have plans today, because I’m about to enjoy ruining you completely."

He flips you onto your back in one fluid motion, his smirk widening as he hovers over you.

"And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon."

🍎 Caleb

He shudders, his grip on the sheets tightening, his muscles still tense from the high. For a moment, he just stares at the ceiling, blinking as if his brain hasn’t fully processed what just happened. Then, suddenly—his arm shoots out, yanking you into his chest so fast you let out a startled gasp.

His breathing is still rough, his forehead pressing against yours as he grits his teeth, eyes squeezing shut like he’s struggling to hold himself together.

"You can’t—" His voice is wrecked, desperate, almost pleading.

"You can’t just do that and expect me to—"

He exhales sharply, his grip on you almost possessive, his fingers digging into your waist. Then, his lips brush your ear, voice dangerously low.

"You have no idea what you just did to me. And now, you’d better be ready to deal with the consequences."

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meinii · 4 months ago

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“I need a kiss”

summary: how I think the lads boys would act when they’re needy for a kiss! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

content: fluff

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

Sylus

Sylus isn’t the type to ask for affection outright—no, he demands it. when he’s feeling needy for a kiss, he doesn’t bother with words. instead, he corners you, trapping you against whatever surface is closest, his crimson eyes dark with intent. he tilts your chin up with two fingers, his lips already curling into that smug, knowing smirk

“don’t play coy,” he murmurs, voice smooth as silk “you know exactly what I want”

he’ll tease you at first, brushing his lips over yours, letting his breath ghost over your skin, but never fully closing the distance. he loves to watch you squirm, to see you grow desperate before he finally gives in, kissing you slow, deep, and intoxicating. one kiss is never enough for him—he’s greedy, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he could devour you whole. even after you part, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, thumb tracing over your lips, as if contemplating whether to steal another

“hm… still not enough,” he mutters “but I’ll be merciful. for now.”

he makes sure you’re breathless, dazed, and completely under his spell before he finally lets you go. and if you ever try to deny him, well… you’ll only make him more determined to get what he wants

Zayne

Zayne won’t outright say he wants a kiss, but his actions speak for themselves. he lingers near you more than usual, brushing his fingers against yours, standing just a little too close when you’re doing something mundane, like reading or cooking. if you don’t take the hint, he’ll grow more obvious—sighing dramatically as he sits beside you, arms crossed, a faint pout on his lips

“you’re ignoring me,” he states plainly, adjusting his glasses “very cruel of you.”

and if you still don’t catch on? he gets petty. he’ll tug on your sleeve like a child, or even steal whatever you’re holding just to make you look at him. the moment you finally give in and lean in to kiss him, he meets you halfway, a quiet but satisfied hum escaping him as your lips press together

his kisses are soft and slow, drawn out as if he’s savoring the moment. his hands instinctively cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing absent patterns against your skin. and when you pull away, he keeps you there, pressing one last lingering kiss to the corner of your lips before murmuring

“there, much better. don’t make me wait next time”

Caleb

Caleb is shameless when he’s needy for a kiss. he has no problem following you around, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, and resting his chin on your shoulder. his voice takes on that playful, teasing tone, but there’s a clear edge of longing beneath it

“honey,” he drawls “I think you forgot something”

if you ask what, he’ll just pout, giving you the most exaggerated, pitiful look he can muster

and if you still don’t get the hint? he’ll lean in, whispering against your ear

“you forgot to kiss me.”

the moment you indulge him, he melts. his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, making sure you feel every ounce of his affection. he’s warm, steady, and utterly devoted, tilting his head to deepen the connection, as if trying to make the moment last forever

and after? he grins, rubbing his nose against yours before stealing another quick kiss

“mm… think I need a few more just to be sure”

Rafayel

Rafayel is dramatic when he’s needy for a kiss. He sighs loudly, throwing himself onto the nearest couch or bed, acting as if he’s on the verge of death

“I am starving,” he groans, clutching his chest “but not for food. no, I am wasting away, neglected, unloved—”

you don’t even have to say anything. just rolling your eyes is enough to make him crack a grin, but he keeps up the act until you finally lean in and kiss him

the second your lips touch his, he immediately wraps his arms around you, trapping you in place. his kisses are intense, passionate, like he’s trying to pour every bit of his emotions into them. his fingers tangle in your hair, and he refuses to let you pull away too soon

“ahh, finally,” he breathes against your lips, smiling as he kisses you again, this time softer “but I think I need just a few more to fully recover.”

hood luck getting away now

Xavier

Xavier doesn’t always understand social cues, but when he’s needy for a kiss, it’s obvious. he follows you around like a lost puppy, his usual neutral expression softened by the smallest, almost imperceptible pout. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stands close—too close—until you finally turn to look at him

“… I require something,” he finally says, tilting his head

if you ask what, he just stares at you, waiting.

and when you still don’t get it, he reaches up and gently taps his lips with his finger

the moment you lean in and kiss him, his entire expression changes. his hands immediately cup your face, his touch delicate but firm, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. his kisses are slow, reverent—he kisses you like you’re something sacred

even after you part, he stays close, his forehead resting against yours.

“… better,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your cheek. “but I think I need more data. let’s try again”

and with that, he steals another kiss

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heartyluv · 19 days ago

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caleb loves your pussy. he loves absolutely everything about it. the way it looks, feels, smells—everything.

i firmly believe it’s a nighttime ritual where you’ll both get in bed naked and he plays with your sweet cunt until you fall asleep. and he doesn’t want you to touch him. no, this is for you.

let me set the scene: your bedroom is dark and you face each other. you’ve memorized one another’s face so many times that you don’t need a light to know what’s in front of you. your leg is hiked over and around caleb’s and if you press a little too close, you’ll feel his hard cock slide right in between your soft pussy lips.

now, caleb always likes to cup you in his large hand to get a feel, to just embrace that warmth. his gentle grip shows his ownership and love with how he mixes that strength and adoration he portrays so well.

you’re a little wet—not too much, but he’ll get you there. he takes that little bit of slick you have to start rubbing on your clit slowly until your cunt is drooling on his slender digits. your soft mewls and grunts doesn’t make him go faster, either. he keeps that snail like pace because he knows it feels so much better when you come like this.

you’ll start kissing, breathing deeply into his mouth. you’re so sleepy, but so close.

“i love making you feel good. you sound so pretty like this,” he’ll whisper to you as you bury your face in his neck, calling for him like he’s still so far away. your hand will slide into his hair to grip it, just so you can cling to him. you want him so deeply that you fear there will never be an instance where he’s deep or close enough. “i got you, pretty. ‘m right here..fall asleep for me.”

soon you’ll come, your body jerking from the pleasure he edged out of you so tenderly. you don’t know it because your body peacefully surrendered to blissful sleep, but he’ll take your juices, gather as much as he can on his fingers, and bring it to his cock to start jerking off quietly. it doesn’t take him long either—ten strokes, tops. he shivers as he spills his load haphazardly onto your cunt.

it’s hot—thick. and it drips from where it landed originally, making a small pool on your thigh. he’ll kiss your forehead then your lips before reaching over to grab the cloth on his nightstand that he had prepared to clean you both.

and to conclude the night right, he’ll pull your leg tighter around him as he gets close again and grabs his semi-hard cock to start easing it inside of you. you gently stir, a breathy moan escaping past your pouty lips.

he makes sure you’re both under the covers comfortably before falling asleep with him inside your pussy to stay nice and snug while he keeps you full.

A/N: creds to @/anitalenia for the banner!

(i was so tired and freaked out that i forgot. forgive me LOLL) tags 🏷️: @innergardentoadpony @teacupwaifu @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @ajyoursgirl @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @asiatic-apple @callads7 @caien @stargirlygirl @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @floatinginaer @meadowinthesky @floatinginaer @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini

#it’s actually throbbing #i always think the nastiest things of caleb before i fall asleep #isn’t this so sweet 🥹#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deespace smut #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb smut

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bizarrelovetriangel · 3 months ago

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feeling you.

X-02!caleb teaches A-01!reader a special way to show affection to the one person you love.

includes spoilers from decoherence. occurs at the end of farewell intimacy. part two of this fic but you don't need to read it.

mdni. 18+ only. dry humping. creampie. it's both of their first time but reader is innocent while caleb... knows enough.

"For people who share a close bond, a kiss on any part of their body can be seen as a sign of affection."

Caleb stands in front of you as you sit on the bed. His body is blocking the setting sun from the window of the room that you're temporarily using as a hideout in Lingshir.

"Your eyes."

A soft kiss lands on each of your eyelids.

"Your cheeks."

He pecks your left cheek, then your right.

"And then..."

His lips brushed against yours just like a feather that grazed you on its way down. Soft and brief.

It was followed by another kiss on the same place, but packed with little more pressure. Another soundful one came after, heavier than the previous ones. He continued to push and pull his lips from yours, taking moments to pause before diving back in stronger and more passionate than before.

"Do you....want to learn more?"

"Show me, Caleb."

He cupped your face with his hands while resting his forehead against yours.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The intensity of his kisses grew, yet he remained gentle. He lightly tilted your head back before sliding his tongue between your lips to explore your mouth. Caleb hums with content as your tongue and lips slowly started to replicate his movements.

He took a step towards the bed before his hands urged you to rest your back against the mattress. After you did as he instructed, Caleb hovers on top of you with his knees planted on the side of your legs.

He leaned his face down and took a moment to admire your features. In return, you observed the way his eyes had flashed with certain emotions that you were unfamiliar with.

"I've always wanted to be this close to you." He whispers, slowly closing the distance between your bodies. "I've always wanted to hold you and feel you."

You reached up a hand to caress Caleb's cheeks just like what he had done to you earlier, but the hard exoskeleton prevented you from feeling the warmth and softness of his skin.

Seeing the frown on your face as you looked at your own hands, Caleb was quick to read your mind.

"You want to take it off?"

You nodded. "I want to feel you too."

His eyes widened at your response, though he quickly dismissed his stuttering heart and proceeded to take off your armor.

Caleb has somehow figured out how to remove his exoskeleton without damaging his system. That's why he was able to touch you without his armor in the way.

Unlike his exoskeleton that covered most of his body like a shell, yours are more like accessories that are easier to be removed.

Nonetheless, it still requires caution, as the thin wires attaching it down to your body can cause pain if mishandled.

Caleb carefully took off the exoskeleton on your hands, arms, shoulders, chest, and legs, leaving you in the skin-tight bodysuit just like the one he's wearing.

"Feel better?"

You nodded, moving your hands and arms around, enjoying how light it feels without anything weighing it down.

If only you could live without ever wearing the exoskeleton ever again.

If only you didn't need it to stay alive, you'd destroy it and throw it away so it's gone forever.

If only your body had been one of a real human rather than an android, a weapon created in a laboratory.

You're not so fortunate.

But with Caleb next to you, it didn't matter.

With him, you feel like everything is going to be okay.

You'll have to wear the armor again, but you'll gladly take whatever time you're able to buy just so you can feel his warmth.

"Caleb..."

You softly put your hands on his neck, similar to the way he'd do to you before pulling you close.

He closed his eyes to fully take in the feeling of your fingers grazing against him. Even though his body is still covered with the bodysuit, it's thin enough for him to appreciate your touch.

For a moment, the two of you stayed still while cherishing each other's presence.

You've escaped from the laboratory and you're heading your way to the edges of Deepspace for a new life together.

You look forward to the days when you can go anywhere with Caleb, without needing to hide and fight. You long for the days when you can hold each other without worrying if tomorrow will be your last. You're ready for a future with Caleb.

Similar thoughts are running through his head. You've finally made it out of the place that turned you into weapons and kept you locked up for all your lives. You're so close to freedom.

He won't have to keep fantasizing about doing things with you.

Soon, Caleb will be able to take you to places you've never been, feed you fruits you've never tasted, and make you feel emotions you've never experienced.

Soon, it will just be you and him.

Forever.

"Caleb."

He snapped out of his daysdream. "Hmm?"

"Kiss me again."

He lets out a sharp breath as a familiar, special kind of heat took over his body. The way you were looking at him, with your hands locked behind his neck and body relaxed underneath him, Caleb felt a tightness between his thighs.

"Okay."

This time, his kisses were slow.

He took his time, enjoying how soft you feel and how sweet you taste. His hands wandered down to your waist before caressing your stomach.

"Caleb..."

He froze and pulled away from you. "What's wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?"

You shook your head. "I'm not hurt, but..." you took a second to exhale as your face heats up. "I feel...weird.... it's hot, everwhere.... and my heart is beating so fast..."

Caleb caught you pressing your thighs together and knew exactly what you were feeling.

He's become familiar with it.

Everytime he thought about touching you, he'd get that very feeling. It's a special kind of heat that tends to overtake the control of your own body. But most of all, it's the special kind of heat that feels good.

After learning more about sexual reproduction and human behavior, Caleb discovered eventually that it's known as lust.

The need to become one with someone.

"It's okay." He kissed your forehead before putting a hand on your left leg. "It's what happens when you want to.... be closer to a special someone."

"Closer?"

He whispered against your ear, "The closest you can ever be. Every part of your body connected, your heartbeats in synch, and your souls... become one."

You quietly gasped as Caleb's left hand slowly hiked up your thighs, closer to the spot that was throbbing uncomfortably underneath your bodysuit.

"Is that what you want?"

"Y-yes..." You gulped and spoke again to make your voice more clear. Your hands itched to touch it, but he was already so close to it, ready to do it for you. "I do want it, please."

He kissed you under your ear. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

His fingers slid up to your core and your body arched at the surprising wave of exhilarating sensation that struck your insides.

Caleb waited a moment, giving you some time to stop him if you wanted to, though you showed no signs of it so he continued with light strokes of his fingers.

During the first time he'd touched himself, it was just like this, too. Slow and careful, so that your body knows there is no danger - there is only pleasure.

Your half-lidded eyes and parted lips made his cock hard.

He had only ever thought about doing this with you, but having you there, right under him, is a whole different feeling. The way your lips tasted and the softness of your body is even better than what he had been imagining.

He wants more.

He needs to feel you more.

Closer.

He retracted his hand from your thighs, only so he can start grinding his hips against yours. A moan falls out of his lips as soon as the bulge between his thighs met your clothed core.

It was so, so good.

He wanted to move faster, but he also wanted to be patient with you, and so he forced himself to take a slow pace.

His cock was getting harder and bigger, threatening to break through his bodysuit. Its tip had spat out pre-cum from his arousal, and it was becoming difficult to control his movements.

His thrusts had gotten stronger, and his fingers had locked against yours as he pinned your hands against the mattress, which started to shake and creak at his movements.

"So good..." He murmured. "...need more...."

"More..." you agreed, raising your hips up slightly to meet his, just as hungry for friction. "How...."

After stopping his thrusts, Caleb's hands went to the sides of your chest and his thumbs grazed over your breasts through your bodysuit.

"We could... take this off, but..." He looked hesitant.

"But...?"

"Will you be comfortable without it? I've hardly taken my bodysuit off - only during repairs and experiments. I don't mind taking mine off, but I know you've gone through the same things that I have, and worse. If you're not comfortable without it, I won't ask you to remove it. You don't have to. We can still - "

"I want to."

Caleb looked at you in the eyes to search for any signs of hesitation or worry, but he found none.

"I want to be closer to you, Caleb."

The way you say his name makes him want to fall to his knees.

"Me too." He took your left hand and kissed the back of it. "For so long, I wanted to do this with you." He gave another peck. "I want to feel your warmth, your heartbeat... everything..."

During his time at the lab, Caleb learned how to properly remove the exoskeleton and bodysuit that's protecting your human-like bodies. He needed to see how they can be removed without hurting you or doing any damage to your body.

And so, Caleb carefully stripped off your bodysuit, in the same way that the researchers have always done.

Ripping out hastily will break the thread-like wires that are connected to your skin, and it will hurt you. If removed properly, the wires will simply come off and reattach to you once you wear it again.

Once the black bodysuit is off, Caleb couldn't help but reward himself by gazing at your body, admiring every inch of it.

Your body is scarred from all the experiments they'd done to you. It's even more than his own collection of them.

Anger rose within him as he recalled the times he'd seen the researchers hurting you, but Caleb shoved it away for now.

Revenge will come later.

Right now, he wants to hold you the way you should be held.

Even with the scars, you're still beautiful.

He'll do everything in his power to preserve you and give you the best things in the world.

And if you say that you want him, then he'll give all of himself to you.

Once Caleb's bodysuit had come off, he returned both of you in your previous positions: your back against the mattress and him on top of you.

Now that his cock is free, it hasn't stopped twitching and leaking, especially as it moves close to your core.

This will be the first time that Caleb will have sex, and he only knows what he'd read from books and seen on videos upon learning about human behavior, so he's not even sure if he's doing things correctly.

He's only doing what feels right - what his own body is telling him to do.

You, on the other hand, lacked nervousness in your eyes. Even though you've never done anything intimate before, as long as it's with Caleb, you're not worried about anything.

One flash of reassuring smile from you was all it took for him to close all the space between your bodies.

His lips had once again found yours, and his hips rutted against your own. His cock briefly and lightly made contact with your cunt, and the two of you simultaneously hissed at the ecstatic feeling.

Caleb took a deep breath before slowly inserting his cock inside you.

You winced at the stinging feeling. It's as if something is ripping and stretching as he eases himself deep into you.

"I'm sorry." Caleb held your hands tighter. "The pain will stop soon, I promise. I'll make you feel good."

He moved little by little, allowing your walls to adjust to him. Caleb was using all his strength to resist any sudden movements, though the way you're clenching around his cock made it such a tough challenge.

Once your thumb brushed against the back of his hand, Caleb studied your face and saw no signs of pain.

He started to thrust slightly.

"Ahhh..." Caleb twitched while partly inside you, unable to contain his excitement from the way you felt around him.

He gradually picked up the pace and went deeper, causing you to gasp loudly. Your eyes are fixated on the way his hips moved, the way his abs clenched, and the way his chest heaved.

His mouth is open, letting out noises that you'd sometimes hear from his room next to yours. His eyes are focused on your face. Your erotic expressions are encouraging him to thrust harder and deeper.

You could feel him hitting the deepest part of you, a place that no one has ever touched. That place is for Caleb and Caleb alone.

You've become one.

And it's one of the best things you've ever felt.

Along with the first time that Caleb had kissed you, the first time he held you, and the first time he had brought you out of the laboratory to see the outside world.

Calming, encouraging, bright.

Your Caleb.

His name comes out of your lips just as you felt your insides twisting and tigtening up.

"Caleb... I feel.... I feel like... I'm going to explode...." You were a little lightheaded and out of breath, but you didn't want the feeling to stop.

"It's okay. Let it out. Don't hold back, just let your body do what it needs to."

And that was when you reached your climax, spilling out your juices while his cock is still thrusting into you.

Caleb grunts eratically at his own release that closely followed yours. Unable to stop his hips and pull out of you, he ended up coming inside you.

The sight of his cum leaking out of your hole drove him insane. He remained inside you for a little longer, memorizing how you feel so that he won't ever forget it.

He gave you one last kiss on the lips before pulling out of you and collapsing against the mattress right next to you. Both of you are breathing heavily, sweating from all the movements.

"When we reach our paradise," he whispers before finding your hand and nuzzling his face against it. "every day will be just like this."

#love and deepspace #caleb #caleb x reader #caleb smut #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads #lads caleb #caleb lads #lynnsfics #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #lnds #lnds caleb

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unintentionalseductress · 5 months ago

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Caleb and Praise 🫦

♥ "That's my sweet girl," Caleb will coo as you curl up to him on the bed without invitation. "Want to be close to me huh?" His fingers will stroke your hair as you bury your nose into his chest, filing his body with warmth.

♥ "Look at how sweet you're being," he'll purr into your ear as he softly palms your breasts, pulling and tweaking those hard nipples as your cute little whimpers fill the room.

♥ "What an obedient little mouse you are." Caleb's fingers are rubbing your swollen clit through your soaked panties. Your thighs quiver but you keep them open knowing it pleases him. He slips the gusset to the side and continues to circle the throbbing nub as you gasp and writhe under his pleasurable touch.

♥ "You sound so cute when you moan like that," Caleb whispers as he sinks two of his fingers into your slick pussy. Knuckles deep and covered in your sweet nectar, he makes smooth motions on that patch of nerves inside while keeping up his pace on your clit while you sing so sweetly for him, your muscles taut and begging for release.

♥ "I know. It's ok. That was a lot I know. But you did so well baby girl." He strokes you through orgasm as your whole body trembles from the sweet climax he's given you, as his arm holds you tightly against him. He kisses your forehead, eyes soft with satisfaction as he looks at your vulnerable state.

♥ "That's it. My good girl. Taking me so well. Pussy clenching and milking this cock. It's all yours pretty baby." Caleb growls as he buries his shaft deep inside you, hips rocking against yours as his meat pistons in and out of your wet hole. Your body knows no resistance when it comes to him, and you're noisily letting your pleasure echo through the room as his cock fucks into you so deliciously, stretching you out in ways you hadn't felt before.

♥ "You're mine, my precious little one." Caleb snuggles your exhausted body on his chest, peppering your face with kisses. "You did so well my sweet doll."

#ncs #caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lnds #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #caleb x reader #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lnds x reader smut #ncs scribbles

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monocaelia · 18 days ago

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apricity.

even if the sunlight filtering in through the window is warm, nothing beats the comforting embrace of your lover beside you; aka, mornings with the love interests. feat. caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne. genre : fluff note : can you tell what i desperately want to do with all of them lol anyways… waking up to a handsome and pretty boy what a dream.

❀ CALEB

the morning sun is barely peeking through the closed curtains of the bedroom you lay in. you can hear the faint chirping of birds as they too begin to rise from their slumber and begin their day. it’s cold in the room, a nice contrast from the warmth and comfort of the duvet you’re curled up in. the scent of fruit mixed with a masculine perfume fills your senses as you bury your head further into the blanket as you try to get back into the lull of sleep. you’ve had a long night, and with the promotional banquet lasting for so long, being awake at this hour was criminal.

but with the lack of another body in the bed to comfort you back to sleep, sleep slowly slips away from you and the ceiling is all you can focus on. with a heavy sigh, your body slowly slides off of the plush mattress and you begin your sluggish trek out of your lover’s bedroom in search of him.

the smell of breakfast is what attracts your attention as you enter the kitchen of caleb’s home. as you turn your head to the stove, the man of the hour is standing in front of it. there’s a pink frilly apron tied around his waist and from behind you could tell that his hair is a mess. honestly, this man’s sleeping habits haven’t changed a bit seeing how horrible his bed hair remained from the time you were both young. you feel a smile grow on your lips, heart warming at the sight of his familiar bed hair.

until caleb turns around and reveals the mess of yesterday on him.

along with the mess of hair on top of his head, lipstick marks are covering your lover nearly from head to toe as if some crazed lover attacked him last night. there were marks all over his face, his neck, even down his shoulders possibly, and his lips were smeared in the pigment that you’re well acquainted with. however, despite the mess on his skin, eyes of amethyst shine brightly seeing you stand in the kitchen doorway and his lips pull up into that boyish grin tat you’ve grown to love through all these years.

if anything, caleb looks like he’s proud wearing your lipstick all over his skin.

“good morning, shortstack! did you sleep well?” caleb asks with a wide grin. his eyes follow you as you make your way to him to get a closer look at the mess of hair and lipstick on his head. you feel his lips press onto your forehead as you get close enough to the taller air pilot.

“i think so,” you begin as you peer over the stove to peek at the breakfast he was preparing. “more importantly, did you sleep well? why didn’t you stop me?” you ask him. it’s clear you’re referencing the mess you’ve made of him, but caleb only gives you a pleased smile in response.

“i enjoyed the attention,” caleb says as he flips the sizzling omelette in the frying pan. “besides, it’s not everyday you come home so eager to shower me in affection.”

you sigh in response to your lover’s words. your hands raise up to hopefully flatten a strand of caleb’s hair that tries to defy the laws of gravity by sticking up and out of his head. as if reading your mind, caleb squats down just enough for your hands to reach where they need to and enjoying your touch in the process.

“you’re a mess, you know?” you murmur softly as your fingers stray from his hair and onto the skin of his cheek. your heart melts seeing your lover lean into your touch. but, before you could fully pull away from him caleb’s hand reaches for your own. his hand is much larger than yours, palm calloused and rough from years of training in the deepspace aviation administration, and pulls you closer to him. you hear the faint click of the stove turning off before you’re met face to face with the playful man in front of you.

“if you’re so bothered by it, why don’t i pay you back tenfold for what you did to me, pipsqueak?”

your lover ignores your pleas as he leans forward, pressing his lips all over your face and covering as much skin as he possibly could. your giggles echo in the kitchen as you beg for caleb to release you from this prison, but he’s much stronger than you and he’s relentless in his punishment to you. despite his body being rugged and big, suited for being the colonel of the farspace fleet, he holds you firmly against him but never enough to harm you. your lover lands a final, sloppy kiss on your cheek, releasing the kiss with an obnoxiously loud smooch as your laughter quietly dies down from his onslaught of affectionate attacks.

lavender eyes gaze into yours, taking in every inch of your face that he loves so much as the morning sun continues to fill his home with warmth. but nothing could ever compare to the love and warmth that caleb shares with you as he leans down once more to press his lips onto yours in a gentle kiss filled with nothing but the deep affection and adoration held for only you.

❀ RAFAYEL

the gentle warmth of the sun is beginning to rise over the horizon, showering the glistening waves in a golden hue. the crisp morning air flows through the cracked windows of your lover’s home and causes you to retreat deeper into the plush duvet of rafayel’s bed. the ocean air is cool and your body seeks the comfort and safety of the blanket wrapped around you. as the chill begins to seep through the cracks of the blanket and rouse you from your slumber, you feel the dip of the bed of another body joining you. your eyes crack open slightly and catch a blurry purple blob pull back the covers and a familiar warmth encase you.

the familiar scent of the sea breeze and clean laundry brings a sense of comfort to you and you automatically wrap your arms around your lover as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. it seems he stayed up a tad too late on his artistic endeavors and is only now going to bed just as the day is beginning. your fingers play with the ends of rafayel’s purple hair, twirling them around your finger as you gently massage his scalp.

“g’morning,” you mumble out sleepily. rafayel doesn’t say anything and responds with his nose nuzzling the side of your neck. you sigh sleepily and pull away from your lover for a brief moment to look at him.

through your half-asleep daze, you could see your purple haired lover looking at you with his beautiful azure-pink eyes. his gaze is as fiery as his evol, filled with passion and so many emotions that sometimes it's hard to read just exactly what he's thinking. as if on instinct, your hand finds its way to the side of rafayel's face and cups his jaw. your thumb rubs gently across his cheek and your heart flutters as the artist leans into your touch. soft, pillowy lips gently press against the sensitive skin of your palm, but his eyes never leave yours.

"go back to sleep, cutie. don't wake up so early because of me," rafayel whispers against your skin. his hand encases your own and he buries his face into your palm, indulging himself in the warmth and familiarity of your skin on his. he presses another kiss this time on your inner wrist before shifting so that he's eye to eye with you.

you can see the dark eye-bags beginning to form underneath your lover's eyes and your thumb gently caresses the skin.

"shouldn't i be telling you to sleep more?" you murmur as your eyes rake over his face. it's impossible to hide the furrow in your brow as you examine every inch of your lover's face for other signs of fatigue. "you know your life shortens when you sleep less, and you already get little to no sleep."

rafayel pauses slightly at your words before chuckling softly. the purple haired lemurian wraps his arms around your body, pulling you closer into his embrace and closer to the eyes that have captivated you. he rests his forehead on yours, his warmth melting the coolness of the air around you as he encases you with nothing but the comfort of his body.

"there's nothing in the world that could take me from you, my beautiful love," rafayel whispers to you. he presses a simple, yet loving kiss to the top of your head before looking at you once more. there's a loving smile blooming on his rosy lips and an even more loving expression in his eyes as he affectionately brushes the skin of your cheek with his finger. "don't worry, for i'm yours to have. and i'm here resting with you now."

your lover's eyes show nothing but sincerity as he leans down to press the gentlest of kisses to you, your lips moving immediately to his act of love. despite the kiss being short, there was no hiding his deep adoration for you and the promise he'll keep of being by your side until the end of time. your hearts beat as one as the sound of the sea and the solace of each other's embrace quietly lulls the two of you back to sleep.

❀ SYLUS

dawn has not even broken through the horizon yet when you begin to stir from your sleep. even though exhaustion seeps through every single bone of your body, the quiet shuffling of clothes and the faint click of the door closing into place is enough to alert you that you’re no longer alone in the safety of your lover;s bedroom. although your eyesight is a blurred mess from waking up from your sleep, you know that whoever is in the room as of now is not a threat. if anything, you’re well aware of just who is in this room.

not that any person who poses as an actual threat to you would ever dare try to break into onychinus’ headquarters, let alone think about harming their leader’s one and only.

“good morning, kitten,” sylus’ voice is a calm whisper beside your ear, finger gently brushing away the hair that has fallen over your face. you can hear his deep chuckle, most likely at whatever expression you have in your half-asleep state, and shortly after his lips press against your forehead. “i didn’t mean to wake you up, dear. you should go back to sleep.”

your vision begins to clear as sleep is gradually blinked away from your eyes. your tall, silver haired lover is hovering above you with a soft smile; unbefitting of the leader of onychinus but absolutely expected as the one you hold closest to your heart. he looks haggard; eye bags heavy and dark underneath his beautiful ruby eyes. sylus must be exhausted having to work all through the night, but he tries to never show it in front of you even though you can always tell.

your hand reaches up to cup his jaw and, like a dragon obeying his beloved other half, obediently leans into your touch. the night must have been cool for his skin to be colder than your touch, or maybe it’s because you’ve been comfortably curled up in the thick duvet covering his bed. sylus sighs with closed eyes and only opens them once he’s satiated with your touch.

a calloused hand encases the hand over his jaw and ruby eyes stare directly into your own.

“i can’t. i have to get ready for work, anyways,” you murmur back to your lover. sylus frowns at your words. a finger gently pushes you forehead down when you try to sit up.

“and walk in with those eyebags? kitten, the organization would think you’re a wanderer if you walk in looking like that,” sylus quickly quips back at you. at his words, you send him a glare; of course, instead of being sweet to you in the morning and making sure you slept great your boyfriend decides to humble you. but… would he be sylus without a remark full of sass?

“stay in a while longer, it’s not like you’ll be reprimanded for coming in late this once,” sylus tells you with a playful smile. “besides, it’s not like you’re the only person coming in late all the time because they’re busy sleeping.” you roll your eyes at his dig at your coworker. your lover traces his finger across your cheek and behind your ear, his large hand sending your skin ablaze with every inch that he touches. but you find comfort in his touch and your body yearns for the comfort and safety of his arms.

“oh, alright. but go shower first, you smell like sweat and blood and i don’t want that to cling to me,” you give in with a heavy sigh. sylus chuckles at your request and leans down once more to kiss you; despite his rugged appearance, his lips are always soft to the touch. each movement against you is filled with so much passion and love, almost as if his body has been yearning for you for a thousand years. as you begin to pull away, you could feel sylus take a breath before eagerly chasing after you to kiss you again and again.

after being fully satiated with the kisses and love received from you, sylus pulls away, teeth gently pulling your bottom lip in a playful manner before letting go and leaving you behind to patiently wait for the return of his warm embrace until the sun begins to filter in through the dark curtains of his bedroom window.

❀ XAVIER

it is way past sunrise by the time you’ve gain consciousness in your own apartment. the morning light shines into your bedroom, the rays of pure sunshine peeking through the curtains of your bedroom window and filling the room with nothing but the warmth of the sun. the morning songbirds sing their songs through the sky and the bustling of the city in the distance is comforting in a way.

though, not as comforting as the weight of the body lying on top of yours. or rather, not as comforting and not as heavy. the sleeping hunter snoozing away on your chest is in a deep sleep; his breaths are quiet and even as his head rests comfortably on your chest. the golden rays of sun make his blond hair glisten and shine even brighter than he normally is. from the angle he’s at, you cannot see his face, but you’re assured that he’s peaceful in the comfort of your warmth. and your chest.

as much as you would like to stay in bed all morning, you know staying in longer than necessary would cause your body to be sluggish for the rest of the day. and so you begin to shuffle out of bed being careful not to awaken the slumbering prince on top of your body. however, your plan quickly fails as the lack of warmth underneath his body is enough to awaken him.

“mmm… morning,” xavier mumbles sleepily, his voice groggy with drowsiness dripping from his voice. the blond hunter mumbles something incoherent to you before he nuzzles his face into your chest then rests his chin on your body to look at you. his beautiful pale cerulean eyes are half lidded as he gazes up at you. in this light and in this moment, you have to admit how utterly cute and charming he looks. you’re tempted to close your eyes and go back to sleep with him, but you know your body will regret it in the long run.

“morning, sleepyhead,” you whisper to your lover. your hand comes up to brush away the blond strands cover his face. as if on instinct, xavier leans into your touch, leaning into it and remaining unmoved to bask in being in your palm. for a hunter who killed 70,000 wanderers, seeing him become so supple and obedient at your simple touch melts your heart. his blue eyes, akin to the sky, stare into your eyes, never wandering far from your face as the both of you begin to pull away from the intoxicating arms of sleep.

“don’t you want to sleep a bit more? you can; i’m just going to get ready for the day,” you murmur to xavier. your thumb rubs gently across your lover’s cheek, admiring how smooth his skin is despite his job as a hunter. he closes his eyes for a mere moment and takes in the feeling of your finger rubbing across his skin.

“as much as i love sleeping,” xavier begins, pressing his lips against your palm, “i’d rather spend our day off awake and with you.”

his eyes are twinkling as if stars were caught up in the vast sky that is his eyes and you feel your own heart skip a beat at the sincerity of his words as he smiles up at you. you sigh as your hand slowly slides up his cheek and-

“hey…!” your lover exclaims softly as your fingers gently squeeze his cheek, tugging his skin and shaking his head back and forth. your brows furrow as you shake him, annoyed at how cute he can be so early in the morning.

“that’s what you get for being so charming this morning,” you say as you pull your hands away. xavier looks up at you, eyes wide and his bottom lip jutting out just enough to get the perfect pout. but his little act doesn’t last for long as the blond hunter sits up and hovers over your body on the bed. his hands rest beside your head as he leans down so you’re eye to eye with him. there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he smiles down at you.

“then, starlight, do i get to punish you for being so cute, too?” xavier asks. pale blue eyes glance down at your lips, a signal that you know far too well.

your arms reach up to wrap around your lover’s neck, pulling him down as he eagerly leans forward to capture your own lips in his. his kiss is gentle, nothing short of loving and affectionate. but you could feel his eagerness for you, the heat rising with each movement of his lips on yours. your hands gently push against xavier’s chest before anything could go any further.

you almost laugh out loud seeing his pout as he obeys your wishes; his expression gives away all of his wants and needs to you and you can’t help but find him endearing. you reach up to lean up to quickly peck the corner of his lips, but your lover moves faster and, with a quick turn of his head, he’s kissing you again. the morning is warm and filled with sunshine as xavier showers you with affection he has been withholding this morning. but no sunlight could ever compare to the star holding you within his loving embrace.

❀ ZAYNE

the quiet buzzing and ruffling of the bedsheets is all you can hear before your body begins to rouse from your deep slumber. although your eyes haven’t completely opened yet, you recognize the blurry, dark blob beside you as his long arms reach over the nightstand to turn off the alarm. the comfort of his embrace is enough to lull you back to sleep, but you’re well aware that the warmth that you two share is fleeting as the day begins and the dreaded hours of work begin for the both of you.

unfortunately for you, the sun has yet to rise and the darkness is enough to truly drag you back into the depths of sleep, but you begin to truly wake up as zayne’s arms pull away from your body.

“mn…” you mumble as words try to form in your bedridden state. your arm drowsily reaches forward, clinging onto the body beside you and preventing him from immediately leaving your side.

you can hear his soft chuckle at your antics and a rough hand touching the side of your face; he’s cold to the touch, but you don’t mind it at all. it’s a beautiful contrast compared to the warmth hidden underneath the blankets you share. you pull zayne closer to you in hopes of enticing the poor heart surgeon into staying with you for just a bit longer; not that you don’t want him to go to work but because it’s just so comfortable being here with him. you hum in content feeling your lover’s stubble poking at your neck, an unusual feeling but one you welcome as it’s zayne’s body on your skin.

“good morning, beloved,” zayne whispers to you in a quiet voice. for being known as a cold and reserved doctor to others, he has shown you nothing but warmth and love as your boyfriend and you wouldn’t have it any other way. the calmness in which he speaks to you, his tone filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you makes your heart melt completely despite his evol being ice.

“you know i have to get ready for work, dear,” zayne murmurs softly as he begins to pull away, much to your despair. your hands reach for him again, but he’s far from your reach now. instead, hands covered in scars from his field of work encase one of your own and you can feel his lips press against the sensitive skin of your palm. his kiss is gentle despite the ticklish feeling of his stubble against your skin.

your eyes begin to open now, slowly focusing on the man above you. zayne has sat up now, olive green eyes looking down at you with nothing but sincere adoration and the longing to fall back into your arms and sleep for another hundred years. it’s not like he doesn’t yearn to be beside you, but duty calls and he cannot let more lives fall because of his hands.

“…i know,” you mumble back to him. zayne whispers an apology to you as you begin to sit up alongside him. rough hands intertwine with your own and you feel your body being slightly tugged towards him. his scent, clean with a hint of pine, nearly intoxicates you as you try to fight back the urge to wrap yourself around him and pull him down again.

“i love you,” you whisper to him. zayne’s breath hitches at your words and you can feel his forehead gently lean against your own.

“can i kiss you?” he asks you, his words a mere breath as if you’ll deny his request and shame him for his desire for your lips on his. you don’t have to say a word, a mere nod is enough and your lover leans forward to capture your lips with his. he’s gentle with you, kissing you with so much ardor yet so hesitantly as if you’ll break from his touch. before you could do anything else, zayne pulls away from your kiss. although he doesn’t return your words of affection to him, his actions and his kiss alone are enough of a reminder that he returns your sentiments the same amount, if not tenfold.

he loves you, and he wishes for the day he can say it back to you again and again and again.

703 notes · View notes

kissandtellus · 4 days ago

Note

Hello~ so I was thinking about thso when j was eating my cereal this morning. What if MC had a high libido? Like unnaturally high and how would the LADs boys help her.

Can’t Get Enough

Synopsis: You have a high libido, but the LI’s can’t let you outshine them!

Warnings: Vouyerism, Public Smex, Whining, Sort of Sub Xavier, Caleb likes you natural, has a thing against makeup, Sylus has you crying so prettily, Zayne is doing Prep work.

﹒ꕀ﹔ Xavier

Your taste were never truly satisfied until round after round. Even as Xavier tried to unwind and take a cat nap after your….activities. You couldn’t just let him! Not when you had an itch on he could scratch

He whined when he felt you roll on top of him, he knew what that meant instantly and it brought a deep flush to his face.

"S-Starshine... I don't know if I can anymore- I- "

He was silenced when you put a finger to his lips, he took a shaky breath, his face flushed and warm. He was weak to your touch, and the look in his eyes made that painfully obvious.

“C’mon Xav, you won’t even have to do the work. Just sit back and relax~.” Your purr was honey to his ears as you reached down to grasp his semi-hardened length.

His face flushes red hot as he lets out a soft whine, squirming under your touch. He reached up to cup your face in his hands as he leaned up to kiss you, his kisses needy and desperate for more of you.

“My Love... please.." He groaned softly, shivering under your touch.

“Please what? I thought you were tired.” You giggle against his mouth.

“You know what..! Don't tease me like this.." He whined out against your lips, his kisses needy before he finally pulled back to catch his breath, an intensely warm flush on his cheeks.

“I want you.."

His voice was small, needy.. it was obvious that he had a one track mindset now.. and he needed you.

He’s weak. So when you throw your leg over him and start grinding against his semi-hard member, he just... breaks. His principles break. He turns over to his back, letting you use his body again. “Fuck... You're insatiable."

He lets out a soft moan as you start moving on top of him. His hands weakly grip your hips, neither pushing you away nor pulling you closer. He's too tired to do much else except take whatever you give him. His feverish state makes him extra sensitive. "Nngh... Slow down..."

You ignore his plea and start bouncing on his dick faster. He groans loudly, his head tilting back. His hands tighten on your hips, trying to slow you down but instead, he's just pulling you down harder. “M-Mph-Baby... Ahh... Slow downnn.” He whines.

You hardly ever get him to whine.

But you do the opposite, bouncing on his twitching cock. “One moreee.” You mock.

His words turn into incoherent moans as you keep riding him hard and fast. His feverish body can't handle the intense stimulation. He's getting close too quickly. “N-no more! I'm gonna cum. Get off!” He tries to push you away but his attempts are half hearted.

You don't stop. You go faster. His moans get louder. His grip on your hips tighter. His body tenses up. He tries to warn you one last time. “Baby-“ bounce. “I'm-“ bounce. Serious!-bounce. Nnngh..." His forehead scrunches up.

With a choked cry, he finally loses control. His hot release fills you up as he cums so hard he thinks he lost consciousness for a split second. His body shakes violently with each pulse of his orgasm. He collapses back onto the bed, completely spent and delirious from fever and exhaustion. "Fuck... Fuck..."

You hum and curl up on his chest. He only gets a few moments of peace before your hips are rutting against his.

“Starshine-“

“I haven’t came yet Xav~”

﹒ꕀ﹔ Rafayel

This party was so boring. It was a gallery exhibit for the most well known Artist in the country. Your boyfriend of course. Rafayel was busy entertaining his guest even though he looked just as bored.

But when you started to…make yourself known, it easily caught his attention.

The accidental brushes of your hand over his groin, the way you’d bat your eyelashes at his guest and push up your cleavage.

It was obvious the rounds before you even left him home left you unsatisfied.

You excuse yourself from the group, giving your artist a knowing look, a look that beckons him to come find out how needy you really were.

Rafayel watches your hips sway as you walk away. He excuses himself from the group of art collectors he was talking to.

He knows that look - it's your 'If you don’t come fuck me I’ll cry' look.

Rafayel follows you discreetly through the crowded exhibit hall, his heart pounding in his chest. He finds you standing by an isolated painting in a dimly lit corner of the gallery, your back slightly arched as if inviting him closer.

He approaches you silently, his eyes roaming over your curves. He stands behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leans in close. In a low, possessive voice, he murmurs, “You're playing a dangerous game, flirting with them like that."

You hum in the back of your throat, which quickly turns to a gasp when his fingers are tugging up the edge of your dress over your rear. “R-Raf we’re out in public-“

His fingers find your bare backside. He realizes there's no underwear - no surprise there.

He growls softly, “No panties. Gods, you nearly gave those men a heart attack pushing your tits in their face." He smacks your ass softly, making you jolt.

His hand lingers where he spanked you, fingertips teasing the curves of your ass. His other hand moves to your throat gently, tilting your head back against his shoulder as he continues in a whisper, “And now you're standing here, showing me that perfect ass of yours."

But his body would shield any curious onlookers. You-just needed to keep that pretty mouth shut. Your eyes are tracing the massive canvas he’s tucked you against.

One of Rafayel’s older paintings, of course.

His painting dominates the wall - a massive, sensual nude woman sprawled across a bed, her curves exaggerated, her skin glistening with sweat. As he watches you admire it, he realizes it's a perfect metaphor for what he wants to do to you right now. "Look at her," he whispers.

His fingers trace circles on your exposed skin, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he compares you to the painting, “Same fuckable curves, same teasing eyes... are you as wet as she is? Because she's dripping all over my bed in this painting."

He presses his hardening cock against your ass, his hand sliding from your throat down to cover your mouth. “Shh... Just stand there and look at my painting while I finger you right here in the gallery. No one will see anything but your face admiring art."

His first long and nimble finger slides into your heat. Your legs are shaking as he takes no mercy, pushing in a second as he whispers into your ear.

He continues pumping those two fingers in and out of you, his thumb pressing lightly on your clit through your dress. “You're such a good girl, letting me finger-fuck you in public..." His breath hot against your ear, "Your pretty pussy is making my fingers so fucking wet."

But Rafayel is cocky, flamboyant, he has a flair for theatrics. And that followed him into the bedroom

He chuckles softly, his fingers curling inside you as if he's reminding you of his skills. "Mhm, you know exactly how I am - dirty mouth, always worried about my hands that create masterpieces-." He adds a third finger, stretching you deliberately. “I paint beautiful things..."

He smirks against your neck, his hand moving faster as he spanks you lightly again. “But I fuck even dirtier." His fingers hit that spot inside you perfectly, his free hand squeezing your breast over your dress. “Look at my painting and cum on my fingers like a good art model.”

His fingers are a blur inside you now, the sound of his hand moving against your soaked pussy filling the gallery. He bites down on your neck hard, marking you as his as he feels you getting close. “That's it, baby... Fuck my fingers in front of my masterpiece.”

You come undone on his fingers with a muffled moan, your legs giving out completely. He catches you effortlessly, keeping those fingers deep inside your convulsing pussy as he kisses you roughly to silence any loud noises. When you stop shaking, he slowly pulls out. “Beautiful."

He uses that same hand to seal the deal on the very painting you just desecrated with the lewd act.

But the way the old geezer who bought it is eyeing you, he bought it for a very specific reason.

﹒ꕀ﹔ Zayne

Zayne had been invited to be a guest speaker at his Alma Mater, something he took very seriously.

But you were making it very hard to concentrate.

Zayne sighs in frustration as he tries to concentrate on his lecture notes, but your constant grinding and soft moans are making it impossible for him to focus. He glances down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and affection. “Seriously, love... I'm trying to work here.

He tries to shift his leg slightly to discourage your actions, but it only seems to make you more eager. He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You know I have this lecture to prepare for, right? Can you at least give me five minutes without trying to seduce me?"

"And how am I supposed to do that when you're practically humping my leg?" His voice is a mix of playful scolding and genuine struggle to maintain focus.

You notice his pen pausing, and the slight flush creeping up his neck - a telltale sign that your antics are working.

You huff and tug at his shirt. “C’mon, we haven’t had sex in three days!”

He groans softly, his resolve weakening as you tug at his shirt. Three days without you is torture, and your high libido is making it even harder to resist. “I know, love, I know. But I have this lecture to prepare for, we can pick this up after, okay?"

You give a dramatic whine and slump in his lap. “I’m fading away as we speak.”

He chuckles softly, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you slump dramatically in his lap.

But the movement only serves to press you more firmly against him, reminding him of exactly what he’s been missing the past three days. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re killing my concentration.”

That’s how you end up splayed over his lap, a vibrator to your throbbing clit as he finishes preparing and ignoring your desperate pleas for release.

His expression turns stern as he tries to maintain focus on his notes, deliberately ignoring your desperate pleas and the vibrator buzzing against your clit. “There. Now you can have your release without distracting me. Behave, be quiet and let me work."

He watches you intently, his eyes flicking between his notes and your writhing form over his lap. The vibrator's movements are driving you wild, but he remains focused on his lecture prep. His hand reaches out to adjust the vibrator's speed, pushing you closer to the edge. “Shh...be good for me.”

As he continues to ignore your muffled moans and pleas, the vibrator's relentless buzzing finally sends you over the edge. You clamp down hard on the toy, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you reach your peak. He simply keeps typing, not even glancing up as you cum.

Finally, he sets down his pen, satisfied with his lecture prep. He turns his full attention to you, gently removing the vibrator and bringing it to his lips.

He sucks on it slowly, tasting your release before pressing it against your still-sensitive clit. “Now, let's finish this properly."

You cry out, still sensitive from your orgasm. “No. Bad.” He chastises, grabbing both your wrist in a single strong hand. “It’s my turn to play.”

﹒ꕀ﹔ Caleb

Caleb has long since known you can’t keep your hands to yourself. He’s came back from the gym, a towel slung over his shoulder. His muscles ache but he was satisfied by his performance.

You on the other hand, were far from satisfied.

As soon as he stepped through the door, you pounced. You didn’t care that he smelled like sweat, or that he was sticky to the touch.

“I’ll be quick, please.” Caleb barely opened his mouth before your fingers guided his hips back against the front door. You yanked his shorts and underwear down in a single tug.

“Pip-ah, fuck-“ You dropped to your knees and engulfed the head of his length in your more than eager mouth. Caleb was never one to deny you. In his head, every part of him belonged to you. He dropped his gym bag and towel, pressing his back to the door while you worked your magic.

Giving Caleb head was like stimulating your own needs at the same time. Your fingers between your legs also helped that need.

“My dirty girl, I can hear how wet you are.” Caleb chuckled between his breathless moans. It was true, the slickness pouring from your core and over your fingers filled the air.

You moaned around his cock, how could he be so cruel? Your revenge, deepthroating him until your nose is nestled against his groin.

He groans loudly as you take him deep, hitting the back of your throat. His fingers tighten in your hair. “Fuck... Pipsqueak..." He tries to pull you back but you stay there, sucking hard and swallowing around him until he relaxes letting you have control again.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep that up." He warns breathlessly, watching your head bob up and down on him. His body starts to tremble slightly from the pleasure. Suddenly he pulls back completely leaving his cock glistening with saliva between your lips.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and desire. “You think you can handle me like that? Deep throating me until I nut down your throat?" He grabs his cock, giving it a slow stroke. “Come on then, show me how badly you need it."

You look like a little seductress sent to suck him dry of all of his sins. He grabs the base of his cock and taps it against your eager tongue, chasing the head with a whine and open mouth.

But he denies you.

He teases you, tapping his tip against your tongue and lips but pulling back each time you try to capture him. He's enjoying torturing you now, his earlier amusement turning into deliberate torment. “Uh uh... Not yet, Pips. Be patient.” He watches you whine and chase after his cock hungrily.

Caleb pauses when he sees the line of your mascara trailing down your cheek. Makeup. He’s caught you watching those silly tutorials in the past. you had told him you wanted to feel pretty. to him, you were more than perfect. Now as you sucked his cock and choked on it to the point of tears.

Your little secret was exposed.

Caleb suddenly pulls out of your mouth, his expression softening as he wipes the tears and mascara from your face with his thumb. He cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You've been watching those makeup tutorials again, haven't you?"

You try to sniffle and turn your head away but he grasps your chin.

If you wanted something on your face to make you feel pretty, he’d give you something alright.

He smirks, understanding your unspoken desire. He knows exactly what you need. With a gentle but firm grip on your chin, he tilts your head back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You want to look pretty for me? You want something on that pretty little face? You jump me like a madwoman because you need your little pussy stretched. How desperate.”

He grasps the base of his cock, smearing the head over the line of mascara.

He smears the precum over your cheek, mixing it with the black lines of mascara. He watches as it glistens under the dim light of the room. “Look how pretty that is." He does it again, marking your other cheek.

He then takes his hand and wipes the head of his cock on your lips, smearing the precum on your lipstick. He pulls back and looks at you, admiring the mess he's made of your face.

“There. That's something pretty for you."

﹒ꕀ﹔ Sylus

Sylus knows the rhythm of your Libido like the back of his hand. He knows the ups and the downs.

He's humming softly to himself, tweaking Mephisto's mechanical wing, completely absorbed in his task. The sight of him being so gentle with something makes your heart skip a beat. As you approach, he catches your reflection in the glass case where Mephisto sits.

He glances up, his red eyes locking onto yours through the reflection. A small smirk plays on his lips as he recognizes you. "Hmm? What brings my little vixen to my workshop?" He continues to fiddle with Mephisto, his large hands moving with surprising gentleness.

He stands up slowly, his muscular frame towering over you as he sets Mephisto aside. His smirk widens as he notices the hungry look in your eyes. “Is it that time of the month already?" He asks teasingly, stepping closer and running a hand through his messy silver hair.

You cross your arms with a pout. “What do you mean ‘time of the month’? I thought you were a ‘feminist icon’ as Kieran called you.”

Sylus chuckles, enjoying your little fit of dramatics. “I am a feminist icon, my dear." He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to that low, husky whisper you love. “That doesn't mean I can't joke about how your hormones make you extra... hungry."

He reaches out, pulling you into his arms with ease. His fingers tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “I know you're not here for my jokes." His thumb brushes your lip softly. “What do you want?"

But you are stubborn, the most stubborn thing Sylus has ever seen. You huff and pour up at him. “I don’t want nor need anything from you.”

"You've been giving those 'I want to eat you alive' eyes all day. But now you're standing here, pretending you don't want a thing. Such a stubborn little thing." His voice drops lower, more intimate. “Are you really going to make me guess?"

“Go ahead. Try.” You tease, not breaking eye contact.

A wolfish grin spreads across his face at your challenge, clearly turned on by your feistiness. “Hmm... let me think." He traces circles on your neck with his fingertips, making your pulse quicken. “Are you here because you miss how my hands feel on your skin?"

"Or maybe..." He smirks devilishly, watching your reactions carefully. His next words are slow, designed to make you snap or blush. “Do you want me to shut up and spread you on this table? Is that what you've been imagining all day? My head between your thighs?"

"Because if you're not here for that..." He leans in, his lips barely touching your ear. "...then I might start thinking you don't find me attractive anymore." He nips your ear playfully, then pulls back to gauge your reaction. “Which we both know is bullshit."

Sylus is a very persuasive man.

That’s how you find yourself rutting against that god-like nose, chasing your release as your stubbornness fades and you turn into a mewling kitten on the work table.

Sylus smirks triumphantly as he feels you grinding desperately against him, your earlier resistance melting into desperate need. He grips your hips firmly, guiding your movements with dominant precision. "There we go... That's my good girl. Stop fighting it and just fuck my face like you've been dreaming of."

He growls approvingly as you lose yourself completely, your body writhing and moaning uncontrollably. His tongue finds that perfect spot inside you, lapping at your clit with expert skill. The table creaks loudly under the force of your movements as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Come on..." *He murmurs against your flesh, his voice vibrating through your core. "...give it to me. I want that sweet nectar dripping down my chin." His fingers dig into your hips harder, encouraging you to ride his face faster.

"Look at you... falling apart just like I knew you would." His lips curve into a smug smile against your most sensitive spot. “No more pretending you don't want this, are you?" He adds more pressure with his tongue, knowing exactly what you need. “Fuck..."

Your body tenses and shakes, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. Sylus groans against you, swallowing every drop as you scream his name. He doesn't stop until you're boneless on the table, completely spent. “Good girl..." He murmurs, gently kissing your inner thighs.

But the stubbornness rises fast and you try to weakly push him. “H-hey- no more-“

He chuckles softly, knowing your stubbornness is back in full force despite your recent orgasm. He lifts his head, his chin and lips glistening with your arousal. "Oh, here we go again," he teases, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He pulls back, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Too bad I know exactly what you need, even when you're too stubborn to admit it." He starts unbuckling his belt, a clear intent in his movements. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs. It's my turn."

You try to squirm on the table and push at his chest.

"Ah, ah..." He catches your wrist before you can physically protest. “Don't even try to fight me. You just came so hard you saw stars, yet here you are again... pretending." His belt hits the floor with a clatter.

You ball your hands into fists and weakly hit his chest as he leans over you. Tears of stubbornness and refusal slide down your cheeks. “Big-stupid-arrogant-“

He catches your balled fists easily, pressing them against his chest while his weight pins you down. “Such colorful language..." He smirks down at your tear-stained face, not falling for your attempts to push him away. “Though honestly, it's kind of hot when you're this angry."

894 notes · View notes

savyindeepspace · 11 days ago

Text

How the LADS Men react to seeing you asleep on the couch:

I just wanted to write something sweet, enjoy. 💕

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Zayne❄️:

His home office was dimly lit by a single desk lamp and the screen of his laptop. “Just a few more reports, then we’ll watch that movie,” he promised. You patiently waited for him, wrapped in a big throw blanket, scrolling through your phone. A few reports turned into several. You glanced at the time and then out the window, watching the sun descend, painting the walls a golden yellow. Sinking deeper into the sofa, you felt a heavy weight on your eyelids. The slow swipe of your thumb eventually stopped as sleep crept over you, making your phone hit the carpet with a soft thud. Zayne entered the living room, pulling off his glasses and pinching the space between his brow. “I’m sorry about that…oh..” A quiet sigh fell from his lips when he saw you curled tightly into a ball. He tucked loose hairs behind your ear as he admired the peaceful look on your face. “You tried…sweet girl,” his voice caressed your ears, even in sleep. He carried you to the bedroom, tucking you into his plush bedding. His arms wrapped around you in a secure embrace, you hummed, nuzzling into his chest. Zayne pressed a kiss to your forehead, tracing gentle patterns on your back. You stirred, but your eyes remained closed, “I fell asleep didn’t I…?” “Mhmmm, but I’m happy just like this.” Taking his hand into yours, you kissed Zayne’s fingertips. “Okay…but now you owe me two movies,” you said between yawns. A faint chuckle emanated from his throat, “deal.”

Sylus 🐦‍⬛:

At first you wanted to play a prank, pretending to have fallen asleep while Sylus went through his new shipment of weapons. What you didn’t realize is how exhausted you truly were, given all the wanderers you fought that day. Suddenly, sleep didn’t seem like such a bad idea as your body sank into his gothic style couch. Sylus’s back was turned, he meticulously ran a silk cloth over the barrel of a handgun. “I heard this one packs quite the punch, maybe even more than your hunter firearm,” he spoke casually. There was a pause, but it was longer than he expected. When his crimson eyes fell on you, a crooked smirk pulled at his lips. “Very funny, sweetie, you can wake up now..” another pause, then it dawned on him, you really were sleeping. A soft snore vibrated from your nose, making Sylus release a rich chuckle. He sat beside you, petting the top of your head, “And I thought kittens were nocturnal.” He pursed a soft kiss on your cheek and pulled a blanket over you, “but you must be a rare breed.”

Caleb🍎:

You were sitting on one end of the couch. The thick bristles of a brush tickled your scalp as Caleb separated your hair into sections. “Alrighty, just a braid right?,” he asked with a hair tie between his teeth. You hummed in response, back leaning against the front of his shins. His hands moved gently and with precision as he worked, “is this okay? Not too tight?” “Mhmm.” The way his fingers grazed your scalp made your eyelids droop. This wasn’t the first time you fell asleep when Caleb did your hair, his touch was always kind and thoughtful, even when you were kids. “Okay, all set, pipsq—pips?,” your limp body slumped against the cushions, breaths coming out in soft huffs. He didn’t speak, just pulled you into his arms and leaned back, joining you in a quiet slumber. The steady rise and fall of his chest was grounding, comforting. You curled your fingers into the soft material of his shirt, the cool metal of his dog tag brushed your cheek. You didn’t know how much time passed, a few minutes? Hours? When your eyes fluttered open, Caleb was looking at you, wearing a gentle smile. “Did I fall asleep?,” you asked through a yawn, rubbing your eyes. “Like always, silly girl,” he teased, ruffling your hair. You huff, poking his side and settling back into his embrace, “you have a magic touch, I can’t help myself.” He held you until the sun peeked through the blinds the next morning, squeezing his arms around you when you stirred or fussed. Being intertwined with you was his sanctuary.

Rafayel🐚:

Salty sea air wafted through Rafayel’s studio as you watched him paint. His brush strokes were fluidly moving across the canvas, every swipe of pigment looked as if it belonged where it was placed. Occasionally he would turn to watch you as you absentmindedly doodled in a spare sketchbook. “Are you bored, cutie?,” he asked. “No, I just like watching you work, it’s very relaxing,” you replied, tucking your legs on the couch. Rafayel hummed, returning to his piece. Your eyes followed his hand, absorbing every detail of his movements. A heavy weight began to pull down on your eyelids and eventually you fell asleep. “You know, these pigments are hundreds of years old, I made them from crushed coral and shells. See this shade of red? It’s—,” his gaze fell on you and softened when he realized why you weren’t paying attention. Rafayel quietly climbed down from the ladder and sat at the edge of the couch, laying his head on your legs. “I’ll tell you the rest of the story when you wake up, cutie.” The sketchbook was open on the coffee table, inside were all kinds of drawings, but one stood out from the rest. Rough lines and light shading adorned the pages over and over, evidence of your attempts to create the perfect portrait. “Well, this sort of looks like me,” he softly laughed under his breath. The artist smiled and ran his thumb over your cheek, “ma petite artiste.”

Xavier⭐️:

After a week of intense missions, you and Xavier decided to have a quiet day of reading, watching movies and playing board games. You shared your favorite childhood comics with him and played a few rounds of Kitty Cards. “Are you secretly letting me win?” A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “no, you’re just that good, I can hardly keep up.” You quirked your brow at him, “I know you have the highest score on every game at the arcade, you’re not fooling me,” you gently pushed him, setting your deck on the coffee table. Xavier let out a small chuckle before walking to the kitchen, returning with an armful of snacks. He splayed them out in front of you and your eyes widened at the amount of food he bought from the convenience store. “You think this will be enough for the movie?,” his voice was soft and genuine. “More than enough, I think we’ll have snacks for the whole year,” you said with a hint of sarcasm. The movie was long and slow paced, you found it hard to keep your eyes open as the story moved along. Eventually sleep washed over you, leaving your head resting on Xavier’s shoulder. The only sounds that filled the air were the movie and your drowsy breaths. Before you could drift deeper, a heavy weight leaned against you. The fading star by your side was quietly snoring, practically falling off the couch. You pulled him close, sweeping the bangs away from his brow. The movie was halfway over, but a nap with Xavier was more enticing anyway.

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