#dom caleb

[mapsthewanderer]

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☘︎ CALEB’S GIRL TOY

Synopsis: You don’t know his name. He doesn’t want to know yours. What you do know is that he’s chosen you—not for who you are, but for who you resemble. And you said yes. This is a fantasy you were never meant to be part of, but you’re already playing the part. He’s charming, commanding, impossibly hot—and somewhere beneath the control, something cracks. But not for you. Because you were never supposed to matter. Just a stand-in. Just a girl toy—for Caleb.

Details: 3000 words of unhinged dom energy. 18+ stuff. Notinoti stuff. No s*x, but plenty sexy time heeeh. Expect sexual tension, humiliation, control, and the kind of mouthwatering, mind-warping power play only Colonel Caleb can deliver. Submissive reader POV, nonMC fem. And yes—he’s broken. Of course he is. You’re welcome. (Just a lil drabble pilot from a series I might be working on. If you like the vibe I’ll continue with more chapters)

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Borrowed Skin | Pilot

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You met him online.

No fireworks, no grand declarations. Just a message one night when you were bored and a little drunk on wine, clicking through profiles with a kind of casual hunger. His username was stupid—smug. His first message, cocky. But clever. You remember the way he phrased it like he already knew you’d answer.

C_You_Naked: ever had someone make you stand at attention through a screen?

You answered.

And now you’re weeks deep. A few messages turned into entire nights on your phone. You’ve talked about everything and nothing. Laughed until your ribs hurt. Dared each other, teased each other. You’ve exchanged photos. A few video calls. You know what his voice sounds like at 2AM when he’s tired and laughing under his breath. You know what his collarbones look like in dim lighting. You know what his belt looks like coiled in his lap.

And you know what his fingers look like wrapped around a his cock.

One night, while you were getting ready for bed—face washed, silk shorts clinging to freshly lotioned skin, the quiet hum of your room settling around you—your phone buzzed.

A message from him.

He’d sent another picture.

Not to scare you—just to tease. Playful, but with that unmistakable undercurrent he always carried.

It was a picture of something made of black leather, sleek and straight, with a short strap attached at the end—more like a flattened tongue than a proper whip. Elegant. Mean-looking. Strange. Beautiful, in the way sharp things can be. “Interrogation tool” he’d captioned it.

Followed by a winking emoji that somehow felt more like a smirk.

You’d answered with a flushed, blushing emoji. Half-shy, half-inviting. You weren’t fooling either of you.

C_You_Naked: you’re sure? you don’t even know what this thing does yet. might not be able to walk after.

The next image that came through was almost artistic—his gloved hands holding the leather, the tool curled obediently across his palm. His fingers gripped it lightly, like he was offering it. Or warning you.

Either way, it made your breath catch.

C_You_Naked: pretty little toy for a pretty little girl.

You hesitated only a second.

YOU: yes.

C_You_Naked: mm. don’t say i didn’t warn you. if you flinch, I’ll stop. if you cry, I might not.

You laughed. Flushed. Wrote something flirty back.

YOU: you’re awful.

C_You_Naked: nah. i’m careful. awful comes later. when you’re begging me not to stop.

But he never crossed the line. Not really. Every time the conversation dipped into darker waters, he checked in. Asked how you felt. Teased you, yes, but never cruelly. He’d joke and then soften it, say something stupid to make you laugh. It kept the knife edge from cutting too deep.

But he made you ache.

He’s hot—insanely so. That much is undeniable. Tall, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth that looks like it was made to sin. His hair falls in dark bangs often slipping into his eyes—eyes that feel too sharp, too steady. Like they don’t just see you, but see through you.

And his voice… the kind that hums in your chest before it ever reaches your ears. It moves like silk—teasing, amused—until it turns.

But you don’t know his name. And he doesn’t want to know yours.

You were allowed his phone number—for convenience, he’d said, like it wasn’t a privilege. And you’re allowed to call him C through text. Or Colonel—when he wants to hear it sharp between your teeth on a call.

And now, C is in your city. Like a storm that changed its path just to find you.

C: in town for a few days. want to see you. want you on your knees.

Your breath stuttered. You stared too long, the glow of the screen washing over your face—then your fingers moved, answering before your thoughts could catch up.

YOU: send me the address.

——————————————————————————

Now it’s late, and you’re walking through the city night. Heels clicking against the pavement. The cold nips at your bare legs, sharp as teeth, but you don’t mind. You shaved. Wore perfume. Lined your lips. Every move tonight was made for him.

The hotel looms sleek and modern—expensive without being flashy. You step through the doors like you belong, head high. Your coat clings to your body, and you can feel a few eyes on you. You don’t meet them. You don’t care.

You text C.

YOU: I’m here.

With your heart hammering, you wait. You nod at the receptionist, casual. Just a girl in heels and a trench coat, standing a little too confidently to be lost.

Your phone buzzes.

C: 891. if you’re nervous, turn around. if you’re brave, knock twice. if you’re mine tonight, don’t say a word when you come in. just kneel.

Your breath leaves you in a single, shaky exhale and you walk toward the elevator, and you hold your breath.

It’s not nerves exactly. Not fear. You know what this is. You’re not naive. You’ve read between every line of his messages, caught the cold steel beneath the velvet. C isn’t here for love. Not for sweet talk or second dates.

He wants you. As in—what you can give him.

And you’ve decided you’re willing.

The elevator dings softly when it arrives. You step in alone. A low hum fills the small space. Chrome walls, sterile lighting. You watch yourself in the mirror paneling—lips slightly parted, pupils too wide, coat pulled tight across your chest. You smooth your skirt with trembling fingers. Cross one leg behind the other, then uncross. Breathe.

A small hiss as the doors close.

Eighth floor.

You ride up in silence. If there’s any soft lounge music playing in the elevator, you don’t hear it—all you can hear is the thudding of your pulse behind your ribs, loud and steady, like a warning you’re far too gone to heed.

When you step into the hallway, the carpet hushes your footsteps. Everything smells expensive—leather, pine, the soft hush of wealth. You keep your chin lifted. Count off the numbers on the doors.

885.

887.

889… 891.

You stop. Stand before it. The hallway is still, thick with quiet like something is holding its breath with you.

You reach into your bag. Pull out your compact. Your fingers are steady as you apply a thin coat of fresh lipstick. Deep red. The color you know he likes. You press your lips together once. Twice. Inhale. Exhale.

This is your last chance to walk away.

You knock.

Twice.

The door clicks open.

And you step inside.

The suite hits you first with its size, then its silence. It’s enormous—vaulted ceilings, sleek marble floors half-shadowed in warm, low lighting. And then the scent hits you, soft but distinct—his cologne. Sandalwood, clean and grounded, edged with something cooler, metallic. Underneath it all, a crisp sweetness lingers—bright, almost edible. Like something ripe just out of reach. It curls in your lungs and makes your stomach flutter.

To your right, the bathroom door is cracked open. Through it, you can see a freestanding tub near glass walls that stretch from floor to ceiling. A nighttime view of the city glitters beyond like a galaxy laid out just for you.

In the main room, a bed dominates the space—massive, wide, decadently made with dark gray sheets that gleam faintly in the low light.

And there—angled slightly away, a leather chair facing the window, not quite straight—

Him. C. The Colonel.

You stop. Just for a second.

From this view, all you see are the long lines of his legs, one draped lazily over the other. A glass glints in a gloved hand, catching the low light like polished onyx. The liquid inside is clear—water? Vodka? You can’t tell. He’s just posture and silhouette for now—pristine white uniform trousers, boots still on, black wool coat worn like armor over his shoulders.

A mystery with perfect posture. And too many secrets.

The Colonel still hasn’t turned.

“You made it,” he says, voice curling through the room like smoke. Amused.

The glass lifts in salute—graceful, effortless.

“Wardrobe’s on your left.”

And still—he doesn’t look at you.

You move before your mind can catch up. The coat slips from your shoulders like it was always meant to fall. Fingers tipped in red polish reach to unbuckle your heels—instinct, habit—

“Keep the shoes on,” C murmurs. A pause. Then, “…please.”

It’s the please that gets you.

Heels stay on. Black. Pointed. Slim.

Sharp—like the woman you thought you’d be tonight.

But as you pass the mirror near the wardrobe, something shifts. You pause. Not to fix, but to submit. To recognize what’s about to happen.

Yes. This is you. Just sharper now, softer now.

Ready to be unmade.

You nod once.

Then you walk.

Each step toward the chair sounds impossibly loud, your heels striking the floor with measured rhythm. And just before you reach him—

C rises.

And stops dead.

Staring like you’ve just knocked the air from his lungs—like something sharp hit behind the ribs and lodged there. His gaze catches on your face and stays. Mouth parted. Breath stalled. The glass in his hand lowers, forgotten.

Movement gives him away. Too fast. Too eager. Like some invisible thread yanked him forward before thought could even form

Shit.

You can see it hit him. The recognition. The mistake.

You really do look like her.

C steps closer. There’s no performance in it now. Just raw momentum.

Gloved fingers lift to your cheek. They don’t tremble—but they hover there, suspended like a question he’s afraid to ask. Then, slowly, they make contact. Leather dragging soft and firm along your skin, brushing the curve of your jaw, down the side of your neck, lingering at the delicate dip of your collarbone.

Breath slips from his nose—quiet, controlled, but not untouched by something trembling. His mouth parts slightly. What escapes is clean: minted from mouthwash, sharp and close. Beneath it, that same cologne—wood and heat and something colder, metallic—richer now, more human.

It lingers until you shiver.

Your gaze drops, instinctively following the path of his hand as it brushes your lower lip with the backs of his fingers—and that’s when you meet his eyes.

And then you see them.

Violet.

Dark.

Fractured.

They roam your face with the kind of desperation that isn’t lust—it’s hunger. A different kind. Deeper. Older. One that gnaws.

His gaze shakes as it searches yours, like he’s looking for something he knows isn’t there. Like if he stares long enough, hard enough, maybe he can conjure it.

Tears nearly push to the surface. Not yours.

His.

You see them, right there—almost—behind the violet. Not falling. But glinting, trembling at the edges of something he’s not ready to admit.

His lips press into a line.

And his eyes stay starving.

But it’s not for you.

It’s for her.

For who you resemble. For what he remembers. For something he wants, just for a night—even if it isn’t real.

Then his jaw flexes—a flicker of tension, the snap-back. The mask tightens.

Something shifts behind the Colonel’s eyes as he pulls himself from whatever memory he’d let wash over him. Like a door, quietly but firmly, shutting.

“We’re gonna have so much fun…” C lingers on the word like it tastes different on his tongue. “Just… try not to make me regret it too soon, alright?”

Then he turns away.

The coat shifts with the movement, long silhouette stirring like smoke in low light. He lifts his glass—whatever’s inside catches the light, cold enough that condensation beads along the surface. A low sip follows, and the corner of his mouth curls like he already knows what you’ll do next.

Deliberately, he coughs. Soft. Controlled. A quiet break in the silence, sharp enough to test your nerves. To see if you flinch. You don’t.

The Colonel watches you now.

Fully.

From the sharp points of your heels to the delicate curve of your collarbone, his gaze drags. One glove, then the next, peeled from his hands with unhurried precision. Each finger released like a countdown. He sets them aside on the arm of the chair—neatly—like it’s all part of a ritual he’s practiced a hundred times. A job. A rite. A claiming.

“You look like you’ll do,” he says, voice low, amused. Almost thoughtful. “But… Let’s just get something straight.”

C steps closer, hands bare now, warm and very real.

“I’m not here for your heart.” A pause. His head tilts, smile lazy. “Got too many feelings in my life already. Don’t need yours cluttering things up.”

Fingers brush your hip. “What I want tonight is simple. Your body. Your obedience.” The voice isn’t teasing anymore. The warmth from the messages, the charm in the calls—none of it followed him into this room. These aren’t requests. They’re facts, spoken like law.

He shrugs—one shoulder, lazy—and lifts a hand, gesturing toward the door like he’s dismissing an unnecessary thought.

“Everything else? Leave it there.”

The space between you shortens like it’s folding in on itself. A hand rises and he takes your chin between his fingers. He tilts your face up, and you feel it in your spine—the way the world stills in his grip.

Glittering irises find yours. Violet. Unblinking.

“When I say kneel,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing the curve of your lower lip, “you kneel.”

“When I say open your mouth, you don’t ask why.”

He leans in, breath warm against your cheek, lips brushing close—not a kiss, just proximity.

“And when I say spit on my cock…” C smiles like he’s letting the words sink in bone-deep.

“…you make it pretty.”

His grip lingers on your chin for just a second more. Then releases.

And it doesn’t feel like a threat. The way he says it—it’s not cruel. It’s honest. And the honesty might just be the cruelest part.

“Can you do that for me?” The question hangs between you like a blade. “If not… walk out. Now.”

Fingers laced behind his back, shoulders settling with that soldier’s ease, the Colonel turns his head and smiles at the door.

You say nothing.

You drop to your knees.

And the silence stretches.

One brow lifts, just a touch. His expression unreadable, save for the flicker of something close to amusement—or maybe disappointment. Like he’s letting you stew in the choice you almost missed.

“Hmm… Still not kneeling properly,” he murmurs—voice low, vibrating through your skin.

Boots shift against the marble as he steps in closer, circling you once, slow. He stops just behind you—breath brushes the crown of your head. Instinct tugs at your spine—you shift slightly, lowering your shoulders, parting your knees just a fraction more. A silent offering. A quieter shape.

“But look at that… you’re finally catching on.”

Fingers brush your hair back from your shoulder, almost tender, baring the curve of your neck.

“Took you long enough. Don’t get bratty on me now—I’m not in the mood to train tonight.”

His mouth finds the hollow where your neck meets your shoulder. Pressed right over your pulse like a warning.

“Oh—… Is that it?” His lips graze your ear. “You want me to train you?” He breathes in, slow. Almost amused. Almost not. “Tsk… You want that position, you earn it.”

A beat. Then lower—final:

“Or you can crawl back out that door and spend the rest of the night wondering what it would’ve felt like to be owned.”

And with the last word still warm on your skin, his teeth catch your earlobe—just enough to sting, just enough to steal your breath. A hand rises, steady, firm, cradling the back of your neck like a claim. A reminder. You’re his. For tonight. For this.

The marble floor bites into your knees, polished and cold. You stay still—breathing, waiting, head bowed not in hesitation, but in silent acceptance. Of the terms. Of him.

Behind you, The Colonel moves. You feel the weight of his gaze on your back, and then the soft shift of fabric as he lowers himself again—his boots echo faintly as they reposition. He crouches beside you, leveling his head with yours, shoulder brushing your upper arm. Close enough that you can feel the heat of him.

“We’ve talked this through,” he murmurs. “But just to be sure… aside from moans, screams—” a pause, his lips ghosting your cheek, “this is the only word you’re allowed to speak.”

A thumb drags along your jaw, tipping your face toward him.

“Say it.”

You breathe in. The room feels heavier now.

“Your out,” he says softly. “You say it, everything stops. No questions. No guilt.”

He waits.

Still crouched beside you. Still watching like a man reading a confession in the shape of your inhale. His stare doesn’t soften—it sharpens. Measuring. Testing. Waiting for proof.

You meet his gaze. Your breath shakes.

“Apple,” you whisper, just to feel it pass your lips. It tastes strange. Foreign. Like a weapon you don’t expect to use—but have to know you carry.

His smile comes slow. Not kind. Not cruel. Just pleased.

Then he tilts his head, one brow barely lifted. Casual. But his eyes gleam.

“And if you need something from me?” he asks, voice almost lazy. “What do you call me?”

Your stomach tightens. It’s a trap. You know it. You feel it sink its teeth into the silence before your brain can catch up.

He watches you. Waits.

Say it, his eyes seem to dare. Try.

Your lips part. The shape of C touches your tongue—

You stop.

Try again—Co——but you freeze. The rest dies there.

Jaw tightens. Lips press together. Teeth catch the soft swell of your bottom lip, biting down—gentle, deliberate. A silent I understand.

The gleam in his eyes turns to something molten.

You passed.

“Good girl.”

The praise slips over your skin like warm silk—earned, edged, and entirely his. Teeth flash—he bites your cheek. Cruel enough to make your skin sing, your blood flash hot. His lips follow the sting, brushing the mark like he’s sealing it.

“Mmh,” he hums, “would’ve been embarrassing if you messed that up.”

A soft chuckle follows—almost fond, but edged in pride and heat.

“Glad you’re not stupid,” he coos. “I’d hate to break something pretty just because it couldn’t follow orders.”

He straightens—slow, towering. One hand smooths down the front of his uniform, crisping the line that didn’t need adjusting, but he does it anyway. The shift in energy cracks through the air like static, dominance slipping back over him like a second skin.

Gloves, once forgotten on the armchair, are pulled back on with quiet ceremony. Each finger drawn in, leather creaking softly as if savoring the return. From beneath his uniform jacket, he draws it out. Sleek. Black. Cruel-looking in its elegance. The infamous “interrogation tool.”

It rests in his hand like it belongs there.

“Now…” The word drops like a stone into your stomach, his tone coiling low and thick. “Let’s see if my toy knows how to behave.”

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I’ll show you what you look like from the inside

And I’ll see you when the wrath comes around

Tonight, you have the answer

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[little-glitter-kitten]

I Think The Apple's Rotten Right To The Core Pt 5

Prologue: As your brother, Caleb always took great pride in the fact that he was always the first to notice the little things when it came to you. When you were hurt, when you were sick, when you were lying or keeping a secret. What will Caleb do when he notices just how much his precious little adopted sister has grown? Can he fight the filthy, rotten feelings threatening to ruin all he holds dear?

(Caleb x Reader, no use of 'Y/N, AFAB reader, size difference.)

TW: Pseudo-incest, dub-con, somnophilia, semi-public sex, possessive Caleb, Obsessed Caleb, Yandere Caleb.

YOUR POV:

The trip to the park was nice. Just like old times...almost.

The two of you sat on the swings and chatted, about work, about friends, about your new adult lives but there was an undercurrent, pulsing and beckoning, that was almost impossible to ignore. You could tell Caleb could feel it, too. He seemed to distance himself and on those rare occasions he allowed himself to touch you, it never lasted long, much to your disappointment.

Getting back home around lunch time, you found the note Grandma had left on the coffee table, informing you she had gone out to Bingo and would be back later.

The two of you were alone and the silence became deafening. A silence filled with words left unsaid.

"I..." You struggled to find an excuse to leave the room that had begun to feel suffocating. "need to go make my bed."

With that, you ran up the stairs to your bedroom. Once you got there, you realised it was the worst place for the solace you so sorely needed. You stared at the bed where just less than 24 hours ago, your brother had come from using your body. The bed where you had fingered yourself to orgasm after orgasm, pretending it was his hands.

Hanging your head, you were dealt with another harsh reminder of last night in the form of your dark blue lace panties, still bearing traces of your arousal and Calebs pre-cum.

Determined to keep yourself busy and focus on literally anything else, you decided to follow through on your word and make your bed.

Eventually, you hear the indistinct chatter of the TV downstairs being turned on and you find yourself relaxing into the motions of the task and begin to feel somewhat calmer. Leaning over the side of the bed to tuck in the sheet, you heard a sharp intake of breath behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, you find Caleb at the doorway, his gaze fixed on you like a hawk watching their prey. That was the moment you realised how much your sundress had ridden up your thighs, the slightest peek of your white satin panties peeking out from under the dress.

You quickly turn around and sit on the bed, pulling your dress as far as it goes over your thighs.

"I was just coming to tell you Grandma is back." He clears his throat and shakes his head. "She's making lasagne for dinner."

"Okay." You say simply, unable to find any other words.

"Okay then." Caleb say with a slight chuckle before turning to leave when he stops abruptly, staring at the floor.

Following his gaze, you see what he is staring at. Your panties from the night before.

As memories come flooding back from the previous night, you clench your thighs together and release a deep breath at the small relief of the friction. Calebs gaze shoots over to you, a small knowing smirk on his face.

"You never could lie to me, Mèimei." He says, bending down and picking up the used underwear. "You forget, I know you too well."

You watch as he lifts it to his nose and inhales deeply, his eyes rolling back as he let's out a long steady groan. His eyes flick back to yours as he palms himself through the denim of his jeans. He takes a small step into the room, just enough to step in out of the doorway.

"One last time..." He voice so soft, you almost didn't hear him. "Help me, one last time."

Watching his hips thrust slighting into his hands, you can't stop yourself...you nod.

A relieved smile washes over his face as his fingers make quick work of his fly. His cock springs out and you can't help but look. It's....perfect.

Circumcised, slightly larger than average in both girth and length, with large veins running up either side to the red tip, leaking with pre-cum.

You rub your thighs together, seeking any sort of friction.

"Open them." He says, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument. "Let me see."

Slowly, you spread your thighs, lifting your dress for him to see your panties that are becoming increasingly wet. His hand begins pumping himself faster as you let him see your white satin underwear.

"Good girl." He brings his other hand, still clutching the blue scrap of fabric back up to his nose, his eyes staring straight into yours as he inhales the scent of your combined fluids. "There's no need to be shy in front of Gēge."

"You two, dinner is almost ready. Can somebody please help set the table" You jump at the sound of your grandmothers voice floating up the stairs but Caleb doesn't lose his momentum at all, his fist still pumping over his cock.

Taking a deep breath, he lowers the panties from his face and turns his head. "Coming!" He calls back, his voice completely unaffected by his stroking.

The surprise must have shown on your face because he gives you a cheeky wink before speeding up his movements a bit more.

You couldn't look away from this man, standing in your doorway, pumping his cock at the mere sight of your spread legs. You couldn't believe you would have such an effect on him to push him to such reckless behaviour. You wanted to know just how far you could push him. You wanted to see him lose his composure and crack his cool facade.

Emboldened, you lift one foot onto the mattress, watching his as his eyes widen, taking in as much of you as he can. Before you nerves get the better of you, you reach down, grasping your panties and slowly pulling them to the side, exposing your pussy to his predatory gaze.

The quiet, slick rhythmic sound of his fist pumping over his cock was broken by Caleb choking back a moan.

In almost the blink of an eye, Caleb was now standing in front of you, pushing you back on to the mattress and coming to hover over you. His hips slotted between your legs as his fist began moving rapidly.

"Watch." He commanded. You looked down just in time to see thick ropes of cum shoot out, onto your pussy. The sound of his deep, long groan in your ear as his hips bucked into his fist, milking the last drops of cum, was something you would never forget.

You lie back, legs spread as his cum rolled off your clit and down your pussy. Panting like you just ran a marathon.

"Filthy girl..." He whispered, his finger grazing through the cum just above your clit and bring it up to spread it over your bottom lip. "Go clean yourself up."

You watched as he stood up and tucked himself back into his jeans.

Looking down at you and your dishevelled state, he gave a slight chuckle before bending down to kiss your cheek so sweetly and murmur in your ear "Unless you like the idea of eating at the family dinner table with your pussy covered in your brothers cum."

With a gentle, loving, but borderline condescending pat to your cheek, he straightened himself back up and left the room.

[loveanddeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons Pt. II

An impromptu two parter of me just spitballing (Pt. I for reference). This started out as a cutesy mini headcanon post for Raf’s bday, but quickly grew into hyper specific romantic scenarios and wishful thinking. It’s still probably clear who my mains are 😭 but I did my best to showcase the humility in all LIs

⤠ Disclaimer: I’m quite happy with the intimate headcanons from my initial post and truthfully couldn’t expand too too much without basically repeating myself from last time. So with the exception of Caleb, there’s a bit less spicy bullets this go-round :/

⤠ Tags: 18+, MDNI, *slight spoilers depending on affinity level or personal progress in main story +myths, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but written with an afab + fem!reader in mind

⤠ Word count: 2.1k (mostly proofread)

Xavier

SFW

✧ Eats the raisins you pick out of the trail mix

✧ Always draws stars next to your name when writing you letters/cards

✧ Bookstore dates. At every visit, you pick one of your favourite books to read for each other

✧ After begging him tirelessly to teach you a song, *any song* on the piano, he mischievously chose ‘Heart & Soul’

✧ Saves every voicemail/voice note. He often replays them to stay sane on dangerous solo missions 

✧ On top of that, he made a bunny plushie version of you at one of those 'Build-A-Bear' type shops and used one of your voice notes . He sleeps with it on nights he can't sleep with you

✧ Sprays more cologne on his hoodies knowing you love the scent. He also thinks the extra spritz of fragrance will ward off other men since he knows you borrow his clothes. It’s his silent way of marking what’s his

✧ Loves making you blush. He didn't get enough time to court you in the past timeline on Philos, so he seizes every opportunity to (quite effortlessly) rizz you up to see your flushed expression

NSFW

✧ [canonically makes bolder moves to see how you’d react —secret times lvl 165]

✧ Game head. He gets a bit of an adrenaline rush if you do it while he’s online

✧ Doesn’t give not one shit about how loud you guys are. He probably prefers sex on the couch on the off chance Charlie might be passing through the hallway

✧ Though I still think he’s pretty quiet, he becomes a bit of a whiny mess when you’re edging him

✧ A gripper. Grabs on your ass during cowgirl, your chest during missionary, your hips/thighs during doggy, etc

✧ Sprained his neck from holding your hips down and guiding you when you sat on his face. It left him smirking throughout his recovery. Every painful twitch was a pleasant reminder of a job well done 

✧ Has the fastest pace ot5. He moves at lightning speed when batting wanderers, so he probably moves at a back breaking break neck speed while inside of you 

✧ After rewatching the 'No Restraint' card on YouTube… *sweats* he’s got magic fingers. I’ll put it like this and move on: firm, tiny circles 🫠

Caleb

SFW

✧ 10+ hours long face time calls

✧ Would actually be pretty decent at the claw machine if he wasn't such a massive cheater

✧ Utility man. He's your personal chauffer, home chef, alarm clock, umbrella, trainer, handyman, and so on. He strives to be the perfect emergency contact

✧ Has definitely seen those videos of couples trying to recreate yoga poses and had you try with him (would probably cheat using his evol)

✧ Bounces his leg if you scratch that one spot on his head when you play with his hair

✧ You always end up sitting on his lap when cuddling watching tv or reading peacefully together 

✧ Holds pinkies more often than holding hands

✧ Super athletic and adventurous dates i.e. zip lining, skydiving, paragliding, kayaking, hiking, etc. He’s patient, encouraging, and talks you through the scariest parts of the activity and rewards you with several kisses in between telling you how brave you were

NSFW

✧ Hands down has the roughest sex regularly ot5

✧ Mile high club

✧ Orgasm denial + overstimulation 

✧ LOUD, TALKATIVE, and MESSY 

✧ Sloppy eater

✧ He expects a sloppy eater in return. Is probably the type to grab your head and start guiding you when he’s close 

✧ Ik I said Xavier was bossy, but this man? His gravity evol? His colonel position? CONTROL FREAK

✧ Likely has the biggest “Sir” kink

✧ While I do think he aligns slightly more with booktok Sylus, I can’t see where degradation would fit with their dynamic. You’re the very thing he wants to shield and protect. Why would he degrade what he cherishes?

✧ On the softer side, he’s the type to melt into your touch. There’s true devotion in his eyes (and heart) when you’re making love

✧ On the days where he’s not rough, the sex is more sensual and almost tantric 

✧ Will always find a way to be physically closer to you during the act. Whether it’s putting his forehead on yours, burying his face in your neck, hugging your waist, or simply holding hands 

✧ You both probably cried (happy tears) after your first time. Being intimate felt like a confirmation from the universe that you knew each other more than words could express. There was no trial and error, you just knew 

Sylus

SFW

✧ Hot air balloon rides

✧ Monogram matching robes

✧ Secret fan of game shows. He thinks they’re hilarious— or in his words “highly amusing”

✧ Bought you a birdhouse + birdfeeder for your apartment after he noticed you birdwatching on the last date 

✧ Purposely chooses horror films on movie nights on the chance you’ll hold onto him and hide your face in his chest. He’ll laugh and make some remark about being hurt that you’d use him as a shield, but will hold you tighter and soothe you later in the night when you’re too scared to sleep

✧ Random slow dances. In the kitchen on the nights you make dinner together; in his study while music emits from his record player; in the bathroom, sleepily swaying side to side while lazily brushing your teeth 

✧ Whenever you're holding hands, he often aimlessly draws random shapes on your ring finger

✧ I think all the LADS men have a default position they fall into when getting close or snuggling up. For Sylus, it’s resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s the perfect place to capture your scent plus, he can hear and feel your heartbeat. Of course he’ll playful bite or nuzzle into your neck, but he rests his head there because it’s most familiar and comforting to him and his old dragon form

NSFW

✧ Road head 

✧ Mile high club

✧ Eye contact 

✧ Has a secluded sex dungeon even Luke & Kieran don’t know about

✧ Due to the nature of his job, I don’t think he’d engage in explicit sexting. Too many people on his case and has probably dealt with his fair share of hackers. If one of your messages/photos/videos leaked anywhere, it would be the end of the N109 zone and the world as we know it 

✧ That being said, if he wants to make home movies, it’s done with a vintage film camera to ensure the utmost privacy

✧ More of a grunter and groaner than a moaner. The few times he does moan, is when he’s buried between your legs

✧ I actually think he’d be into role play. He likes how you always keep him quick on his feet in your relationship, and will often humour and indulging in the change of pace. He’d like this even more in the bedroom

✧ Chuckles to himself and humours you whenever you suggest 69ing bc he knows you’ll inevitably just lay there with his dick idle in your hands, while you whimper on top of him

✧ Stamina coach. His methods for overstimulation are twofold. While he loves the state of you withering and coming completely undone, he also does this to help you expand your limitations and enjoy each other for as long as he can go. I already said he’s a pleasure dom, but he’s a pleasure dom with a purpose

Zayne

SFW

✧ Botanical garden tours

✧ Couples ice skating during the holiday season 

✧ Uses his surgical skills to patch up injured plushies [x] 

✧ He may or may not have added an extra rest day or two in your doctor’s note to Jenna so he can spend more time with you. He’ll deny it and insist you need the additional rest, and who better to take care of you other than your doctor?

✧ There’s something about the way he holds your hand that’s sickeningly sweet. Gentle, slightly cool to the touch that warms up quickly, with loving caresses

✧ Surprised you to a dessert degustation for your anniversary. Each dish is a highlight of the standout desserts you tried over the year

✧ Occasional late night strolls along the river. He passively recalls scenes from the western dramas you watch and (successfully) tries skipping rocks

✧ Enjoys exploring artistic outlets with you. Often suggests different workshops to try i.e. stained glass studios, culinary classes, candle making, terrarium building, etc

✧ A bit needy nowadays. To experience a love he never knew he could have, makes him hold your hand a little more tightly, hug you a few seconds longer and kiss you twice as many times as he did before

NSFW

✧ Much like Sylus, he’s also big on eye contact (when he’s in control)

✧ Literally the cutest thing ever when you go down on him. He’ll keep his composure, and lustfully tell you what he wants, but gets so flustered and stuttering as the pleasure builds and he gets close

✧ Truthfully, I don’t like to compare Zayne and Caleb all that much, but the love making between you two is also very tantric

✧ If you listen to the way he kisses you, it’s pretty similar to how he eats you. When completely drunk off your juices, it’s like he’s breathing you in. There’s a desperation to his licks and kisses, feening for the taste of your nectar

✧ He’s also the type to spell out his name with his tongue over and over again. Think of it as a spell. He needs to hear you call to him

✧ Incredibly patient. Foreplay isn’t some tit for tat curtesy thing, it’s important to him. He’s less of a tease and more methodical. "Relax into my arms. No, I'm not bullying you. I need you to come for me again. You should always warm up before stretching, and I don't want to hurt you so please, come for me love. Can you do that for me?"

✧ A stickler for clear communication. You must speak in full complete sentences. It’s not enough to say just say “Please.” What exactly are you pleading him to do?

✧ Slight exhibitionist. He’ll never allow you to get caught, but likes the challenge of finding the quickest ways to cover your mouth— using his hand, tie or lips to stifle your moans

Rafayel

SFW

✧ Hates going in hot springs, saunas, or jacuzzies. He’ll say he feels like a boiling crab

✧ Asked to keep your first completed sketchbook that are filled with many one on one art lessons with him

✧ Can’t sleep if some semblance of you isn’t with him. Will literally drag or carry you to the couch so he can take a nap. You don’t have to nap with him, just lay next to him and stroke his hair

✧ Apart from Moments, you’re the only one he’s following on all socials

✧ Always responds with a stream of texts in all caps and several emojis when you send him a selfie 

✧ His biggest artistic aspiration is to find just the right pigments/colours that encapsulates you. Next is finding a colour palette that encapsulates both of you 

✧ Used to think you were mocking him when you took him on aquarium dates

✧ Your pearl engagement ring was made from the tears he cried while drafting his proposal speech [x]

NSFW

✧ Next to Sylus, he’s a comfort king. Making sure you have enough pillows underneath you during missionary; repositioning you when he notices your head leaning off the edge of the bed; several consent check ins; "my hands aren't too cold, right?"; taking over when your legs start to tire out from riding him, etc

✧ Unpopular opinion, I think he’s the most into period sex out of the five. You really think a MERMAN is scared of the red sea???

✧ Speaking of which, he’s extra sensitive to your scent and the way you feel when you’re on your cycle. Though he won’t necessarily initiate anything 

✧ Has you take the week off for Ebb Day. You’ll need the extra down time and he’s more than happy to spend the rest the week caring for you till you're back in good health

✧ On particularly intense— passionate rounds, he starts swearing/speaking in Lumerian

✧ Pretty gentle with you when you go down on him. He’s usually holding your hair back, softly running his fingers through your strands or caressing the back of your neck 

✧ The biggest tease when he’s eating you out and MEAN about it too. Giggling when you mewl. That annoying "mmm?” when you start to get louder. "Speak up, cutie."

✧ Best stroke game. Ik I said this last time, but I’m dying on this hill. Dizzying backshots, frontshots, sideshots— literally whatever position you’re in, his hips are steady, fluid, and unrelenting

ꨄ︎ A/N: Thanks for reading 🤍 these lists were a bit harder to make this time ngl. Quite a few bullets from pt. I are now canon— which I’m happy about ofc, but it made it harder to bounce around new ideas since there’s fewer “what ifs”. It’s probably best to end this series here tbh. But I’m definitely open to different content suggestions to post next!

[x] - denotes credit for headcanon inspo.

⤠ dividers by saradika-graphics & anitalenia

[purinrei]

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ RED FLAG

⋆˚˖ wc. 2.3k+ ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ p. sylus x fem!reader ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ nsfw mdni

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cw: heavy degradation, dom!sylus, overstimulation, choking, face-fucking, rough handling, light pain play (spanking), power dynamics, sylus being a menace, explicit language, and intense tension.

this may or may not be cannon, I’ll let you decide..

y’all I know it’s a little repetitive.. i wrote it, also lowercase is intended, the caps were making me angry to type so I js did it in all lowercase. Happy reading

the fight started like it always did—sharp words, frustration burning in your chest, and sylus standing there like he had all the time in the world.

“you don’t get to decide things for me, sylus!” your voice cracked as you glared at him, fists clenched at your sides. “you disappear, you throw yourself into danger, and I’m just supposed to be okay with it?”

sylus exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded and unreadable. “kitten,” he drawled, “i handle things my way. you knew that from the start.”

“you don’t handle things, you shut me out!” you nails dug into your palms, frustration twisting into something raw. “you act like nothing matters, not me, not what I think, not what happens to you—”

sylus was on you in an instant, his hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“careful,” he murmured, red eyes burning into yours. “you’re starting to sound like you think you can tell me what to do.”

your breath hitched, your body tensing, but it wasn’t fear keeping you still—it was him. that steady, unshaken control that wrapped around you like a vice.

his thumb brushed your lip, slow and deliberate. “you’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, tilting his head. “all bark, no bite.”

you tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“you piss me off,” you snapped, but the heat in your voice wasn’t just anger anymore.

sylus smirked. “that so?” his fingers traced along your jaw, his touch featherlight, mocking. “then why are you still standing here, kitten?”

because he knew.

knew how to unravel you. knew that every sharp word, every push and pull, only made you want him more.

and worst of all? he knew you liked it.

your silence made his smirk widen. “that’s what i thought.”

his other hand skimmed down your waist, slow, lazy, like he had all the time in the world. his fingers trailed lower, playing with the waistband of your shorts.

your breath hitched. “sylus—”

“you’ve got a real mouth on you,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “maybe I should put it to better use.”

before you could react, he was sinking to his knees.

your heart slammed against your ribs. “wait—”

“why?” his hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place as he looked up at you through thick lashes. “scared you won’t be able to stand once I’m done with you?”

your stomach flipped. “sylus—”

he chuckled, dark and low. “that’s cute.”

then he hooked his fingers into your shorts and yanked them down.

you gasped as the cool air hit your skin, but sylus didn’t give you time to react. he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, his teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver.

your hands flew to his shoulders, trying to keep your balance as he nudged your legs further apart.

“already trembling,” he mused, pressing a hot kiss against your clothed core. “and i haven’t even started yet.”

you whimpered, your fingers tightening against him.

Sylus clicked his tongue. “what happened to all that fire, kitten? just a minute ago, you were so eager to put me in my place.”

his teeth grazed against the thin fabric, a teasing pressure that made your legs shake.

“you—” your voice broke as he dragged his tongue over the soaked fabric, slow and deliberate.

“me?” His breath was warm against you. “i think you meant please, sylus.”

you swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation.

he exhaled, amused. “suit yourself.”

then he pulled your panties aside and licked a long, slow stripe through your folds.

your whole body jerked, a choked moan slipping past your lips.

sylus groaned against you. “sweet as always,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

his grip on your thighs tightened as he buried his face between them, licking into you with a slow, torturous precision.

your head tilted back, a breathless whine escaping you.

he hummed in approval, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. “look at you,” he murmured between lazy strokes of his tongue. “falling apart already.”

you gasped as he sucked lightly on your clit, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“s-sylus—”

“you taste desperate,” he mused, his fingers digging into your thighs. “like you’ve been waiting for this.”

youYou had, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying it.

he smirked against you. “still holding out?” his tongue flicked over your clit, teasing, taunting. “i can be patient, kitten.”

you whimpered, your thighs trembling around his head.

sylus chuckled darkly. “or maybe i should just keep you like this. weak. shaking. begging.”

your pride shattered. “please,” you gasped. “sylus, please—”

his grip tightened. “that’s better.”

then he pressed his tongue flat against your clit and devoured you.

your knees buckled, a broken cry ripping from your throat as pleasure slammed into you.

sylus groaned against you, drinking in every sound, every tremble, every sharp gasp.

and just when you thought you’d finally tip over the edge—he stopped.

a whimper tore from your lips. “no—”

sylus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, red eyes gleaming with amusement. “you don’t get to cum yet, kitten.”

you stared at him, still shaking, your breath uneven. “you bastard—”

he laughed, slow and dark. “you’re so cute.”

then he flipped you onto the couch, pinning you beneath him with ease.

“you really think you get to tell me what to do?” his fingers slipped between your legs, sliding over your soaked folds. “look at you. dripping all over my fingers. desperate. pathetic.”

you whimpered, your body arching into him.

sylus smirked, pressing his lips to your ear. “now, let’s see how much you can take before i finally fuck you.”

sylus had you right where he wanted you.

pinned beneath him, legs spread, your body still trembling from the way he’d devoured you—only to stop just before you could fall apart.

you whimpered, your nails digging into his arms. “sylus—”

he smirked, red eyes gleaming as he tilted his head. “that’s not my problem, kitten.” his fingers trailed along your thigh, light, teasing. “you should’ve begged sooner.”

your hips bucked against him, desperate for something, but sylus only clicked his tongue.

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “still so needy. you just don’t learn, do you?”

his fingers traced lower, skimming over your soaked entrance but not pushing in. just hovering, making you squirm.

“you’re dripping,” he mused, as if you were the one at fault. “and all for me.”

you whimpered, your breathing uneven. “please—”

sylus exhaled, pleased. “better,” he murmured. “but not good enough.”

then he slapped your soaked cunt.

you gasped, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the sting shot through you—sharp, sudden, and so good it made your body jerk.

sylus chuckled darkly. “that got your attention.”

you trembled beneath him, your legs weak as he slid his fingers between your folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles around your entrance.

“such a mess,” he murmured, almost mockingly. “all that fight, all that attitude—just to end up like this. weak. helpless.”

his fingers dipped in, barely, before pulling back out, teasing you mercilessly.

you let out a choked whimper, your nails raking down his arms. “sylus, please—”

“please what?” His voice was a purr, smooth and taunting. “use your words, kitten.”

you swallowed hard, your pride warring with your desperation.

sylus sighed, clicking his tongue. “still stubborn?” his fingers slid in—just enough to make you moan—before withdrawing again. “maybe I should just leave you like this.”

your eyes snapped open in panic. “no!—”

he smirked, amused by how quickly you broke. “then say it.”

your pride shattered. “please,” you gasped. “please, sylus—f-fuck me, use me, just—just do something—”

sylus groaned, his fingers tightening around your waist. “good girl.”

then he slammed two fingers inside you.

your back arched instantly, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as he curled them, pressing right against that spot that made your legs shake.

“fuck,” sylus muttered, watching your reaction with dark satisfaction. “took you long enough.”

his fingers pumped into you, slow but deep, dragging along your walls with calculated precision.

you whined, your body writhing beneath him.

“that’s it,” he murmured. “whine for me. let me hear how pathetic you sound when I fuck you with my fingers.”

you gasped, your nails scraping down his arms as his pace quickened, his fingers fucking into you so deep you could barely think.

hell, you could barely form words, your moans spilling out in ragged, broken gasps as he fucked you open with his fingers, stretching you, making sure you felt every inch.

“look at you,” sylus murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “so dumb. so fucking wet.”

his fingers curled, hitting that spot again, making you cry out.

“you gonna cum?” he taunted. “gonna soak my hand like the needy little thing you are?”

you nodded frantically, your breath hitching. “please—”

sylus chuckled, low and dark. “too bad.”

then he pulled his fingers out.

a broken whimper left your throat, your body trembling as you were left aching, so close, so close..

sylus brought his fingers to his lips, his red eyes never leaving yours as he licked them clean.

you shuddered.

his smirk widened. “you taste fucking perfect.”

then he was pressing you back down, his body covering yours, the heat of him making you whimper.

his hand slid between your legs, teasing you with the tip of his cock, rubbing against your entrance but not pushing in.

“you want it, kitten?” his voice was silk, smooth and taunting.

you nodded, your hands clutching at him. “mhm—”

sylus hummed. “i dunno,” he mused, dragging his cock against you, making you feel how thick he was. “you’ve been pretty fucking bratty tonight.”

you whimpered, trying to press down, to take him yourself—

sylus grabbed your hips, holding you still.

“ah, ah,” he tsked, his grip bruising. “not until I say so.”

tears pricked at your eyes from the need. “sylus, please, i—i need it, i need you—”

his lips curled into a smirk, his red eyes gleaming.

“that’s better,” he murmured.

then he pushed in.

slowly.

your breath hitched, your back arching as he stretched you inch by inch, making you feel every part of him.

sylus groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “fuck, you’re tight.”

you gasped, nails digging into his back as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

sylus leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “you belong to me, kitten.”

you were a mess.

your body trembled, your breath shaky, your skin burning with overstimulation. sylus had already dragged you through wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you whimpering beneath him, barely able to keep yourself upright. but he wasn’t done with you yet.

his red eyes burned as he watched you—ruined, desperate, still needing more. his smirk curled, sharp and teasing.

“look at you,” he muttered, his grip tightening around your waist before dragging his fingers up your body, stopping at your chin. he tilted your face up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “you’re wrecked, kitten.”

you gasped as he pulled away completely, your body aching at the loss, a desperate whine slipping from your lips.

sylus chuckled, dark and low. “dont pout.” his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging sharply as he guided you down onto your knees. “you know what to do.”

you barely had time to breathe before he pressed himself against your lips. you opened for him, letting him slide inside, your tongue curling around him as you hollowed your cheeks.

“fuck,” sylus groaned, his head tipping back for a brief moment before his red eyes dropped to you again, his grip in your hair tightening. “that’s it—take me in.”

he didn’t let you set the pace. his hand held you there, guiding your movements, forcing you to take him deep. you gagged, your throat tightening around him, and he grinned.

“you love this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice thick with amusement. “on your knees, drooling all over me. so fucking desperate to be used.”

you moaned around him, your hands gripping his thighs, your nails digging into his skin. he groaned at the sensation, his pace quickening, his pleasure unraveling—

but then his free hand slid between your legs.

your whole body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping around him as his fingers found your slick, already sensitive from everything he’d done to you before. but sylus was relentless, two fingers sliding in with ease, curling just right—

your eyes rolled back, a muffled whimper escaping your throat.

sylus chuckled, his smirk sharp. “oh? you weren’t expecting that?” his fingers thrust deep, his pace perfectly matching the way he fucked into your mouth. “you’re so easy to play with, kitten. so fucking responsive.”

you trembled, pleasure coiling tight in your core. his fingers were ruthless, pressing against that perfect spot inside you, dragging you higher and higher—

“you better cum before I do,” sylus warned, his voice dark, amused. “or I won’t let you.”

your entire body tensed, your release hitting you hard, pleasure crashing over you as you came undone around his fingers. you gasped, whimpering against him, your thighs shaking—

and sylus groaned, his grip tightening in your hair. “dont spill a fucking drop.”

he thrust deep, his release spilling into your mouth as you swallowed around him, your body still trembling from your own orgasm.

he watched you, red eyes sharp, his fingers still buried inside you, dragging out every last aftershock before finally pulling away.

but he didn’t let go of you.

his fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up. “open your mouth.”

you did, your lips parting, tongue out, showing him you’d swallowed everything.

sylus smirked, pleased. “good girl.”

his fingers brushed over your jaw, his voice dropping into something lower, more dangerous. “if you hadn’t—” he chuckled, thumb dragging along your swollen bottom lip. “i would’ve had to teach you a lesson.”

and the look in his eyes told you he meant it.

© purinrei 2025, pls don’t steal, edit / translate, or repost my works on other platforms without asking. thank you pookies

[navillee]

Caleb as a sub - an introduction Pt. II

Now let's talk about Caleb slowly losing his mind, daa time and colonel Caleb.

It was because he missed the old times. That's what he told himself. That was the excuse he was holding for his dear life when he did it for the first time, and he told himself again when he repeated the humble act of giving you the favour of doing your laundry;

The door of your room wasn't completely close to him. Caleb just knew he couldn't enter that place with the same frequency as he did as a child. You two grew taller, unable to share the small bed from the shared bedroom, and somehow, as the hormones creeped in, you two also grew somehow distant;

Caleb felt like a dog trying (and unable to) fit it's old dog house, able just to fit part of his body inside the puppy's antique favorite place but failing to fit the rest;

And he misses it so much. That's why stealing some of your clothing itens was a totally justifiable action;

There's nothing malicious on that. Just holding on some shirts or hoodies to sleep. Pieces you wouldn't mind, that you wouldn't miss in such a short period of time;

Sharing a bed with you became nearly impossible. Not only physically but mentally. Caleb also felt like stepping on thin ice. He couldn't understand exactly why at the time;

So he just dragged it to his room and hide it under the pillow, the blanket or even in the drawer. That's it. He wanted to be a pilot, he needed to keep his grades up high and for that, he needed an well rested night and he only could get a goodnight sleep if he felt relaxed enough to do it. You see? That's a justifiable and noble reason to borrow your clothes;

And it worked like magic. Caleb is having a rough week of tests and kept studying until late hours? He just need to nuzzle the fabric of your hoodie and let the scent on it bring back sweet innocent and happy memories from his childhood. It's her fault. Was the affirmation he said repeatedly on his head before drifting away to his dreams;

You pavloved him just like a puppy. Your scent was relaxing, always accompanied with scalp scratches and a soft steady breathing rhythm. There Caleb could finally rest, assured you are safe with him;

He kept that secret alongside a list of others as long as he kept living there, and even after getting to work at DAA;

When he started with this mania, you always thanked him for doing your laundry, and the small praise was enough for him to keep doing it. That's nothing wrong with that, it was just nostalgia engraved on his bones showing how to deal with stress;

His mind stoped worring about the future, about how he would provide to sustain a house for you and grandma. He was back to worry about simple things again, like what kinda of recipe he could try to impress you out;

Back to the days where praises slipped out your mouth so easy, leaving his body tingling near his nape, a heavenly sensation that's so rare now, since you didn't mind to praise him that much now that you're a grown-up. So it wasn't a problem at all to just want to return to that safe space inside his head again, right?

Until he dreamt about you. A different dream from the usual ones. Then, it turned into a problem;

It was around the proximity of DAA's examinations period. He was so stressed out, he could swear there was two of him inside his head: one craving for your presence and your comfort and another one picking on you over nothing because your mere presence was enough to trigger a series o buttons in his head he didn't want to admit you were able to;

It wasn't impressively erotic nor explicit. He was just trying to solve a question from a DAA's mock test when you suddenly entered his room saying that he needed to take a break from overworking his brain. He tried to ignore it when you got closer to him, but the moment you cupped your hands on his face, his attention turned entirely on you. You leaned towards him, sitting comfortably on top of his lap, inches away from his lips, so damn tempting. "Stealing my clothes but avoiding me? Didn't knew that on top of being a pervert you're such meanie, Caleb."

He opened his eyes feeling dizzy. Was his mind going nuts? Is that what a examination preparation should be like? He was sweating all over the bedsheets, all heavy breathing and oh. Oh no...he got hard?

He couldn't believe himself, no. That was just a normal body reaction in the morning for guys his age, right? Nothing to do with you on top of him, calling him pervert;

He needed a cold shower, he needed to throw his own brain inside the washing machine and let it there until that scenario in that dream was totally vanished;

Caleb got successful with the cold shower. He failed right after spotting a small piece of fabric before throwing his clothes inside the washing machine;

He didn't know exactly how that escalated, but he ended up stealing your panties from that day on. He promised it was only that time, but when he sniffed it for the first time after and entire day of study/self blaming he absolutely loses it to the core;

That's how he passed the DAA'S examinations. It doesn't matter how tired he was during the time his days were filled with only studies. His reward was to get on his bed and bury his nose into your stolen panties. He was at cloud nine and he couldn't deny himself that any longer;

He tried to deny and hide at all costs during all those years, but he was a pathetic loverboy for you, and denying it any longer was absolute torture;

He fucked up his sleeping schedule because that twist obsessed head of his had memorized (almost) every inch of you, and Caleb refused to stop until he started getting dry orgasms;

That when when he muffled his moans and pleas with the fabric, otherwise, when he wrapped your panties around his cock and pumped it, hissing and throwing his back back, he didn't stop until he get all the fabric soaked wet with his cum;

And how it pleased him knowing that at some point of the upcoming week you would use that underwear again. He dared that if any bastard tried touch you, they would know that someone who's way better is disposable for you at home at any time you ask for;

That's when his bad humor (pent-up energy) gave you a break, and he started to be the nice attentive precious Caleb of always. Not the study-driven guy living under the same roof as you;

It was also a way of showing you he also felt ashamed of his actions. Caleb blamed himself a lot, divided between how you saw him and how head over heels he was for you;

So when he left to stay at DAA was a relief as much as it was a punishment;

That dog tag you gave him showed itself useful. He used it as a gag whenever he couldn't help but touch himself, and the underwear he stole from the last visit at home already lost your scent;

He had to bite on the apple charm of the necklace because if he didn't, the soft tinkle of silver could be heard coming from his chambers, the bathroom or any other corner he found if he was needy enough;

He adores that gift of yours. Keeping girls away while feeling owned;

He's a easygoing colleague by general rule. But their colleagues learned to not mess with him after how a prank they pulled on Caleb ended. Caleb never, and I mean, never removed that necklace from his neck. His roommates knew that he was near just because the sound of the two silver charms colliding against each other as he walked by;

So when DAA's periodic medical examination happened, they somehow got their hands on the necklace;

Caleb almost went crazy, he searched everywhere, planes, take off field, headquarters. He was on edge. When he realized that a group of his colleagues were finding the whole situation funny, he snapped, holding one of them by the uniform's collar with a death glare. After Caleb threatened to make this an everyone's problem snitching them to superiors for spoiling itens, his necklace was magically back into place before night time. And they never questioned about Caleb's dog tag ever again;

That's why years later that necklace would be used as his day collar. He already felt like being collared after all, so he just asked to keep using it. That piece of jewelry is sacred to him;

Only after years of yearning and looking you from afar (CCTVs) when you finally get reunited is that Caleb shows off that side for you. He's tired of hiding;

It's when you cupped your hand on his face and he nuzzles it again, like he used to do when both of you were kids that he felt back again inside that (now) inexistent old room. Realizing that it wasn't the bedroom itself bringing him comfort, but you;

At first he'll try to get praises out of your mouth, but if you don't, he'll just bring them out. He's eager to serve and protect you, but the waiting got him to way needy, and that makes him use his tools in order to get what he desired for so long;

He's a provocative service sub. Caleb will challenge you and tease you until you put him into the place he dreamt about during all this time: back to your arms, and praises and comfort;

Fuck his high position as the fourth fleet colonel once he got there. If you wanna step on him do it, but do it lovely, he's your golden summer boy, the remaining part of his brain is so very dedicated to keep you at all costs;

Be roughly gentle with him;

All the memories and dirty thoughts, all the guilty sentences and spring days watching planes flying into the sky. Use handcuffs on his wrists, but when he confesses all his sins, kiss him softly, mark his skin so he won't get able to forget you ever;

Walk him around like a puppy, or outside like a prize. He's such a golden boy, but he's also a show off. Make Skyheaven understand who's orders the deepspace colonel truly obeys;

But at the end of the day, lay down with him on his bed. Let him nuzzle you and finally, after years sleep without any pain. Let Caleb rest assured he's back into that safe place from old days where there's no forever lasting thunderstorms. Because he will do anything for you, he can't be anything other than that. He doesn't want to at all.

[cloudedangels]

A TEST OF CONTROL (18+)

2.3k words. PART 1/? not for minors! shoo! Pt 2 -> here

After being stood up three times, MC decides Caleb won’t earn her forgiveness without enduring some playful punishment. What starts as teasing quickly becomes a torturous test of Caleb’s self-control as she takes charge, drawing out every ounce of his restraint.

(Self-Indulgent and heavily inspired by 2-3 of Caleb’s lines in the cafe)

cw/tags: f!MC(reader), slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, dom!mc, sub!caleb, pilot!caleb, established relationship, teasing, punishment kink, edging, light power play, breath, withheld pleasure, delayed gratification, soft dom/sub, emotional tension, begging, dirty talk, gravity evol, fluff and smut, romantic smut, pining, touch, reward/punishment, kisses all over, oral tease, tension relief, switch dynamics, intimacy, NSFW, dominant/submissive, dubcon (mild), restraint, light pain play (scratching), suggestive language, mature themes, power imbalance, sensory teasing

MC is getting very, very annoyed with Caleb. He's canceled spending time with her twice with “emergency business” for the fleet. And even though when things like this happened before, Caleb tried his best to make it up to her, this time she figured she wouldn't be pleased until he received what she deems as a fair punishment. She sits on her couch, arms folded, waiting and waiting.  ‘I can't believe he canceled two days in a row and still has the nerve to be late today!!’

She flips through channels before hearing light boots and the sound of dangling keys. Then a soft rhythm of knocks follows. 

“It's open.”

She hears the soft click of the door but doesn't get up from the couch. Instead, she turns away and pouts, her head resting on the armrest. The footsteps come closer until Caleb is in front of her face, squatting down to eye level. 

“Hi, pipsqueak. Are you mad at me?” His big pretty eyes look like a sad puppy's.

“Guess.” She pokes him in the forehead with her finger, frustrated at how fast she wants to forgive him. “I was excited to see you. Two days ago, yesterday, this morning…” She scowls.

Caleb tries to hide a smirk at how bratty she's acting, knowing this show she puts on is a necessary and very cute step towards quick and easy forgiveness.

“I'm sorry, cutie,  you know I hate making you wait. The fleet—”

She pushes a finger to his lips before he can finish. “Shh. It's done anyways, no use explaining it again. But… I still haven't come up with a proper way to punish you.” She sits up properly on the couch and turns off the TV, the motion turning her away from him. But not before seeing his somewhat surprised expression.

He comes to sit next to her on the couch and suddenly her head is being turned to him. “Punish me however you like, I'm all yours, pips” She glares at the use of his gravity evol and shoves him onto his back as soon as he lets go of her face. 

“However I want, hm?” She hums.

Caleb lets out a soft “oof” as he lands on his back, laughing under his breath. His arm flops over his forehead like he's fainted. “Ah, Cruel Mistress, striking a defenseless man,” he groans dramatically.

MC narrows her eyes. “You don't look very sorry.”

He peeks at her through his fingers. “Maybe I'm just waiting to see what my punishment is.”

She climbs over him slowly, straddling his hips, and he swallows a bit too obviously. Her hands rest on his chest, steady, firm.

“You made me wait,” she says, low. “You got my hopes up. And you know how I get when I'm disappointed.”

He nods quickly. “You get pouty.”

“And a little mean,” she adds with a smirk, “Don’t you dare forget that.”

“Dangerous combination.” His voice is breathy now, no more teasing. “What are you going to do to me, pipsqueak?”

She leans in close, brushing her nose along his jaw. “You’ll find out. But not all at once. You’ll get it in doses… like I got my disappointment.”

His breath gets a bit heavy. There's no hiding the rises and falls of his chest as he searches for ways of maintaining control of himself. He doesn't touch her, his arms slack at his sides, his right arm hanging off the side of the couch. 

MC looks him in the eyes now, her face centimeters from him, and something dubious lights her expression. She holds his face in her two hands, their breath still mingling softly as Caleb searches her face for her next move, holding himself completely still. Her hips press into his abdomen, her arms across his chest,  her head tilted as she moves his chin down to look at her. “I know what I will do.”

He swallows again his Adam's apple bobbing. “Yeah? What is it, then?” His voice is a bit husky and low, she can almost hear the restraint. 

“Your self-control test is in order, I think.” She whispers into his ear, the action making him shiver beneath her. 

“My self-control test?” He says softly, eyes darting across her face for any sign of not meaning what she said. “Then do you want me to pass with flying colors... or fail miserably?”

She hums, low and thoughtful, the sound skimming along the shell of his ear. “That depends…”

Her fingers trail from his jawline down to the collar of his shirt, brushing barely-there touches that make him twitch under her. Her hips shift just a little, barely, but enough to remind him who’s in control.

“On?” he asks, and it’s a little breathless, a little desperate.

She meets his eyes again, her expression unreadable for a beat. Then, with a wicked little smile:

“On how entertaining your struggle is.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh caught in a groan. “Oh, I see. You want a show.”

MC nods, mock-innocent. “I waited three days. Seems fair I get some entertainment.”

“Then I hope you enjoy watching a man fall apart, your highness,” he mutters, trying to keep still even as her hands dip just under the hem of his shirt, palms warm against his skin.

She pauses, enjoying the tension curling tight between them. “You’re not allowed to move unless I say so,” she adds, brushing her lips against his cheek – but not quite kissing him. “And no evol. If I even feel a tug of gravity...”

“I won’t,” he promises instantly. “No evol. No hands. No movement. Just...” Torture.

She chuckles, finally settling her weight more firmly on his hips. “Exactly.”

His hands clench at his sides, his breathing uneven, and she can feel the tight coil of restraint beneath her like a drawn string.

“I should be mad at you more often,” she muses aloud. “You’re kind of cute like this.”

He closes his eyes with a strained smile breathing softly out his nose in an ironic chuckle. “Glad I can be of service.”

“Good,” she whispers, and leans in again. “Because I’ve just barely gotten started.”

His eyes flicker open at that, dark with anticipation and lust. She sees it all –  how tightly he's wound, how badly he wants to move, touch her, flip them over. And she also sees how hard he's trying not to. Her hands, splayed open, find their way slowly up his torso as she moves her hips, straddling him lower. He bites his lips, eyebrows knitted, breath catching as she can feel through their pants exactly how much he's holding back.

“Take your shirt off, Caleb.”

He doesn’t move. Not at first.

His eyes search hers, questioning, hopeful, desperate for permission, because technically, that would mean breaking the rules. And she's made those rules very clear.

So she just raises an eyebrow. “Huh? You need help understanding basic commands now, Pilot?”

That’s all it takes.

Caleb sits up slightly, just enough to reach behind his neck and pull the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, jaw tight the entire time. She watches the shift in his shoulders, the flex of restraint even in something so simple. He drops the shirt to the floor beside the couch without taking his eyes off her.

“Much better,  good boy.” She drags her palms across his now heaving chest, letting her nails trace faintly, enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth. She's always loved his muscles, and as they flex with tightly bound desire she drinks him in with her gaze and careful touch.  

“Remind me to never upset you again…” he groans, laying back down as she pushes him gently. 

“You won't forget, I'm sure.” She smirks at him, truly enjoying him being so helpless.

“Please, can I fail just a little, pipsqueak?” He begs huskily, almost making her weak enough to forget her plan, but it's not enough.

“No way. Pass this with flying colors like you have everything else, my sweet Valedictorian. Perfect marks. Be a good boy.”

He nearly whimpers and she revels in it. 

“You’re taking this seriously,” she whispers, letting a finger trace the edge of his ribcage, “I appreciate the effort.”

“I’m trying so hard,” he grits, voice tight, strained, barely holding onto control. “You have no idea.”

“Oh but I do.” She grins devilishly at that, leaning in and planting a kiss to his throat. 

He trembles beneath her. His muscles are tense, breathing shallow– but he doesn't move. Doesn't grab, and he doesn't flip her over like she can tell he's dying to. His pulse thumps erratically against her lips.

“Three days,” she mutters softly, breath hot against his throat. “Do you know what that does to a girl?”

“I’m learning,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut like he can’t take looking at her anymore without breaking her so called “rules”.

She leans in again, lips at the shell of his ear. “And if I decide I don’t want to let you pass this test?”

He grunts – wound up, helpless, so full of wanting it cuts through the air like static. “Then I’ll fail spectacularly,” he whispers, “but only if you make me. I'm already on the edge of it.”

She giggles softly, unable to contain how that pleases her. Her hands delicately grace his throat, resting there as she kisses just below his ear, then his jaw, the corner of his lips.  She slides her hands down his trembling body like reading scripture in braille as she kisses his throat (twice), his chest, his ribs… 

When her hands rest they are on either side of his waist, thumbs brushing up and down his stomach. His fists clench as she kisses his sternum, just above his belt, darting her tongue out for a millisecond. He twitches his hands, and in his pants. 

“I'm one move away from failing, MC," his voice is a husky groan as his head is thrown back, hands balled into shaking fists. "Is this a punishment... or...?”

“…Or?” she echoes, voice low, breath warm against his skin. She doesn’t lift her head. She just hovers there, lips parted just above the line of his belt, her fingers now resting unbearably light over his hip bones. The control in her touch is both maddening and deliberate. Calculated.

“...Do you want to keep going?” Caleb’s voice is gruff, harsh with self-control and want. “If you keep going, I won't be… able… to let you off the hook. Even if you claim you're doing… it on a whim…” He's breathless, frustrated, his knuckles turning white with gripped restraint. 

Her reply is syrupy and as sweet as it is torturous. “Shh… Are you forgetting” Another kiss to his sternum... “Who” A kiss to the cool metal of his buckle. “Is in charge?” Her breath hovers below his belt, her mouth centimeters away from his clothed arousal.

“Please…” Caleb chokes out,  desperately hanging by a tight thread of control. 

She lifts her head at this, allowing the word to linger in the air for just a moment before responding with a sweetened smile and a whispering voice. “You sound so desperate, Caleb… I like this… the sound of you begging for me… Music to my ears.”

He groans and it's deep and guttural, pained pleasure wrapped in reverence. His eyes flutter open, just enough to meet hers through the haze of desire and restraint.

“That’s because I am desperate,” he grits, voice shaking. “For you.”

Her lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, satisfaction, maybe. Or mercy, laced with a promise she hasn’t decided to grant yet.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispers, almost mockingly tender as her fingers dip just under the waistband of his pants, but don’t venture further. Her touch is light, barely there, a spark without flame. “And you’ve been so obedient.”

His hips twitch, bucking just slightly beneath her, involuntary, restrained.

“I told you,” he breathes, “I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

She hums again, eyes half-lidded. “Mmm… you almost sound like you're sorry.”

“I am sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry.”

That does it.

She sits up slowly, eyes locked with his, hands dragging up his sides as she speaks.

“Good. Because only good boys get what they want.” A beat. “And you’ve been so good for me.”

He barely has time to exhale before she leans in again, this time with intent.

And then, all at once, she kisses him hard, pushing him flat against the couch again as the dam of tension finally, finally snaps. His hands rise, cautiously at first, then urgently, moving to grip her waist, as he grounds himself in the fact that yes, finally, the test is over.

She moves to unbutton his pants and undo his belt,  pulling it out of his pants and tossing it to the floor with a clank. Suddenly, Caleb's evol is hovering her above him, suspending her in air until he flips their positions. 

He's lifted up above her his hands and buff arms on either side of her head. “I might… fuck” he kisses her collarbone while moving one arm to take off her shirt. She lifts her arms as he pulls it up and off her, and the fabric joins his on the floor.

“You might what?” She asks him, her voice cracking with anticipation.

He bites her neck, drawing a mangled moan from her at last. He's breathing like an animal and already damp with sweat. “I might have… run out… of self control.” 

“You earned it… do your worst– and don’t make me wait for it.” She mutters, gripping him tightly. Knowing that with him, she always gets what she wants. One way or another.

[neonbonded]

Oops! All edging

♡ ft. love and deepspace men x fem!reader ♡ cw: edging, mouth covering, overstimulation, crying, possessiveness, 18+ ♡ a/n: five different flavors of filth, one shared goal — break you slowly and make you love every second. if anyone knows the source of the pic I used, please dm me so I can credit! it’s been sitting in my phone for years now 🥺

Xavier — Quiet hands, loud need

It starts slow. It always does with him. Soft kisses. Patient fingers. A murmured “lie back for me, sweetheart” in that low, tired voice like he has all the time in the world.

You try to stay still. You do. But his fingers stroke deep and slow—two, then three—and your hips lift off the mattress like they’ve got a mind of their own.

“Xav—” “Don’t talk.” “But I—”

He cuts you off with his palm. Gentle but firm. Hand over your mouth, thumb dragging over your cheek as his pace slows even more.

“Too loud,” he murmurs. “What if someone hears you like this? All soaked and begging for it?”

You whimper. Your walls flutter. You clench around nothing when he pulls his fingers out again.

He does it four times.

Four times he brings you to the edge of orgasm and then stops—pulling away, watching your lip tremble under his hand.

“You’re so close,” he breathes, kissing your temple. “But I want you to feel it mean something.”

Your eyes fill with tears. Not sad ones. Desperate ones.

“One more,” he says. “Give me one more cry and I’ll let you fall apart.”

And when you do?

He slides inside you so slow, so deep, your back arches off the bed. His hand stays over your mouth. Your scream gets swallowed.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Take it. Just like that.”

Zayne — The doctor will see you now

You were the one who started it. Straddling him while he worked, rocking your hips against his thigh like a brat, whispering “you’re always so calm, doctor. don’t you want to ruin me?”

He lets it go. For a minute.

And then?

He grabs your waist, flips you onto the exam table, and slides your panties down with slow, surgical precision.

“You want ruined?” he says, expression unreadable behind those glasses. “You’ll wait for it.”

And you do. For so long.

His fingers are relentless—pressing into you slow and deep, curling with clinical focus, rubbing your clit just enough to make your breath catch—only to stop when your legs start to shake.

“Too soon,” he mutters, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You cry so easily. So messy already.”

You sob. His hand moves up. Covers your mouth.

“No one wants to hear how needy you are,” he says, voice low. “Be good. Be quiet. You wanted this.”

He holds you there—pinned and pulsing, trembling on the edge again and again, his palm muffling every whine and gasp as your body begs to come.

You nod frantically. Tears spill down your temples.

“That’s better,” he whispers, finally pressing his fingers just right, just fast enough. “Now stay quiet while I let you fall apart.”

And when you do? When you scream against his hand, hips stuttering, whole body arching off the table?

He finally groans.

“That’s my girl.”

Rafayel — Cutie, you’re gonna cry for me

“You’re being dramatic,” you snap, panting, legs trembling.

“You’re being loud,” he purrs.

Rafayel’s got you on your back in his studio chair, legs thrown over the armrests, shirt bunched under your arms, face flushed from the third time he’s pulled his fingers away just as you were about to fall.

“Just admit it,” he says, painting lazy circles around your clit. “You love when I tease you like this.”

You glare. He leans in. Grins.

“You gonna cry about it?”

You open your mouth to argue—he covers it immediately, palm pressed over your lips, thumb brushing your cheekbone like he’s drawing you in charcoal.

“No, no, cutie. You don’t get to be loud when you’ve been so bad.”

His fingers thrust back in—deep, slow, curved just right. Your scream gets muffled against his hand. He moans.

“That’s it. That’s the sound I wanted,” he groans. “You’re such a mess for me.”

You squirm. Your hips twitch. You’re begging behind his hand.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he whispers against your neck. “Then let me hear that gorgeous cry one more time. Just for me.”

You do. You break like wet paint, sobbing into his hand as your orgasm finally slams through you—shaking, twitching, ruined.

He kisses your forehead like you didn’t just scream his name into his palm like a prayer.

“You’re my favorite masterpiece.”

Sylus — You were warned to stay quiet

“Keep your voice down.”

That was your only warning.

But now? Your back’s arched off the bed, thighs trembling around his hips, and you’re moaning loud enough for the entire Onychinus compound to hear.

Sylus tuts above you, voice low and dangerous.

“Didn’t I say be quiet?”

You open your mouth to answer—his hand clamps over it.

Not gentle. Not sweet.

Firm. Inevitable. His.

“No,” he growls. “You don’t get to talk. Not after you’ve been whining like a needy little brat every time I pull away.”

Because he has. Again and again. Thrusting deep just until your eyes roll back—then stopping. Fingering you slow, soft, cruelly perfect—and then pulling away when your whole body tightens.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmurs, palm muffling your gasps as his fingers return—slow and steady, curling inside you, thumb working your clit like a weapon. “Getting edged like a toy. Crying for it.”

You sob into his hand.

He grins. Leans down to whisper against your ear.

“You’re going to cum when I say so. Not before. Not after. And you’re gonna take it like the filthy little thing you are.”

You nod, frantic.

“Good girl.”

And when he finally lets you go? Lets you come with his hand still over your mouth, your scream breaking behind it— He doesn’t stop.

He just keeps going.

“I warned you,” he pants. “Now you get all of me.”

And you do. Again. And again. And again—until you’re boneless, wet, ruined, and trembling in his arms while he kisses the tears off your cheeks like they belong to him.

Caleb — You sound too good and it’s making him crazy

He didn’t mean for it to go this far. It started slow. Sweet. His hands on your thighs, his voice soft, coaxing you open under him.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, kissing your knee. “You’ve been waiting for me, huh?”

You were. And now you’re loud. Arching off the bed. Whining. Begging.

“Caleb—please—Caleb—”

And that’s when he loses it.

“Baby,” he groans, voice tight. “You’re too loud.”

He covers your mouth with his hand—not to tease. Not to shame. But because if you keep saying his name like that, he’s going to break.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

And then he starts edging you.

Not on purpose. At first.

He thrusts slow. Deep. Pulls back when you tremble. Stalls when your breath catches.

“Shh,” he whispers. “I need you to hold it. For me. Just a little longer.”

But it happens again. And again. He keeps pausing. Letting you almost tip over the edge, only to slow it back down, kiss your neck, murmur sweet things with a voice so soft it makes your heart ache.

You cry against his palm. Tears spill.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay,” he says, panic flaring in his eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here.”

You whimper again. Try to speak.

“What? You wanna cum that bad?”

You nod, frantic.

He exhales like he’s the one falling apart.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he breathes. “All ruined. All mine.”

And then he moves—harder, faster, still covering your mouth as you sob against his hand, your body coiling so tight it hurts.

“Come for me,” he whispers. “Come and show me you’re mine.”

And when you do—shaking, gasping, soaked and messy and clinging to him like you’ll drown—he kisses your cheek.

Then your jaw. Then your chest. Then your hands.

Still inside you. Still holding you close.

“You don’t ever have to be quiet with me,” he murmurs. “Just don’t ever stop saying my name.”

[rindzaki]

Teacher’s Pet

Synopsis: Yandere teacher Sylus doesn't want you to move to another school. He has plans.

warnings: nswf minors dni. Ftm! Teacher Sylus. Top! Student reader. M reader. Yandere behaviour. 10 years of age difference. riding. unsafe sex. vaginal sex. possessive behaviour. breeding kink. mentions of pregancy.

Have you ever imagined Sylus in high heels? Heels that knock on the floor making noises when he passes through the corridors of the school with a straight posture. In a short tight skirt, down which goes thigh-high stockings that emphasise his ideal leg length. A grin appears on his face when he notices the students' eyes and how they turn around to look at him.

The buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned to his chest, showing his lingerie. He leaned towards your desk, to your eye level. With a smirk on his face, he took your phone out of your hands.

"You'll pick it up after class..."

And quietly whispered: "I'll be waiting for you in my office."

From the first day of his arrival, or rather from your first acquaintance, everything has changed. His presence began to be felt literally everywhere. You started constantly looking at the camera in the corner of the classroom, having a strange feeling that he was watching you. In his lessons, you noticed his gaze, which literally ate you alive.

Sylus began to call you more often. Sometimes he freed you from classes, telling teachers that he needs you. But when you come to him, he just asks you to sit next to him while he was working. There were times when you did your homework in his room. He was sitting opposite. You noticed how he stealthily glanced at you, watching as if he was studying you.

Over time, you found out that Sylus knows all about you. He knew everything from your date of birth to your phone number and address. He knew who you were friends with and who you were in a relationship with. In conversations, he mentioned details that you could hardly remember, but that left no doubt - he knew almost everything about you.

When your grades got a little worse, he offered you his extra classes. He sits very close to you, explaining the topic. His hand gently touches your hip, stroking it and slowly sliding up. Your breath is intercepted, and you feel awkward, but you can't take your eyes off his face. Sylus looks at you with a smile asking if everything is okay with you, acting as if his actions are quite normal for the teacher and the student.

You're not sure how much time has passed, how could you even keep an eye on such a common thing when he is keep going, continues to rise and fall on you. He usually asked you to fuck him, but this time he climbed on you without even saying anything.

His cheeks were covered with pink dust, a slight shine of sweat flowed down his forehead, and these passionate eyes were looking for your eyes, catching every emotion, every moment of ecstasy. You held your hands on his hips, rubbing circles on his delicate skin and from time to time strengthening his grip when he dropped especially hard.

The obscene sound of his hips on yours was heard all over the room. He couldn't hold back. He couldn't hold back a single sound - and given that you were at school, you tried to be careful. You pressed his mouth with your hand, trying to drown out the sounds so you don't get caught.

His hands tightly squeezed your shoulders, his nails dug into the skin, leaving red marks and tearing your name off his lips. You felt a sharp pain, which was quickly replaced by a wave of excitement. He leaned towards you. Your lips collided, your tongues touched when you let your desperate sounds blend into a crazy chorus.

Moving towards your neck curve, he kissed everything, carelessly and wet, leaving gentle suckers all over your neck and collarbone, dark purple marks thoughtlessly coloured in your skin.

"Sylus, I'm c-cumming," you warned him, feeling the tension in your body reaching its peak. He was so passionate about the moment that you didn't have time to put on a condom.

"Inside haa! y-you can cum hngh…! inside...ahh I drank c-contraceptives ♡"

His words only increased your excitement. Sylus slowed down a little when you grabbed his waist with one hand, the other slid down to rub his clitoris while practising your mouth on his nipples, rolling your tongue over the buttons. His hole tightened hard when he cum. Your eyes closed with the feeling, pushing hard a few more times before you also came, pumping him with your seeds. Your sperm covered his trembling walls, and he sighed into your neck, falling from above when you hold each other tightly.

When he said he drank contraceptives, it was a lie. Deep down, he made a decision a long time ago. He knows that his act is selfish and his obsession with you may seem reckless, but all this is the result of the fear of losing you. You lit this fire in him when you said those fatal words about transferring to another school. For him, it was a blow that he can't survive.

Sylus realises that his love for you has gone too far, but this feeling is stronger than him. If he get pregnant, it's the way to tie you up forever, he's ready to take on this burden. In his eyes, pregnancy will be the last way to keep you close, to create a connection between you that cannot be broken. After all, his love for you is so great and sincere that he is ready to sacrifice everything, even himself, so that you stay with him forever.

His hands slowly slide to his stomach, to the womb, he feels satisfaction, as if he was hugging the most precious thing. He knows that the plan was successful. It remains only to wait for the little miracle inside him to begin his development. A little smile appeared on his lips.

[anothermeforcompany]

Another Blurb : LADS Zayne

Due to the upcoming event where the LADS men collectively in feral state, thus born this blurb. Also I want to have LADS men x male character. They are rare and those fine men are too good to pass up. This blurb take place in Catch-22.

Warning : Dubcon, manipulation, torture, my character is not MC!, 18+, description of violence, mention of rape, hurt and comfort, minor do not interract.

Enjoy ~

Many people doubt how a normal man can control a prison for praedators. But it is easier than you think, because when people get poor, they get creative in order to live well.

Tenzin can't afford kindness when the world is unkind to himself. In this dangerous world where praedators get infected by some kind of virus and goes feral, it's too dangeorus to be normal or kind. The only way he can control those enhanced peoples are using a planted chip on their spinal cord. It take away their autonomy and make them obeying his every words. Many says it is inhuman to take away someone's free will, even criminals, and he only done it to willing participant. That's why the Board abolished this protocol in order to keep up morale within free praedators, but they also employ him, the creator of the chip, to be the director of praedator prison to keep the criminals in line.

.

There's a distinct difference between a praedator and a normal person, you can see it from the way they are dressed. Praedator with their enhanced physique can wear whatever clothes they want, while normal person bundled up against any weather. So Tenzin more often than not seen wearing long leather coat over his warden uniform. Running a prison is no different than running a school, those praedators are like brats who likes to test his patience once they got used to their powers. Sometimes he indulges them out of boredom, but he wasn't in the mood today since one of his warden is infected.

The prisioners knows from his look alone that the Director doesn't come to the Block to play, so they keep their mouths shut as he pass. Tenzin walks towards the higher security prison meant for dangerous praedators that either insane or know too much. Zayne Li belong to the second category since he is one of the prison wardens who contracted the strange virus.

Tenzin put in the code before the security sensor deactivated so he can get in the room. It activated again once he's inside and standing over the chained Zayne. The good doctor slumped on the bolted chair, the jagged marks on his face shows he is infected.

"Director..." Zayne lift his head, apprehension in his eyes as he face his own boss.

Tenzin walking towards him, stopping just out of reach if Zayne lunge at him. "Don't bother to lie" he cut off before the doctor can speak more. "I know you got infected because of her"

Zayne snarled as he sensed the hostility, his instincts screaming for him to tear and maul him. Tenzin coldly watching Zayne fighting with his lowering sanity, serve him right for playing around while working. "Do not... touch... her !" Zayne gritted out

SMACK

Zayne's head turned from the slap of leather covered hand. "You're in no position of demand here" Tenzin step closer and seize his chin in his hand, leaning down to look eyes to eyes. His voice is hard as he speak, his grip surprisingly strong. "And since you are one of my prisioners now, it's about time you know how I can keep my position as director"

The restrainst opened with his thumb-print and Zayne spring out to attack. Tenzin is ready as he used his momentum to turn their position and kicked Zayne against the bars. The security sensor light up and sending volts of electricity that makes the doctor scream. Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus watching from their own prisons as the director 'welcome' their newest cellmate.

Tenzin is not a praedator, but he is a cunning man who knows how to use what he have. This prison is his territory and no one can top him in this place. The doctor used ice to fight but Tenzin hardly bothered beyond a slight shiver at the change of temperature. Tenzin fights without honor as there's none if he fails.

The doctor caught, head pushing back so he won't trigger the security sensor. Tenzin won't get caught in the current since he's covered in head to toe with non-conductive material, so it's safe to handle electricity for him. "Aaaarrrgghh !" Zayne convulsing as Tenzin pushing him flat against the bars, electricity running through his nerves like hot needles, quick yet plenty. The fight leaving his frame as he slumped on the director, tears running down his face as he trembles in those cruel embrace. "No more... no..."

Tenzin lift the doctors in his arms, grunting slightly since Zayne isn't a small man. This isn't enough to leave a permanent harm on a praedator but it's enough to teach him a lesson that Tenzin isn't to be messed with. Especially in the Frenzy state where praedators lose their common sense and return to basic instinct. Tenzin make sure every prisioner, sane or insane, knows he is the top.

The director walk deeper into the cell where there's a small cot with thin blanket. He laid Zayne on it and throw the blanket over him. "Behave" Tenzin stated, "And I won't treat you badly"

Zayne nodded, as he knows now not to challenge the director. There's a rustle and something sweet pressed to his lips. Zayne parted his lips at the first taste, his tongue swirled around the orb in his mouth, wearing away the milky chocolate coating. Tenzin smiled in amusement as the doctor closed his eyes as he enjoy the sweet treat.

Tenzin rise from the bed and leave his newest prisioner. He'll have to contact his executor, Nalo, to return soon. That girl have thrown a wrench in his peace by infecting his warden. Councilman Caleb can protect her, but it won't be forever.

.

Zayne have been suffering from frenzy episodes where he fights other prisioners and wardens. They take away his privilege to go outside and put him in isolated ward after he bite off the cheek of another prisioner in the communal bath. The straight jacket and muzzle keep other wardens safe while they wait for Nalo. Tenzin's executioner. He's the only officer aside Tenzin who can deal with SSS class prisioner alone since his power is Void that can cancel praedator's power.

"Director, why are you here ?" the warden that monitoring Zayne ask

"Nalo is occupied with a task, I'll take his place" Tenzin replied before he send away other officers. He step into the isolation cell and activate the security sensors before turning off the surveilance. The room is meant for punishment for unruly prisioners. Nalo and Tenzin rarely use this since the sane SSS prisioners knows not to do unnecessary violence while the insane ones won't even get a chance.

Zayne's sanity level have returned to normal, but he still remember the crunch of bones of the praedator that he bite off. It horrify him, how easy he turned into a senseless monster because of this virus. He keep quiet, trying to warp his head around his new beastly state and because he knows it's useless to reason using his virus. The fact remains he tried to kill another praedator and he knows he deserve this punishment.

Click

Tenzin take off his gloves, standing before the doctor chained to the concrete wall by his prison collar. He crouch down to Zayne's level and reach behind his head to take off his muzzle. The doctor flinch back, looking up at him with puzzled eyes tinged with ridicule. Why would Tenzin wants to take off his muzzle ?

Tenzin poked his forehead, "There's no benefit in being a saint in this hellhole, doctor" he said and insistently take off the muzzle despite Zayne shaking his head. The muzzle is a torture device inspired by Scold's bridle, keeping the prisioner's mouth shut with the threat of pain from the sharp metal shoved in their mouth. However Tenzin knows Zayne well enough to know he is safe from the doctor. Tenzin hold his chin securely as he remove the muzzle. "I'm not blind, doctor"

Zayne curled his body as those words means Tenzin knows. He sees that Zayne was about to be raped in the bathroom by multiple men. Ice creeping under his soles, up the concrete walls as Zayne losing his composure. Tenzin's breath come out as visible smoke as he take off his coat and drape it over Zayne. He close it over the straight jacket and activate the heating mode.

"Cry out, no one is going to hear you"

It's funny how those words would usually makes other quakes powerlessly but Zayne take comfort in it as he cut off sobs bubbling in his throat. Tenzin rubbing his thumb over his lips to release it from his bite and let the doctor cry. The director take liberty to sit by Zayne and draw him to a side hug. He won't push the doctor's boundary more than this.

.

Zayne knows it's late but he can see it now. The director isn't without compassion even though he's a manipulative bastard. He keep prisioners in order and indulge them like an uncle with too much kids. He can be kind, he just chose not to in order to preserve himself. It's selfish but aren't all man like that ? You can't help anyone if you can't help yourself.

Zayne have been feeling weird lately. He would blush whenever he caught sight of the director, usually in passing since Tenzin likes to patrol the entire area in the middle of the day. In his cell, he would dreams of warm coat reek with bergamot and full clothed body instead of dainty hands and doe eyes. Maybe it's the virus, maybe it's himself, but Zayne is going insane with longing for the director he contemplate causing a ruckus just to see him.

One day, Nalo drag back another dangerous prisioner, the elusive councilman, Caleb. Tenzin welcome him like he did to all prisioner with Nalo watching from outside. After that, he throw the councilman to his cot and walking out together with Nalo.

"You're away for too long, I thought you died in a ditch somewhere"

Tenzin pause a moment to stare at Nalo when Sylus calling out for the executioner with sultry smile.

"Not a word" Nalo said as he stride towards Sylus who smiles like a cat with canary. "Strip" he ordered without missing a beat as he open Sylus's cage.

"What happens to 'wine and dine' ?" Sylus said teasingly as the executioner who activated the security sensor behind him. Those men are too cautionous, not even sex can make them let down their guard.

Nalo take out an insulated lunch box from his hip back and held it out to Sylus. "Dinner, then strip" he said bluntly.

Tenzin huffed, shaking his head and left the SSS class cell area. Sylus and Nalo's relationship are none of his business as long as it doesn't affect his peace. He missed the longing look directed at him from the doctor's cell.

What will he do ?

[mapsthewanderer]

Maps headcanons -

🧡 Dom bottom Caleb smut I

Details: 500 words of dom!bottom Caleb energy. Dirty talk, smut, 18+ stuff. He’s so hot fml.

Caleb lets you take the lead. Lies back like he’s offering himself up—but nothing about him is passive. One arm tucked behind his head, showing off the long stretch of his neck. The other hand resting on his own thigh, fingers drumming slowly against the muscle like he’s thinking about touching you, but doesn’t.

“Go slow. Let me feel it.”

Your body moving how you want—but his voice still calls the rhythm. Not loud. Not sharp. Just firm enough that you feel it settle in your spine like a pulse.

Caleb doesn’t touch. His hands stay where they are, flat against the sheets or hooked behind his head—but there’s tension in them. A kind of restraint. Like he’s holding himself back from flipping the dynamic on a dime.

“Don’t look away—I need to see you.”

The ache lives in the way he breathes your name when your hips roll just right. In the way his lips part, slightly open, waiting to be kissed but never asking. In the tilt of his hips that says, you’re the one moving—but I’m still guiding this.

“Go ahead, but know I’ll be thinking about this for days.”

And every time you go a little harder, a little sweeter, a little more daring—he flinches, just a fraction. A stuttered breath. A crack in the armor.

His hand shifts—slides up his stomach, knuckles brushing skin just beneath his ribs—before falling back again like he’s denying himself on purpose. He watches you. Watches everything. Eyes half-lidded, dark and full of heat, but focused. Always focused.

“You don’t even know what you do to me.”

The quiet gasp he chokes down, the way his thumb strokes a lazy, grounding line across your thigh. Every motion is deliberate. Every stillness louder than a moan.

And then his hand moves again. Up to your waist this time, not to guide, but to feel. To know exactly how you’re moving, and how deep he is inside that moment.

“I’ve been waiting for this. For you.”

“I’ll let you have me any way you want—

Just—Don’t. Stop.”

There’s no begging in it. Just power. Yielding as an act of will. The kind of control that doesn’t have to take—it draws.

But he’s falling apart slowly. For you. Only for you. And fuck, he needs you to see it.

That even his surrender is orchestrated.

That even beneath you, he’s still the one in charge.

——————————————————————————

[little-glitter-kitten]

The Colonel's New Crop Part 1

🔗 Part 2 l  Part 3

Prologue: As Colonel, a riding crop is part of the uniform but when Caleb sees you admiring his recently purchased swagger stick things quickly become heated.

Notes: Female Reader, No use of 'Y/N, porn with feelings.

TW: Pseudo-incest, Use of riding crop, D/s tones, Possessive Caleb, Inappropriate use of a riding crop, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, humiliation, use of 'Gēge', Inappropriate use of evol, dacryphilia, clit spanking overstimulation, squirting

You can't help but stare curiously at the smooth leather implement sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Caleb had come home from work earlier in the evening with a new riding crop in hand, claiming it was a necessity for work.

"Scared?" A voice whispered in your ear, making you jump. "You can touch it, you know? It doesn't bite...unless I make it."

You turned your head to watch Caleb, still fully dressed in his Farspace Fleet Colonel regalia, as he came and sat beside you on the couch.

"I just don't understand why you would need one."

"It's mostly just for show, a symbol of authority, but I also use it to signal troops." He replied, picking it up off the table and effortlessly twirling it over in his gloved, long, slender fingers. "The old one was getting so worn, I was kind of glad when it snapped. I was well overdue for a new one."

You felt disgusted to admit how arousing such a simple action could be. It was borderline sinful. Usually, you weren't one to admire a mans hands but Calebs were incredible. Especially in those black gloves.

You clear your throat and tried to get rid of such thoughts. You knew it was wrong to think such things of your own brother, that fact that he was merely an adoptive sibling didn't do much to quell the feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach.

"How'd you manage to break it?" You asked, running your finger along the handle as he held it still in his fingers. "It looks too sturdy to simply snap."

He smiled and ruffled your hair. "That's nothing to concern yourself with, Pipsqueak."

You weren't stupid. You knew first hand that his rank came with some 'unsavoury tasks'.

"Interrogation gone wrong?" You couldn't help but pry. "I distinctly remember you had used one to interrogate me."

"No, pipsqueak." He laughed. "I had one on me but I didn't use it on you. Trust me, you would have known if I did. There's a big difference."

You stay quiet for moment before you curiosity got the better of you. "Does it hurt?"

Caleb threw his head back and gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Well. They're not made for tickling." His laughter soon died down and his face turned a bit more serious as he shrugged. "They are made to hurt but they can also be used to please."

His eyes flicked up to meet yours and suddenly all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. There was something in his gaze you couldn't quite put your finger on...curiosity?...hunger?....lust?

Deciding to take the dive and see where this lead, you asked quietly with a slight tremble in your voice. "Have you ever used one to please?"

Caleb smiled slowly, his gaze bordering on predatory. "I can't say that I have." He rested one arm on the back of the couch, behind your head, the other hand trailed the leather tongue of the crop slowly up your lower leg.

You couldn't help the gasp the left your lips but you keep your leg still, enjoying the feel of the leather tracing up and down your calf.

"Curious?" He asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Maybe." You gave a slight chuckle and looked down, embarrassed.

"'Maybe' isnt an answer." His tone suddenly turned serious as the stroking of your leg stopped abruptly. "I'm going to need a 'yes' or a 'no.'"

"Yes." You whisper quickly.

"Good girl." The hand behind your head coming up to rake through your hair. "Get up."

Slowly you stood up, looking down at him. His feet came up to rest on the coffee table as he made a circle motion with the crop.

"Turn around." He commands. "Slowly."

You turn slowly, your back now facing him as you await further instruction. Looking over your shoulder, you see his hungry gaze looking you up and down.

Suddenly, his hand reaches around you to pop the button and lower the zip of your denim shorts before the fabric is yanked down to your ankles. Your now left standing in front of him in your black lace thong and cherry print crop top.

You feel his large, glove covered hand, run up the outside of your leg, over your thigh and to your ass where he roughly squeezes a handful of the flesh there. As he kneads and caresses your ass, you feel yourself leaning into his touch when suddenly a sharp crack is heard and your bum cheek begins to sting.

He had spanked you.

"Stand up straight." He told you sternly. "Don't move until I say otherwise."

His feet that had been on the coffee table are pulled back  to rest on its edge before its violently kicked away, screeching across the wooden floor.

"Take two steps forward and get on your hands and knees." You step out of your denim shorts and do exactly as he asks, excitement making your breath now come out in shallow pants. "Head on the ground and ass in the air."

Getting into position, your nails nervously dig into the floorboards. You hear him rise from the chair and soon his polished boots come into your field of view beside your face which was turned to the side.

"Excited, are we? We haven't even begun, darling." He coos condescendingly as the silence of the room is broken by your heavy panting. "But, just how excited, I wonder, hmm?" He asks, trailing the leather tongue of the crop along the lace between your ass cheeks, stopping just before it can reach the spot that is so desperately craving friction.

You listen to his boots hitting the hardwood floor as he continues to circle you like a vulture, coming to a stop directly behind you again.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't dreamt about getting you in such a position." He murmurs, quietly. "Now I have you right where I want you, don't think I'll be letting you go anytime soon, kitten."

You feel the crop return to your bum and give two small taps on your left cheek.

"Brace yourself."

Before you even had time to prepare yourself, you felt a slight sting of two blows in quick succession. The first blow landing on your left cheek, the second landing on your right.

He waits, as if waiting to see if you'll ask him to stop. When no such request came he continued. Giving your ass a slight tap in warning before he landed another sweet sting.

It wasn't long before you got used to the rhythm and you slowly push your ass further out, silently begging for more.

Caleb chuckled. "Oh, silly girl." He tsked. "That was just the warm up."

You freeze.

'Did he just say warm..'

"Ahhh." You yelp as another blow lands, more forcefully than the previous ones and without the warning tap this time. The crack of the crop piercing and only adding insult to injury.

You ball your hands under your head into fists, resisting the urge to rub the skin where you had been struck. You could already feel the warmth radiating from that spot where the blood vessels had begun to dilate.

'CRACK' Another sharp blow lands to the other side this time but before you had a chance to catch your breath... 'THWACK'

The skin where you had been struck warms and begins to throb. The throbbing seemed to go straight to your pussy. Your mind racing, your unable to form words so you merely whine pathetically.

"Oh, baby." He coos at you. You feel his leather clad hand run soothingly over the heated flesh of your ass. "Can't take it?"

You shake your head furiously, you didn't want this to end.

"I can take it." You pant. "Please."

He chuckles. "You're not usually one to beg, you must really be enjoying this." As his gloved hand runs over your bum, his thumb traces the edge of your thong, his finger almost grazing your pussy lip.

"Please." You beg once more, unsure of what it is you're begging for.

"Do you trust me?" You nod without hesitation at his question. "Good girl, come here."

Slowly, he brings you to stand on shaky legs. Just as you feel them start to give out from under you, your feet leave the floor and he's holding you in his arms. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and one arm around his shoulder while the other clutches at the front of his coat. You rest your head on his shoulder epaulette as you revel in the feeling and smell of him. One arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you tightly against him while his other hand sits under your ass.

You whimper as the hand under your bum rubs soothing circles, the cool leather a vast contrast against your hot skin.

Your so wrapped up in the feeling, you don't even realised he has walked you over to the kitchen island until he carefully deposits you on the freezing cold counter surface. You hiss at the contact and Caleb let's out a dark chuckle.

Glancing up at him, your breath catches in your throat. His purple eyes bore straight into yours filled with such longing it almost brings you to tears.

"I need you. I always have." He whispers, his voice trembling slightly. Bringing his gloved hand up, he ever-so-gently runs it over your cheek, as if worshipping. "I need you so much it hurts."

Mustering all of your bravery, you lean in, your nose brushing his.

This is all the invitation he needs as he closes the rest of the distance between your lips and let's the flood gates open.

[lazylattedgleam]

Hello everyoneee! This is gonna be Thoughts part-5!

Thinking about a Spoof!: Caleb x fem reader (can be either MC or NON!MC, as one may interpret it)

Ok…

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🚨🚨18+ MDNI (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🚨🚨

TW: NSFW…

Lemon lemon lemon…

Sesbian lex(?).

Fingering.

Eating out.

Punishments.

Mention of orgasms.

Use of pet-names and titles.

Reader and Caleb are both taken to be Bisexual for this fic.

Implied bondage play.

Degradation kink… (use of the word s*ut).

Magic exits in this world of Love and Deepspace. Caleb doesn’t believe in it, but you do.

__________________

🚨If you are uncomfortable with any of the mentioned content warnings or the whole genre of this fic…then please do not proceed ahead. Thank you.🚨

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🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Credits: All pictures have been taken from the net from websites, Tumblr and Pinterest.)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was a long ass day at the Fleet, filled with missions, meetings, surveillances over areas and the Deepspace Tunnel and what not…he was tired, exhausted even…

Plus only a few days ago, he had returned from a 5-day long Mission with his crew…plus the weather conditions were horrible out there that they had to remain on stand-by for almost an extra day and a half…

But right now, that he was back home…he didn’t want to think of anything else but you…only you…returning back to SkyHaven was only worth it because you were there waiting for him all the times…

__________________

The time was around 04:00 in the morning when he softly unlocked the front door to enter… “Pipsqueak…?”, he silently treaded the room, only to see you were long asleep on his bed under covers…hugging the apple plushie, along with a picture of him…He smiled…you were so cute…he wished upon for the moment to never end…

After placing a gentle and delicate kiss upon your forehead, he quietly and carefully, grabbed his usual comfort clothes, which he wore at home from the closet, going to the bathroom to change…

After he was done changing he went to the kitchen, turning on the lights to get himself a drink…maybe he wasn’t too careful…as the noise resulted in you awakening from your slumber…

…

He opened the door to his fridge, when a purple liquid, a bit sparkly, poured inside one of the glasses, filled to half, the brim of the glass covered with an airplane coaster…the ones that you had gifted him just like that, because you wanted to…

Curiosity sparked within him as he took it out…even though it seemed like grape juice, but what grape juice is that sparkly?

…….

You had woken up, from some noises coming from the kitchen…a part of you alert that someone might have broken in, but the other part thought maybe Caleb had finally returned…rubbing your eyes, and stretching a bit, you get up on your toes, gently putting your plushie back under covers, as you treaded towards the kitchen yawning…

“Mmm…mmm…Caleb…?”

“Oh hey…did I wake you up? Sorry…”, holding the glass close to his mouth

“No…no…it’s alrig—WAIT NO CALEB DONT DRINK THAT—”

Too late, he already did.

…….

“Woah woah woah, calm down Pipsqueak, what’s wrong?”

“NO NO NO YOU DRANK IT FULL!”

“You weren’t supposed to…at least not yet!”

“What do you mean…what is in this?”

“Well umm…”

“Poison???”

“Duh no! It’s well umm…it’s a well…a potion…”

“Potion…”

“Yeah, it basically turns people into their opposite sex, I got it from the Apothecary and Witchcraft store that’s located down the side lane at Azure Square.”

“Pips you drunk…? Or did you sleep too much that your brain is still dreaming?”

“Whaaat! You don’t believe me the lady said it will!”

“….yep Im definitely getting a bad stomach tomorrow…”

“Just you wait till it takes effect on you!”

“Go to bed (Name)…”

____________________

The next day when you woke up, went to the kitchen for breakfast right after freshening up…

“Soooooo feel anything different???”

“Yes I feel like I’m cultivating breasts and maybe my cock is getting transformed into a vagina…”

“You know what it will happen! I bet!”

“Oh you bet on it?”

“Yeah 100 bucks by midnight.”

“You’re on pipsqueak.”

__________________

It was almost around midnight, when you called out to him, “CALEB! BITCH COME OUT LETS WATCH A MOVIE!”

no response

So you get up and go to his bedroom…

“Caleb where—”

You walked inside of his bedroom to see him looking horrified into the mirror.

“What the actual fuck! What!”

“Told ya~”,

“Cmon up, pay the piper Caleb—or should I say…Carly~” as he paced around the room, all twirly…

She looked so pretty with her long eye-lashes and her pretty purple eyes…the necklace that you had gifted him, travelling down her neck like a ripple on the sea…

__________________

You eyes roamed all over his—her body, the way her now oversized tee, dropped all the way down to her bust, exposing the fine valleyed-line along her cleavage…the way her long luscious dark brown hair went all the way down to her slick back…the way her curves became ever so prominent…she looked tantalising…and oh lord her thighs…thank the heavens that she was wearing shorts tonight…

Your eyes wandered down to her ass, along the curve of it, then at the front to her—

You bit your lip, you were no better than a man…

Then a thought…an urge struck your mind like a lightning bolt…you quickly take out your phone, opening the camera and selecting the video option. You took out your selfie stick from the bedside drawer and place it on the dressing table, fastening your phone in its clutches as you hit record.

As you walk over to her…

“Pips you’ve got to help—mmf!”

You kissed her…hard, hands trailing down her back in a painfully slow rhythm,

as they reached her ass,

kneading the soft flesh…

making her let out a soft moan into the kiss,

your tongue delved deep inside of the warm wet crevices inside of her mouth…

…..

She tried to take control,

but you wouldn’t let her…not tonight…

as your tongues battled with each other for dominance, resulting in you finally winning…

You pushed her down onto the bed,

spreading her thighs as you knee at her clothed pussy,

grinding your knee against it,

while your head dipped down to marking as many love bites as possible…

Your hands, went down to her breasts,

fondling with them, and squeezing them…

thumb rubbing and rolling over her nipple through her tee…

All she could do was moan and moan and moan…moan out your name…out loud.

…

Your hands messily grabbed onto her tee “Arms up.”, you command, voice laced with lust and dominance.

She followed…like a puppy…

“Good girl~”, you said, your voice low and deep.

Your hands roughly took off the clothing, while your mouth moved down to her breasts, lavishing each one with the perfect amount of attention and care…

Your tongue lapped around her right boob, sucking and biting onto her nipple,

While your hand took care of the other..

“Look at these pretty tits for me…”, you slapped them, hard watching them bounce.

“Ahh ahh P-Pipsqueak! Nghh! More please!”,

“Hmm? What was that Colonel?”

“Please please more! Feel s’ good s’ good!”, your mouth continued its pace and job, determined to fill up her upper body in hickeys…

…

“Not so much of a pipsqueak now am I~?”

…

“Strip.”

She nodded, quickly kicking off her shorts and boxers, to all the way.

“Good girl…are you tired?”

“No…no…can handle m-more…”

You smirked as you went to the cupboard, opening it up searching for something….found it!

It was the pretty pastel pink lacy pair of panties that you owned, but never once used…

“Put it on.”

She did, struggling, as her wet slick stuck to the fabric, creating an irritating and sticky sensation…

“Lay back down.”

“I’m…I’m so gonna…get back at you Pipsqueak just you wait—ahh~!”

You hands slapped onto her breasts, noticing them bounce up and down again…

“You have a big mouth for someone who currently possesses no control Colonel~ But I’ll let it slide…just for this once~”

As you spread her legs, your head dropping down in between her thighs, as your nose rubbed against the wet patch on the panties, breathing in deeply…

“Mmmf…Cal you smell so good…”

She moaned and moaned, her fingers entangling within your hair, her thighs quivered, while you planted hickeys and kisses on both of them at equal intervals…sucking and trailing your tongue up and down the marks.

….

“Nghhh! Pips please s-stop teasing…”

“Patience babes…all comes in good time…”, your fingers continued to play with the waistband of her panties…while your other hand cupped her clothed pussy, pressing onto it.

She groaned further…

“Feel that Colonel…if you can be a bully in bed then…so can I~”

“Gosh just please!”

“What’s the magic wooooord~”

…

“Fuck me…”

“There it is…good girl…”, you slipped off the panties in a slow but steady manner, finally tossing them somewhere on the ground…

“Moan. My. Name. And remember eyes on the mirror, want you to watch yourself pretty girl~”

Your tongue finally lapped round her clit, sucking at her sensitive nub so so sloppily.

“Ahh! Ahhh! Oh fuck! (Name)! (Name)! Fuck so good!”,

Your hair came in the way, should’ve tied it up before, you thought.

Pulling away from between her legs, you reach for your hair tie, pulling your hair up into a neat tight bun, before delving back in…

“Fuck you’re so hot ahhh!”

…….

You continue your slow rhythm, tongue delving into her folds, sucking up her slick while your fingers teasing along her dripping entrance.

Her hands grip tightly onto the bed sheets for dear life, while her eyes close from the pleasure…

You stop the stimulation as she groans.

“Hey hey I said eyes on the mirror…watch yourself for me…watch how sl*tty you are for me Colonel…”

“I see your eyes closed again, I’ll stop and lock you up for the night, cuffed to the bed and blindfolded. Is that understood?”

“Y-Yes…”

You slapped at her cunt, her body jerking at the sensation.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Ma’am…”

“That’s more like it…Now watch.”

She did, barely able to keep her eyes onto the mirror, while you carry on your work…

The rhythm of your tongue unsteady, often times slowing down and then getting fast again. She hated how much she loved that…

“No coming until and unless I say so.”

“…”, she moaned, while you slapped her cunt again.

“Words.”

“Y-yes Ma’am!”

….

You finally pushed two fingers inside of her drooling hole…as she screamed out your name.

“Fuckk…so tight for me babe…look at you…so fucking tight…can’t even move my fingers…you like em so much you sl*t?”, as you pump your fingers in and our of her, quickening your pace along with each dragging motion…

“Look at you taking my fingers so so well…wonder how many you can take…can you take a whole fist Colonel?”

All she was now reduced to was a moaning and withering mess, chanting your name as if it was the only word she knew in the dictionary…her moans filled the entire room up with a melody, you know you could never forget ever again…

It was like a drug…who would’ve known you could reduce Caleb…to this…

You felt pride, beaming within yourself…

….

“Yeah…that’s it…”

“(Name)! OH FUCK!”, she screamed out, once your fingers hit her g-spot…

“Hit the spot huh? How long till you come babe?”

“Ahh! Ahhh!”

She couldn’t answer, she and transcended to another realm of ecstasy and euphoria…

“I want an answer Colonel, else I’ll stop…”

She managed somehow, “s-so so close…close…”

“Yeah? Cmon babe…come for me…come all over my fingers…make them messy…”

As you quickened your pace to the max, hitting her spot at every second….

She couldn’t hold in anymore, she’d reached her high…

She came all over your fingers…screaming your name…

The noise filled the room, as you slowly yet steadily lower your pace, getting her out of her high…

“That’s it…that’s a good girl…”

…..

Your fingers glistened with her juices…

“Look at the mess you made Colonel…what would the other Fleet officers and your subordinates say if they ever found out, what I’ve made out of you…how messy you are in bed…”, repeating along the same lines he always uses with you in bed..

You’ve just changed the phrases and added more flavour into it…

She pants and pants and pants, devoid of her ability to form even a single coherent word…

You tongue lapped around one of your fingers, sucking onto it…

“Taste so good…wanna taste?”

You shoved your other two fingers inside of her mouth, as she sucked onto them, tasting herself on your fingers…

“Yeah you like em, can tell how good you taste can’t you?”

….

You stood up reaching for the blindfold from your dresser…

“Oh but we’re faaaar from done yet…”

“Well I’ll be damned…”, soon everything went as dark as the void in space, for her…

__________________

You gave her a few more orgasms…before being finally done…

“Now that was the perfect midnight snack~”

…..

You giggle, “Can you walk?”

“You think?”

“Pfffffft! Lmao!”

“Seriously? This is what you say after that?!”, she glares at you.

“It’s funny if you think about it Caleb! I mean now you know how I feel!”

“Am I really this mean in bed?”, she gives you puppy dog eyes, and pouts…

“Well maybe…but then you’re again all snuggly and cuddly during aftercare…”

“Will you be the same for me?”

“Of course…”, you pecked her nose…

“But first let’s get you cleaned up!”

“Oh and—”, you whisper to her ear… “Next time…I’m using a strap~”

__________________

__________________

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Bonus: You returned back around noon. He was cooking lunch, as you called out to him in a sing-song voice. “Ohhhhhhhh Caaaaalebbb~”, he turns to look behind, to notice both your hands full with two plastic bags… one contained twenty bottles of that same potion…and the other was a long purple silicone toy…

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🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/N: I have nothing to say…I hope it was alright…thank you for checking it out…

(GIF Credits: Tenor)

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[navillee]

Caleb as a sub pt. 3

Hey, today the blog completed 1 year of existence. To celebrate, here's a headcanon o sub!Caleb

6 words: camping trip to astrophotography with Caleb;

That's when it clicked in his head he was in fact a sub. Not that he ever stopped to think to much about his position atop of the bunch of intercourses of your relationship with him since he became a pilot/colonel;

But don't blame him. He was a way busy dealing with leaving DAA and becoming a traumatized colonel with a bionic arm;

But now, you two got reunited again, and his worries, at least momentarily, seemed to be reduced to only two: morally roast himself about all the dirty thoughts and actions his lover boy brain made him do and fullfil his promise to take you in a summer trip;

So nothing better than explore his hobbies and bring you to spend quality time with him, exclusively;

The promise was made when you two were kids and he went out to a summer camping without you. Brokenhearted for watching you crying, he promised to take you out on a trip, just the two of you in the future;

Even though years passed by, he dreamt about finally fulfilling his promise. Because Caleb always kept his promises when you're involved, because Caleb always remembered each and every detail that involved you;

And he did everything up to the minimum details again, to make it perfect for you. To the home cooked snacks to the comfiest arrangements to make a cozy tent to enjoy a summer's outside overnight;

After setting up the telescope and camera, and answering your questions about how it worked, he finally showed up to you some results. And gosh, how good it felt when you two were just excitedly sharing time again, babbling and laughing like the old times;

Was showing the photo registers of the night (plus some others he did at Skyheaven) that the necklace you gave him tinkled against the camera's visor;

"You still keep it?" You asked. And of course the answer was yes, it was the solo object that kept him sane and alive in every fucking dangerous mission he went. The habit of kissing the charms was nothing but a ritual of promise to come back to you once that nightmare had ended. "Hmm." He nodded. "It reminded me of home."

You didn't need to know he used it religiously nor that he bit onto it when his mind was overflowing with thoughts of you. So he brushed of the moment of awkward silence offering you the snacks he prepared before leaving Linkon;

He knew he could have stopped by any convenience store to buy snacks. But he also knew those couldn't compete with Caleb's delicious home cooked snacks when the praise time was up. He needed those praises. Viciously;

He deserved it, right? Caleb deserves to lay his head on your lap while receiving praises of his chief skills and prodigious memory, but that time, different from past times, you two weren't just watching a science documentary at grandma's house, while Caleb's voice overlapped the narrator's one, but actually glimpsing a starry night;

However, Caleb was unsatisfied, like a puppy waiting for it's reward that didn't seem to come at all;

So he just casually laid down on your lap, both staring the stars, relaxing and enjoying the comfortable presence of each other;

And the soft lines the tip of your fingers traced on his scalp made Caleb close his eyes. The playful banter and the mumbling about constellations now replaced with his soft steady breathing;

Caleb was almost drifting to sleep when he felt a soft touch against his lips, caught by his reflex response your fingertips were kept there, soft kisses placed on your digits, drowsy eyes looking up at yours, so docile and longing yet that deepness in his eyes are hesitant still;

Caleb's eyes were always capable to say everything to you. When he was messing around and eyes slightly closed with his teasing laugh, when he was having a bad day and you could spot it right away just by looking at his droopy tilts;

But Caleb's eyes are different know, showing you a expression you have never seen before. Caleb's was supplicating;

Then you remembered the reason why Caleb used to watch astronomy documentaries resting his head on your lap: you used to say his eyes are prettier than the galaxies;

And those two universes on Caleb's eyes shinned so devotedly to you, that you didn't felt even a slightly desire to look up at the night sky again. No, no when you could dive into those particular galaxies of his. No, not when Caleb is back again, so close to you, showing, even if it was for a few perceptible seconds, his longing for you;

When you replaced your fingers with your lips, Caleb's mood changed like a switch;

He was serene and relaxed, but he got hasty really quick. Don't get him wrong, he definitely flew straight to cloud nine without even needing a plane, but god, he got conflicted;

"I'm sorry! I uhm, I didn't mean to, pipsqueak! I mean, I actually meant to but not exactly...oh fuck what I'm saying right know..." He was almost panting when he pulled away from the kiss. His head was spinning and the only thought he could bring to himself was that the kiss was entirely his fault;

He could swear you leaned first, but how could he blame you when he was devouring you with his eyes? It was his fault to be a bad-whatever-bond-are-you-two-having-right-now;

He just stopped mumbling when you pulled him by that damn dog tag, looking deep into his eyes;

Later on you discovered it was just a matter of assuring Caleb to bring his submissive side out. To make him let go;

And oh, just that pull on his necklace alone made his entire body burn. He let out a little gasp, losing his facade the moment you provoked him;

"Promise to me you will be a good boy, Caleb. Give more of what I know you want to give me, so I won't get mad at you. Can you promise that, uh?"

Next thing you learned was how hasty Caleb is, and how he doesn't seem to lose that desperation over time. The next thing after that is how good he is begging;

"Y-yeah...fuck! Pipsqueak, I promise I'll be good. I can be so so so fucking good, just for you. Won't get mad... I'll do anything to make you proud of me, yeah? Please? Just command me."

Caleb's first time with you was basically an outdoor, messy and quick sex;

Don't blame Caleb for the last one. The man came on his pants at least once even before you two got a chance to remove your clothes. It was just too much for him;

The boy was trembling, out of breath and so hungry for you. So when you watched his body spasming just by rubbing his nose against your not removed pantie alone, you couldn't believe what you're witnessing;

"Caleb? Did you just cum already?"

He would repeatedly apologize with that pussy drunk expression on his face, promising to make it up to you. Nose still buried against the fabric, eyes rolling in pure ecstasy;

And he would keep up with his promise. He turned his pleasure irrelevant, getting down on you, and finally tasting you made Caleb forget everything;

If you try to tease him about it? Oh, Caleb will want more. He's not exactly into being degraded, because he's after your praises at the end of the day. But he definitely enjoys being called out on his behaviors;

That's because he wanted to get caught by you countless times in the past. God, how he wished those perversions of his were discovered by his sweet pipsqueak. Only then he could get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, and cry and be such a pathetic lover boy;

"Oh, fuck. D-do you think I'm pathetic? Do you wanna know how many times I fantasized about this, pips? Burring my face into your underwear pretending I was eating you out? How many times I soaked your panties with my cum calling your name wishing you would see how much you make me leak?"

He would get off confessing it to you, eagerly waiting to be teased about it;

Oh, if you only knew how many dirty things Caleb did in your name. But don't worry, after your first time with him, he would confess the all one by one;

That night, you two wouldn't get sex with penetration;

That's due Caleb not carrying any condoms with him. What? Are you surprised? Caleb never carried them because he thought you would think he somehow got a situationship/girlfriend to hook up with and he didn't like the idea of you coming to that conclusion;

So he implored to be inside you to the point he almost cried, but ended up accepting a helping hand and maybe a long delicious humping session;

His brain turned off. He let be guided to you, loving to discover some of your soft spots. You could feel his slightly trembling hands, together with his needy breaths and praises while he obeyed every single command you gave him;

When he got too overwhelmed after his last orgasm came dry, you two curled up in the tent, cuddling and giggling trying to process the flood of feelings you two shared for each other;

Drifting into sleep, you two promised to figure out how the relationship would evolve from there. But now, the only thing that mattered was cuddling together under a starry night sky. You knew Caleb would move skies to fulfill his promises to you. So why doubt it when he promises he will be a good boy only for you?

[domestictetsurou]

caleb girlies, hear me out... idk about you, but is this how it feels like to finally have a true main LI??

i didn't have any interest for the other LIs at first, but then chapter 4 came... and instantly, caleb was my first love. (as u can see from my username, i'm weak for guys with big domestic energy 🥺)

but then they blew him up. i cried. i grieved him. i continued going forward but i found myself keep rewatching chapter 4 over and over again (i've probably done it hundreds of times by now).... i missed him. i missed him so much, so often, it sometimes feel miserable. only able to hold onto scraps infold provided of him (1 chapter, 1 call, short message...). relying to fanfics and fanarts for comfort... because what else do we have of him?

but now he's here… he's back... we're gonna have more of him.... and i guess the months (almost a year) worth of grief exploded inside me??

i seriously can't think about anything else. the live announcement came with heaps of info but i don't care about everything else. i just want caleb to come home soon.

i want to know his story... how he survived, what happened to his arm, what's with that sad room and his nightmare and the gloomy environment and the holding onto the necklace? (i want to comfort him, the trailer was so heartbreaking 😭)

i want to soon unlock our memories, all the 5⭐ and 4⭐ cards to come, i want them all…. i wonder what experiences we'll gonna have with him...? will we have lots of domestic moments? (i hope we do) and OUR PAST LIVES? i want to know our past lives so i'd understand his perspective and i'll make sure to love him more afterwards 😭

does he still have that kindhearted, caring, doting, reliable older brotherly figure inside of him? will he show it to us in the main story? or will it be full on villainous and angsty? how is he living his life now? does he even feel "alive"...?

this is crazy... i yearn for him so much i have dreamed of him for 2 days straight by now… 😭😭😭 and i think i get why infold released the trailer on friday night. THEY WANT US TO THINK AND GUSH ABOUT HIM NONSTOP IN THE WEEKENDS DON'T THEY??!?! 😭😭😭😭 they know i wouldn't be able to function if they released him on weekdays. 😔

so... is this how it feels like to have your main LI alive? i'm sorry my other guys, but all my attention goes to caleb now. i don't even know why, i just have no interest to even unlock the other LIs upcoming FREE cards, all i need is just caleb and caleb and caleb..... 😭😭😭

[dianaagrotera]

horny thoughts about caleb/mc and how I see their dynamic as seen through a kinky lens (ymmv not trying to squick anyone)

so overall i'm not really into puppy play for caleb. like idk, he's already a pup and i would appreciate him getting fluffy ears to pat (tho i want to put out there that I feel some of his faces also get inspiration from foxes???) - but to me the fantasy of taking it further into the kinky kind of puppy play kind of goes against his general theme of clinging to his human consciousness. there's a dialogue in the game with mc where he says that he considers being conscious as the central element of being human iirc. (sry i'm not the kind of girl that puts screenshot receipts in her meta) His allegorical role in the adam&eve aspects of his myth is EVE, the girl who brought us consciousness and enlightenment and the whole piloting thing is ofc FREEDOM themed. like i honestly generally just don't vibe with puppy play but my understanding of it is that the appeal of it is this reversion to this more simple animal headspace, not having human responsibilities and such things. and like I KNOW that caleb is already canonically "head empty, just mc" and i do kink on wanting him to feels safe and unburdened but I kind thrive on the fact that he's like that while being able to do things humans do. and like caleb is fighting against a chip taking over his brain and body modifications that canonically turn you insane. so like if you go into "let's dip below human consciousness" kind of play i'm not saying it can't be done but that at the very least it would have to be EXTREMELY careful in ways i cannot conceive in my simp state rn.

( .... also I'm gross and vibe more with the kind of play where mc undoes him into this wide open state like it was teased with that ridiculous "peel open your heart" line like my id wants to go more into the direction of pushing him OVER a brink and bringing him back instead of reversion )

i also don't see caleb as masochist in the sense of enjoying the sensation of pain. his sub aspects are really just protection/service and discipline to me. like he's truly that summer golden boy who likes pleasant sensations and wants to live. but it is like he says in painful signal that he'll take it if it's coming from mc just like with eating the dumb wasabi sandwiches. and i do see mc as at least somewhat sadistic because of her lines and actions. and let's not forget that one of caleb's first "get to know me lines" was "take your anger out on me" like PLEASE. like there's this thing where he wants MC to feel safe with expressing anger which could be tied to him realizing that she should be angry at the things that happened to her but isn't due to memory loss. maaaybe there's also some punishment aspect that comes in insofar that he feels guilty for not telling her some things that she has a right to know. like his guilty face in the attic story is insane!!! but overall with him always asking her what she wants and wanting her to take initiative there's a theme of deeply caring about her autonomy (and like his more manipulative and controlling behavior comes in insofar that to him her being alive is the prerequisite for that.)

IN CONCLUSION

why does this random streamer bre understand me but the fic in this fandom is one billion dom calebs i cry

its night2lize on yt his reaction vids are fun if you wanna watch some

[rindzaki]

Bite me

Pairings: Sylus x gn! Vampire Reader

"Please [name]…it feels so good," whispered Sylus, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. He was sitting on your lap. His eyes, full of admiration and passion, looked straight into yours. His lips barely trembled, exposing the tips of his teeth when he repeated his request with hope and despair.

It was such a vulgar and shameless request. The only reason for this was the fact that Sylus always liked the pain you caused him, he enjoyed a slight clouding in his head when you were too rough with him, which made his skin pale and his knees weaker, he enjoyed the fact that you had to hold him in your arms for a while until he recovered. He knew it was risky, that he was playing with fire, but it was impossible to give it up.

Your cold fingers gently touched his neck, feeling the pulsation of his artery under his skin, which made a slight tremor run through his body. This rhythm of life was so seductive, almost hypnotizing. You leaned closer. The smell of his blood filled your senses, awakening in you the instincts of a predator.

Sylus closed his eyes, completely trusting you. You could feel his body relaxing, giving himself to you completely. You knew how much he enjoyes it, and it added spice to your pleasure.

Your lips touched his neck, and you felt his body tense in anticipation. You gently licked a small bleeding wound left by your fangs. Sylus made a quiet moan, but it was the sound of disappointment mixed with desire.

His eyes opened, full of pleas and passion. You slowly strayed away, your eyes met him.

"It's dangerous for you," you whispered, gently touching his face. "You know it "

Sylus tastes too good. His skin is perfectly soft and delicate. When your teeth pierced it, there was a quiet clap, barely audible only to your sharp ears. His blood was of perfect temperature, consistency and taste, every sip was like nectar, sweet and alluring, awakening in you the desire to never stop. That's what made you dangerous to him.

"Please... I know! I know it's dangerous, I shouldn't ask for it, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that. [name]…I will be fine…" - Sylus assured again.

He gently kissed you on the lips trying his taste of blood on your lips. "Please [name]" he repeated again.

It's hard to restrain yourself when he kisses you like this, it seems to be worse than your hunger. You sharply wrapped your hands around his waist, attracting him so tightly that he would be afraid that you would break his spine if he didn't know how much you love him.

You kiss him as if he were all that exists in this world. Your lips faced such force that it rings in your ears. Your tongues are intertwined, their movements are becoming more desperate. He deliberately touches your fangs with his tongue, and the next moment blood fills your mouth.

Your pupils dilate when blood begins to flow through your throat, its metallic taste explodes on your taste buds. You drink it with such greed that you don't notice how drops of blood begin to flow down his chin. It leave scarlet marks on his skin, mixing with his moans and whines, which he exhales directly into your mouth.

You feel how his hands, tightly wrapped around your neck, begin to weaken. Realizing that he is already at the limit, you slowly pull away, gently licking the blood on his lips and chin. His body loses consciousness and slowly overturns back. Moonlight gently illuminates his trembling body, giving it an almost unearthly glow. You watch his chest rise and fall with each breath, his eyes are half closed and his mouth half open.

He looks so beautiful in this state, like a sleeping angel, vulnerable and beautiful. Your eyes go down a little lower, you notice a bulge in his pants and a small wet trail on it…

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