#l&ds smut

[crowfish-brainrot]

Mistakes Were Made Part 1

I was going to do this as a filthy one-shot but then I started writing and realized this is probably gonna be like 30k+ words by the time I finish with all of them, so we're breaking it down in parts. Adrenaline can make people lusty, and that's what inspired this fic. Also, if I was MC, my sexy self would be fuckin' all five of these men until I got into a relationship bc I am weak and they are too hot to not. Soooo, this might get kinda messy, but it'll end in a good (poly?) place.

CONTENT NOTES FOR ALL PARTS: 18+ MDNI. LaDs men x MC (you), Casual Sex, Pre-relationship, Complicated Feelings All Around. Smut & Angst. Smut with Feelings. No use of Y/N. Possibly ooc bc I'm still getting back into fanfic. Oral f&m receiving, p in v, unprotected sex bc its fiction, creampies, softdom!Xavier, brattamer!Zayne, brattyswitch!Rafayel, switch!Sylus, dom!Caleb brattyswitch!MC, but it's all fluid imo. light bond*ge, sp*nking, size difference, overstimulation, improper use of evol, semi-public sex. Nicknames used in all parts: canon nicknames as well as bunny, princess, love, & darling. F reader. MC is described as being curvy and strong with some fuller titties bc I love titties. Possibly MMF if I get to a part 6 Unedited. You get this raw (just like our Lads!)

Xavier (this part) | Zayne | Rafayel | Sylus | Caleb

The first time it happened, it wasn't on purpose. Not really. Xavier was so fucking cute, it wasn't fair. The way his pretty blue eyes got wide, the soft pout that settled on his lips when you did something that made him jealous. How he'd place his hand on your lower back like it belonged there when he led you out of rooms or away from people who stole your attention from him, it was hot.

In addition to that, the man was seriously skilled. His evol was powerful, and he cut through wanderers like it was nothing. After one particularly tough day of battle, you both were a little roughed up. Not too bad, a scrape here and there, but a streak of blood ended up on his face. Gods help you, Xavier was a handsome man normally, but roughed up and messy from a battle? It was downright sinful how good he looked.

After battle, your blood always ran hot. Since you started this job your vibrator got a workout, most days leaving you so on edge you had no choice but to find some sort of quick release. You expected the same would happen after that battle. Yet, instead of telling him goodnight in the elevator, you asked him to come inside you apartment and have dinner with you. He agreed.

So you ordered dinner in, washed up enough to eat, and he did the same. Dinner arrived and you ate next to him on the couch, half-watching some boring movie you didn't care about. Especially not with him so close to you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft and warm in your ears. Unwanted goosebumps danced up your arms, and you did your best to repress the shiver.

"Fine. Just on edge, you know?" You sighed and laid back into the couch. "I'm always a little tense after battles. It'll pass."

He looked at you in that way of his. Bright blue eyes that seemed to already know every secret you had, like he saw down to the very essence of who you were. You, on the other hand, never knew what he was thinking. He was so calm. So stable that your bullshit never fazed him. Like Zayne, in a way. Maybe that's why you liked Xavier so much. That stability and seemingly never-ending patience soothed your nerves and made your mind turn into jelly when it was directed at you. Like it was at that moment.

"What do you usually do to calm down?" he asked.

Gods, his eyes were so wide, he looked too innocent. You wondered if he heard you come before. He was right upstairs, and while you tried to be quiet, the walls were thin. Your heart thrummed under your breast and you tried to come up with some sort of lie that sounded convincing.

"I...uh..."

"Your face is red," he said in that same monotone voice. A little glint of something sparkled in his eyes, but you turned away to hide your burning face.

"I'll calm down in a little bit. I think I just need to lay down." It was a lame cover up. You knew it, Xavier knew it, and so did the thirty-seven plushies in the corner of your couch.

"Lay on me then. We have to finish the movie, I won't be able to sleep if I don't know how it ends."

A lie almost as lame as yours. Xavier could sleep standing up waiting for backup if he had to. Still, when he leaned back on the couch and opened his arms in invitation, you couldn't resist. He was your work partner. You trusted him with your life every day, certainly you could take a nap on him.

His coat was off, and all he wore was a thin t-shirt that fit close to his body. Battle-toned muscle laid under a soft layer of bulk, he turned out to be the perfect pillow. Warm and soft, he registered in your mind as safe on a bone-deep level. You took off your hunter uniform when you went to wash up, and you regretted the short sleep shorts and thin shirt you picked out, because the heat of him seeped through the fabric and burned against your skin.

The rush of adrenaline-induced desire you dealt with after battle didn't ease. If anything, his proximity and the fact he was still partially mused from battle did the exact opposite of help the predicament you found yourself in. You laid on his chest. He used one arm as a pillow, and the other draped over your waist like it belonged there. Distracted, his thumb stroked your side and you thought you'd melt out of your skin you were so hot. Your panties were soaked through, and you tried to adjust every few minutes to escape the feeling.

The third time you squeezed your thighs together and rolled your hips to a more comfortable position, Xavier stilled you with his firm grip. You mewled, like the pathetic little kitten Sylus insisted you were. It was an embarrassing sound, and you hid your face in Xavier's chest, pretending he didn't hear you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you sore?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah," you said, your voice tight. "I'm very, very sore."

You refused to look at him. You reminded yourself all the reasons you needed to behave yourself. Xavier was your neighbor. You worked together. He was jealous of anyone else who took your attention now. You saw him every single day. You were friends. You should not ruin all of that by letting your horny brain make the decisions. Yes, he was handsome, gentle, and lethal at once. Sure, he was tall with big shoulders and strong hands. Yeah, he was probably strong enough to throw you around and his cock was--

His cock was hard. It throbbed against your lower stomach between the clothing separating you. You moved just enough that you felt it, likely why Xavier tried to get you to stop. You kept your head buried in his chest. He said nothing. Silence dragged between you as you fought yourself for mental clarity.

But then he said your name. Breathless, almost a whine. Needy. Your self control left the fucking building. You braved meeting his face, and his eyes were dark with desire. You sat up with your palms flat on his chest. Your hair curtained over your shoulder as his large hands came to rest on your waist. Your left hand slid up his chest, to his jaw, and you held him there, neither of you speaking.

He broke first.

Faster than you could track, he flipped you so you were on your back with your arms above your head. Your wrists were held in one of his hands, and he crashed his lips into yours. You moaned as he ground his hips into you, showing you just how hard he was. Your mind spun. He was so thick, you could already imagine the stretch he'd give you.

He tore his lips away, and you were both breathless. Pinned under him, you had no desire to move. His broad form blocked out the dim light of the movie, and all you knew was him. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, and he kissed you again. More tender than the last time.

"Do you want to continue this?" he asked. His grip loosened around your wrists, giving you an easy way to escape. Not that you couldn't before. You were strong enough to knock anyone who you didn't want touching you on their ass, but the gesture made your heart and stomach flip.

"I do," you said, your voice soft. "Do you?"

"More. than. anything."

He punctuated the words with kisses down your neck. That little voice in the back of your head that screamed "don't fuck your co-workers" went silent as all the remaining rational thought in your mind melted out of your ears. Who were you to deny yourself something you both wanted?

You arched into his kisses and his free hand slid under the hem of your shirt. Big, calloused, and oh so warm, he reached up your side and pushed your shirt up. He let go of your wrists only long enough to pull your shirt off, and then he unhooked your bra. Your full tits jiggled as he removed the garment, and he cursed.

"Fuck, bunny. You're so beautiful." His praise came out with the sanctity of a prayer. The nickname he gave you, something he hadn't done until now, made your cheeks burn. His shirt came next, and by all the fucking gods, you couldn't breathe. He was so good looking it was unfair. How were you ever meant to resist this?

Before you could reply with a sultry remark, his lips were back on yours with your wrists pinned under his palm. He kissed you softly at first, but it quickly grew more heated. It was like he was pent up, so full of need that the slightest touch would break him, and that drove you wild. His lips left your mouth and trailed down your neck, to your tits, and down your stomach.

"Xavier, please I--"

"Quiet," he commanded. "I'll give you what you need, but I need something first."

His voice took on a harder edge. Soft-spoken, meek Xavier was gone, and in his place stood the dominant, deadly, serious version of him you only caught glimpses of. Gods, you didn't think you could get any wetter, but here you were, so wet that even your shorts were soaked through. He cursed again when he came face-to-face with the truth of your desire. He released your wrists and again, faster than you could blink, he slipped your shorts and panties off.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and kissed from your knee down to your thigh, moving slowly as he eased himself in line with your soaking pussy. Nestled between your thighs, he licked from your opening to your clit. You both moaned. His strong hands gripped your thighs, and he lost himself in your pussy. Long, firm licks lapped up all your juices and his nose bumped against your clit in a perfect rhythm.

Pent up and drenched, you were already close. Not that Xavier seemed to notice. He was too busy devouring you to respond to your warnings that you were close, or maybe he wanted you to shatter all over his face. Either way, the wave built until you couldn't hold it back. He moaned as you came on his face, and he looked up at you from between your thighs. His pretty blue eyes bright and sparkling in the low light.

Xavier kissed your still-pulsing clit then sat up on his knees. His belt came off in one hand, and his pants and boxers slipped down his strong thighs. His cock was just as thick as you imagined it would be, and a good length. Big enough to hit all the right places and wide enough to give you the stretch you needed. You bit your lip and shivered as you imagined how it'd stretch you wide open, and your legs spread of their own accord.

Xavier slapped the head of his cock on your clit and you whined, a high-pitched, pitiful sound. He chuckled, the sound just as warm as the rest of him. "I think you're wet enough to take my cock. Do you want it, bunny?"

"Please, Xavier," you whined. "I need you."

"Bend over for me. Hands behind your back," he said.

You flipped around and pressed your chest into the couch, arched your back, and spread your legs. Your hands went to the small of your back. The smooth leather of his belt wrapped around your wrists and he planted a kiss between your shoulder blades.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Tell me if you need me to untie you." Another kiss between your shoulder blades made your heart do the stupid flipping thing it liked to do around him, and you made a simple noise of agreement, not trusting your voice.

He gripped the tail of the belt and held it tight in his hands, pulling your arms back. Restrained, your already lust-fogged mind emptied further, sinking deeper down into the sensations Xavier gave you. His large hand clapped down on your ass, not hard, but just enough to make noise. Your hips rolled back against his, and he cursed.

"What a good girl you are," he cooed. "Fucking perfect. Better than I imagined."

The confession that he imagined you like this was too much for your lust-drunk mind to process. Thankfully, Xavier didn't seem to expect a response from you. He lined his fat cock up with your entrance, then slipped in.

Your moan was muffled by the couch. His cock was so thick it burned slightly as he settled inside you. You hadn't taken anything bigger than your fingers since you started work, and Gods, having Xavier inside you was the best kind of stretch. He started off slow, going in deep and hitting every spot that made your breath hitch, then he slowly eased back until only the tip remained. He continued that slow pace, stretching you out around his fat cock.

Your fingers wrapped around his belt for some sort of purchase, needing something to tether you to the moment. Each slow, luxurious roll of his hips pushed another desperate, needy whine out of you and into the couch.

"Xavier!" you moaned.

"Yes, bunny?" he asked, his voice as calm as ever.

"More, please."

"You need more?" Xavier hummed. "I'm not sure you can take it."

"I need more, please!"

He clapped down on your other ass cheek. Noisy, but not hard enough to hurt and your mind melted. His pace increased from torturously slow to a medium pace, the added fiction against your slick inner walls pulling more needy sounds out of you. Your walls fluttered around him as you neared your second release.

"You already want to come again, don't you?" Xavier said, his voice low. "I feel you getting close. Fuck, you feel so good."

You cried out his name again, with some sort of half-babbled praise about how big he was, how much he stretched you. You were fucked out. Gone. Lost in sensation.

"I can't hear you. Say that again." Xavier slammed his hips hard into yours and you moaned his name again. Louder this time, followed by more babbled praise. "Good girl, that's more like it."

His hand settled around the belt holding your wrists together and his thrusts became deep, punishing things. You babbled out praises and moans of his name as your release grew closer and closer. His other hand reached under your bodies and rubbed your clit in slow, firm circles and you shuddered.

His cock throbbed inside you. Pulsing alongside your slick walls as he thrust into you. The wet sounds of your fucking echoed in your living room, over the sound of your forgotten movie. Panted breaths and muffled moans added to the sounds, which only made you burn hotter. Your pussy clenched around his cock when he hit just the right angle, and you choked out a needy moan.

"Come for me, bunny. Let me feel you."

The command was spoken softly in your ear, but there was a sharp edge to it you had no choice but to obey. You came with a loud cry of Xavier's name, gushing over his thick cock. You clenched and squeezed, and Xavier barely pulled out before he came. Thick, hot spurts painted your ass, and he moaned your name as he coated you in his come.

You both were breathless in the aftermath. Xavier leaned down and kissed the space between your shoulder blades as he freed your wrists from his belt. Strong hands massaged your wrists until they stopped tingling, then he placed a soft kiss on each one. He disappeared for a moment, and when he came back he had a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, then pulled you against his chest.

You nuzzled into his neck, sighing softly. He turned your chin and convinced you to drink some water. You slowly came back to the moment, your body blissfully calm and mind blessedly empty. He laid back on the couch and pulled you with him. You flopped on top of him, and he pulled your couch blanket over you both.

You didn't mean to fall asleep.

That was your first thought as your work alarm blared from your bedroom. Sunlight danced in through the windows of your apartment, and a quick look at your phone said it was just past seven. Work started at nine. Xavier was fast asleep under you, snoring softly without a care in the world. His arms held you tight against his chest, and after a little bit of wiggling around, you realized there was no escaping his death grip.

You were both still naked, wrapped up together and warm from shared body heat. Your living room smelled like sex, and your face flushed as you realized you'd need to spot clean your couch. Looking down at the sleeping man below you, your neighbor, your co-worker, you realized mistakes were made last night, and now you had to suffer the consequences.

You shook Xavier's shoulder. "Xavier. It's time to wake up."

He mumbled something that sounded like a "no". You tried again, shaking him harder this time. "Xavier!"

His arms wrapped tighter around you, as if he refused to let you go even while sleeping. You rolled your eyes. Running out of options and feeling increasingly trapped, you opted for something odd. You bit him. Right over his nipple.

It worked.

Xavier startled awake, and upon seeing your face, he eased, a soft laugh bubbling in his chest. "I didn't realize bunnies bit so hard."

You hummed, almost saying something stupid like, "that's why another sexy man I know calls me kitten", but you caught yourself. You cleared your throat. "You weren't waking up, so I had to resort to extreme measures. We have to get up for work."

Xavier checked the time on his phone and made a disgruntled noise. "I suppose so."

You swallowed hard as you prepared yourself for what could quite possibly be one of the most awkward morning-after conversations ever. You liked Xavier. A lot. However, this wasn't and could not become a relationship. You didn't know the extent of Xavier's feelings, but you knew he felt something, and you wanted to nip that in the bud before anything got too serious.

"We're good, right? Nothing is different with us?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, we work together, live next to each other. I don't want last night to make things weird between us. I don't regret it, but I also don't want you to think it means something more than it does, you know?"

Xavier's smiling face went blank, and you knew you fucked up.

"What did it mean, then?" he asked, his tone flat.

"Well...we're friends. And maybe fuck buddies, if you want to be. If either of us needs a hand like I did last night, I'd be open to that. But, I honestly don't have time for a relationship, and I don't think you do either. I think it's best if we keep this casual."

"Casual." Xavier said the word like it offended him and you winced.

"Yeah. Is that alright with you?"

Xavier looked at you, the distance back in his blue eyes. The silence stretched on between you for several uncomfortable minutes, but you kept your mouth shut. If you fucked everything up permanently, it was best to figure that out now, before you got to work so you could request a new partner. Eventually, Xavier sighed and a little bit of the warmth he showed only to you came back into his expression.

"The next time a battle leaves you needing a way to burn off some steam, come to me. I'll take care of you," he said. He planted a chaste kiss on your shoulder, and you smiled at him.

"Alright. Otherwise, we're back to normal?"

"Yeah," he said. "Otherwise, we're back to normal."

You both knew it was a lie, but it comforted you all the same.

Yeah, things were perfectly, totally normal.

So. Normal.

A/N: Xavier isn't one of my mains, but I love him sm & I can easily imagine something like this happening, so he's the one we started this lil series off with. I want to do one of these with each LI before we start getting into overlap territory, and if we get there or not really depends on how much y'all want that. So, lmk! Either way, the next part of this series is going to be all about our favorite Doctor. I'm excited to write that one!

Masterlist | Next Part

[kannady]

ever, ever after

pairing: sylus x non-mc reader

summary: sylus didn't love you. how could he when she was around? but would he come look for you if you willingly step into EVER's boundaries?

word count: 3.8k

a/n: HOLY SHIT! i did not expect that many people to read the prev part and actually like it???? thank you so much to all you lovely people. seeing everyone excited for the next part just lit me on fire. hope you'll like this one. lemme know your thoughts!

read rest of the chapters here!

II

The mug shattered on the floor.

The sound was too loud in the silence of the lab, ceramic shards skittering across the frosted glass tiles. Coffee pooled dark and bitter, seeping into the panels. You stood there, frozen, fingers still curled around the ghost of the handle, your pulse a frantic drumbeat against your ribs.

Behind the observation window, Sylus didn’t move.

His crimson eyes stayed locked onto yours, unblinking, like a predator eyeing his prey. Even through the distortion of the reinforced glass, you could see the way his chest rose and fell. Too steady for a man strapped to a chair, electrodes burrowed into his skin, a veterinary-grade sedative no doubt pumping through his veins. His lips were parted just slightly, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

"Dr. (Y/N)?"

Mara’s voice cut through the ringing in your ears. You hadn’t even noticed her approach, but now she was right beside you, her gloved hand hovering near your elbow like she wasn’t sure if you’d bolt or collapse.

"What happened?"

Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth. "It.. Um.. It was too hot," you murmured, the lie slipping out before you could stop it. "I dropped it."

Mara’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t press. Around you, the other researchers had paused in their work, some staring openly, others pretending not to notice the way your hands trembled as you bent to pick up the broken pieces.

"Leave it." A senior researcher, Dr. Voss, dismissed you with a flick of his clipboard. "I’ve called for someone."

A cleaner arrived within minutes, silent and efficient, sweeping up the evidence of your momentary lapse. You barely registered their presence. Your entire body was wound tight, every nerve was burdened with the weight of Sylus’s gaze.

Someone handed you fresh lab glasses, gloves, and the file. Thick, heavy, the words SUBJECT M-7 stamped across the front in bold black letters. You took it mechanically, flipping through the pages without really seeing them.

Evol Classification: Energy Manipulation (Class VIII, potentially IX). Containment Protocols: Electromagnetic shackles. Sedation drip. Two cranial failsafe implants.

Your stomach twisted. A cold chill slithered down your spine.

You tilted your head, just a fraction, just enough, and there he was. Still watching. Still waiting.

What the hell are you doing here?

The question screamed inside your skull, a frantic, looping mantra.

How did they catch you?

Sylus didn’t get caught. Sylus was the trap. Right?

Why are you here?

Your fingers tightened around the file, the edges digging into your palms. Was this a trick? A doppelgänger? Some sick game EVER was playing to test your loyalty?

But no. No, you knew those eyes. Knew the way they darkened when he was amused, knew the way they gleamed like fresh blood under sunlight. Knew the way they’d followed you, even when you thought you’d vanished completely.

He found you.

And now he was here, strapped to a chair in your lab, at your mercy, and the irony was so sharp it could have drawn blood.

You forced yourself to turn away, to focus on the vials in front of you. But your hands weren’t steady. The chemicals sloshed dangerously as you measured them out, your thoughts a hurricane of panic and disbelief.

Then Mara nudged you.

She leaned in, her voice a whisper against your ear. "Do you… know this guy or something?"

Your grip faltered. The vial slipped, just for a second, before you caught it, your breath hitching. "No," you said, too quickly. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Mara’s gaze flicked toward the window, then back to you. "I dunno. He keeps looking at you." A pause. "Like, only at you. He hasn’t looked anywhere else since you walked in."

Your heartbeat stuttered. You didn’t dare look again. But you could feel him.

The weight of his stare. The unspoken question in it. The accusation.

"Dr. (Y/N)?" Voss’s voice snapped you back. "We’re waiting on those samples."

You swallowed hard. "Right," you murmured. "Sorry."

But as you turned back to your work, your hands moving on autopilot, your mind was somewhere else entirely.

Somewhere with crimson eyes and a voice that still haunted your dreams.

Somewhere you’d sworn you’d never return.

And yet here he was.

***

The lab was silent now, the usual hum of machinery and murmured conversations long faded into the night. You sat alone, bathed in the sterile glow of your computer screen, fingers stiff from hours of typing reports you barely registered. When you finally looked up to stretch, your eyes immediately darted to the observation window, only to find it empty. The reinforced glass reflected back your own tired expression, the chair beyond it now vacant, restraints dangling uselessly from its arms. A cold shiver traced your spine as you realized he was gone.

Fumbling for the tablet, your fingers left smudges on the screen as you pulled up the subject logs. The blue text glared back at you: SUBJECT M-7: TRANSPORTED TO SECURE HOLDING. Scheduled for observations and procedures only. 

Your breath left you in a slow, unsteady exhale. Of course they wouldn't keep him here overnight. EVER wasn't foolish enough to leave a Class VIII Evol subject unattended in a standard lab. But the realization did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. 

What were you even doing? 

Two years. Two full years you'd spent building this new life, carving out a place where no one knew your past, where you could finally breathe without calculating every word and gesture. And yet, the moment those crimson eyes had locked onto yours through the glass, it was as if no time had passed at all. 

You were right back where you started. Heart racing, palms sweating, that familiar ache settling deep in your bones.

The worst part was the ridiculous, traitorous thought that had flashed through your mind when you first saw him. Did he come here for me? 

The idea was laughable now. Sylus didn't chase. Sylus didn't get captured. If he was here, it was because he wanted to be. Part of some elaborate scheme you were never meant to understand until it was too late. 

Unless…

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard as the alternative occurred to you. What if he hadn't come willingly? The thought sent an entirely different kind of chill through you. You knew what EVER did to high-value subjects. You'd seen the files, signed off on procedures that had kept you awake at night. If they had truly captured him…

Your gaze dropped to your phone lying beside the keyboard. Two years since you'd last heard their voices. Two years since you'd walked away without looking back. Did you even have the right to call them now? Would they answer? Would they care? Your thumb hovered over Luke's contact, the number you'd never deleted, no matter how many times you told yourself you were done with that life.

The call didn't connect. Just a robotic voice informing you the number was switched off. 

Kieran's was the same. The hollow ache in your chest expanded, though you couldn't say whether it was from relief or disappointment. This was stupid. Completely, utterly stupid. He was the reason you'd left. The reason you'd spent nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if you'd ever be more than just another asset in his carefully calculated world.

And yet here you were, ready to throw away everything you'd built. Your career, your safety, your hard-won peace, all because of one look from those damned crimson eyes. You shoved the phone into your pocket with more force than necessary, pushing back from the desk so abruptly your chair nearly toppled. 

No. You weren't doing this. You weren't that person anymore.

Except if this wasn't part of his plan. If he really was trapped here, at the mercy of the same organization you'd seen tear subjects apart molecule by molecule. Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms. Damn it. You were going to regret this. 

The phone felt heavy in your hand as you stood frozen on the sidewalk outside your apartment building, your thumb hovering over Luke's contact for what must have been the twentieth time that night. The wind bit through your thin lab coat as you pressed call again, listening to the hollow ringing that seemed to echo in your bones. Two rings. Then silence. Just like before. Just like every other attempt you'd made since leaving the lab. 

Kieran's number didn’t even connect. That infuriating automated voice informing you the number was unavailable, the robotic tone doing nothing to mask the panic rising in your chest.

You shoved the phone back into your pocket with trembling fingers, your breath fogging in the cold air as you finally turned toward your apartment building. The walk up the stairs felt endless, each step heavier than the last. Some foolish, traitorous part of you kept expecting to see him. To turn a corner and find Sylus leaning against your doorframe with that infuriating smirk, crimson eyes glinting in the dim hallway light as if this were all some elaborate game. The thought made your pulse stutter, equal parts dread and something else you refused to name twisting in your gut.

But of course, he wasn't there.

You'd seen him with your own eyes just hours earlier. Strapped to that chair in the lab, electrodes buried in his skin, his silver hair matted with sweat and blood near his temple. The image burned behind your eyelids every time you blinked. 

Yet when your key finally clicked in the lock, you still hesitated, the door creaking open far too slowly as you peered inside like some frightened child checking for monsters.

The apartment was exactly as you'd left it, your half-finished coffee still sitting cold on the counter, the blanket you'd used last night draped haphazardly over the arm of the couch. Normal. Safe. Empty.

The breath left your lungs in a rush as you stepped inside, kicking off your heels with more force than necessary, watching them skid across the hardwood. You collapsed onto the couch without bothering to turn on the lights, the dim glow from the streetlights outside casting long shadows across the ceiling. The silence pressed in around you, heavy and suffocating.

What the hell were you doing?

Your fingers twitched toward your phone again before you could stop yourself. There was no one else to call. No one trustworthy, no one who wouldn't ask questions you couldn't answer. The realization settled like a stone in your stomach. Where were they? Luke and Kieran never turned their phones off. Never. Not unless something was very, very wrong.

The thought followed you into bed, clinging like a second skin as you tossed and turned beneath the sheets. When sleep finally came, it was fitful and haunted. Flashes of a too-familiar mansion, the scent of gun oil and expensive bourbon, the sound of her laughter ringing through the halls like wind chimes. 

***

You woke with a gasp, your body drenched in cold sweat, the digital clock on your bedside table blinking 4:47 AM in harsh red numbers.

For one disorienting moment, you didn't know where you were. The dream still clung to you, the weight of his gaze making your skin prickle even now. You fumbled for your phone with numb fingers, your heart hammering against your ribs as you checked for missed calls. 

Nothing. No messages. No signs that either of them had even seen your attempts to reach them.

The shower was ice-cold, the water biting at your skin until it was numb. You scrubbed at your arms until they were pink, as if you could wash away the memories, the doubt, the creeping sense that nothing had really changed at all. That no matter how far you ran or how well you hid, you were still tangled in the same web.

The morning passed in a blur of too-strong coffee and mechanical movements, brushing your teeth, pulling your hair back into a ponytail, buttoning your lab coat with fingers that refused to steady. Before you knew it, you were standing outside the lab doors, your hand frozen halfway to the access panel.

You didn't want to go in. Didn't want to see him again. Didn't want to know what they were doing to him. But the weight of your keycard in your pocket reminded you that you had no choice.

"Dr. (Y/N), authorization code Rose-9-White," you murmured, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

The locks disengaged with a hiss that seemed far too loud in the empty hallway. You stepped inside, your eyes immediately darting to the observation window before you could stop yourself, only to find it empty again. The chair stood vacant, the restraints hanging loose. Your stomach twisted.

Mara glanced up from her workstation, blinking at you over the rim of her glasses. "Oh, you didn't check the morning logs?" she asked, her fingers never pausing as they flew across her keyboard.

You forced your hands to stay still at your sides. "No. What happened?"

"We finished the preliminary assessments last night," she said, turning back to her screen. A few quick taps pulled up a file labeled SUBJECT M-7: PHASE TWO. "Today we're administering the first round of the Evol-transfer serum. We'll be monitoring his vitals closely, but we've got a stabilized backup dose prepped in case his system rejects it."

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

The words Evol-transfer serum echoed in your skull, each syllable sharper than the last. You knew exactly what that meant, you had helped design the protocols yourself. The process wasn't just painful, it was excruciating. Like having your very soul ripped out piece by piece. And if his body fought it? If the serum destabilized?

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms hard enough to leave crescent-shaped scars. The sterile air of the lab suddenly felt too thick, too warm, your lab coat constricting around your shoulders like a straitjacket. What had you gotten yourself into? More importantly, what had you allowed them to do to him?

What if you were standing on the wrong side of the glass this time?

 The thought made you sicker than anything EVER could have dreamed up in their labs.

The sterile hum of the lab equipment filled your ears as you mechanically sorted through data files, your fingers moving across the holographic display with practiced efficiency despite the storm raging inside your chest. Thirty minutes had passed since Mara's revelation about the serum, thirty minutes of forcing yourself to focus on anything but the empty observation chamber and what was coming. 

Then the doors hissed open, and your entire world narrowed to the sound of rolling wheels and the sharp, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor.

They brought him in, still strapped to that damned chair, his arms secured with reinforced electromagnetic cuffs, the electrodes embedded in his skin now surrounded by dried blood from yesterday's tests. 

The medical team moved with clinical precision, adjusting IV lines and checking readouts, but you barely registered them. Your breath caught painfully in your throat as your pulse skyrocketed, the sudden rush of blood in your ears nearly drowning out all other sound. It felt like your heart might actually tear through your ribcage.

And then he looked up.

Those crimson eyes found yours instantly, as if he'd known exactly where you'd be standing. But unlike yesterday's hollow stare, today his lips curved into that infuriating, knowing smile. The same smug smirk that had haunted your dreams for two years, the one that said he'd already calculated every possible outcome and yours wasn't the winning move. 

Your fingers spasmed around the tablet you were holding, the screen cracking slightly under the pressure before you forcibly turned away, shoulders rigid as you pretended to study a meaningless data stream.

Wait, no. The realization hit you like a bucket of ice water. This was your lab. Your workplace. Your life that you'd built painstakingly over two years of early mornings and late nights, of proving yourself again and again. 

He didn't get to waltz in here and ruin everything with one damn look. Squaring your shoulders, you inhaled deeply through your nose, the sharp scent of antiseptic helping ground you as you turned back to your workstation with renewed determination.

The next hour passed in a blur of hyper-focused activity. You moved between stations with uncharacteristic efficiency, running calculations faster than the system could typically process them, catching errors in the serum compound ratios that had slipped past three other researchers. Even Dr. Voss, the senior researcher whose narcissistic tendencies made him universally avoided, paused by your station with something resembling approval in his cold gaze. "Impressive work today, Dr. (Y/N)," he remarked, the rare praise making several nearby heads turn. "Your focus is... exceptional."

You barely registered the compliment, your entire being focused on the presence thirty feet away behind the observation glass. Every nerve in your body was aware of him, of the way his breathing changed minutely when someone approached with a new instrument, of the faint tension in his jawline that no one else would notice. You'd spent too many years studying those microexpressions, learning to read what he'd never say aloud.

"Alright," Voss's voice snapped you back to the present. "Now go and get the serum prepared. We'll begin phase one administration in five minutes."

The words sent a jolt of ice down your spine. Your feet carried you to the refrigeration unit on autopilot, your hands moving to retrieve the small vial of glowing blue liquid that represented months of your team's work. The serum felt unnaturally cold through your gloves, its faint luminescence pulsing almost like a living thing. You stood frozen for several heartbeats, staring at the vial as conflicting impulses warred in your chest.

Voss had to physically step into your line of sight before you reacted, his impatient "Well?" making you startle. When you still didn't move, he strode forward and practically snatched the serum from your grip, his sharp features twisting in displeasure. "Unusual hesitation from you today," he remarked coolly before turning away.

But you weren't looking at Voss. Your gaze had snapped back to the observation window, to the man strapped in that chair. And for just a fraction of a second, so brief you might have imagined it, you could have sworn something flickered across Sylus's face. Not anger. Not pain. But disappointment? 

The possibility sent an entirely different kind of ache through your chest, one you refused to examine too closely.

As the medical team prepared to administer the serum, you forced yourself to turn back to your workstation, your fingers flying across the controls to pull up his vital signs on your private screen. Every beep of the heart monitor, every fluctuation in brain activity would be recorded here. You told yourself it was professional curiosity. That you were simply monitoring a high-risk procedure. But when the first drops of serum entered his IV line and his body arched against the restraints with a silent scream, your nails dug into your palms hard enough to draw blood. 

And when his eyes, those damned crimson eyes, found yours through the glass once more, blazing with pain and something dangerously close to betrayal, you realized with dawning horror that you might have just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The serum's effects were worse than you'd imagined.

Each scream that tore from Sylus's throat felt like a blade twisting between your ribs. You'd never seen him like this, never heard him make a sound of pain, let alone this raw, ragged agony. His body strained against the restraints, muscles corded tight, veins standing out in beneath sweat-slicked skin. 

The monitors screamed alongside him, his heart rate spiking dangerously high as the serum worked its way through his system, attacking his Evol at the cellular level.

You stood frozen at your workstation, fingers clenched around the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles turned white. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to do something, to stop this, to rip the IV from his arm, to fix what you'd helped create. 

But you couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't tear your eyes away from the way his head finally dropped forward, his body going limp as the worst of the pain subsided into shuddering tremors.

That serum was designed to rip it out of him entirely, to transfer it to someone else. And by the time the process was complete, he'd be dead. 

Your stomach lurched. You'd known this. You'd helped develop this. But seeing it happen to him…

Your vision blurred.

Around you, the lab continued as if nothing were wrong. Researchers murmured notes to each other, adjusting dials, recording data. No one else seemed to hear the way his breath came in short, pained gasps. No one else flinched when his fingers twitched against the restraints like he was still trying to fight.

This couldn't be happening.

Sylus didn't lose. Sylus didn't scream.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look back at your screen, at the readings that confirmed what you already knew. His Evol levels were dropping. Fast.

A few hours later, the lab emptied for lunch.

Mara lingered by your station, nudging your shoulder. "Come on, let's go. You've been staring at that screen for ages."

You shook your head, not trusting your voice. "You go. I need to finish this report. I'll catch up in a minute." She hesitated, then shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you take too long, I'm eating your share of the dumplings."

The second the door hissed shut behind her, your head snapped up. The lab was empty. Almost.

Your gaze darted to the security camera in the corner, its red light blinking steadily. You should have cared. Should have hesitated. But right now, you didn't give a damn.

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath. You'd come up with a lie later.

In three quick strides, you were at the observation window. Sylus was slumped forward, his head hanging low, silver hair obscuring his face. You couldn't tell if he was unconscious.

You pressed your palm against the glass.

"Sylus."

No response.

Your chest tightened. You tapped the glass sharply, once, twice.

"Sylus, look at me."

For a heartbeat, nothing.

Then, slowly, agonizingly, he lifted his head.

His crimson eyes were duller than you'd ever seen them, his pupils blown wide with pain, but they locked onto yours with terrifying focus.

And then, he smirked.

That damn, infuriating smirk, even now. Even like this.

Your breath left you in a rush.

"You idiot," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell are you doing here?"

His lips parted like he might answer. But then the lab door hissed open behind you.

You whirled around.

Dr. Voss stood in the doorway, his cold eyes flicking from you to Sylus and back again.

"Dr. (Y/N)," he said slowly. "Care to explain why you're talking to the subject?"

Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

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[bitteriekitten]

kisses for the mama.

synopsis — the l&ds finding out and meeting your baby for the first time.

content — fem!reader, singlemom!reader, fluff, angst, babies, you have a daughter (twin daughters in sylus's) in all fics and she has no set age (i have no concept of how old babies can begin speaking in full sentences and express themselves authentically. so.), mentions and implications of the ff: death, weapons, toxic relationships, toxic baby-daddies, emotional abuse, abandonment, illnesses, hospital visits, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — that poll i made was def interesting... everyone has baby fever huh.. yknow what me too 😔 but IMO writing this in jus one sitting is honestly better than going out and actually getting a baby. this was unproofread bcs i'm tired and in this house we rawdog everything. and yes, the baby names came from katseye members SUE ME their recent single slaps so good idgaf

Xavier didn't question it when you would be so eager to get home by 6 P.M. everyday. he felt that he was the same exact way, speeding through the work day like he was going to be late for his bed.

but he was surprised to find you waiting near a popular daycare center in linkon. he happened to be passing by the street to get to jeremiah's shop when he noticed you. still in full uniform, you kneeled by the door and waved to someone inside the building with a tired but excited smile.

xavier froze on his spot when a little girl speeds out of the door and into your arms. the girl looked like a smaller version of you, with the addition of small dimples and hair in short pig-tails. she squealed excitedly as you stood up with her in your embrace, her little arms wrapped around your neck, refusing to let go.

it was then the little girl's eyes spotted xavier that he realized he was blatantly staring. before he could move away from you undetected, you had already turned around and locked eyes with your co-worker. two similar-looking faces stared at him, one in shock and one in confusion.

"oh- xavier, hey-" you stammered as the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand.

"hi." xavier replied, unsure of what to say. the little girl's eyes, unblinking, turned to you. at such a young age, she already knew how to raise her eyebrow.

"mama, who that?" she whispered, loud enough for xavier to hear.

you kissed her temple, "a friend from work, my love." you replied simply. much to his surprise, you walked towards xavier, to which the little girl tightened her arms around you in caution.

"xavier, this is lara." you said, running your free hand over her head and back. "my... daughter."

xavier smiled and bent down to meet lara's eyes. "hi, lara," he said. "i'm xavier, i'm your mom's friend from work."

lara stuck out her little arm at him, and it took him a second to realize she wanted to shake his hand. xavier chuckled, but complied anyway, her hand barely wrapping around his finger as he shook it once.

"you fight wanderrrrs like mama?" she asked pointedly.

"yes, i do." xavier replied with a grin.

xavier abandoned all his plans with jeremiah that afternoon, sticking by your side - or really, lara's side. the train ride home was quiet, save for lara's hundreds of questions for xavier, who answered her with utmost sincerity.

xavier learned that lara liked to speak in incomplete sentences and disregarded syllables altogether, creating her own unique vocabulary just because she could. she also liked to cling to your uniform like a tiny koala, but smied at anybody who she thinks would smile back.

in just a matter of minutes, she somehow already had xavier wrapped around her stubby fingers.

"mr. shaver, i wanna hunter-rer like you and mama."

you giggled as lara finally managed to pick up xavier's name, albeit a bit wonkily with her current speaking skill. but xavier didn't mind - he likes it. he loves it.

"yeah? you wanna be big and strong like your mama and i?" he asked.

"mhm. but i don't want boom-boom." lara sighed dramatically. she covered her ears with her tiny palms and quickly took them off, "hurt ears."

xavier didn't miss the way your smile faltered, and how your arms cradled the back of her head. his lips pursed together, his chest tightening at the sight - at the thought of you struggling with a baby under your wing.

"it's okay, my love. you don't have to use boom-boom." you replied, trying to keep your voice leveled. lara, adorably unaware, leaned further into your affection.

"mama sleepy." she declared with a big yawn. you began patting her back comfortingly. "okay, just sleep, love. i'll wake you up when you get home." you said.

lara quickly dozed off with her head smushed against your chest, your heartbeat lulling her to sleep. xavier glanced up at you, eyes softening at your expression.

"are you alright?" he asked cautiously, scooting closer to you on the train seat.

"...yes." you replied after a moment, running a hand over your mouth. "it's just... i wasn't expecting her to say that."

it was clear that there was something underneath your tone, behind the eyes that held only love and protection over your daughter. xavier remained silent, because maybe that's what you needed from him.

"i caught her dad at our old house with my gun." you said quietly. xavier's jaw clenched and his heart skipped a beat, eyes looking over your daughter with alert and distraught. you sighed to yourself and pulled lara impossibly close.

"she was asleep inside her bed, and he just... i dunno, he came home from the bar that night completely drunk. he was right outside her door and i just- i lost it." you whimpered.

xavier did not hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you and lara into his chest. "you're here now." he told you firmly, finality lacing his voice and spreading onto his hold over the both of you. "he's not here anymore, and i'll make sure of it."

the walk back to the apartment was easier, where lara's laughter resounded the halls of the building as she rode on xavier's shoulders up to your floor. xavier, with his iron grip over your daughter's legs, mimicked the sounds of a rocket ship flying over space as he took her on a galactic adventure.

they walked on before you, with you following behind them with a fond smile and a fond heart.

Zayne, like any other person, didn't prefer to work late. but it was getting impossible to finish his workload by the end of the work day, so he's been chained to his desk inside his office at ungodly hours.

it was 3 in the morning when he'd gone out of his office to get himself a cup of hot cocoa, when he spotted you by the vending machines. he rushed over to you, surprised to see you at akso hospital at this hour. hearing his hurried footsteps, you turned around just as you picked up your snacks.

your eyes widened as he quickly approached you. "y/n? what're you doing here? are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes poring over your figure, frantically searching for any injuries.

"dr. zayne! uh-" you gulped. zayne's heart pounded - he couldn't find what was wrong. you were in your pajamas, your eyes bleary and hair in disarray, but you didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort.

"what're you here for? did something happen?"

"i-i'm fine, but..." you cleared your throat, scratching the back of your neck. "um, m-my daughter caught that stomach bug that's been plaguing over the schools this season."

zayne must've heard wrong, "daughter?"

"yes. my daughter, manon." you awkwardly replied, the snacks in your hands crumpling. "she's been vomiting non-stop at home and she just got that fever hours ago - i was just overwhelmed, i didn't know what else to do." you said, your voice becoming watery by the second.

"no, no - you did the right thing by bringing her here." zayne quickly reassured you, pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace. you took a moment to hug him back, your arms wrapping around his waist tightly. you let out a long shaky sigh against his chest as he patted your back gently.

you were the first to pull back from his embrace, wiping away the stray tears that clouded your vision. "w-would you like to meet her?" you asked, "i promised to get her some snacks - she was complaining about the fish you served here."

zayne chuckled, "of course. lead the way."

after a short trip down an empty hallway and into one of the private rooms, zayne watched as you gently woke manon up from her sleep. the little girl, with eyes and smile shaped the same way as her mother's, instantly spotted zayne standing by the doorway. she looked at him in confusion, then back at you, "mama, who's that?" she asked, voice weak.

you smiled at zayne and turned back to your daughter, "that's dr. zayne, love. he's my friend at the hospital."

zayne closed the door behind him and walked over to manon's bed with a small smile. "hello, manon. i'm dr. zayne. how are you feeling?"

"my tummy doesn't hurt anymore." she deadpanned, pointing to her stomach hidden underneath the bedsheets. zayne nodded, "that's impressive. you should eat right now, though - you must be starving."

manon nodded and you moved to give her the snacks you got from the vending machines.

your daughter was dozing off again in a few minutes, thankfully without any other complications. you took the granola bar from her grip and carefully adjusted her head onto her pillow, cleaning off the crumbs from the corner of her lip. you moved to stand by the window with a heavy sigh, zayne following beside you.

for a while, it was silent between the both of you, watching manon sleep without fussing or being in pain for once. zayne awkwardly cleared his throat, "if you don't mind me asking, where is manon's father?"

you smiled, albeit bitterly, "probably high in some casino right now." you replied. zayne's frown deepened as he crossed his arms, "i know - it was stupid. he was an old classmate that i happened to catch at a bar, and one thing led to another..."

you rubbed a hand over your face, "i tried to make it work with that bastard, i really did. but he just left and -" you cut yourself off with a deep sigh. you breathed out slowly, to which zayne stepped closer to you with his arms wrapping around your figure once again.

"it's alright. i'm here now." he whispered into your ear. surrounded by his endless warmth, you crumpled into tears, digging your face into his shoulder as you cried. zayne hummed, looking up onto the white ceiling, willing to do whatever it takes to take away your pain. to take away the suffering you endured to keep manon happy.

Rafayel was astonished to find out that, even after months of you working for him as his bodyguard, he still had a lot of things to learn about you.

save for instance, the tiny girl standing in front of him in his studio that looks a little too much like you. she had on a bright pink beret on her head and her hands tightly gripped an octopus plushie, the one that he remembered winning for you at the arcade. she shyly smiled up at rafayel, a smile that had him second-guessing himself. was he dreaming, and has finally met his daughter that looked exactly like you?

you stood beside her, your smile mimicking hers. you nudged the girl gently, "say hi, baby." you told her.

"hello, mr. rafayel! i'm megan. i really like your paintings." the girl greeted cheerily and outstretched her arm to rafayel for him to shake. despite how stunned he was, he managed to pull himself together and shook megan's hand.

"hello megan, i appreciate it. why do you look like miss bodyguard?" he deadpanned.

megan's smile dropped and turned into a pout that looked exactly like yours, which ran a bolt of electricity down his spine. she turned to you with confusion, and you chuckled as you bent down to pick her up in your arms.

"rafayel, this is my daughter, megan. i wanted you to meet your biggest fan." you replied. megan smiled once again, "mama is right - i am your biggest fan! i really like your paintings." she said sweetly.

rafayel was frozen solid to the ground, barely able to process what you just told him.

"i'm sorry - daughter? you have a daughter?" he asked incredulously.

"yes, raf - she's right here in front of you." you replied exasperatedly, laughing at his disbelief. "can i show her around the studio? she can't shut up about you at all."

in just a few minutes, rafayel shooed you away from your own daughter, instead making a grand tour of his art studio just for megan. "you stay right there on the couch, and watch TV or something. that's an order." rafayel demanded.

you snorted; it was hard to take him seriously when he just basically snatched megan from your arms into his. but it seemed like you really had no choice in the matter. after making sure your daughter was okay with being left alone with your boss, you complied to his wishes.

it was a sight unlike any other. it was a good thing thomas never shows up at the studio unannounced.

rafayel, for once, was doing what he was supposed to be doing at his art exhibitions - showing off his artistry, explaining his techniques, and poring over the decisions he made in every brushstroke. all while megan, even as she was struggling to comprehend everything, took it all in, absorbing the memory into her brain like a sponge.

"now this, ah..." rafayel grinned widely at the unfinished painting situated on his easel. he bent down to place megan back on the ground and picked up the canvas from the easel. it was a painting of a sunset by a beach where he had spent several nights with you after another one of his spontaneous inspiration trips.

he paused. that trip lasted over three days, and you had traveled over seven hours just to sit and chat with him while he sketched. and to think you did all that while your daughter was probably at home, barely able to check up on her because of the terrible cellphone service at that resort.

looking down at megan, he forced himself to smile, "megan, when your mama's away on a trip - where do you stay?"

the little girl hummed as she hugged the octo-plushie to her chest. "i stay at my dad and step-mama's house, but i don't like it there. it's so messy and loud all the time - and i miss my mama too much." she replied simply, honesty dripping out of her voice.

rafayel bit his lip, indescribable guilt building up in his chest and up to his neck. he reluctantly set the painting back down on his easel and turned to megan with a half-smile. "megan, how about you and your mama come with me to an inspiration trip right now?" he asked.

megan tilted her head. "insporasho- what?"

rafayel chuckled and kneeled down to her height. "we're gonna go to a beach, or an island, or somewhere - and you'll help me pick the colors for my next painting." he told her matter-of-factly, "isn't that great?" he grinned widely when megan's entire face lit up in excitement.

"oh my gosh, really?! i gotta tell mama!" megan shrieked and ran back to where they left you in the living room. rafayel laughed as he followed behind her, hands in his pockets as megan rushed to tell you.

climbing up your lap with great effort, megan repeats rafayel's words through her limited vocabulary. "mr. rafayel wants to go on a beach trip with us, mama! i wanna go! let's go, mama!" she exclaimed.

you grinned at her as you held her in your arms, "of course we can go, baby. as long as it's alright with rafayel." you said.

you glanced up at rafayel, who was smiling fondly at the both of you. he nodded at you and sat down on the couch next to you. "you both deserve it." he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles gently.

Sylus had noticed from the beginning just how close you were with the twins, but he never really knew why. the two seemed to hang onto every word you were saying, and they also somehow knew the right thing to do to have you instantly give into their whims. you seemed to be able to communicate with the two in a way that he couldn't.

but sylus just chalked it all up to you being a kid at heart, and the twins were still young and wanted something to do other than be his henchmen 24/7. maybe the twins just liked having somebody else to be with at the base other than their boss or some random business partner.

it was at a linkon mall event that it finally clicked for sylus. you asked him a few days before that you were holding a little dinner party at your place, just because. sylus, though confused, obliged with the invitation, speeding down the streets with luke and kieran in the backseat to get to your apartment building on time.

luke knocked on your door and adjusted his jacket like it was a suit. kieran nudged him and they both burst into giggles. sylus, even more confused, raised an eyebrow at their antics - it was probably a twin thing.

"i'll get it!" two little voices sounded from behind the door. sylus held his breath as the door opened, where two twin girls stood behind it. his heart launched up his throat, staring down at the girls whose faces look a little to familiar.

luke and kieran bore the same shock as their boss, "wh- what?" kieran trailed off.

you emerged from the kitchen in a simple sundress and an apron around your waist. you grinned at your visitors. "oh good, you're here." you said, walking over to the entryway. resting each of your hands on the twin girls, you moved them out of the way for the three men to enter into your apartment. "come on in, you guys."

sylus's brain short-circuited - it finally dawned on him why the twin girls looked familiar. as he and the twins entered your apartment, he took a good look at the girls; they looked exactly like you.

"y/n... what is the meaning of this?" sylus spoke carefully.

you chuckled and crouched down to the girls' height. "these are my daughters, sophia and daniela." you replied simply, as if you were just simply replying to a text on the phone. "sophia, daniela, these are our friends - that's sylus, luke, and kieran."

sophia, the twin who's dressed in pink, smiled widely up at luke and raised her arms, "wook!" she exclaimed happily, to which luke immediately scooped her up in his arms, his face crumpling.

daniela, the shier twin who's dressed in white, hid behind your leg when kieran kneeled down to her height and tried to do the same. kieran, though dejected, clutched at his chest dramatically, muttering about how cute this whole thing was.

"it was about time you got to meet the most important people of my life, you know?" you said with a chuckle.

sylus scoffed again - all the times you and the twins wreaked havoc at the base finally made sense. he walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug, his head dipping down to kiss the top of your head.

"you're the bravest woman i know." he whispered, his voice wavering slightly. you returned his hug gratefully, sighing into his chest.

the dinner went by quite eventfully. sophia laughed at everything luke and kieran did at the dinner table. even sylus joined in on the fun by trying to balance his spoon on his nose, to which it clattered onto the table that sent sophia into a fit of giggles. meanwhile, daniela observed the whole table quietly, cautious at the amount of new people that had entered the little world you built for the three of you.

but the twins made sure to give her just as much attention as they did with sophia, albeit through a reasonable distance. the whole table cheered when daniela finally managed to bring out a little laugh when kieran pretended to be defeated by a spoonful of mashed potato straight into the face.

after dinner, both sets of twins sat in the middle of your living room, your tv playing an old kids movie. luke held daniela in his arms both already half-asleep, while kieran fully laid down on the couch bleary-eyed with sophia already dozing off on his stomach.

you smiled fondly at the sight just as sylus walked up behind you after doing the dishes. he wiped his hands on his pants and snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"when i said you're full of surprises, i didn't think it was this, kitten." he whispered into your ear. you giggled and moved to face him just as he was about to land a kiss onto your ear. "there's a lot you still don't know about me, then." you teased.

"what, that you have other children with dumbasses who don't know what they had?" sylus joked. you threw your head back with a laugh and sylus took this to kiss down your neck and collarbones.

"no - you'll be more surprised that they talk a big game but leave anyway." you replied, and sylus doesn't miss the way you still sound bitter, still angry that you had to do it all alone. he hummed as he nuzzled into your skin.

"surprises or not, i'm here now." he told you firmly. "i'll keep all three of you safe. luke, kieran and i will make sure of it." he promised, hoping the sincerity was present in his eyes and voice.

you landed a kiss onto his shoulder, breathing in his scent, his warmth, his security.

"thank you."

Caleb was on high alert by the time you sent him an can you help me out with something through the phone. he immediately dialed your number, listening to the other line ring twice before you finally picked up the call.

"what's wrong?" he asked.

"woah, hey - not even a hello, caleb?" you joked.

"you sounded pretty serious over text. is something bothering you?" he asked. you hummed, and caleb briefly wondered if someone was bothering you. it had been a month since he returned after faking his own death, and he swore that he'd make it up to you in any way you allow him to. if it meant getting rid of something that made you uneasy, or someone, he'll do it. no questions asked.

"well, kind of - but not in a way you think." you said.

caleb's eyebrow raised. "explain."

you were silent again, and worry gnawed at caleb's system - "how about you just come over? it's better if i show you than to talk about it." you said instead. before caleb could ask more questions, you cut him off with a "bring snacks!" before hanging up the phone.

in an hour or so, caleb had arrived outside your apartment, carrying an armload of snacks he stopped to get along the way. he knocked on your door, anxiously biting his bottom lip as he waited for you to answer.

when you opened the door, you quickly gestured for him to be quiet just as he was about to nag you. he clamped his mouth shut and gave you one of the bags he had when you gestured for him to give it to you, entering your apartment after you.

"why are we being quiet?" he whispered.

you gestured to your kitchen, where a brightly colored bassinet stood near the sink. "yoonchae's sleeping, and unless you want to go deaf from her crying her eyes out, you don't wanna wake her up." you replied just as quietly.

nothing was registering into caleb's brain - who was yoonchae? why was there a baby in your apartment? "whose baby is that?"

you set down the bag onto your coffee table, hesitating for a moment. you turned to caleb with a sad smile, "mine." you said. "yoonchae's my daughter."

caleb's knees wobbled, as if the news was suddenly weighing him down by his shoulders. he dropped the bags he was holding and sped over to your side, gripping your arms tightly. "y/n, say it isn't true..." he gasped.

you grinned at him, "i'm being serious, caleb."

"oh my god." caleb rubbed his face. he cautiously walked over to the bassinet, his entire heart in his throat. inside the bassinet was indeed a baby, your baby in fact - she looked exactly like you, her mouth pouting in her sleep the same way you do. yoonchae's baby mitten graze against her puffy cheek, and she shifts in her spot for a moment before going back to motionless again.

"pipsqueak..." caleb gasped again.

"i know," you sighed, walking up behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "i was supposed to introduce you to her a while back, but you were always busy at the fleet." you muttered.

"h-how? when?" he asked.

moments later, caleb, with his evol, successfully managed to move the bassinet to the living room without waking yoonchae up. he also figured out how to turn on the bassinet's feature where it rocks side to side to keep her soothed while she slept. he sat on the floor facing yoonchae, with you situated between his legs.

"it happened a month after you and grandma passed." you admitted quietly. "i ran into one of my classmates at university, and we ended up talking for more than just 3 hours at a bar. then... well - one thing led to another." you chuckled humorlessly, then sighed, leaning back to caleb's sturdy chest. "people make decisions on a whim when life seems to fall apart around you." you mumbled.

caleb's arms tightened around you, pressing a kiss to your temple, his heart aching. the thought of you barely able to keep yourself alive after he had passed, and then finding out that you were pregnant and about to become a parent on top of that - it punches something in his chest.

"he was helpful when i told him about the pregnancy." you said with a bittersweet smile. "he referred me to the best pediatricians he knew, helped me baby-proof the entire apartment, ordered a bunch of things for my overnight bag for when i go into labor, all that stuff. he made sure he was going to be there for us, for me, up until when yoonchae was the size of a blueberry."

"he left?" caleb asked, struggling to keep his voice leveled. he'd hate to cause a scene and run the risk of waking yoonchae up. and that's not what you needed right now.

"no, no. he-" you cut yourself off with a sharp breath. caleb turned you around in his hold and quickly wiped away the tears brimming in your eyes. "he p-passed away just after we found out the gender."

"oh pips, i'm so sorry." caleb sighed, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

"we... we got into separate cars because he still had to work after the appointment. and- and a truck basically just bulldozed over him on the highway-" you sobbed into his skin. caleb shushed you gently, stroking your hair out of your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. his heart ached further with each soft sniffle you made; things should've been different.

"i did what i could for yoonchae, even if it meant that he wasn't with us anymore." you whispered.

"and i'm proud of you, pipsqueak." caleb said firmly, holding your face in both of his hands, your cheeks smushing together. "i may have not been here for when you were growing yoonchae in your belly, but i'm going to be here for you from now on."

you gave him a watery smile and wrapped your arms around his neck for a tight hug. caleb hugged you back just as fiercely, tears of his own springing up in his eyes. that was a promise, made from deep inside the tendrils of his heart.

after a while caleb pulled back from you and tucked your hair behind your ear with a smile, "did you call me here just so you could have a babysitter?" he teased.

despite the tears and the snot dripping down your face, you laughed. "you caught me..." you mumbled, still giggling.

caleb couldn't even be angry, he couldn't be as he kissed the palm that rested against his cheek.

"i'll be here for the both of you, pipsqueak. no matter what." he whispered.

taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!

@zuhaeri @almondtofuus @syxlx @berrryparfait @usertala @c9tnoos @sylusslittlekitten @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @museuranae @multisstuff @atlasbreaks @daddyslittlecrow @dysphxriaii @vesearlee @zephilyr @kunipoka @serendididy @thearynn @qiyukiss @celestialforce @sixeyedgodswife

[vividly-vermillion]

✴︎ MORNING SEX

જ⁀➴ The LADS guys wake up horny and make it your problem.

ﾉ including: Xavier / Zayne / Rafayel / Sylus

ﾉ cw: fem!reader, morning sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, thigh fucking, creampies, cum eating, consent checks (no somno)

ﾉ notes: this wasn't planned but it just happened.... || TAGLIST

જ⁀➴ Xavier:

♡ Xavier really likes giving and receiving oral - especially in the mornings.

♡ It's just too good when he wakes up with your mouth wrapped around his half hard cock, feeling it growing fully hard in your mouth.

♡ When you wake up and can feel him pressed against your butt with the way he's holding you, you smirk to yourself. Someone was having a good dream, eh?

♡ You thought about letting him sleep peacefully at first, but the longer you two stayed in bed like that, the harder it got to ignore (quite literally).

♡ When you finally had enough, you turned around in his arms and started peppering kisses over his collarbones until you heard him groan tiredly.

♡ "Wanna wake you up properly," you mumble against his skin and you can feel the goosebumps forming on his skin before his cock twitches against your belly while he gives you a tired nod.

♡ Your kisses slowly descended downwards until you reached the hem of his sweatpants, which you pulled down without hesitation.

♡ The sight was a truly beautiful one, Xavier's pale cock was just waiting for your tongue to run over his veins, for your lips to wrap around his sensitive tip and you didn't even want to make him wait.

♡ Lazily, you ran your tongue up and down the underside of his shaft and along the thick vein there before taking his tip in your mouth.

♡ Your tongue lapped at his frenulum before sinking down your head until all of it was buried inside your mouth and throat.

♡ Xavier's eyes shut even tighter and he let out a soft mewl at how good you made him feel even when he was still half asleep.

♡ In his sleepy haze it never took more than a few minutes until you could feel his cock twitch desperately, so you doubled your efforts, needing him to paint your tongue with his seed.

♡ With a silent moan, he released inside your mouth, his hands gripping the pillow beneath his head tightly when you kept suckling his tip even after he came.

♡ Once you had your fill, you made sure to release his softening cock with a lewd pop and pressed a sweet kiss onto his hip bone. "Good morning to you, handsome," you mused and cuddled back up to him.

♡ Xavier would make sure to repay the favor once he's fully awake.

જ⁀➴ Zayne:

♡ Zayne absolutely hates lounging around in bed in the mornings, having his set morning routine - but sometimes he can't resist holding you close just for five more minutes.

♡ Especially if you wear a shirt of his and nothing else. How is he supposed to leave you in bed like that?

♡ You lay on your stomach, one leg raised ever so slightly and his shirt rose up over your hips so the globes of your ass were fully visible.

♡ He groans silently and pulls you against his chest so you two are spooning. Slowly, his hands travel over your body in a respectful manner until your eyes flutter open, a small yawn escaping your lips.

♡ "Good morning, beautiful." His voice is still hoarse from sleep, but his lips feel warm against your shoulder when he leaves a kiss there.

♡ One of his hands travels towards your hip and gives it a gentle squeeze before sliding over your thigh, stopping right before your core, a silent question for consent and you nod tiredly, hooking one leg over his to give him access.

♡ This was all Zayne needed, fingers gently gliding through your folds to play with your clit while his hips rut against you until you mewl for him, eager to feel him inside of you.

♡ Zayne pulled down his sleep shorts just enough to free his aching length before letting it glide through your by now drenched folds, gathering your arousal before slipping inside of you.

♡ It's not rough, it's slow and loving. His hips roll against yours almost in a tired fashion, but he holds you close by wrapping one arm around you while his other hand stays between your thighs to play with your clit.

♡ It might be lazy morning sex, but your pleasure is still most important to him.

♡ Mornings like that are rare but deeply valued by the both of you.

જ⁀➴ Rafayel:

♡ Rafayel isn't a morning person and likes to lie around in bed even if he does wake up early.

♡ If you're still asleep when he's already out of his little dream world, he likes watching you a lot, burning every little detail of you into his brain.

♡ But if he wakes up needy and you're not awake to help him feel better? He's not above waking you up with whines, shaking you slightly or straight up rutting against you in whatever position you two found yourselves when he woke up.

♡ This morning your plush butt was pressed up against him so beautifully and he couldn't help but roll his hips into you, the friction making him pant heavily.

♡ "Wake up, cutie, you're missing out on the fun," he whines a little, just wanting your attention.

♡ When you finally do wake up, Rafayel kisses your shoulders gently but also leaves small bites behind.

♡ You could feel how desperate he got, his cock was hard as he rubbed it against the globes of your ass, but you were merciful, allowing him to slide it between your thighs.

♡ Your body was already reacting to him before you woke up, your pussy wet and needy when you woke up, which made it much easier for him to fuck your thighs.

♡ The tip of his cock rubs deliciously against your clit with each roll of his hips, making you hide your face in the pillows.

♡ Rafayel's arm snakes around you to play with your boobs, enjoying the sweet sounds you make for him.

♡ It doesn't take long for him to get to the edge, nudging the head of his cock against your entrance now, but not pushing in yet to wait for your permission.

♡ Instead of allowing him to finally fuck you, you push him onto his back and straddle his hips before sinking down on his cock.

♡ Both of you throw your head back when he slides in with ease, but Rafayel can't hold back from releasing immediately, your pussy squeezing him too perfectly.

♡ Once his eyes flutter open and the haze of his orgasm wears off, your hips start to move, causing him to blush furiously at how overwhelming it felt, but he wouldn't want you to stop - you deserve an earth shattering orgasm to start the day too, after all.

જ⁀➴ Sylus:

♡ Sylus is a night owl, so usually he goes to bed when you wake up.

♡ There are some nights when he lies in bed with you regardless, or days when you try to adapt to his sleeping schedule.

♡ But the mornings when he goes to bed are the best because he likes to wake you up and make sure that you have a wonderful start into the day.

♡ He's gentle at first, his big hands caressing your arms before they wander over your torso towards your thighs.

♡ His hands stay respectful until your eyes flutter open - that's where they start to get teasing.

♡ Fingers raking over your inner thighs and kisses following in their wake immediately.

♡ He doesn't need to ask - the way you nod and part your legs so willingly is all the consent he needs to grow bolder with his advances.

♡ When his kisses reached the junction of your thighs, he planted feather like kisses onto your clothed pussy, his tongue gently prodding at the fabric just to have you squirming beneath him.

♡ He didn't make you wait long before his fingers tugged your panties down, flinging them carelessly into the room before continuing to kiss your pretty pussy.

♡ At this point he was making out with your cunt, his tongue circling your clit before applying a little suction.

♡ When your hand started tugging at his white strands, he groaned into your pussy, red eyes looking up to watch you enjoying yourself while his tongue flicked over your clit at the perfect speed.

♡ His fingers soon slip inside of you to make you come undone for him while also prepping you for the main course.

♡ But as always, your pleasure is more important - only after you came at least twice would he think about making you come undone a third time, but this time around his cock.

[syluspeach]

Lace and Leather

Biker!Sylus x Sweetheart!Reader Drabble

Trigger warnings: oral (f receiving), blowjob, first time, innocence kink, size difference, fingering, possessive!sylus, jealous!sylus, hand kink, size kink

+2k words

The first time Sylus saw you was at the bar he and his friends frequented. Your soft style stood out amongst the jeans and leather. Your pink cardigan would end up bloody by the end of the night as you used it to wipe his red-stained knuckles, a thank you since he fought off some drunk who tried to get handsy. 

With your shoulders exposed, except for the straps from your shirt, Sylus would use that as an excuse to lend you his jacket. The heavy leather dwarfs your figure, engulfing you with the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes. 

The rest of the night, the two of you could be spotted in one of the booths located in the corner. His thigh touched yours but neither of you pulled away. 

While he nursed a chilled beer, he made sure the Shirley Temple he ordered for you had extra cherries at the bottom. 

Just to mess with you, he’d take the cherry you offered to him, making a show of tying the stem with his tongue. 

When it was time for you to head out with your friends, he’d let you keep the jacket with the excuse that you two would meet again. By the time you left, his name was in your contact list. 

It took a while for you to agree to a date with him. Not because you weren’t interested in it but because you were too much of an over-thinker. What if the date went all wrong? What if he hated your cherry earrings? What if you said the wrong thing? What if your perfume was too strong? 

In the end, your first time going out together was rather tame. It was a cute rowboat date on a lake surrounded by blooming cherry blossom trees. With the sun beating down on you two, Sylus bought you a pretty purple parasol from one of the vendors. 

You’d always remember how handsome he looked steering the boat. The smile that would form on his face as you giggled at the little ducklings that passed by or the way his muscles flexed, the sleeves of his black t-shirt stretching over his biceps.

When the sun began to set and the night air started to pick up, he would slip his jacket on you without asking. The collar would be pulled up, a sigh falling from your lips as the warm material encased your chilled cheeks. 

Sylus had the nasty habit of smoking. He quit cold turkey when he realized the smell messed with your sinuses, causing headaches and constant sneezing.

The look of disapproval brought a smile to his face. In his eyes, you were utterly adorable. It was one of his favorite expressions. 

Number one being the look on your face as you cum. 

Your first time with Sylus wasn’t planned. Sure he would tease you, but it never went past hungry kisses and sneaky touches. He was more than happy to let you set the pace. He would never take more than what you would give him. 

After spending the day having a picnic in the park; filling up on finger sandwiches you made, freshly cut fruit, and pastries, the hours passed by quickly. 

Sylus was more than happy to lounge across the quilt, watching as you pulled stuff out of a basket you repurposed after finding it at an antique store. His signature leather jacket lay under your knees, offering extra cushion as you arranged the food to your liking. 

Once your tummies were filled, he’d recline against the tree that was offering you two shade, you settled between his long legs. You contentedly listened as he read to you from your book of the week. 

The way Sylus treated and cared for you, whether surrounded by others or when it was just the two of you, you found yourself putting all your faith in him. You knew you could trust him. You knew he’d never hurt you. 

That night as he took you home, he didn’t plan on staying the night but, he was more than happy to accept your invitation to come inside. 

You made the first move, surprising him by nervously climbing into his lap as he sat on the couch and kissing him. 

He was caught off guard for a second but he instantly responded to your kisses, large hands trailing up your sides. He realized you wanted more as you pressed your clothed pussy against his crotch, fingers pulling at his shirt. 

Making sure this was something you a hundred percent wanted, ensuring you wouldn’t regret what would be transpiring between you two, he melted in your hold when you whined for him. 

He carried you towards your bedroom, fingers flexing as you left tiny kisses against his neck. He was gentle, stopping every so often to make sure you were okay. His size was intimidating and the last thing he wanted was to scare or hurt you. 

Most definitely he has to stretch you out with his fingers first, using his spit to aid with the motions. His long fingers reach deep inside you, the tips curling to tap on the spongy part inside of you.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when he slips inside you for the first time. The gummy, tight grip you had on him felt out of this world. Of course, he couldn’t give you every inch of him on your first time. He’d have to work you up to that.

The memory of you coming undone under him for the first time would forever be ingrained in his mind. Heated and fragile, but nevertheless beautiful. 

This however opened the floodgates to Sylus becoming obsessed with the taste and feel of you. From then on, he was more than happy to help you experience other firsts.

Sylus is massive compared to you. (Think grassland romance sylus physique) one of his hands can wrangle both of yours into place. It’s no surprise that his hand is bigger than your face. Whenever he’s deep inside of you, he’ll lay his palm against your pelvis, eyes sparkling with fascination as it covers the expanse of your tummy.

To replace the need to smoke, he used your love for sweets as an excuse to fill up on soft cookies, flaky almond croissants, and moist cupcakes. It amazed you how he could eat whatever he wanted and stave off the weight. 

This leads to you learning how to make your own desserts. 

Sylus ended up being your taste tester. He’d watch you flutter about in his kitchen, flour on your cheek, fingers stained with food coloring. 

To keep you from staining your clothes with batter, he bought you a little blue apron with white frill lining. The joy that filled you when you saw it had heart-shaped pockets made his chest puff out with pride. 

He greedily toke in the sight of you as you’d bend over to place a tray into the oven. When you’d catch him looking, you couldn’t help but scold him all while his lips turned into a devious smirk. 

Sylus is known for being a little shit. Just to get a reaction out of you, he’d dip his finger in the newly made frosting, maintaining eye contact as he licked it off his digits.

Being the devil he was, he would make comments about seeing you with nothing but the apron.

Though slightly mortified at how wet you’d get, you were a willing participate. Feeding into his fantasies, the latest being you letting him lick frosting off of you skin. 

Your cheeks would burn, words getting caught in your throat. 

He was good at distracting you. More times than not, your treats would nearly burn due to you being spread across the counter. Your fingers gripping the edge as Sylus’ nose was pressed against your ring of muscle, his tongue lapping at your clit and fingers scissoring you open. 

Thankfully, he could make you cum in a matter of seconds, hips twitching from the aftershock and your hole clenching around nothing. He’d squeeze the flesh of your ass roughly, spreading them to see his spit mixed with your essence that leaked out. 

As you laid there trembling, he’d hum softly as he put on your pink gingham oven mitts and set the freshly baked treats on the counter. 

He’d always talk about how you were the sweetest treat he ever tasted. Nothing could compare. 

There comes a point when you’re doing laundry that you notice multiple pairs of panties have gone. Your beloved pink ones with the little strawberries were missing. You come to learn that they’re safely tucked away in Sylus’ favorite jacket. 

He was the type who liked to use his hands. In more ways than one. 

Whenever he nicks himself, whether it’s from a tussle or from working on his bike, he’ll find himself, sitting on the couch with you disinfecting the wound before a polkadot  bandage is placed, your lips coming to press a kiss against the plastic, stating it’ll help him heal. 

Knowing your love for anything cute and pastel colored, he’d have to physically restrain himself from buying it, remembering your dresser that was filled with cosmetics, little bunny figurines in human clothes, and most importantly, a decoden frame made by you that held a picture of you two. 

Attached to his phone was a charm you made for him. Little pearls, bows, and red crystal beads were neatly stacked on the string, a bunny charm dangling from the end. 

Had it been anyone else, the other guys would have no problem cracking jokes about how girly it was but this was Sylus. Sylus who had no problem breaking someone’s face if they ever made fun of you or your hobbies. 

Instead, Rafayel would comment on how authentic the craft store's pearls appeared. Xavier would bat at the charm with his fingers whenever he was close enough. Zayne was indifferent but still complemented your artistic ability while Caleb would whine about wanting one, shutting up when he saw how Sylus’ eye twitched at the thought of him having something made by you. 

He already had to share the desserts you so sweetly packed into heart-shaped containers with them. 

He wouldn’t be giving them anything else. Call him greedy and possessive, he didn’t care. If he could, he’d keep the goodies to himself, but the grin that formed on your face when you received compliments on your baking stopped him.

Speaking of hands, Sylus enjoys the way your manicured, ballerina pink nails dig into his forearm as he takes you from behind. The next day, he’ll smile at the crest shapes that linger on his skin. 

It took a while for you to get comfortable riding on his motorcycle. The first few times, your face would be tucked against his back, hands wrapped tightly around his waist. Every turn had you letting out a quiet little eep.

He’d make sure to drive extra carefully when you were with him. You would’ve never thought this was the same guy who swerved in-between cars. 

His wallpaper would be a photo of you sitting on his favorite bike. The helmet you wore was too big, but your face looked adorable through the pushed-up visor. 

His helmet used to be a matte black with a mirrored red visor. And it still was, the only thing was that your initials had been engraved onto one side, along with your favorite flower. 

Because your safety was of the utmost importance to him, he made sure to buy you a helmet of the highest quality. 

One of your dates was him taking you to get your measurements for a custom-made helmet, ensuring it would fit you and you only.

While Sylus had the habit of playing with your hair absentmindedly while he chit chatted with his friends, you developed a habit of you own. You played with his long fingers, twisting the many rings he wore. 

Of course this leads to him asking about your fascination with his hands, making a comment about how they had been inside you a few hours ago. Your face burned while Xavier gave you two the meanest side eye.

Something he enjoys about you as your relationship continues is your personal growth in initiating affection. From hesitant kisses placed on his cheek to tenderly shared kisses. 

He’s happy to provide you with a safe space, basking in the trust you gave him. 

There were times were doubt and insecurity filled both of you. Out of all the people, why would you pick one another? Sylus should be with someone wild at heart. Who knew about motorcycles and could hold her own against bullies.

On the other hand, he tried to ignore the bitter taste of jealousy that would fill him when he saw you chatting with Zayne. He seemed more your type. Well educated and looked damn good in a suit. The type to take home to your parents. 

But you both wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sylus had someone to look after and you had someone who would instead of making fun of you for having so many stuffed animals, he’d make them pretend fight, giving each their own voice even though it sounded funny coming from someone with such a deep tone. 

There were even a few times that he’d show up at your front door, an adorable stuffed bunny with bows on its ears clutched within his fist while the other held a bag from your favorite patisserie.

Your poor stuffed animals would be traumatized if they saw the things he did to you or the positions he’d put you in. Thankfully, they’d either end up shoved off the bed or he’d turn them away, their beady little eyes hidden by your ruffled sheets. 

Credits belong to @syluspeach

Not edited

[abxssalwrites]

unfortunately never stopped fucking thinking about tartarus. months. and he's still fucking in the back of my mind. the things this version of sylus did to me should be studied for science. it's unhealthy.

tartarus is a fucking brat. he knew the power he had over you, and yet he wanted to see what you could do. in all honestly, he underestimated you. he didn't think you had any of this in you.

"You're such a brat," You tell him, exasperated as you pin him down in the birdcage. He had gotten a small whiff of frenzy enhancer and he was now all riled up, glaring at you with a hungry, ravenous look. He scoffs, his breath a bit heavy as he didn't even bother hiding the growls in his throat. nor did he bother hiding his steadily growing bulge in those slutty leather pants.

"What are you going to do about it? Huh?" He taunts and even has the nerve to chuckle. "Are you going to... punish me?" He's excited about the idea, you can tell. Your gaze lowers to his bulge for a second before you quirk a brow up. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I dare you to."

It's only then when he realizes he shouldn't have dared you to punish him.

"Fuck...! Fuckfuckfuck- goddammit..." His head hits the back of the birdcage, his chest heaving. Abs tightening and rolling and he can't stop his legs from moving, his hips from attempting to thrust into your hand. Though when he does buck, you remove your hand for a second around his leaky, throbbing cock and slap it instead, making him moan. "Told you to stop fucking bucking," you glare at him, returning your hand to edge him further.

You haven't allowed him to cum at all. You've been keeping the time, its been nearly 2 hours of this. Your hand stroking him off, fast, then slow, then fast again until he's right at the brink of cumming, and ruining his orgasm. You might reward him with your lips of tongue brushing over his precum leaking tip if he obeys and doesn't buck, but considering he's off frenzy enhancer and barely able to contain himself, he only got your mouth once.

"L-Let... hhrgh. Let me cum," He tries to use his words, crimson eyes dilated as he watches the beyond sloppy hand job you're giving him, the need to cum making him shake like a man vulnerable. Oh, but how fucking good it feels. He can't deny it. Edged until he's a mumbling mess of a preadator.

"Why should I? You think you deserve to cum?" Removing your hand again as you watch his cock throb and bounce as you ruin yet another orgasm. Such a small amount of cum dribbles from the tip. He whines, gives you a desperate look.

His hands aren't cuffed at all. He has full range of all of his limbs, and yet he doesn't touch himself. He wants you to touch him. Wants you to jerk him off. Wants you to suck his cock and he wants you to take his cum.

"Not using your words? That pleading look won't let you cum."

"Fuck, c'mon, you bit-"

You stop him before he even finishes, delivering a hard slap to his balls. The pain, but the pleasure nearly makes him cum. He groans, gripping the iron bars of the birdcage behind him.

"I'll chain you up and leave you here if you even dare to call me that again."

He huffs, face slightly scrunching, but he knows better than to try you again. He's a mess already.

"It's like you don't even know the word please." You shake your head and return your hand to his cock, stroking him quickly, catching him off guard for a moment. You watch his eyes roll back into his head before they close.

"Pl-Please. Pleaseeee. Let me c-cum, please." Ah, there was the begging, what you were looking for.

You sink down and take him into your mouth, down your throat. His body shutters, and you feel his hand grab your head. He can't help it. He's going to cum. Needs to before he loses his fucking mind even more. He begins to thrust his hips up into your mouth, moaning curses under his breath. It doesn't take long at all for him to push your head down so he's ball deep to cum.

His cock throbs, ropes of cum shooting down your throat as those hours of being edged catch up fully. You nearly struggle to swallow it all. Some bubbles out from the side of your mouth as he rides his orgasm out, finally.

He releases your head, leaning back against the cage, panting as if he'd been running for miles. Sweat drips down his forehead and he covers his face with a hand in an attempt to calm himself down.

You pull off his cock, scoffing faintly as you look at him with lips messy with his release.

He's a brat. But fortunately, he's your brat.

[dollgxtz]

Im stuck on the fic idea of boss!Sylus hiring a new housekeeper (that he saved from getting murdered) that desperately needed a job cause she’s broke and barely scraping by…the N109 Zone isn’t exactly known for a flourishing job market after all.

Sylus swears he’s imagining it. Are you showing your bra strap on purpose? Bending over to clean under the table so that he sees the hem of your panties? Or is he just a pervert? From the way you look up at him, pathetically struggle to reach high spots and even the way you lick your lips while eating your lunch. Everything you do…it’s driving him mental.

You’re so cute without even realizing it. You’ve got to be doing this little innocent act on purpose to rile him up right? He needs an excuse to get closer to you. He begins to wonder what you sound like with a finger or two inside you…

You’re oblivious to his attention at first, just trying to do your job and not overstep. He’s the leader of Onychinus after all…you don’t want to piss him off and get fired. But you can’t help but feel a little flustered when you feel his eyes on you one morning while you clean his office floor…

Sigh…the degenerate in me wants me to make this with dubcon elements and an obvious power dynamic that he’s well aware of and exploits to his advantage…I-I mean…who said that??? (•﹏•;)

[sylussyenjoyer]

if there’s one thing about sylus that drives you crazy, it’s his voice.

there’s just something so satisfying about hearing your name whispered into your ear from those soft, pink lips of his, especially when you know he’s just about at his limit.

why is he at his limit? oh, only a fool wouldn’t be able to grasp the situation. teasing him is second nature now, it’s only natural for you to be aware of the consequences. he’s all sorts of riled up but he won’t protest or pretend like he hates what you do to him - he couldn’t hide his love for it even if he tried, thanks to his laboured breathing and half hard cock making an appearance through his pants.

sylus never has to do much to put you in your place, and you can never really resist him in the end anyway, so when you want him to fuck you you just put on a show for him. you swear you can feel those red eyes bore into your exposed skin and you can almost smell the lust in the air, making the atmosphere feel thicker as the distance between you two virtually disappears.

he absolutely loves having you as his own personal entertainment - and that’s regardless of whether or not he gets to have his way with you at the end of the performance.

“just what does my bad girl need from me, hm?”

when he’s grinding himself up against you from behind, gently biting your ear while his hands gravitate towards your chest and inner thighs you can’t pretend you don’t want him to take you right then and there. when you hear him say those words you know you want him to ruin you and make you his own for all of eternity.

the truth is though, you’re both as bad as each other. sylus knows you would let him use you until the end, but in the same breath he would never deny needing you and wanting to be yours too. he’d get so desperate during work that he’d put everything on hold if it meant he could have a taste of your pussy, and the fact that he knows that isn’t something he’s ever willing to shy away from - he wants to be inside you whenever he can.

in conclusion, you and sylus are both whores. and i think thats beautiful! <3

also LOOK at these shots god i cannot wait to upgrade my phone so i can take even higher quality ones zoo wee mama

[freakalot]

“smile for the camera, baby!” ☆

as if you could.

caleb is all too cocky about your inability to do anything but lay beneath him all slack-jawed and shaky as he drills his cock into you despite your overstimulation.

you’re so fucked out that you can’t even muster up the energy or mindpower to regret gifting your boyfriend and polaroid camera for his birthday. you had brought it with romance in mind—he’s away so often for such long periods at a time that you thought a few sweet photos he can carry in the lining of his uniform jacket would be a nice idea.

but caleb, the amalgamation of all things desperate and horny, couldn’t wait five minutes after unwrapping his gift to start unwrapping you as well. each layer of clothing discarded he’d reward with a photo of your revealed skin until he was trying to finesse a way to hold the camera with one hand as the other pumped his fingers mercilessly into your cunt.

now, hours later, you’re laying on a bed of polaroids, each more lewd than the last. one digs into your skin while another is jostled off the bed with the hard thrusts of your boyfriends leaky cock into your (regrettably) still-needy pussy. the effect this man has on you is unreasonable—you’ve cum so many times that you can’t form a coherent thought and still you think you’d cry if he pulled out and denied you the stretch of his cock.

flash. another shot is taken, this one of your glossy eyes and drool-soaked lips.

“you’re so messy,” he teases like his dick isn’t shining with the sweet mixture of your releases—like he’s not spat on your cunt just to rub load after load of cum around your clit in sick circles that make you choke on your breath. what an asshole he is.

“gonna make you cum again, pips,” he grins, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “i want to see if i can catch you squirting in a pic, hm?”

you part your kiss-swollen lips to protest. “cant—“ is all you can manage though, before your boyfriend, your best friend, is squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers and frowning down at you.

“don’t doubt yourself, pretty, you can do anything if you set your mind to it!”

pep talk of the century. you’d laugh at him if you had half your mind left, but all you have the space to think about is how he’s never gotten quite this deep inside of you before. you don’t even process the way he’s driven your hips up with his thighs to feel even more of you around him.

so perfect, he calls you. and even though he’s fucking you erratically, once he feels the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he’s all smiles. sweet glossy eyes brimming with needy tears, flushed cheeks, soft brows… the man with his cock so deep inside of you that you’re seeing stars, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead as you orgasm.

it’s too much. you choke on it, you feel it in every bone in your body and still you crave more of him. you squirt around his cock with a moan made for porn and caleb feels like a hormonal virgin all over again.

click. another pic; one that prints to be fanned out immediately—one hand flapping the print through the air as the other one rubs slow circles on your tummy as he tries to feel himself pushing inside of you.

once it finally develops enough to gift caleb with the sight of your spread legs and the mess of lust between them, you swear he grows even harder inside of you.

“yeah,” your idiot of a man grins. “this one’s going on my wall.”

[crowfish-brainrot]

Mistakes Were Made Part 2

Adrenaline can make people lusty, and that's what inspired this fic. Also, if I was MC, my sexy self would be fuckin' all five of these men until I got into a relationship bc I am weak and they are too hot to not. Soooo, this might get kinda messy, but it'll end in a good (poly?) place.

CONTENT NOTES FOR ALL PARTS: 18+ MDNI. LaDs men x MC (you), Casual Sex, Pre-relationship, Complicated Feelings All Around. Smut & Angst. Smut with Feelings. No use of Y/N. Possibly ooc bc I'm still getting back into fanfic. Oral f&m receiving, p in v, unprotected sex bc its fiction, creampies, softdom!Xavier, brattamer!Zayne, brattyswitch!Rafayel, switch!Sylus, dom!Caleb brattyswitch!MC, but it's all fluid imo. light bond*ge, sp*nking, size difference, overstimulation, improper use of evol, semi-public sex. Nicknames used in all parts: canon nicknames as well as bunny, princess, love, & darling. F reader. MC is described as being curvy and strong with some fuller titties bc I love titties. Possibly MMF if I get to a part 6 Unedited. You get this raw (just like our Lads!)

Xavier | Zayne (this part) | Rafayel | Sylus | Caleb

You really didn't know how you kept ending up in this situations. It's not like you planned it. Especially not with your childhood-crush turned primary care physician, Zayne.

Seeing him always made your heart flip. Zayne was devastatingly handsome. Tall, with broad shoulders, and a calm, soothing voice that gave you butterflies. Those hazel eyes of his always seemed to know when you were up to something, and when he smiled? Gods. You'd run headfirst into trouble for a glimpse of that little smirk of his any day of the week.

Zayne's calm, cool energy turned out to be exactly what you needed after your hectic week. He was probably the most stable person you knew, energy-wise. His quick wit and dry humor kept you entertained, and when he got serious? Yeah, that was nice too. Maybe you still had a teeny crush on him after all these years. How could you not when he was a dream in countless ways?

He took you to a new boutique bakery that specialized in deserts in a small mountain town a few hours outside of Linkon. You both mentioned wanting to get out and enjoy the weather, and it turned out that this tiny town also had access to several beautiful hiking trails. You made a whole day trip out of it, with plans to spend the night in the area.

You spent the majority of the afternoon catching up with him and all the things life had thrown at you recently. He got very quiet after you mentioned visiting Caleb in Skyhaven. He claimed it was because you disappeared for days in first time you went, and he worried for your safety. Which, was fair. You tried to explain to Zayne that it was a misunderstanding on Caleb's part, but he wouldn't hear it.

Apparently the two men 'caught up' shortly after that, but neither would tell you what happened. The two were best friends up until Zayne left, and you wondered if you could get them both to hang out with you sometime soon. For old time's sake, and possibly to clear the air.

"You're plotting something," Zayne said.

"Me?" You batted your eyelashes as innocently as possible. "I never plot anything. I don't know what you mean."

Zayne sighed, but that little smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as he nibbled on one of the various treats on the platter before you. "It's cute you still think you can hide your schemes from me."

That smirk. The fact that he said you were cute. Gods, it did things to you. Terrible things that made you want to push his buttons. You took a sip of the tea you ordered and once again listed every reason you should explicitly not do that.

First, you and Zayne were friends. Good friends. Second, he was your fucking doctor and there were probably ethics or something that put you on his "absolutely not" list. You’d be lying if you said the white coat did nothing for you, though. Third, you had a fuck buddy in Xavier. It wasn't exclusive or anything, but your impulsive decisions had already led you to him, and you really shouldn't complicate things that did not need to be complicated. Like your relationship with Zayne.

It was nice to hang out with him. Familiar in a way you missed greatly after the explosion. Caleb was so different now it was hard to face him sometimes, but Zayne? Zayne was steady. Stable. So much the same as he'd always been, and you needed that.

All those reasons went out the window less than four hours after you came up with them.

After your sweet treat, you and Zayne walked around the small town, taking in all the sights and enjoying your time together when your Hunter's Watch went off.

Wanderer attacks were a normal part of life. Flux stabilizers did a good job, but it wasn't always enough. It’s why you never went anywhere unarmed. Did you need to pack five weapons with you everywhere you went? Yes. Yes you did.

Thanks to you and Zayne, the wanderer situation was handled quickly without any casualties. He wasn't as fast as you in combat, so you took a few hits for him to keep him out of harm's way. The fight wasn't particularly hard, but it was unexpected and adrenaline still surged through you. It was only made worse when Zayne gave you that look. The one that said you were in trouble.

"You should not have taken that hit for me," he said, his voice icy cold as he helped you into the car.

You huffed. "I'm fine. I've gotten hurt way worse than this."

"Overusing your Evol isn't good for your health, and neither is acting like a human shield." Zayne buckled you in then sighed. "If this is how you fight all the time, I have more reasons to worry."

"I'm not overusing anything, and like I said, I'm fine. I don't even think I need any stitches this time. A few over the counter painkillers and some rest and I won't feel it in the morning."

"Just because you convinced me not to take you to the emergency room does not mean I won't check you over myself when we get to the hotel. You need to be more careful," Zayne said.

You hid your burning cheeks by looking down at your lap. "Yes, Doctor."

He hummed and ruffled your hair. "That's better."

He got into the car and headed toward the hotel. Your heart raced. All the adrenaline turned into molten heat that pulsed between your thighs, you regretted it. This was becoming a problem.

Thoughts of Zayne checking you over for wounds, his slightly cool hands on your bare skin, and that intense look in his eyes when he worried about you filled your mind. Your thoughts were not helping your situation, and if anything, it only made you wetter.

Maybe you'd call Xavier before you turned in for the night to address the need that coiled low in your stomach. It wasn't ideal, but you couldn't be impulsive again. You'd never forgive yourself if you ruined your friendship with Zayne just for a quick fuck.

Your already lust-addled mind disagreed, though, and you spent most of the ride to the hotel silent. Your thoughts were full of what it'd be like to be in between calm but jealous Xavier and cool, level-headed Zayne...

"Are you alright?" Zayne asked as the car came to a stop in the hotel parking garage. "You're flushed and staring off into space."

"I...uh..."

He reached into the back seat and grabbed his first aid kit—because of course he had one—and pulled out the thermometer. You stopped him before he could turn it on. Zayne only stared at you, his eyes hard in the way they were when he tried to mask his concern.

"I'm fine. It's just warm out today and I forgot to drink water," you said.

"I'm going to have to send you reminders to make you hydrate yourself, aren't I? Those energy drinks you love so much are terrible for your heart," he chided.

"I know," you sighed.

Half an hour later, you were checked into the hotel and sat on the bed in your room, freshly showered and in a sports bra and loose shorts so Zayne could tend to the gash along your ribs. It wasn't deep, but wander claws were nasty things, and the last thing you needed was an infection. He bandaged you up with care, his cool hands soothing on your overheated skin.

Having Zayne so close made you more anxious. Your heart raced under your breast, thundering louder in your ears every time he touched your skin. Zayne was nothing but professional, but your mind loved to hang out in the gutter, and it made its home there now. All you could think about were the sounds those steady hands of his could pull out of you...

You blinked when a cup of ice water appeared in front of your face.

"Drink the entire thing," Zayne commanded.

You did as you were told without hesitation. The cool water helped clear your head a little, and you polished off the glass. You passed it back to his waiting hand.

"Good girl," he praised. "I'll refill this and be right back."

Oh gods. Zayne just good girl'd you. Whatever hope you had of cooling off this desire went up in flames. There was no way he knew what that term did to you, especially coming from him. It slipped out. A little bit of praise because you didn’t argue with him for once. That's all it was. You did your best to convince yourself of that, but your pussy pulsed his name.

Zayne left the room. You knew he'd be right back, and you didn’t exactly have time to deal with the problem pulsing between your thighs. At least, not completely, but maybe you could take the edge off?

Maybe you were high strung. Maybe all of this came on from the adrenaline of an unexpected fight. Or maybe, you had too many painfully attractive men in your life and a high libido you tried to ignore. The reason didn’t matter, not when the result was the same. You needed to come, ideally before you did something stupid.

You snuck into the bathroom and closed the door. The shorts you wore slid off your thighs and you rubbed your clit in firm, quick circles. You didn’t have time to draw out your pleasure, and you couldn’t be loud, just in case Zayne came back.

You were drenched, each touch made a soft, wet noise echo through the small bathroom. You didn’t mean to imagine Zayne’s fingers in place of yours, or his voice in your ear telling you what a good girl you were being for him. You bet he’d make you beg to come, and that sent you over the edge of your hurried release.

You didn’t realize you moaned his name out loud until the door opened.

His face went scarlet, and the door closed before you regained enough awareness to realize what happened. The moment you did? You wanted to melt into the aether and die.

Zayne heard you moan his name as you came. Caught you with your fingers buried in your cunt. He likely came into the bathroom because you said his name, and then he got an eyeful. Yeah. Death sounded good right about now.

You slipped your shorts back up, washed your hands and your face, then opened the bathroom door. Zayne faced the window, away from you. His broad shoulders looked too damn good in the deep green button down he wore, and you looked away.

“I…The adrenaline after a fight…” you stuttered, in an attempt to explain yourself. “I get extra energy, and I need to work it out, so…”

He said nothing. Didn’t react. You gulped. Without the ability to see his face, you didn’t have as much as a hint of what he was thinking. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

“That is a natural response,” he said, his voice low. “For some people, it can be quite intense.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you huffed.

“The most surprising thing to me is that it was my name on your lips.” Zayne’s voice didn’t falter. He kept that same calm, cool tone, and your head spun.

You called me a good girl, it’s not my fault. You’re too hot for your own good. You take care of me, and it makes me wet. All were things you wanted to say, but you couldn’t make yourself actually verbalize the words. So you settled for the only truth you could muster. “You weren’t supposed to hear me.”

He turned to face you, that damned smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “I imagine I was not. Now that I have, what do you want to do about it?”

The question took a full ten seconds for your mind to register. “What?”

“The way I see it, we have three options,” he said. “First, we can pretend this never happened. Second, we acknowledge this, but take the night to gather ourselves. Third…”

“Third..?”

“Third, I assist you. I’m clearly on your mind, and something so rushed likely wasn't enough to calm you down."

Your mouth hung open in shock. You weren’t sure what you expected from reserved Doctor Zayne, but this was not it. Your mouth opened and closed several times, and the man chuckled as you tried to process.

“Is it really such a hard choice, darling?”

You short circuited. Did you pass out and fall into your dirtiest fantasy? If so, Sylus would walk through the door in three, two, one…

Ah. So this was real, then.

The smart thing to do would’ve been option one. Pretend it never happened and go back to normal. Option two wouldn’t have been too bad either, but you didn’t want either of those. No, you wanted option three. Because he was right. Your fingers did almost nothing to ease the ache.

“It’s hard to believe that three is an option,” you murmured.

“I couldn’t hear that. Speak up,” he commanded. Not harsh, but firm. Steady in the way that made you want to obey him.

You repeated yourself. Louder this time and Zayne smiled. He approached you, his large hand reaching out to push your hair out of your face.

“You should know by now how much I care about you,” he said. “I don’t spend my rare days off with just anyone, Miss Hunter.”

You should’ve stopped him right there. He admitted to having feelings for you. Given both your positions and busy schedules, that should’ve been the end of it, but no. Your heart thrummed that stupid rhythm it did for him.

“I never thought you’d be bold enough to say such a thing, Doctor Zayne.” You took two steps closer to him, and held your arms behind your back as you smiled up in his direction.

"I never expected to hear you moan my name, yet here we are." He cupped your cheek, the coolness of his hand a welcome balm against your heated skin. "I confess that hearing it has made me bolder. Do you like it?"

"Very much." You took another step closer to him. The part of your mind that still clung to rational thought screamed "do not fuck your doctor", but you were so good at ignoring that voice. Zayne -- your forever crush -- looked at you like you were the sweetest treat he'd ever seen. You couldn't deny him or yourself from taking something you both wanted.

"Allow me to make another bold move, then." Zayne held your face as he closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a tender kiss, and you melted. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his free hand settled around your bare waist.

Your fingers tangled in his thick black hair, and he groaned against your lips. The sound sent sparks of pleasure straight down your spine, and you pressed yourself against him, needing more, but unable to break the kiss and ask for it. You whimpered against his mouth, the sound desperate and needy.

Zayne's fingers trembled on your waist, then his grip on you became tighter, his lips hungrier as he devoured you. He stepped into you, and you followed his lead, moving backwards toward the bed. Your thighs hit the mattress and Zayne's hand traced up your ribs to your sports bra. His fingers hooked under the band, and he held there, waiting for you to object.

Your soft whine urged him forward, and his deft hands slipped the garment off your body. He pulled away from your lips and kissed down your neck. Pleasure hummed down your spine. You tilted your head to the side to grant him better access, and he took it, planting hungry kisses down to your chest.

His eyes darkened once he got to your tits, and his large, cool hands cupped them. He kneaded them as his fingers rolled your nipples. A broken moan left you, and you shuddered. He continued his kisses down your chest, to your stomach, to the waistband of your shorts. Again, he waited there, his eyes meeting yours.

"Zayne," you whined.

"Do you want something from me, Miss Hunter?" Zayne smiled up at you, mirth gleaming vibrantly in his hazel eyes. "If you need something, speak up."

You whimpered, and Zayne pulled back. Not far, but just enough. He shook his head and hummed. "I didn't catch that. Try again."

Heat bloomed across your face, and you couldn't find the bravery to speak the words. Your fingers looped around your waistband, but before you could push your shorts down, Zayne had both your wrists in one hand. He shot you a look. The stern one that made your stomach flutter. The added glint of amusement in them made your pussy pulse around nothing and pulled another whine from your throat.

"Behave, darling. All you have to do is tell me what you want. If you can't do that, how will I know what I'm allowed to do with you?"

You can do anything you want to me -- the words burned on your tongue, but despite their accuracy, you weren't sure if Zayne was ready to match the level of degenerate you were. He surprised you this far, but how high did your calm, stable doctor's freak flag fly? Unsure, you contained yourself for now. You swallowed and tried to find your voice. "Take them off."

"Where are your manners?"

"Take my shorts off, please."

"Better. Good girl." Zayne released your wrists and slowly peeled the shorts off your body, leaving you only in your soaked-through pale blue panties.

His praise did terrible things to your already lust-addled brain. You needed him to touch you, but he didn't move. Instead, his unwavering gaze stayed on your face, seemingly waiting for you to once again tell him what you wanted.

"Zayne!" you whined. "You're being mean to me!"

"I'm being mean to you?" he asked, his smirk growing wider. "How?"

"You know what to do, but you're not doing it," you pouted, your eyes going wide.

"I told you what you need to do if you want something. Were my instructions unclear?"

"No," you grumbled.

He raised one brow, just slightly, and waited.

"Take my panties off too. Touch me. Give me your hands, your mouth, your cock, I'll take it all, just please touch me. Please?"

"Was that so hard, darling?" He pulled your panties off in one smooth motion, but his eyes never left your face.

"Yes," you pouted.

"I reward good behavior," he said as he sank to his knees in front of the bed. "Would you say you've been good?"

The sight of a fully clothed, calm Dr. Zayne sat down between your thighs made you dizzy. He looked so put together, his hair only slightly mused from your fingers, his shirt still fully buttoned, and glasses still straight. His large hands settled on your hips, anchoring you in place. Distracted by the sight of him, you didn't respond. A sharp, firm smack landed over your right tit, and you squeaked. It didn't hurt, but it left a delightful sting behind that sent pleasure dancing up your spine.

"I asked you a question. I expect a response."

"I've been on my best behavior," you said.

Zayne chuckled, a rare sound from him and great gods even that did things to you. One long finger slipped inside your slippery pussy and you moaned. Loud. He cursed under his breath at the way your needy cunt pulsed around his finger. He slowly worked you open, and one finger became two. He curled his fingers just right, and fingered you with a steady, even pressure.

His thumb found your clit, rubbing in small circles. The pressure was perfect, and each time he pressed in on your clit his fingers inside you curled forward. Your wetness leaked out around his fingers, the filthy sounds filled the air. His hazel eyes focused on your cunt, focused on the way you took him.

“You’re opening up so well for me, darling. Just a little more and you can have my cock.”

You fisted the sheets, long, low moans stuttering out of your lips. “Please, please give me your cock!”

He chuckled. “You want it bad, don’t you? You clenched around my fingers quite hard.”

“Yes, yes please!”

"I want to make sure I don't hurt you, so you need to stretch just a little more," he said, his voice steady and grounding in your ears.

You whined as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace. You never let yourself imagine his cock, but you were now. He didn't want to hurt you? Did he have a cock or a weapon?

When a third finger slipped inside you, you were almost certain he had to have possessed the latter. Zayne worked you up toward you peak slowly. Methodically. Each stroke of his fingers and every ounce of pressure he put on your clit was done with precision.

You cried out his name as your peak approached, the slow drag up toward it making your anticipation for the drop all the more intense.

"Do you want to come for me, darling?" Zayne asked.

"Yes!" you moaned.

"I don't know if you've earned it. You keep mouthing off, not responding, accusing me of being mean to you. Does that sound like someone who deserves to come?"

"Zayne," you whined, dragging out the vowels in his name until you ran out of breath. "Please!"

"Beg. Convince me you deserve it."

Your fantasy blended into reality. You knew he'd be the type to make you beg. But, like the stretch of his fingers and the punishing pace he set, your imagination paled in the reality of the real thing.

"Zayne please, let me come! I need it. Pretty please? I'm so close. Won't you please let me come for you? I've been so good, please! Please, Zayne, please let me come so I can take your cock. Please!"

"Fuck," Zayne cursed, low and breathless. "Come for me pretty girl. Let me feel you."

His permission and soft praise sent you rushing over the edge. You came with a choked cry of his name. The orgasm tore through you, your entire body shuddered with the force of it.

"That's my good girl, just like that," Zayne praised. His talented fingers didn't stop until the wave of pleasure receded, and he slowly slipped his fingers out of you. His entire hand and the sheets below you were soaked in your come. He lifted his soaked fingers to your lips. "Clean them."

Your mouth opened. His steady gaze focused on your mouth as his fingers slipped inside. You licked them clean, running your tongue over both sides, cleaning off every drop.

"You're so well behaved right after you come." Zayne pulled his fingers out of your mouth and took his glasses off. He folded them up and set them on the nightstand before returning to his place in front of you. With slow, careful movements, he unbuttoned his shirt. You swallowed hard when his toned chest came into view. His shirt drifted to the floor, and you watched, entranced, as he removed his belt with one hand. The leather snapped and you moaned. Zayne laughed softly. "My favorite little brat likes the belt. I suppose that takes it off the list of punishments, then."

"It can still be a punishment," you said.

"Perhaps," Zayne said as he made quick work of the button of his pants. The slacks fell down his muscular thighs, and you got your first good look at the absolute weapon he had between his legs.

You needed three of his fingers to stretch you out. Thick and long, even seeing it under his boxers made you dizzy. He pushed his underwear down, and your jaw hit the floor.

As thick around as your balled fist and long, your cervix ached just looking at it. Zayne pumped his cock lazily a few times, and you swallowed. He kneeled down on the bed between your spread thighs. His massive body leaned over you and he planted one, soft kiss on your lips. When his eyes met yours, there was a deeper level of seriousness in them. Whatever bedroom game you two were playing set to the side.

"Are you sure you want this?" Zayne asked.

You returned his kiss. Despite all the reasons you shouldn't have done this, you weren't backing out now. You'd wanted Zayne for a long time, and now that you had him hard and throbbing against your pussy? You weren't going back. "I'm sure. I want you, Zayne. Please."

He notched his cock at your entrance, and those stunning hazel eyes locked onto your face as he slowly sunk inside you. The stretch of his cock stole your breath away, and you whimpered. He paused, his brows drawing together. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Feels good. So. Good," you panted.

"Tell me if it hurts," he said.

"Yes, sir."

He groaned as his hips stuttered forward. Zayne moved slow, so slow, giving your body ample time to adjust to his size. His cock seemed to go on forever, but eventually, his hips met yours. Fully seated inside you, he leaned over you on his forearms. He was so deep the head of his cock pressed against your cervix, and all thoughts melted out of your mind.

"Look at me," he commanded.

You hadn't realized your eyes closed. You opened them obediently, and looked up at him as he slowly rolled his hips.

"Good girl. Keep your eyes on me."

Too full of him to consider anything else, you obeyed, your eyes glued to his as he fucked into you in slow, deep thrusts. You wrapped your legs around him, preventing him from pulling all the way out. He stayed deep and the shallow, firm thrusts punched the air out of your lungs.

“Zayne,” you moaned. “You’re so deep!”

He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock all the way inside you. Zayne held there, the deep pressure on your cervix both blissful and sweetly painful. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, but you couldn’t stop the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“How does it feel to have me here, darling?”

“So good, Zayne. You feel so fucking good,” you babbled, the words coming out in choked moans with every thrust he made.

“The way you say my name is intoxicating. Do it again.” Zayne thrust forward, hard, and you cried out his name. “Fuck. Again.”

You clutched onto his strong arms and cried out his name each time he thrust into you. His pace picked up, his thrusts remaining just as hard, but now they had speed. The wet slap of your bodies meeting filled the air. One hand kept him upright, and the other traced down your body to your clit.

You were a mess, moaning his name over and over again as he pounded into you. Every deep thrust stretched you to your limit, almost beyond what you could take. Zayne’s deep thrusts paired with the firm, steady circle of his fingers on your clit pushed your closer and closer to the edge.

“Can I come, please?” you begged.

“What a good girl you are, asking so politely. I’m feeling generous today. Come for me, darling. Soak my cock.”

Your mind blanked out, and you had no choice but to obey the steady command. You came around him with a cry of his name. You squeezed him so tightly, he couldn’t help but follow you. He barely pulled out in time. Thick, sticky ropes of come splattered over your stomach, reaching up to your heaving tits. He came so much, your head spun and your pussy ached from how hard you clenched.

You both caught your breath in the aftermath, the warmth of pleasure rolling through you. Zayne broke the silence first. His large, cool hand cupped your cheek.

“Are you alright? Do you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m amazing,” you hummed. “Nothing hurts.”

“I wasn’t too rough with you?”

“You can be a lot rougher, if you wanted to. I’m sturdier than I look.”

The slight bit of tension in Zayne’s shoulders eased. “Good. I’ll be right back.”

He planted a soft kiss on your forehead and vanished from your sight. When he returned, he had a warm, wet cloth and he cleaned you up with gentle hands. He then passed you a full glass of water with instructions to drink. You obeyed, and he tucked you into bed.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you nestled into the pillows.

“You don’t need to thank me for taking care of you,” he said.

“I know, that doesn’t make me any less grateful.”

He kissed your forehead, then settled in the bed beside you. You curled up under his arm and hummed, content.

“To be clear, I have no expectations as for what happens now. We are both busy adults, and we are friends. I’m happy to help you in any way you need me. Like this, or otherwise.” Zayne pulled you closer. “Aftercare is vital. I will stay here as long as you need.”

His words took a massive weight off your shoulders. Xavier didn’t handle your denial of anything more, and you worried Zayne would be the same. Knowing that he was of the same mind that you were let you relax further.

“Thank you for saying that. Casual sex is great for our situation. It’s not like either one of us have time to prioritize a relationship right now.” You hadn’t had more than a single day off in weeks, and for Zayne..? Likely months. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He hummed, the sound affirmative. He held you in comfortable silence for a long while after. It was better like this. As much as you cared about him, you both really were far too busy.

Yet, for some reason, your heart ached when he returned to his room.

A/N: Zayne is my #3, and I love him sm! Since this was their first time having sex, I didn’t do too much bratting, but it will come if I do another part that includes Zayne! I want to do one of these with each LI before we start getting into overlap territory, and if we get there or not really depends on how much y'all want that. So, lmk! Either way, the next part of this series is going to be all about our favorite Artist. One of my mains, our dearest fishie. I just know that one is going to be fun all around!

Masterlist | Next Part

[kannady]

Genuinely love the Ever, Ever After series. Reading every paragraph of it has me clutching to my pearls <3 I LOVE IT SO MUCHH SHIWJEIEJW

ever, ever after

pairing: sylus x non-mc reader

summary: sylus didn't love you. how could he when she was around? but would he come look for you if you willingly step into EVER's boundaries?

word count: 4k

a/n: okay so! an early update cus ill be super busy and tired tomorrow, then squid game s3 will be coming out AND a lads update is coming out on friday with fans heavily speculating we'll get a sneak peak of the sixth li. so im guessing we'll all be super busy. i really hope ur enjoying this series and TYSM ANON you literally made my day!! i hope you enjoy this chapter as well. lemme know your thoughts!

read rest of the chapters here!

III

Your heart sank like a stone in water as Dr. Voss’s expression shifted. A slow, chilling transformation from  curiosity to something far more dangerous. His cold eyes flicked from you to Sylus, still restrained behind the glass, then back to you, and in that split second, you knew. 

Oh, shit. I’m done for.

But survival instincts kicked in, sharp and automatic. You straightened your spine, forcing your voice into something resembling professionalism.

"I was just checking his vitals before lunch," you said, gesturing to the monitors with a steadiness you didn’t feel. "His levels plateaued. The serum isn’t affecting his Evol anymore. I thought-" A breath, calculated. "I should ask if he was experiencing any side effects. Protocol 9-D, right? Patient-reported data?"

The lie slithered out smoother than you expected. Voss’s eyebrow arched, his gaze lingering on you for a heartbeat too long before he stepped closer to the observation window. The silence stretched, suffocating, as he scrutinized the vitals himself. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head, the suspicion coiling tighter.

Then, miraculously, he nodded. "You’re right." His voice was clipped, but the tension in your shoulders eased a fraction. "We’ll halt administration. Clearly, this batch isn’t potent enough." He turned to you, and for the first time in your two years at EVER, something resembling approval flickered in his expression. "Good catch, Dr. (Y/N)."

The praise should’ve felt like a victory. Instead, it sat heavy in your chest. You nodded stiffly, avoiding Sylus’s gaze, but you could feel it, burning into you like a brand. Even now, even half-drugged and strapped to a chair, he was watching. Waiting.

You mumbled an excuse about lunch and all but bolted from the lab, the doors hissing shut behind you. The hallway was deserted, the fluorescent lights humming softly overhead. For a moment, you just stood there, pressing your palms to your eyes until stars burst behind your lids. 

What the hell am I doing?

Your phone was in your hand before you could second-guess it. Luke’s number rang once, twice, then disconnected. Kieran’s didn’t even go through. You stared at the screen, your reflection warped in the black glass. A new, ugly thought slithered into your mind. What if he didn’t come alone?

Sylus didn’t do anything without a plan. And if he was here, in EVER’s clutches, then where was she? The woman whose laughter had haunted you long after you’d left. The woman he’d loved in some other life, maybe even in this one.

Your fingers tightened around the phone. What if this was all part of some elaborate scheme, and you were just a pawn again? A distraction. What if she was waiting in the shadows, ready to step in the moment EVER’s defenses crumbled?

The idea should’ve infuriated you. Instead, it just made you tired. Two years of running, of building a life where you were finally someone else, and here you were, right back where you started. Caught between Sylus’s games and EVER’s cruelty, with no idea which side would destroy you first.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket and started walking, your heels clicking a sharp, staccato rhythm against the tile. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Because whether this was a trap or some twisted reunion, one thing was certain. You were already in too deep to walk away now.

Your lungs burned with the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The immediate crisis was over, Voss had bought your lie, at least for now. But the relief was temporary, fragile as glass. You knew what came next. A stronger serum. A more aggressive extraction. And Sylus, proud, untouchable Sylus, wouldn’t survive it.

The thought sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through you, your pulse hammering so loudly you were half-convinced the entire lab could hear it. What do I do?

Luke and Kieran weren’t answering. That left only one option.

Her.

Her very presence had been like a blade pressed to your ribs, a constant reminder that no matter how close you stood to him, you would never be the one he truly saw.

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at your sides. She worked at the Hunters Association, you remembered that much. But you couldn’t go now. Not in broad daylight, not when you didn’t even know her name. The realization was a bitter pill. Two years of resentment, of stolen glances and silent comparisons, and you’d never even learned what her name was.

No, you’d have to wait. Slip away after hours, linger near the building’s exits like some kind of stalker, and hope to catch her leaving. The idea made your skin crawl, but what other choice did you have?

For now, you forced yourself to move, to slip back into the rhythm of your day like nothing was wrong. Mara had mentioned a new restaurant, some place with dumplings she’d been raving about. You went, more out of obligation than hunger, sliding into a seat just as the lunch rush began to thin.

The food arrived, steam curling off the plates in fragrant spirals. You picked up your chopsticks, took a single bite, and then just stopped. The flavors blurred together, tasteless as ash. Your mind was elsewhere, spinning in frantic circles.

What if she doesn’t help? What if she laughs in your face? What if she’s the reason he’s here in the first place?

You pushed the food around your plate, your appetite long gone. Around you, the restaurant buzzed with conversation, the clatter of dishes, the occasional burst of laughter. None of it reached you. You were trapped in your own head, drowning in scenarios that all ended the same way, with Sylus’s lifeless body on an exam table, and your hands stained with the consequences.

By the time you made it back to the facility, lunch had bled into the afternoon, the sky outside the windows already darkening toward evening. You barely had time to stash your bag at your workstation before the alert chimed on your tablet.

“Emergency meeting. Conference Room A. 5 minutes.”

Your stomach dropped.

You knew, even before you stepped through the doors, what this was about. The room was already half-full, researchers murmuring to each other in hushed, excited tones. Voss stood at the front, his expression unreadable as he tapped something into a holoscreen.

Then he looked up, and his gaze landed squarely on you.

“Now that we’re all here,” he said, his voice cool and precise, “let’s discuss Phase Two.”

The screen behind him flickered to life, revealing a new formula, twice as complex as the last, with a list of side effects that made your blood run cold.

Cardiac arrest. Cerebral hemorrhage. Ischemic stroke.

Voss’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “We begin testing tomorrow.”

Across the room, Mara caught your eye, her brows furrowed in concern. You realized, distantly, that your hands were shaking.

You curled them into fists.

The meeting passed in a blur of muffled voices and flickering holoscreens. Words like "enhanced serum" and "immediate testing" caught your attention once in a while, meaningless noises against the roaring in your skull. You sat stiff-backed in your chair, fingers clenched around your tablet hard enough to leave imprints, your mind a thousand miles away, trapped behind that observation glass, watching Sylus’s body convulse under the serum’s assault.

When the meeting ended, you stood mechanically, following the stream of researchers out the door like a robot rehearsing actions. Your footsteps echoed down the hallway, perfectly measured, your body moving on autopilot while your thoughts spiraled.

What were you going to do?

The question looped in your head, but there was no answer. No plan. Just the crushing weight of what was coming, the knowledge that tomorrow, they would strap Sylus back into that chair and pump him full of something even worse. And you would have to watch.

A hand closed around your wrist, yanking you sideways into a dim storage room. The door hissed shut behind you, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented, as Mara’s face swam into focus. Her usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by something sharp and searching.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, voice low. “You’ve been zoning out all day. And in there?” She jerked her chin toward the conference room. “You looked like you were about to vomit.”

Your throat tightened. I can’t tell her. The truth was a grenade in your hands, pull the pin, and everything would blow apart. Mara was your friend, maybe the closest thing you had to one in this place, but this? This was too big. Too dangerous.

“It’s just…” You swallowed, scrambling for something, anything, that wasn’t a lie but wasn’t the whole truth either. “This is serious stuff we’re doing now. I can’t- I don’t know if I can take it.”

Mara’s eyebrow arched. “Excuse me?” She crossed her arms, leaning back against a shelf of sterile supplies. “What about the other experiments you performed? The neural overwrites? The memory wipes?” Her voice dropped, almost mocking. “Those didn’t bother you?”

The words hit like a slap.

She was right. You had done worse. Writen protocols that scraped a person’s mind clean, designed machines that could drain the blood out of the subjects with a few clicks. But those subjects had been monsters, rapists, murderers, traffickers from the N109 Zone’s darkest corners. You’d seen their files. Known what they’d done. It had been easy, then, to tell yourself you were making the world better.

But Sylus? Sylus was different.

What exactly was he to you?

The question lodged in your chest like a bullet.

Mara sighed when you didn’t answer, pushing off the shelf. “Look, I won’t push. But get it together.” Her gaze flicked to the door, then back to you, uncharacteristically serious. “I noticed first because we’re friends. The moment someone else does? You’re in trouble.”

She left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her, and just like that, you were alone.

The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. You slumped against the wall, your legs suddenly unsteady, the cold metal biting through your lab coat. Your tablet slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor, but you didn’t bother picking it up.

You couldn’t walk away now. Couldn’t pretend you hadn’t seen him. Couldn’t let them kill him.

But helping him? That meant betraying EVER. Meant throwing away everything you’d built, your career, your safety, the fragile peace you’d carved out for yourself.

And for what?

For the man who’d watched you walk away two years ago and hadn’t followed?

Your hands trembled. You pressed them to your face, your breath coming too fast, too shallow.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, a voice whispered. You already know the answer.

You’d known it the moment you saw him behind that glass.

You were going to burn your life to the ground for him.

And the worst part was you didn’t even know why.

You slipped out of the storage room with measured steps. The hallway was empty, the hum of distant conversations and clicking keyboards the only sounds. Okay, you’ve got this. 

The plan formed in your mind like a lifeline. After work, you’d go to the Hunter’s Association. Even if Sylus had some grand scheme in motion, you needed to know. And then? Then you’d step away. Wash your hands of this mess.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before pushing open the lab doors. Inside, the scene was exactly as you’d left it, researchers hunched over glowing screens, fingers flying across tablets, the air thick with the sterile scent of ozone and disinfectant. No one looked up as you entered. No one except Mara.

Her gaze met yours for a brief moment before she deliberately turned back to her work. The unspoken "get it together" was evident on her face. You forced yourself to move, crossing the room to your workstation.

The observation window drew your attention like a magnet. Empty, of course. Sylus wasn’t there, why would he be? The serum testing was done for the day, and EVER had no reason to keep him in the lab when they could stash him in some high-security cell instead.

You sank into your chair, fingers hovering over the holoscreen as your thoughts churned. None of this made sense. If Sylus was here, it had to be part of a plan. That’s how he operated. So where was the cavalry? Where were Luke and Kieran, bursting through the doors with guns blazing? Where was the distraction, the sabotage, the anything that would explain why the most dangerous man you’d ever known was sitting in a cell instead of burning this place to the ground?

Unless he wanted to be here.

The thought sent a chill down your spine. You shook your head, as if you could physically dislodge it. No. That was a rabbit hole you couldn’t afford to go down right now.

You threw yourself into your work, losing hours to data streams and prototype schematics, your hands moving on autopilot while your mind raced. The second your shift ended, you were out the door, your coat barely shrugged on as you all but sprinted for the transit station.

The Hunter’s Association loomed ahead, its sleek facade lit by the dying light of the sunset. You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly unsure. Were you too late? Too early? Would she even still be here?

You planted yourself across the street, leaning against a lamppost like you had every right to be there, your pulse thundering in your ears. Minutes ticked by. Ten. Twenty. Just as you were about to give up, to turn and walk away, you saw her.

There she was.

She stepped out of the building beside a coworker, a tall man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, his posture relaxed, his laugh carrying across the street. And her. Even now, after all this time, the sight of her hit like a punch to the gut.

She was beautiful. Effortlessly so, her hair catching the golden light, her smile easy as she listened to something the man said. You’d spent years trying to forget the exact curve of her lips, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed.

Your feet moved before you could stop yourself, carrying you across the street. The man noticed you first, his gaze sharpening as he subtly shifted his stance, one hand drifting toward his hip. A weapon. Of course. Hunters were never unarmed.

She followed his line of sight, and her eyes locked onto yours.

For a heartbeat, the world stopped. Her smile froze, her breath catching audibly. You saw the exact moment recognition dawned, the way her eyes widened, her lips parting in something like shock. Then she  turned to the man, murmuring something too low for you to hear. 

He hesitated, his gaze flicking between the two of you before nodding and walking away, though not without a final, lingering glance in your direction.

And then she was walking toward you, her steps measured, her expression unreadable. Up close, she was even more striking. The scent of her perfume hit you like a memory. The last time you’d been this close to her, you’d been standing in Sylus’s study, your hands clenched at your sides as they stood side by side. 

Now, she studied you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"You," she said finally, her voice softer than you remembered. "I wondered if I’d ever see you again."

The words settled between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

What the hell were you even supposed to say?

Your mouth went dry. The words tumbled out before you could stop them, awkward, stilted, painfully inadequate. "Um… hi?"

Her expression softened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then, to your absolute shock, she stepped forward and pulled you into a hug.

You froze.

Her arms were warm, her perfume dizzyingly familiar, something floral and expensive, the same scent that had lingered in Sylus’s study long after she’d left. Your hands hovered uselessly at your sides, your brain short-circuiting. What the hell was happening?

She pulled back first, her smile small but genuine. "Where have you been?"

The question threw you. You blinked, scrambling for words. "I just… left. For work."

"Work?" Her brow furrowed. "You worked for Sylus."

"Well, yeah. And then I left."

She studied you for a long moment, her gaze sharp in a way that made your skin prickle. Then she gestured across the street to a dimly lit coffee shop. "Let’s talk there."

You followed her numbly. This wasn’t how you’d imagined this going. You’d braced for hostility, for cold indifference, not this. Not soft smiles and casual hugs and a conversation you had no idea how to navigate.

The coffee shop was nearly empty, the air thick with the scent of roasted beans and burnt sugar. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl seat creaking under your weight. Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You couldn’t stop staring at her, the way her fingers tapped absently against the table, the way the dim light caught on her hair.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. "Have you been in contact with Sylus?"

She raised an eyebrow and then laughed.

The sound was bright, effortless, just like you remembered. It sent a sharp pang through your chest. You frowned. "What’s funny?"

She wiped at her eyes, still grinning. "I haven’t talked to him in, let’s see, over a year now. And the last time we did talk?" She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "He called me in the middle of the night asking if I knew where you were."

Your heart stuttered.

The world narrowed to the sound of your own pulse roaring in your ears. He’d asked about you. Not just in passing, not just as an afterthought. He’d called her. In the middle of the night.

Your voice came out strangled. "What did he say?"

She shrugged, stirring her coffee idly. "Like I said, he wanted to know if I’d seen you. And honestly? We never talked, so I was no help. But I have contacts, so I tried looking for you anyway." A pause. Her expression shifted, something almost wistful creeping in. 

"It was like you’d vanished. The last I heard, Sylus ransacked the entire N109 Zone trying to find you."

Your stomach twisted. You’d known, on some level, that he’d searched. But hearing it out loud, hearing her say it, made it real in a way you weren’t prepared for.

"I’m sorry," you said automatically. "I had to go away."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Not my business. But what does catch my attention…" She tilted her head, studying you with renewed interest. "is why you’re asking if we’re in touch."

You stiffened. She laughed again, softer this time. "Why would we be? We’re hardly friends. He just helped me out when I needed assistance, and that was it."

Something fragile and hopeful fluttered in your chest. You crushed it immediately. "Aren’t you two…" You trailed off, gesturing vaguely. "A couple or something?"

This time, her laughter was outright delighted. "Oh, come on." She leaned back, shaking her head. "He’s a criminal. The most wanted man in Linkon City. Not exactly my type." A smirk. 

"Besides, why would we be a thing when he always had eyes for someone else?"

The words hit like a runaway train. Your breath caught.

Someone else.

The implication hung in the air between you, thick and undeniable. You opened your mouth to say something, but words were lost to you.

She took pity on you then, her expression softening. "You really didn’t know?"

You couldn’t answer. 

After all this time?

You sat there, stunned, the words "he always had eyes for someone else" ringing in your skull like a gunshot. The coffee in front of you had gone cold, untouched. She watched you with something between amusement and pity, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup.

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "I have to go."

She didn’t stop you. Just arched a brow as you fumbled for your bag, your movements jerky and uncoordinated. "Sure," she said lightly. "But he did find you, didn’t he?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat had closed up, your pulse hammering so violently you were half-convinced she could hear it.

The walk home was a blur. The city lights smeared into streaks of gold and neon, the sounds of traffic and chatter fading into white noise. Your mind was a storm, thoughts crashing into each other with brutal, unrelenting force.

Sylus had eyes for you.

The idea was laughable. Absurd. And yet not so impossible to imagine.

Memories surfaced. The way he’d linger just a little too close when reviewing your work, his breath warm against your temple. The way he’d leave notes in his precise, elegant handwriting, notes you’d saved, tucked away like some pathetic secret. The way he’d asked you to live with him, for fuck’s sake, as if that was a normal thing a boss would do.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

There was a time, a time when you would’ve begged for this. When the mere possibility that he might feel the same would’ve sent you spiraling into dizzy, reckless hope. But now?

Now you didn’t know what to feel.

Because it didn’t matter. Not really.

You’d help him. Of course you would. You’d get him out of EVER’s clutches, and then you’d move on. Both of you. That was the plan. That was the only plan.

So why did that thought make your chest ache?

A gust of wind cut through you, sharp and biting. You barely felt it.

Why the hell is he even here?

The question gnawed at you. If Sylus had orchestrated this, if this was some elaborate scheme, why wasn’t he doing anything? Why wasn’t he fighting? Why weren’t Luke and Kieran kicking down doors? Why was he just sitting there, letting them pump him full of serums that would kill him?

You scoffed, raking a hand through your hair. Hypothetically speaking, if you didn’t help him, if you walked away and let EVER do what they did best, he’d die. Just like that. No grand escape. No last-minute rescue. Just a cold, clinical death on an exam table, his body discarded like faulty machinery.

The idea was so wrong it made your teeth hurt.

Sylus shouldn’t die quietly. Sylus shouldn't have to die at all. He was a force of nature, a storm given human form. He didn’t just let things happen to him.

Unless he was here for you.

But no. That was insane. That was pathetic.

You shook your head, but the idea stuck, stubborn and insidious.

Because if he had come for you, if he’d let himself get captured, knowing you worked here, knowing you’d see him, then he’d gambled everything on the hope that you’d help him. And that meant he’d gambled on you caring. Did he not think of the possibility that you might not? That you might walk away? That after two years of silence, you might look him in the eye and let them take everything from him?

A bitter laugh escaped you.

Of course he had. Sylus thought of everything. That was the problem. Which meant maybe this wasn’t a gamble at all. Maybe it was a test.

The realization settled over you like a cloud.

Tomorrow, they’d give him the stronger serum. Tomorrow, he’d die, unless you did something. And he’d known that. He’d known. But why was he putting you on the spot like that?

You stopped walking, your apartment building looming ahead, its windows dark and empty.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

She wasn’t involved. You couldn’t and wouldn’t drag her into this. But that left you with exactly zero allies, zero resources, and zero time.

You exhaled sharply, your breath fogging in the cold air.

Things weren’t any better than they’d been this morning. If anything, they were worse. Because now you knew and that changed everything.

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

tags: @nm4565natty, @dysphxriaii, @animegamerfox, @floofycookie, @food4me-always, @dummiebunny, @starllight613, @natashahbarry, @hao-ming-8, @eve-rockin-blog, @sylusgirlie7, @babygirl-panda19, @chaoticfivesworld, @wakeupr41, @poptrim, @brailsthesmolgurl, @seung185, @mimiu3usoft, @theplaid-wearingmoose, @moonchildjae00, @pinksaiyans, @vintag3u, @peachystea, @69-gojos-wife-69, @harusansthings, @dyeinsomniadontwake, @perqbeth, @dramaticalsachan, @dana-nite, @blusterry-bomb, @miffysoo, @his-ocean-emissary, @totallytaurus4, @sleepykittyenergy, @terriblesoup, @mcdepressed290, @ikesimpleton, @meyline, @decaf-nosebleed, @ili6a, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @adeptustemptations, @sylussweetkitten, @roschea-arts, @blipblopblopblip, @eolivy, @coeurdeveea, @sylussplushie, @thestarsaboveme, @cordidy, @bxtchopolis, @sabage101

[himbodruid]

Blooming Fissures

Caleb x Reader

His return shattered everything you tried to bury. But some fissures don’t break; they bloom.

this is how i feel their reunion should’ve gone

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⋆｡°✩･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

“Kick me, hit me, scream at me,” he begged, his voice quivering with barely contained emotion. “Please, anything but this silence.”

You stood, staring at him without a single word. Just as you had been since he ushered you into his condo. Drinking him in, unable to remember how long it had been since you last saw him. It felt like a lifetime, but realistically it was probably only about eight months. You hadn’t even had the time to fully grieve, not after fully throwing yourself into your work to forget. But everything came crashing back into you all at once.

He was older, definitely, but something in your brain was almost too scared to believe that the man in front of you was the same Caleb you knew and loved. His jaw was more defined, eyes more tired, and he was fucking massive. He’d always been a giant to you, but now he had bulked out considerably while he’d been off doing fuck all.

“How fucking dare you,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. You couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you, like a heartbroken puppy. “You don’t get to stand there looking at me like that.”

You strode forward, giving him a reaction- like he wanted- when your fist collided with his rock-hard chest. “Do you have any idea what you put me through? How devastated I was when they told me they couldn’t find your body? How I lost hope after every passing day of seeing you alive again? And then you have the audacity to be alive after all this fuckin’ time?”

Each furious question was punctuated by another strike of your fists. Tears stung your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to let them fall. And all the while, he stood there, taking in your fury, your pain. He let you hit him, didn’t dare to react, didn’t even flinch, and instead he let you vent against him in whatever way you needed. The expression he wore was stricken, and you couldn’t bear to see it.

It was a surprise to you both when you stood up on your toes to crush your mouth against his. In a fit of heightened emotion, you’d given in to an impulse that you’d kept locked away since you were teenagers. Shock rippled through him, making him freeze, surprise evident in the wide eyed stare he gave you when you pulled away.

“You asshole,” you said before diving back in, giving no care to the rejection you all but expected with the way that he stood stock still.

Then his composure cracked and he was hauling you against him. You clawed at him, trying to climb him like a damn tree. Your chest pressed against him, you were already so impossibly close, but it still wasn’t enough. His mouth devoured you, coaxing you open to tangle his tongue with yours. You pulled away from him, but only to rip his shirt over his head, only for him to do the same to you immediately after.

Clothing was shed and scattered until he had your bare ass against a short bookshelf. He gave no hesitation in plunging his cock into you, and you cried out when the pleasure rippled through you. Fuck, how he filled you. It was more than you ever could have hoped.

He set a frantic, desperate pace. You clung to him, ignoring things that fell from the bookshelf. When the shelf itself heaved to the side and threatened collapse from your combined weight and vigor, he dragged you away from it. A short distance away, two strides at most, and he had you against his desk.

His pace didn’t decrease in the transition, the solid build of the desk inviting him to slam into you even harder. Items scattered from the surface, clattering to the ground while each thrust violently crashed the rear edge of the desk into the wall. He buried his face in your neck, his grunting moans fanning across your skin in heated puffs of breath.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, circling his arms around your waist to crush you against him. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You dropped your head back, cries echoing in the room as his mouth latched onto your thundering pulse. Clawing into his back didn’t deter him, just encouraged him to plow into you harder. With thighs cradling his torso, you locked your ankles behind his back. All you could do was cling to him while he drove hard into you, calling out his name with every forceful thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-“ he groaned into your ear. “W-where?”

“In,” you breathe, clinging to him more firmly.

“Y’sure?”

“Yes! Fuck, Caleb! I need you to cum in me,” you cry, feeling pleasure rippling through you with every strike of his cock. At your command, he buried himself into you as deep as he could go. With a guttural shout, his body shuddered and he spilled into you. The pulsing twitch of his cock ripped your own climax from you, cascading flutters of your walls milking him for everything he had to give.

He leaned hard on a hand placed firmly on the desktop, crushing his mouth against yours. You dug your nails into him, squeezing your walls around him.

“More,” you growled into his mouth, earning a heated whimper from him. He obeyed without question, hips already colliding against yours again.

Desperate. Frenzied. Carnal. All words that would describe the way he fucked you, as if years of pent up desire between both of you finally found a release. As if the world would end tomorrow and this was the only chance either of you would ever get.

He took you against every flat surface, crashing into you with quick rhythmic snaps of his hips. Short grunting moans erupted from him with every hard thrust, while you were left breathless from the pleasure that coursed through you. Reason escaped you as the anger-fueled sex turned into primal mating. You forgot why you were even mad at him in the first place, all your focus turned to the way he fucked you.

His stamina was bullshit. While he wrenched climax after climax from you, he still had enough to keep plunging into you. Even when he would slam forward to spill into you, he would just start right back up again at the smallest of nudges from you. Even when his breathing turned ragged and sweat trickled down his chest, he kept going, bucking into you with whole body shudders when another release steamrolled him.

Until, finally, he slumped against you, panting as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. He had you back on his desk after making rounds throughout his apartment, a trail of destruction following your path. Even the poor bookshelf finally succumbed to your combined ardor and collapsed. You carded your hands through his hair, trying to catch your breath alongside him.

“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck, pressing his hips flush against yours as he nuzzled you. “I want you so goddamn badly, but I don’t think I can handle anymore.”

“We have all the time in the world now,” you murmured, kissing his neck and coming away with the salty tang of him on your lips.

“It’s still not enough,” he complained, pulling away only enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“But it’s enough to shower and rest,” you chuckle. He huffed a short laugh, leaning in to give a quick kiss before he hauled you into his arms and carried you off to his bathroom.

Even under the hot spray of water, neither of you could keep your hands to yourself.

***

Later, when you were settled- quite naked- in his bed, you watched with keen interest as he left the room. Completely unashamed in his nudity, you couldn’t stop your eyes from raking down his fine figure. You marveled at the imposing physique he had, and briefly wondered if his bulk came from his time in the DAA, or if he honed himself into a weapon on his own. You never paid too close attention when you were younger, never indulged in the fantasies that roamed freely in your head as a teen when it came to him. But he was considerably larger than you remembered, his shoulders more broad and muscles more defined.

He returned moments later with glasses of water, and you averted your gaze with a blaze spreading across your face. Bites, scratches, and purpling marks made by your mouth and fingers decorated his skin, just as numerous as the marks he made on you. But that wasn’t what had you blushing like mad and looking away.

How can he still be hard after all that?

You wanted to jump him again. You wanted him to jump you. But you kept your hands to yourself, proud that you could accomplish this small feat. Even when he sat at the edge of the bed and handed you the water. Your hands twitched, but you forced them to stay busy by grabbing the glass instead of him.

“I never dared to hope to have you like this,” he said reverently. The pad of his thumb brushed against your lip and his eyes zeroed in on the movement. That keen gaze followed his hand as it trailed down your body. “I always kept this craving I had for you sequestered away, locked in my dreams.”

You sat up fully and set your glass aside, unable to stop yourself now from indulging in your own craving. Even after the frenzied fucking that left half of his house in disarray, you still hadn’t had enough of him. Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him into you so you could slant your mouth over his.

He kissed you languidly, drawing out a fire within you in slow measure. It was a stark contrast to your earlier foray, sending shoots of pleasure through you just from that simple contact. He pulled back, searching your face. You didn’t know what he searched for, but he stared at you in awe, as if he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. As if he couldn’t believe he was here with you, right now. He cupped your face, the pad of his thumb swiping against your cheek before he leaned into you again.

His bulk settled over you, pressing you into the mattress. His weight was like an anchor, confirming that this wasn’t some wild dream. He was here, he was real. His arms caging you, the strength of his shoulders and back under your exploring hands, his hips wonderfully tucked between your thighs- all of it was real.

This time when he took you, it was with such reverent worship that it made your heart pound harder than when he was plunging into you with primal ferocity. Each slow, full stroke was punctuated by a breathless moan escaping you. His hands weren't roaming, grasping, like they were earlier. Instead they cradled your head while his mouth claimed yours, devouring the sounds you made.

Your grip on him tightened, fingers clutching his hair while the other hand dug into his shoulder. Your legs wrapped more firmly around his waist, heels locking against his back. He obliged your silent command, every forward stroke lingering as a hard press against your pelvis before slipping away. The pace of his thrusts increased only slightly, instead offering friction over speed.

“C-Caleb,” you whimpered, dangling on the precipice of completion.

“Yes,” he groaned, somehow knowing exactly what you needed.

His hips jerked forward, driving as deep as he can. The climax was simultaneous, the twitching pulse of his cock matching the fluttering thrum of your walls as you shattered around him. You threw your head back into his pillows, arching beneath him while pure pleasure thundered through you. His moans spilled from him against the column of your throat, his hot breath fanning across your skin and raising goosebumps. You’d coupled with him multiple times in a matter of hours, but this was the most intense orgasm yet.

While the pair of you came down from the high, he nuzzled into your neck and peppered you with kisses wherever he could reach. Exhaustion tugged at you, but you resisted it in favor of stroking a hand through his hair, reveling in the softness you found. A sound rumbled in his chest, so similar to a cat’s purr that it had you chuckling. He lifted his head, a smile on his face that lit up the galaxy in his eyes.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing you so tenderly that it was nearly painful. He rolled off you, tugging you into his embrace. You snuggled into him, letting his warmth envelope you.

“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble as sleep threatened to take you. You felt him kiss the top of your head with a soft chuckle.

“I know,” he said softly, tightening his hold on you.

For the first time in a long time, you slept without threat of nightmares.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Good enough

Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, unprotected angry sex, Caleb’s back and he’s jealous, breeding kink, mdni, not proofread sorry, this shit is NASTY i fear.

An: This one is for a dear friend of mine 🙂‍↕️ Thanks for making me pull out of my writer’s block. LOOK i’m so sorry if this is bad but i had to write SOMETHING to pull me out of this funk… i hope you all enjoy

How did you end up trapped underneath your half-cyborg best friend who was legally deceased while taking the meanest deep strokes of your life? Well, there’s a simple answer. Caleb knew Xavier was home.

Actually, he knew everything: the dates, the tender moments, the secret times, the nightly rendezvous. Pissed was an understatement.

Had you forgotten? Had you forgotten all the promises you two made each other when you were younger? Had you forgotten that you were fucking made for him? You had to have. That’s why you were stringing along 4 different guys. You were trying to fill a hole that only he could fill.

That had to be why.

Regardless, Caleb knew Xavier was the type to listen to you through the floorboards of his upstairs apartment. He was a lot alike Caleb in that sort of manner. They were both possessive freaks who couldn’t stand the thought of you being with somebody else.

That’s why Caleb was fucking you so hard — pounding your pretty pussy so deeply into the mattress that you were seeing stars with each mean thrust.

He used his size to his advantage. It was fitting. He’d always loved how much bigger he was than you. That’s how you received your adorned nickname: pipsqueak.

He planned on his first time with you being a lot more gentle than this. He planned on being sweet and loving. He planned on cherishing your body the way you deserve, but you just had to go and give yourself to 4 other guys before him.

“Stop crying.” His voice rumbled as his piercing gaze found yours — so much different than the sweet childhood friend you had. His hand covered your mouth as he hunched over your figure, still ramming his cock head into you ruthlessly. “I know you can take it. I’ve watched you take it before.”

Your eyes blinked back tears as you looked up at him. He was being so mean. You couldn’t believe this was the same doting Caleb that you grew up with, and you didn’t even want to think about the face he had been watching you…

“Fucking pussy’s made for me, and you’ve been letting other men try to make her feel good.” He growled as he used his less-than-human arm reach down and gently rub against your small button of nerves.

“Caleb-!” You choked out as your body writhed beneath him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock splitting you apart, making you wholly his and his alone.

“That’s right… Say my name, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel so good.” He prompted with a confident smirk before he hauled your legs up above his shoulders, sinking even deeper into your dripping cunt.

Clawing at the bed, your back arched as you tried to cope with the intrusion. He’s so fucking deep it feels like you’re going to choke on him. “Caleb-“ You sob as your cunt pitifully clenches around him.

Feeling you wrapped around him so sweetly, crying out his name as you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure has Caleb revitalized with a new vigor. His hips work in tight circles, pumping his fat cock in and out of you as your cunt makes the most obscene squelching noises he’s ever heard.

“Such a fucking noisy girl. I should’ve know you were going to be a crybaby.” He teased before placing open mouth kisses along your neck snd shoulder.

“W-wait Caleb- calebcalebcaleb. I’m gonna..” You pant out nervously as his metal fingers were still rubbing languid circled around your cunt, and his tip was smooshing globs of precum against your cervix.

His fingers suddenly pinch down on your clit, making you cry out from the sensation. Your body went taut as you were being dangled on the edge of pleasure. His robotic arm wasn’t quite letting you get there.

You thought his arm was literally malfunctioning until you heard him chuckle from your suffering.

“You’re going to cum when I saw you can, okay baby?” He asked in that same condescending tone he always used when you two were younger.

His hips continued to roll after he was sure that you weren’t going to fall off the deep end, and he let out deep guttural groans, feeling your pretty pussy soak him. It was like you were practically trying to suck him in. He couldn’t believe he had waited this long to sink into your cunt like this.

and the best part about it was he knew your stupid upstairs neighbor was listening! Xavier knew you were down here getting railed, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Hell, if he even tried, Caleb would use his evol and force him kneel beside the bed as he drilled you even harder.

Fuck, the thought of slutting you out in front of every single one of your little boyfriends had his stomach tightening. His hips snapped forward into you with a pace that could only be described as feral.

You were a complete babbling mess at this point — utterly cock drunk as Caleb had you folded in half, filling you up to the brim with his length.

“Ohhh, that’s my girl.” He purred as he saw your glossed over look. “It’s coming, baby. I’m going to give you want you need.” He promised as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that completely contradicted the ruthless way his hips were rutting into you.

“C-caleb- Caleb no, wait.. Don’t cum inside-“ You stuttered out in a panic. You hadn’t been by the pharmacy yet to pick up birth control, so technically, this was all unprotected.

“Why?” He growled as his back curled over. He was fucking mounting you while holding your thighs in the prettiest mating press he’d ever seen. “You fucking let them fill you up. Am I not good enough to breed this pussy?”

His hips slammed into you. It felt like he was trying to push his way straight into your womb. It was mind-numbing pleasure, making black orbs and stars dance across your vision.

“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, dragging your face to look back up at him. You could barely see straight. It was all too much. “You’re going to let your best friend breed you, and you’re gonna fucking love it. You’re going to cum all over this fat cock until you can’t breathe. Understand?”

You dumbly nodded your head, halfway hearing his words. Your pussy was aching to cum. Your swollen puffy folds were greedily accepting him in with every thrust. You wanted this. Birth control be damned. Everyone else be damned.

Caleb gritted his teeth together as he gave you a few more good harsh thrusts for good measure. He then crushed his body against yours, burying himself all the way to your womb before his cock started to jerk and pulse inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his thick potent cum. The only thing on his mind was the need to see you, his childhood best friend, round with his baby.

He needed to see the look on each other of those pricks’ faces when they realized you were spoken for.

The cherry on top was when he felt your walls clenching around him, happily milking his cock for everything he had while you sobbed and hiccuped his name. It seemed like his childhood best friend was maybe just as twisted as he was. He’d have to give her an extra good reward for being such a good girl.

As the room went still and quiet — only filled with shared breaths and pants for air, the sound of someone stabbing a sword through the ceiling was heard, and Caleb chuckled deeply. He had definitely pissed Xavier off.

[fictionfuel]

The tantalizing chill snakes through your veins, like sizzling lava slithering through your pulsing blood. The mix is a mouthwatering ache, so deeply seated it nestles into every fibre of your being. Your swollen, bitten bottom lip, coated in a sheen of cooling saliva. You count every laboured breath, the single fallen hair like fresh-fallen snow cascading over a pool of roaring crimson. Sylus. A man you deployed once upon a time, a time that feels like eons ago. Your old tale that will never be forgotten—a story of a ghost. How time unravels before you, a black-and-white film brimming with colours. Your innocent eyes have been riddled with tragedy and discovery, and most would frown with pity and rejection. Yet, you grin with mirth and bemusement. You're spinning your tale, one with boundless endings. With a twirl in your step, you cross one foot behind your ankle. The malleable leather of the crop gives under your lithe fingers, ghosting the handle. Like a feather tickling the equipment, you trace the handle up to the tip. That burning ember smoulders brightly in your gaze; the fiery, salacious intent matches that of the Onychinus leader. Your perfectly straightened hair falls delicately over your hooded eyes. “Sylus, this is my game. You say you have my heart; it’s that vice grip that’s holding my heart. Yet, who has your heart?” You breathe, crouching closer to the floor. Stepping sideways, you're the predator closing in on your prey. Stalking, calculating the perfect ambush. A graceful cock of a trimmed white brow, the fluent motion of one shapely lip upturning. “Well, kitten. That’s a question you answer; this game of yours you desire to play might give you what you're seeking.” Sylus taunted, a lilt of playfulness mixing into that low rasp. The voice of an angel, with the looks to murder. An intoxicating concoction of allure and grace, any foolish soul succumbs to a similar fate—the same one you fell for. A being with ethereal features, a body of Adonis, and brains beyond time itself. The weapon of mass destruction. “Oh, Sylus~” You purr a slow drawl of his name. A sound so sweet, bees would be swarming you. Sylus stares, expression unreadable; the tiniest audible hitch of breath breaks the flawless facade he’s bearing. A mark of weakness, and you’re going to exploit that. “You like the sound of my voice, don’t you, sweetie?” The name you love dearly flows like water. The husky and low timbre was lost upon your saccharine melody. “Sweetie, tread wisely. This game you're playing, you want to commit to. With me,” Sylus warned. The husky and baritone rumbles deep in his chest, a warmth so familiar it bears life and death. Those ruby irises gleam with emotions an old soul would lament, a wounded soul so sorrowful it brings nothing but melancholy. Yet, shining like the sun breaking across the horizon, lecherous mania claws at those gems. You straighten up, the crop gripped tightly in your grasp. You stare directly at Sylus, your partner. Your lover. A part of your soul. Slowly, painfully so, the cool tip of the crop traces Sylus’ sharp jawline. Like your fingers usually do, telling a story. Ghosting down towards the column of his neck, over his bobbing Adam’s apple. The final destination was his chin. Halting the crop there, you forcefully tip his chin up, eliciting a soft growl. “I don’t think you should be giving me orders, considering your predicament.” Emphasizing your point, you lay the bottom of your sleek black heels over the mouth-watering bulge. A throaty groan rips from Sylus, his head tilting further back.

“F-fuck,” he curses brokenly.

Adding pressure, you twist your foot in half circles. Taking away pressure and forcing your foot harder onto his cock. Leaning down, cocking your head to the side. “You break me, I’m going to break you; now be a good boy.”

@/fictionfuel 2025. Don’t repost, steal, claim as your own, or use to train AI. Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[aeyumicore]

captive bird - caleb 夏以昼

tension boils over during the thunderstorm in caleb’s living room—things get heated. what really happens in captive bird when caleb and mc are finally honest with how they feel about each other.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings/angst, fluff, canon story continuation

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 13.4k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, SPOILERS TO CAPTIVE BIRD (main story), more compliant with original chinese script, not incest (it’s very clear they are not related and do not feel related), unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, virginity loss (male and female), panty sniffing/licking (while on female mc), panty stealing, multiple orgasms, light choking, improper use of Evol, lots and lots of dirty talking (caleb is a vocal man), lots of pet names (princess, brat, baby, babygirl, and the occasional pip-squeak), cumming on stomach, cum…licking?, use of gege, size difference, use of Y/N, lots and lots of main story/lore/anecdote references, lots of feelings and angst, references to caleb’s right arm, bratty mc/brat tamer caleb

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3 | captive bird video (also has entire ch2)

━ ✧.˖ A/N: vomits everywhere DON’T LOOK AT ME,,,,,idk how this got out of hand….i was hoping it would be MAX 9-10k…it’s 13k….anyways i hope you enjoy <3 first of many love letters to caleb, my babyyy. 

if you cannot tell yes caleb is my favorite….far far behind is sylus and then behind him is zayne. but i fear it is not even close. 

this is the first installment of my “””planned””” caleb series - essentially it’ll be smutty moments throughout the canon content: main story, five star mems, bonds, etc. no schedule, no promises. i will write when i feel inspired <3 

lore and plot build up is probably 4k words and the smut is like 9k. It goes lore → smut so you can skip the plot and go straight to the smut if youd like LOL

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

part one | part two |

“Our reporters out in the field confirmed the lockdown will be lifted after being in effect for weeks. The Farspace Fleet assures everyone that the explosion in the Cascade District will not happen again–”

The newscaster is cut off when Caleb shuts off the television, coming up behind you. True to his word, three days had passed and it seemed the situation in Skyhaven was on the cusp of “resolving.” You’d finally be able to return home soon. 

Home–to Linkon. It used to be Caleb’s home too. 

On the other hand, your prickly relationship with Caleb had only tensed further in the past few days. You’d exchanged maybe a handful of words, not for lack of trying on his part. 

After he had clasped the monitoring bracelet onto your wrist, he may as well have locked away the last bit of hope you had that the Caleb you once knew was still under that prim and poised Colonel’s uniform. 

In your time at Skyhaven, he’d proven time and time again that the Caleb you grew up with, the gege you once loved, was gone. And what remained was someone you did not recognize, and didn’t know if you cared to. 

And yet, in the three days you locked yourself in the hollow room of his suffocating home, he’d still cook every meal for you, despite being gone much of the day. Three times a day, without fail, a tray of your favorite Caleb specials would show up at the foot of your door, accompanied by small and ridiculous sticky notes that pulled relentlessly at your heartstrings.

Caleb always loved notes. He used to say it was your guys’ thing.

But now, you weren’t so sure there was a you and him anymore. 

“After all this is over, the Fleet will return to the Deepspace Tunnel. You’ll be safe. For now,” Caleb’s words cut through your thoughts. You nearly jump at the sound of his voice, this being the most you’d allowed him to say to you lately. 

What’s more jarring is the idea that the Farspace Fleet is leaving Skyhaven. You’d forgotten that they hardly ever stationed here–spending most, if not all, their time patrolling the Deepspace Tunnel. 

“So you’re just going to leave again? Without saying anything?” you bite out, overwhelmed by a bitterness you hadn’t quite processed since reuniting with him. 

Caleb smiles, a ghostlike smirk that doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s riddled in self deprecation and pity, “You won’t have to see me anymore. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he chuckles and grabs your wrist, “I’m about to leave. Let’s have dinner together.”

Between the idea that Caleb is leaving you yet again, and him making yet another demand of you, you violently rip your arm away from him. Your words are venomous as you spit them out, “So I have to listen to the Colonel even when it comes to eating and drinking now?”

You storm away from him, sitting on the couch in the living room, hands clenched in your lap. Your gaze is fixed on your angrily quaking fists, and in the corners of your vision you see Caleb seating himself on the ottoman in front of you.

“You can be mad, but don’t let it affect your health,” he holds out an apple in front of you, a silent offering. It's perfectly red opulent skin only makes you bristle with more annoyance. 

“I’m not mad.”

Caleb chuckles knowingly, “Growing up, I knew you better than anyone.”

His voice doesn’t change but there’s an undercurrent of emptiness that makes you look up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes, his cheek resting on his fist as he turns the apple in his fingers, the ruby skin glinting under the lights.

“I could see through your lies before you could blink. Bite your lip, and I could instantly tell you were upset.” 

He speaks as if remembering something precious he’d lost, violet eyes briefly flickering to yours before they cast downward again, focussing on the apple like it might solve your problems. 

“Then tell me, since you know me so well, what am I thinking right now?” 

Before he can respond, you continue, “I’m thinking…how did you turn into someone I can’t even recognize?” 

Part of you regrets the words as soon they come out. But the other part, the larger part, wants him to see what you see. To feel what you feel. You think that part of you wants to hurt him like he’s been hurting you.

Caleb chuckles darkly, putting the apple back into the fruit bowl on the coffee table with the other perfect and untouched apples, “I know. You’re thinking a chip got put into my brain and it changed who I am, right?”

His shadowed gaze  meets yours, unfathomable emotions shining through the eyes you once found immeasurable comfort in. He reaches out to hold your cheek, his fingers grazing your jaw. The look in his stormy eyes makes your skin crawl, and yet his touch is so unbearably familiar that you can’t help but lean into him. 

“What if I told you…I was always this person?” 

Your breath catches at the inexplicable hope that clashes with the sinister darkness shadowing his face. His deceptively simple words have you unconsciously inching away from him, your mind reeling as you struggle to accept them. Refuse to accept them.

Could he really always have been this person? 

Could you really have been so deluded that you’d fallen in love with a complete stranger? 

No, not a stranger–but someone who never even existed to begin with. 

You recoil, not from his touch–but from his words, your spine hitting the back of the couch. There’s a split second where Caleb’s face falls, a flash of the sweet innocent boy you were yearning for finding its way to the surface. But then his face hardens, his Colonel’s mask slipping back on. 

He stands before you, between your parted knees, his height looming over you like the impending storm that brews just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the glass cage that was his home. 

Caleb’s voice is so rough you almost don’t recognize it. His fist grasps the back of the couch beside your head, trapping you between it and him. You can’t bring yourself to push him away, your chest pounding at his proximity, eyes instinctively drawn into the curves of his lips as he speaks. 

“It’s you who’s still living in a fantasy, Y/N.”

Those hauntingly beautiful amethyst irises search yours for even a glimmer of understanding. You’re nearly consumed by the stark contrast of the frenzy and despair in them.

“The people who want your power–who’d hurt you. They should all just…disappear.” 

Caleb speaks with such a sinister conviction, as if he’s swearing a solemn oath to you. One that paints your skin with goosebumps at just how serious you can tell he is. How much of his humanity he’s willing to throw away–for you.

“You’re only safe when you’re by my side.”

He smiles at you, a deceptively warm smile that reminds you of the gege who always bandaged your knees and shielded you from the thunderstorms that reminded you of the roar of Wanderers. The Caleb your heart found itself inexplicably yearning for, no matter how much you told yourself you shouldn't. 

But the flickering darkness–the frantic despair in his deep purple eyes pulls you back into reality, like a blackhole swallowing all the light around it. 

“I’d rather be in danger than live like this, Caleb!” the sheer anger you’d held onto from the last three days boils over, tears of frustration pooling in the corner of your eyes. 

Your next words come tumbling out before you can stop them, knowing just how much they’ll hurt him. You’re not even sure they’re true–but once the floodgates open, you can’t shut them.

“I don’t need you!”

Caleb’s gentle smile transforms into one of disbelief as your palm rests on his chest, finally finding the strength to push him away. When he glances away from you, his eyes darting around frantically, he looks hopelessly lost. A plane adrift. 

“Don’t need me?”

His voice is incredulous as he grabs your wrist, holding it above your head. His grip is firm and unyielding, but not enough to hurt you in the slightest. Caleb always knew just how much you could take, after all. 

It doesn’t take much for him to pin you firmly against the couch, leaning in closer to cage you into the furniture. In the back of your mind, you know you should shove him off–slap him even. 

But all you could focus on is the way his long eyelashes are so close you could count them. How you can feel his heated breath fan across your parted lips, practically able to taste him on your tongue.

You can’t find it in yourself to put up a fight, unable to even tear your eyes away from him as the dark expanding universe in his irises searches yours. All you can do is weakly, pathetically, hit his arm. 

“Then tell me, what do you need? I can give you anything.” 

Did you want him to leave?

Your heart pounds at his words, the raw honesty and vulnerability dripping off of them, so serious it was nearly a threat. The desperate glint in his eyes was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. 

You didn’t recognize him in the slightest. 

“You want to return to Linkon? Then we can go back to Linkon.”

Could you return to Linkon with him? To the place where you’d held Caleb’s hand for the first time and inevitably fallen in love with the gege who’d protected you all your life? A man who was now no more than a ghost of who he once was.

“If you want to return to the past, then we can rebuild our old house and live together again.”

House. Not home. Because that’d been destroyed in the same explosion that’d killed your Caleb. 

“And if one house isn’t enough, I’ll build you an entire maze.”

A maze. Designed with the illusion of a way out, but in reality you knew it’d just be another way to keep you caged in like a little helpless bird all over again. Flying around aimlessly–lost.

“I’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want. It will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you’ve ever seen.”

Caleb holds your face possessively as he speaks, as if you might disappear at any moment. His thumb catches stray tears as they descend your cheek. The devotion in his yearning eyes is boundless, a void threatening to swallow you whole. 

A dream world just for the two of you. 

“No one will ever be able to find you ever again. I’ll protect you forever.”

The dream shatters into a million glass fragments, the shards embedding into your heart that had bled and scabbed over so many times these past few weeks in Skyhaven that it was unrecognizable. 

You press your free palm into his chest, pushing back gently. There’s no frustration or urgency this time, just a heartfelt plea that you can’t quite place. 

“Caleb…you shouldn’t do this.”

The words feel foreign as they leave the tip of your tongue. 

“You’re my…” the term feels like acid but you force it out, needing to get through to him. Your open hand on his chest closes into a tightly clenched fist. 

“My…brother. You mean more to me than anything.”

For a long time you hadn’t felt like Caleb was your brother. You don’t really know if you’d ever felt like he was. The only thing you were certain of was that Caleb had become the most precious person in your life. 

And you loved him. Was in love with him.

But it was too late to tell him that now. 

For now, you needed him to see reason. That the world he envisioned for the two of you was nothing more than a faraway dream, and dreams existed only in the whispers of the night. 

Caleb freezes, before biting out a bitter chuckle–halfway between a scoff and a sneer. The Colonel’s mask slips off, fluttering to the floor entirely. The wild look in his eyes is reminiscent of a caged beast that’d been whipped one too many times. 

“Hah–brother?” 

You struggle as Caleb pries your hand off his chest, not really knowing why you’re fighting him. It’s hard to think, with him so close to you, your resolve fading with each moment that passes. 

You vaguely hear the bowl of apples on the coffee table being knocked over, unceremoniously tumbling to the ground. Caleb hovers above you, his face darker than the torrent of storm clouds just outside the glass windows. 

“Y/N, your biggest mistake was believing that I could play the part of your perfect brother forever.”

You can’t tell if it’s the terrifying roar of thunder or his shocking confession that makes your heart pound so violently it hurts. Your fist quivers as you pull back, but Caleb only holds you tighter, unwilling to let you go.

The weight of his words crushes you–stealing your breath away, until there’s nothing left but the wreckage of your resolve. 

“Day after day, I’ve endured. I’ve held myself back. But now…”

His voice is so low that you can barely hear him over the clap of thunder, gravelly with a hungry desperation that makes your toes curl against the carpet.  

“I’m done playing pretend.”

The lightning outside flashes, illuminating his shadowed eyes revealing the depth of his turmoil. Without the carefully knit Farspace Colonel’s mask he always wore, Caleb was an open book, wearing his heart so openly on his sleeve that you could see every twisted thought.

Temptation, desperation, yearning, guilt, sin. All that he had shouldered and endured alone, donning the role of the supposed “older brother” like a shield, unwilling to risk losing the most precious thing in the world to him.

You.

And after weeks of seeing nothing but the cold, faraway, unforgiving Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, you were drawn to this Caleb like a moth to a flame.

Illogically, irrevocably, and so deeply that it hurts you. 

Caleb swears under his breath, shaking his head as if trying to snap out of a daze. His grip on your wrists loosens, but he doesn’t let go. His words come out in a forced choke, almost as pained as his anguished stare. 

“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that unless you’re willing to admit you’re done playing this game too.”

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, your face no doubt as red as the apples that had tumbled to the ground. Your thoughts race a mile a minute, trying to reconcile what you’d always felt for him, telling yourself you shouldn’t, with what he was confessing to you now. 

What if you were never part of the game to begin with?

“Like what?! I’m not doing anything!” is all you can find yourself saying, almost petulantly, deflecting from what’s threatening to spill over. His skin felt impossibly hot against yours, his fingers nearly branding your wrists, reminding you just how much you’d come to feel for him. 

Reminding you of exactly who your heart was so violently pounding for in this exact moment.

Caleb shakes his head, a dark breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he releases your hands from above your head, instead gripping the couch behind you, boxing you in again. The storm outside fades away, until it’s only him, looking at you with an entire universe’s worth of longing reflected in those lavender halos.

His hand lifts to your cheek, hesitating before he uses the knuckles of his fingers to wipe your tears away, stroking along your jaw. It’s impossibly innocent, and yet you find your thighs clenching against him.

“Tell me I’m insane.”

You blink up at him trying to process what he was asking of you, the same exact things you had been telling yourself for…years. 

“Tell me…it’s all in my head.”

Caleb’s voice is nothing more than a desperate whisper, pleading with you to tell him what he needs to hear. Yes…or no. Whatever it is, he just can’t play this game anymore.

“Tell me you don’t feel…this.”

His long fingers slowly, tentatively, thread into your hair, his thumb stroking your jaw as he gently grasps your face, tilting you closer to him. Your eyes flicker to his parted lips that are so close you could just inch forward and taste them.

You definitely felt it.

“I-I don’t. Caleb…we can’t do this.”

You lie through your teeth, still holding onto the last fray of restraint you had left. The last, dying, part of you that wanted to keep the memory of you and Caleb exactly how it was. In a beautiful crystal box, that you could cherish and protect forever. 

Unchanging, undamaged, untouched.

Perhaps…that’s what Caleb thought he was doing when he kept you here in his glass home. Keeping you alive. 

“Didn’t I say I could always tell when you’re lying, pip-squeak?” 

His amethyst eyes are hooded with a deep swirling caution, warning you. That he can see right through you–he’s always been able to. And he’s never taken well to you keeping things from him. 

You try to bite back the visceral shiver at that sweet little pet name he so effortlessly called you, even when he was looking at you like a lion would a sheep. 

Caleb lowers himself so he’s kneeling before you, his knees pressing into the edge of the couch between your legs. 

“You’re trying to preserve a fantasy–a dream. But I’m right here, in front of you,” he urges, his voice broken and raw. Taking your hand, he presses your palm to his chest–his heart. Even through his shirt, you can feel the ridges of his muscles heaving with the weight of his heavy heart beats.

“Caleb…” you murmur, halfway between a warning and a plea. The feeling of his heart beneath your palm blurs the line between reason and desire. 

Caleb shuts his eyes, drawing a deep and shaky breath.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he growls, his fingers digging into the expensive leather of the couch, so forcefully that it threatens to rip.

“Don’t say my name like I’m already gone. I’m right here.” 

The vulnerable plea in his voice is so thick that you choke, tears welling in your eyes as you stare up at him, his eyes reflecting the same Caleb who used to point out planes as they flew by in the sky, promising you the world. 

Maybe you were the one who’d imprisoned him.

Trying desperately to hold onto the Caleb you knew. Blind to the fact that he was right in front of you, even if he’d shed the feathers you once knew. Forcing him into the tiny suffocating cage of what you wanted. 

He was right here. The Caleb who wore your hair ties on his wrist, the same one who dried your wet hair, who always looked for your face in every crowd.

The same Caleb who always did anything and everything to protect you, ever since he held your hand for the first time. 

And you’d punished him for it.

Your hands come up to hold his face in your palms, holding his gaze with unyielding regret. Caleb’s breath audibly catches at your touch, his face instinctively nuzzling into your palms, eyes shutting in a brief second of respite. 

“I…” you start, trying to find the words. But they escape you, stuck in your throat, where your heart clenches with repentance. Caleb is incredibly patient, stroking circles into the back of your head, not pushing you. 

You try again, “I’m…” You curse yourself inwardly, eyes prickling. 

Why couldn’t you just fucking say it? 

You were the coward, after all. 

Caleb’s thumb brushes against the corner of your mouth, careful not to stroke your bottom lip like he so desperately wanted to. His other hand clenches into a tight fist that trembles with the weight of his restraint. 

He gives you that half smile that’s so effortlessly Caleb that what’s left of your resolve snaps. 

“You don’t have to say it,” he reassures, almost dejectedly, his beautiful bright violet eyes falling, dimming like a burnt out bulb, “It’s okay.”

Even when he’s falling apart at the seams, his first instinct is to protect you. 

His breathing is heavy, lips parted, as his eyes flicker to your lips. The longing is so evident in those amethyst irises, but the light fades with every second that passes. Fighting with every instinct in his body, his thumb brushes along your jaw one last time before he releases your face, getting onto his feet.

“Just…have dinner with me before I go–please.”

Your eyes widen, heart pounding painfully as you watch him back away from you. 

No. 

You were done living in this fantasy you’d built. The dreamland you’d woven for Caleb and yourself. It was just as much of a prison as the one he’d put you in. 

Before you know what you’re doing, you reach out to grab his wrist and yank him back. Taken utterly by surprise, Caleb falls back toward you with little resistance. Almost falling into your lap, his hands shoot out to the couch behind your head to steady himself, his forehead nearly pressed into yours.

“What are you–”

Before your courage fades, you thread your fingers on either side of his face into his soft hair. You lean in the rest of the way, resting your forehead on his, his bangs prickling your skin. Your breaths mingle, his lips so close you could almost feel them–how soft they’d feel against your own.

Do. Don’t think.

You push your lips to his, swallowing his subtle gasp of surprise, pulling him as close as he can possibly get with his knees pressed up against the seat of the couch.

Caleb hesitates, his hands remaining respectfully by your head, his lips still.

But that lasts for less than a fraction of a second before his hands are gripping the back of your head, fingers tangled aggressively in your hair, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, groaning unabashedly into you.

Caleb’s lips are soft, slotting perfectly against yours like two broken pieces of glass. His teeth gently graze against your lip, begging for more. He’s the perfect balance of hungry and tender, demanding and delicate. 

You can tell he’s holding back, adorably so–not wanting to cross any boundaries unless you haul him over those lines. Despite that, he can’t help but cup the back of your head possessively, pulling you impossibly closer against his torrid lips.

Finally giving into what you’ve dreamt of for years possesses you with a boldness you’ve never experienced. It isn’t long before you’re teasing the seam of his lips with the tip of your tongue, wanting in.  

Caleb groans, one hand cautiously shifting to your hips. He hesitates, and you use your own palm to press him into your waist, begging him to hold you tighter. 

In one swift motion, he has your legs swung over his thighs, not going so far as to seat you on his lap. You sit on the cushion beside him, his arm cupped behind your back, the other holding your jaw. Your own hands are looped around his neck, inhaling his breath as your own, your tongue desperately tangled with his. 

To your dismay, Caleb pulls away, his fingers gently holding your chin. He pants, broad chest heaving with desire, tilting your face so that your eyes level with his.

“Tell me you want this.”

He fights with every instinct in his body that tells him to take your lips in his again. The way your beautiful eyes flutter at him, your lips perfectly parted so that he can feel your warmTH fan against him.

He’d spent his entire life forcing himself to look the other way–convincing himself that he should be the brother figure he thought you needed. Resolved his heart to still every time he saw those very fluttering eyes and intoxicating lips.

But now you were unraveling that very carefully crafted resolve, imploding it like a collapsing star. 

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N.”

You were a coward, but Caleb always made you brave.

Swinging your thigh over his lap, you straddle him, pressing him deeper into the couch. Caleb swears under his breath, his hands instinctively resting on your waist, locking your body against his. Holding his face in your hands, you bring him in so close his long eyelashes tickle your cheek. 

“I want this. I want you.” 

Caleb’s swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the intensity of his need, “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you saying that.”

He weaves his hand into the back of your head, pulling you to him, consuming your moans once more. His tongue claims every inch of you, causing your mind to go blank, throwing all prior restraint and reason out the window. 

Your body rolls instinctively against his lap, gasping when you feel something solid and thick right where your undoubtedly soaked panties press against Caleb’s lap.

His fingers tighten against your hips, threatening to leave fingertip shaped bruises, ripping his lips away with every ounce of self-control he has left.

“Y/N…this is your last chance to tell me to stop,” he rasps, eyes clouded over with a dark animalistic gleam. A desire that could only be born from years of pent up yearning and restraint.

“Once we start…I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs, holding your cheek so adoringly. It’s clear that, while he’s giving you an out, he prays to the Gods that you won’t tell him to stop. 

With a pointed roll of your hips, earning you a delicious breathy moan from him, you grip the back of Caleb’s head, tugging on his hair. You pull his head against your chest, cradling him affectionately.

Caleb inhales a sharp breath at the sound of your pounding heart against his ear. How many times he’d stayed up, fraught with haunting nightmares, listening to this very sound, to your steady breathing, grounding him to this reality.

“I’m done playing pretend, Caleb.”

You can feel his entire body go rigid beneath you, his thick muscles tensing with heated desire. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip with reverence. 

“Then…let me show you what’s real.”

With very little effort, Caleb picks you up, gripping your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist. You squeal, looping your arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life.

“A little warning next time would be nice,” you grumble as he walks you, presumably, to the bedroom he had given you. His bedroom.

Caleb chuckles, his frustratingly infectious laugh, pressing a wet kiss into your jaw, “You used to beg me to carry you like this all the time. Suddenly you don’t like it?”

Your cheeks heat up at the memories of all the times he’d carried you around when you feigned being too exhausted to move, “It’s different now.”

You find your back being pushed against the cold and hard surface of the bedroom door.

“You’re definitely right about that. Back then…I couldn’t do this.”

He presses his lips into the curve of your neck, biting down with just enough force to make you clench against his solid body, crying out in surprise. Your reaction elicits a deep and warm chuckle from him. He kicks open the room of the bedroom and sets you down gently on the plush of the mattress.

He keeps his fingers pressed firmly into your thigh, keeping it hooked against his waist. Your chest heaves with desire, looking up at him expectantly. He hovers just an inch above you, kneeling between your legs, elbow pressed into the bed beside your face, caging you in.

“You’re…” he rasps, fingers digging into the plush of your thigh. He trails off, at a loss for words as his eyes rake down your lips, to your wonderfully exposed neck, to the defined curves of your collar. He clenches his fist, trying to calm down and stop himself from absolutely devouring you.

Breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m what?” you tease, biting your lip at the way his eyes travel down your body, like it was his first time seeing the sky. Your hand travels from his jaw to trickle down his pulse, fingers teasing the bare skin where his silver necklace normally sat, the dogtag forgotten somewhere on the living room couch.

He groans, knees buckling under your touch. You gasp when you feel his excitement against you, your body instinctively arching up to grind against him. The sensation feels so mind numbingly intense that you can’t help but let out a soft moan, your eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. 

Caleb hisses, his fingers digging in, almost painfully, to your thigh. His hips chase the feeling, bucking against you again, making both of you groan. He holds your jaw tenderly in one hand, forcing you to look at him, his voice rough with lust. 

“You’re a brat,” he murmurs, sinking down to your neck, “Gonna be the death of me.”

He trails a kiss of heated kisses down your pulse point, using his tongue to draw the most beautiful moans from your kiss-bitten lips. When he reaches your collar, he laughs into your burning skin.

“Nothing else to say, princess?”

You whine at his condescending tone, never a fan of losing to him. Mustering up your courage, you trail your hand lower until they tease the waistband of his pants. You don’t give him a chance to protest before you slip your fingers in, gasping when they meet the hot leaking tip of his cock. It’d hardened to the point that it could practically sit at his belly button, so you didn’t have to reach very deep for what you wanted. 

You revel in Caleb’s string of choked expletives, biting back the moan that threatens to escape your own lips when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, desperately trying to stave off the orgasm you’re already building in him. 

Years of yearning, restraint, and being completely and utterly uninterested in anyone that wasn’t you had truly eaten his stamina.

It only encourages you to wrap your fingers snugly around him, giving him just one single languid stroke. 

Caleb’s fingers find your wrist, closing tightly enough to stop your ministrations, a dangerous warning reflected in his eyes. You can see his pulse pound in his neck, his breath coming out heavy and forced.

“Let’s not forget who’s in charge here, hm?” he grits hoarsely, deceptively calm, trying his best to hide how completely unraveled you have him with your pretty little fingers wrapped around him. When he has you panting so divinely beneath him, like he’d dreamt of for years.

With your hand caught in his, your eyebrows furrow in challenge. Your free hand weaves into the back of his head, pulling him back down so you can press a teasing kiss into his neck. When he stiffens above you, you sink your teeth in, marking him as yours, which he’d always been. At his hiss of ecstasy, your hips buck up to drag against his bare erection, nearly able to feel how wet you’d gotten through your panties and through your jeans.

“Such a tease,” he grounds out, his purple eyes burning with a dangerous desire, “Who taught you to be such a brat? Cause I know it wasn’t me.”

Your eyes flare with indignation, despite how badly your body literally quivers for him

“Not a brat. You’ve just always been a sore loser,” you taunt, pressing another heated kiss into his pounding jugular, this time letting your tongue tease him.

With a feral growl, you find both of your hands pinned above your head with just one of Caleb’s bigger hands, his grip punishing and addicting. He pushes his cock right into your inner thighs, giving you a taste of what’s to come. 

“You’re going to regret that, baby.”

With his free hand, he undoes the buttons on your blouse, yanking it open. Your coat had long been forgotten, probably somewhere on the couch, leaving you completely naked before him. You hadn’t worn a bra since you’d been stuck inside for the last three days, and with Caleb being at the base most of the time, you didn’t see the point. 

You yelp as the cool air-conditioned breeze hits your bare nipples, not noticing the way Caleb’s eyes widen, his pupils dilating like he’d been concussed. 

“Why aren’t you…” he trails off, his eyes doing their damn best to stare into your eyes and not at the soft plush of your breasts. The way your beautiful skin leads up to your hardened nipples that are just begging to be tasted. He doesn’t finish his thought, swearing like a sailor. 

Caleb’s violet eyes search yours, pleading with you. 

“Tell me one more time.”

You trace his jaw with your fingertips, trying to ignore how painfully exposed you feel. His eyes flutter shut, his cheek nuzzling into your hand. Like a puppy.

But when his eyes open again, there’s a ravenous fire that reminds you more of a rabid wolf than a sweet little house pet. 

“Tell me you want this. Because...” he pauses, his fingers tracing down your collar, stopping right before the swell of your chest.

“I can’t go back to playing house. I can’t go back to pretending to be your big brother. Not when I’ve tasted you.”

Your heart flutters, core tightening, at his simultaneously sweet and filthy words. Gently wriggling one hand free, you grab his finger that rests on your collar, guiding his hand down. Caleb’s breathing grows incredibly heavy and off-beat as he watches you lead his hand to cup your breast.

You bring his face to yours, whispering, “Caleb…”

“Please. I can’t wait anymore.”

Caleb’s eyes widen noticeably, cursing, “God you–you’re so fucking beautiful. Especially when you say my name like that. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

With one hand still pinned above you, the other holding his hand to your chest, you crane your neck up, pressing your forehead to his.

“Show me, Caleb.”

At the sound of his name rolling off your perfect tongue yet again, Caleb snaps. Gone was the chivalrous restraint he’d been hell bent on exhibiting. 

He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip before pulling your chin to his, consuming you in a mind numbing kiss. You’re so distracted by his tongue against yours that you don’t notice when his fingers close around your nipple, rolling it torturously. 

You tear your lips away with a moan, your back arching into him. 

Caleb chuckles, between trailing kisses down to your chest, “Needy little thing, huh?”

You’re about to snark back at him until he takes one of your nipples into his lips, letting his tongue circle it tenderly. You bite your lip to stop the embarrassing sounds that threaten to escape, the warmth of his mouth driving you to insanity.

Caleb snakes one hand to your lip, gently unfurling it from your teeth. He’s still attentively devouring you when he forces himself to tear away for one second.

“Don’t you dare hide those pretty sounds from me,” his voice is commanding, every bit of the Farspace Colonel you’d come to know. Except this time, the Colonel makes you shiver with desire and not fear.

His thumb presses deeper, teasing your tongue. Growing impatient with how you hold back your cries, he sinks his teeth into your hardened nipple.

“Nngh–Caleb!” you all but scream. You can feel him smiling against your chest before he alternates to the other, drunk on the noises you cry for him. The taste of your skin on his tongue.

“You always were so good for me.”

With his lips latched onto you, he uses his free hand to unbutton your pants, tugging them down until you’re in nothing but your soaked panties. His fingers trickle down, teasing the waistband. Before he goes further, he grips your chin, bringing your hazy eyes to his.

“More?” he murmurs tenderly, trying to get a temperature check on how you feel. He’d be damned if he ever made you unhappy again.

You sit up on your elbows, peering down at him. He’s flushed from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his lips shiny with saliva. You let yourself revel in how devastatingly handsome he is, a sinful thought you’d denied yourself many times before.

God, you needed him so fucking badly.

Desperate to make up for years of lost kisses, you pull him in for another. When you finally pull away, you press his forehead against yours, your breath uneven, noses touching.

“More. Please.”

Caleb grins, “That’s my girl.”

Pushing you back against the bed, he sucks a trail of hickeys from your neck, to your breasts, down to your stomach. 

In between his kisses, he murmurs, “Let me worship you like I’ve always wanted to.” You whine when he gets to your legs, sucking a bruise into your inner thigh. Your instinct is to pull away, acutely aware of how close he was to your soaking panties.

But Caleb’s fingers dig into the plush of your hips, effectively locking you against his desperate breath and wild eyes. He continues his relentless attack on your quivering thighs, purposely letting his nose brush against your panties, using his fingers to tease them to the side, letting his warm breath caress your most sensitive parts.

“You’re fucking soaked,” Caleb growls, almost in awe, “God, you spoil me.” He’s so close that he can smell you, his mouth literally watering in anticipation.  

You whine, at your wit’s end, “Caleb, don’t tease.” 

“Always so impatient,” he chuckles with a crooked grin, “I didn’t hold myself back for nearly a decade just to rush this.”

You groan in frustration, tears nearly forming in your eyes from the pure desperation, “You’re such a–hnngh!”

You cut yourself off with a breathy cry, more of a screech, when Caleb presses his tongue into the soaked fabric of your panties, nearly wedging himself into your leaking lips. 

He groans as he tastes you. Even through the fabric you taste like a fucking drug. If heaven had a taste…this would be it. 

“I’m such a what, princess?” Caleb chuckles breathlessly into your pussy, using your same teasing taunt from earlier. 

You’re about to reach over to smack him when Caleb finds your clit, even through the underwear, his lips sucking obsessively. Your hips buck up into his mouth, back arching off the bed, only to have Caleb press his big hand into your stomach, pushing you back down. 

“Dreamt about this, you know?” he grunts into you, practically taking a deep inhale of your intoxicating pheromones, his nose pressed into your underwear, as his tongue works you into a frenzy. He renders you unable to speak, even though you want to beg him to move your panties to the side.

He licks another stripe, this time between your lips and all the way until the tip of his tongue strokes your clit, making you squeal.

“Dreamt of how you’d smell.” He can’t help but breathe in a shaky breath, intoxicated by you, drunk off your scent. 

“Dreamt of how you’d taste.” He finally tugs your panties down your thighs, nearly cumming right then and there at the sight of your naked core, glistening for him. Like a hormonal teenage boy. 

“Hah–Caleb!” you’re cut off when his lips latch onto your bare clit, suckling gently as his fingers start to tease your folds, gathering up your copious slick with his fingertips and smearing it around.

“Dreamt of how you’d call my name. Just like that, babygirl.” He continues to devour you like a five course meal, better than any recipe he’d ever perfected. You tasted so divine on his tongue, he feared he’d never come back from this. Never be able to be without you. Always wanting to dive in between your legs, devour you until the only thing that dared leave your lips was his name. 

“God you taste…” he can’t even complete his thought before his tongue is wedged between your slit again, lapping you up greedily. You’re too lost in your own pleasure to tease him, your eyes fluttering backwards.

“Can you take a finger, princess?” he groans shakily, practically begging. His breath is hot on your sensitive core, making you tremble. 

“Y-Yes–mmf–please,” you huff, fingers carding through his hair as he nuzzles happily between your thighs. Like a bear with a honeypot. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against you before slipping one finger into you. You gasp, the sting from just one digit taking you by surprise–thicker and longer than your own. But it doesn’t necessarily hurt. 

Caleb bites the inside of his cheek, trying to focus on licking up the honey between your legs and not how unbelievably tight you are around just one finger. His cock leaks with the urgent need to feel you, and with how beautifully you’re unraveling for him, he has to fight from cumming untouched.

“You’re so…tight,” Caleb groans, almost in awe. He only had one finger in you. And you felt like that. You can only respond in a string of strangled moans, completely lost in the sensations that ripple through every nerve ending.

“Sh-shit,” he mutters, imagining what you’d feel like wrapped around his length as you clenched against his one finger. You were dangerous.

“Gonna need to stretch you out. Can you take another, sweet girl?”

You nod, not really knowing what he’s saying–too lost in this whole new world of ecstasy Caleb is introducing to you. But you trusted him with your entire life. 

Gently, Caleb adds another one of his lengthy fingers. You wince at the stretch, the pain ebbing over the pleasure, causing tears to spring to your eyes. Caleb instantly stills, suddenly hovering above you, his fingers still deep inside you. His purple eyes are crinkled in concern, his free hand brushing the stray strands of hair off your cheek. 

“Hey,” he murmurs tenderly, his thumb catching stray tears, “You with me?”

You writhe, still adjusting to the stretch of his second finger, the pain dulling slowly. His still fingers start to feel unnatural, the need for friction growing with every passing second. 

“I’m–angh–I’m good,” you pant, “C-Caleb–please. Move.”

Caleb nearly chokes, his cock lurching at your tearful and needy plea. He slowly starts to move his fingers in and out of you again with the utmost gentleness.

“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N,” he pants, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay, “So wet and–hah fuck–warm.”

You whine at his praises, your gut knotting in excitement, the sensation returning back to a tingling pleasure. 

Caleb gently scissors his two fingers, pressing his tongue against your core once more, desperate for another taste. 

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers,” he rasps in between sucking at your sensitive bud, “Feel good, princess? You like it when I praise you?”

You whine, nodding as best as you can, too far gone to feel ashamed. Your heart squeezes when you suddenly wonder just how Caleb had become so skilled with his fingers, with his tongue. 

But you’re pulled out of those thoughts when the man in question starts flicking his tongue with renewed vigor and passion. An overwhelming pressure builds in your gut that makes you writhe with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

Caleb presses you back down, flat against the bed, “Tell me, baby. Let me hear you.” He jerks his fingers, simultaneously flicking his tongue against your clit. His hips buck repeatedly, groaning into your core as he fucks into the mattress.

The lewd sounds of his fingers inside you makes your cheeks burn with want. The vibrations that roll off his tongue and straight into you send you reeling.

“C-Caleb, it feels–I-I can’t..take much more,” you squeal, feeling like your abdomen is going to burst. You almost want to shove him off, overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. Yet you can’t get enough of his hand, his mouth, on you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against you, fingers still inside you, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your breathing grows erratic, reduced to nothing but cries and moans, as he quickens his pace, curling his fingers to a hypersensitive part inside you. Your eyes go wide as the tension in your belly combusts, pleasure searing through your entire body like a wildfire.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, your back arching off the mattress. Caleb groans as he listens to your unabashed cries, his name on your tongue like a prayer. 

“Angh–Caleb! Oh God,” you whimper as he continues to devour you, even when you’re gushing. If it didn’t feel so mind blowing you’d be embarrassed that you were dripping quite literally on his face. 

“Fuck–dreamt of how you’d fall apart for me, just like this. But you’re…so much fucking better than my silly little fantasies.”

His fingers start to slow as your body trembles with overstimulation. You watch as he withdraws them, entranced by how they glisten and drip with you. With how exquisite you taste, intensified by just how many times he’d fantasized about this very scenario, he can’t help but lick his fingers absolutely clean. 

You shakily sit up on your elbows, a mix of mortified and turned on watching him drunk off your slick. Your chest and gut both flutter, your teeth clamping down on your lip.

You wanted to taste him too. 

Standing on your knees with him, you wrap your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise as you press your lips to his. His grunt is swallowed by your eager tongue, the taste of yourself confusingly arousing as you kiss him fervently. 

His hands hold your waist tight against him as he kisses you passionately, reverently. You can feel his massive erection against your stomach, his skin soft and burning against yours. It leaks profusely, smearing against your naval. 

Eagerly, breaking away for only seconds, you lift Caleb’s shirt up, scrambling to get it off of him, wanting him to be as exposed as you. 

While you have him off guard, you weave one of your hands with his, clasping your palms together. Resonance always came effortlessly to Caleb and you–as natural as breathing. Using your Evol, you manipulate Caleb’s gravity Evol, flipping him beneath you and onto the bed. Your tongue is still tangled with his as you lay atop him, swallowing his chuckles. Your cheeks warm as you try and summon your most alluring self, pressing soft and heated kissing down his jaw, into his thrumming pulse, his thick shoulders.

“You’re so damn cheeky,” he groans, voice gravelly with pent up need, inexplicably turned on by the way you can control his Evol like second nature. His cock twitches as your lips make their way down his body, needing to be buried inside you more than ever. 

As you descend further, lips at his abdomen, your intent becomes clear to Caleb. And while the thought of your lips around his dick makes him twitch like a virgin, which he unabashedly was, his impatience to be inside you grows to a painful peak.

He sits up, his hands finding your chin and tilting you to look at him. His voice is ragged, barely holding back the animalistic desire he feels for you. 

“Hey, no. You don’t have to. Let me worship you today.”

He doesn’t mention that the feeling of your lips on his burning skin, nearing his painfully hard erection has him just about ready to come undone. Untouched.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back down. You don’t push very hard but he lets himself fall back, weak to your every want and whim. 

“Haven’t you always wanted this, gege?” you grin teasingly, unsure where your confidence comes from. Your lips brush against the veins on his pelvis that lead to his very excited member. He jerks involuntarily, cursing under his breath–the familiar pet name now carrying an entirely new meaning.

“Sweethe–fuck,” Caleb chokes as your lips find their way around his thick leaking tip, deliberating shutting him up. 

You do your best to pull your teeth back, not having much experience doing this, especially not with one so…big. 

But big was an understatement. Caleb was…massive. He had girth as well as length, two prominent veins painted across the pink skin, standing incredibly tall against his abdomen. 

Maybe you should be scared–terrified, of how that would fit inside you later. But it only makes you want to please him more.   

Caleb’s fingers unconsciously find their way into your hair, tugging ever so gently. He does his best to stop himself from thrusting up into your impossibly tight throat.

“Hah–s’fucking…” he groans, voice haggard and forced as if he can’t breathe, “God, always knew that pretty little mouth would be perfect.”

His words encourage you to dare further, your tongue flicking against his leaking head, lapping up the leaking beads of his arousal. It’s surprisingly sweet, tinged with saltiness, no doubt from his addiction to apples, which makes it easier for you to take him deeper.

Caleb’s hips thrust up gently, his inexperienced excitement nearly controlling him completely. You relish in the way he almost uses your throat for his pleasure, slightly ashamed to think about how many times you’d imagined Caleb using you roughly.

Your thighs clench at the thought, a throaty moan escaping. Caleb’s hips stutter as the deep vibrations of your cry push him closer to painting your mouth milky white.

His voice comes out hoarse, almost harsh, “That’s enough, sweetheart. Come here.” He gently lifts your chin, his impossibly thick cock still buried down your tight throat. 

You whine, not stopping, wanting him to come as undone as he had rendered you. Your whine only sends Caleb closer to the edge with a strangled hiss.

You feel the familiar feeling of his Evol wrapping around you, lifting you off, and throwing you under him. You roll your eyes as he hovers above you, his eyes level with yours. 

“Always throwing me around with your Evol,” you grumble as if you hadn’t done the same thing moments ago. 

Caleb grins, the entire room nearly lighting up with his handsome smile. His fingers trace down your lip to your throat, his hand wrapping around it gently. 

“Would you rather I throw you around myself? That can be arranged.”

Your breath hitches as he pulls his pants the rest of the way down, giving you a brief reprieve to really admire his naked body. Caleb had always been well built, even in high school. But now, as he hovered above you, you were painfully reminded of just how much Caleb had grown up.

There was a reason Caleb attracted women left and right all throughout your lives. It literally got so excessive to the point he’d ask you to show up to campus and pretend to be his girlfriend to stop the countless advances. But now, after the explosion, after assuming the position of Colonel of the Farspace Fleet…

He was unreal.

Caleb chuckles, a teasing glint in his violet eyes as he grazes his thumb against the corner of your mouth, “Careful pip-squeak, any longer and you might start drooling.”

When you only respond with a silent glare and a gentle punch to his chest, his very muscled chest, Caleb grins and presses a tender kiss to your pouting lips.

“Later, we will discuss why you’re so good at that. For now…” he trails off hoarsely, entirely serious, despite his teasing tone. 

“For now let me show you what you’ve done to me, hm? How utterly you have destroyed me for anyone else.”

Your heart flutters at his words, throat prickly with emotions. Was it really possible that the two of you had felt the same way about each other for nearly your entire lives, both unwilling to speak up?

“How many times I told myself I was crazy, that I was just supposed to be your gege.”

He takes the base of his thick erection into his hand.

“How I had to physically remove myself from the house when you’d wear those god-forsaken shorts.”

He drags himself up and down your leaking core, gathering up your arousal and lathering it against his burning cock. God you were so unbearably wet he had to fight from diving back face first in between your legs.

“How painfully I’d ache when you curled up next to me, claiming to be scared of the thunder.”

He intentionally presses his tip harshly into your clit, making your eyes roll and your hips buck, a strangled moan of his name escaping your lips.

His voice grows strained as he lines himself up with your entrance. While you were anxious of what you knew was coming, your body craves him like no other, your hips instinctively grinding, as if to impale yourself on him. 

“How completely you own my heart.”

Caleb captures your lips in a searing kiss, eagerly consuming your cries of satisfaction as he gently rubs his engorged head against your unbearably tight heat. The anticipation eats at you, but you find yourself pulling your lips away. 

“I-I’ve never…” you murmur shyly, trailing off, hoping he gets the message without needing you to spell it out. You grip the sheets nervously, your knuckles white.

Caleb’s eyes snap to yours, so quickly his neck nearly cricks. There’s an unprecedented swirling fire in his irises. He hisses, a string of curses that you can’t quite make out, the hand holding the base of his cock shaking.

“You can’t just…You’re trying to kill me aren’t you, pip-squeak?” he growls, restraint hanging on by the thinnest of threads. He buries his face into your neck, taking deep breaths of your intoxicating scent.

“Is that bad?”

He lifts his head from your shoulder, holding your face in his hands, letting his erection rub freely against your slicked pussy.

“No. No. But you’re making it impossible not to…” he groans, slamming his palm down onto the bed.

He sits up, taking your jaw into his hands, cupping your face with all the adoration in this world and the next. 

“I haven't either. I’ve only ever wanted you. In high school, at the Academy…In this life, and every life after.”

“Ever since you held my hand for the first time, I’ve been yours.”

His words are so utterly devastating–sincere and painfully raw. It makes your chest constrict, your breath choked off. You find yourself rendered speechless again, despite how many confessions of your own were swirling in your mind, threatening to burst. 

Instead, you pull him towards your lips, only able to convey the depth of your own devotion with your actions. Caleb grunts into you, relenting as you demand entrance to his mouth. You lose yourself in him, guiding him to reposition himself at your entrance. 

Caleb nips at your bottom lip, his painfully hard dick in his hands once more, pressing gently into you.

You rip your mouth away in a pained squeal as he enters you, stretching you in ways you’d never fathomed. You’re so lost in the sting you don’t even notice the way Caleb’s knees buckle, his palm shooting out to catch himself before he falls on top of you, a string of hoarse expletives escapes him.

Caleb’s fingers gently brush away the hair that's fallen onto your face, the graze of his soft skin momentarily distracting you from the burning ache. His touch is so unbearably tender, it completely masks the way he’s falling apart at the seams, fighting his body’s instinct to explode white and hot inside of you.

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting from your jaw into your neck, “You’re so perfect for me. Can you take a little bit more?”

The muscles of your thighs quiver violently at the strain of your body trying to accommodate his stupidly large dick. And while it burns like nothing you’ve ever felt before, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. 

In the mush that he’s rendered your brain, you can vaguely hear yourself babbling, “C-Caleb–nngh–I-I can take more. Always wanted you–ngah–s’bad.”

Caleb’s amethyst eyes blacken, his jaw tightening sharply. 

“Y/N…you can’t just say things like that–say my name like that and expect me to–hah–keep it together,” he rasps, the thin thread of restraint, on the verge of snapping.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the tears spilling from the corner of your eyes. Your fingernails dig into the thick ropes of muscles in his shoulders, pulling him closer. The sting makes his teeth clench, inadvertently sinking another inch into you. 

“Mnngh–need you Caleb, I’ve always n-needed you,” you whimper, lips against his ear. Caleb stiffens.

“Fuck–okay baby. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything.”

You look down as he sinks yet another inch into you, his vein throbbing as it tries to nestle into you. Even through the searing stretch, you’re mesmerized by just how big he is, and how he’s fitting himself so perfectly inside you. The muscles of Caleb’s abdomen tremble with restraint, doing his best to keep from pounding into you.

Caleb kisses your cheek, softly licking up your stray tears.

“G-God the real thing is so much better than anything I could’ve ever dreamt up,” he grunts, squeezing your hips tenderly as he tries to bottom out, “Wanted this–wanted you for so damn long.”

The initial pain had ebbed into a dull ache that was quickly bleeding into the same ecstasy he’d just given you with his tongue. 

“Ngah–wanted you since I can remember Caleb,” you confess brokenly, thick with the release of imprisoned emotions. You do your best to reach your shaky hand up to his perfect face, moving his sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes. He leans into your touch on instinct, that boyish charm returning to his face as his eyes shut in pure adoration.

“A-always…hah–have. So badly.”

Caleb groans at the genuinity in your confession, his normally purple eyes blackened almost entirely.

“So–nngh–you feel so incredible. I shouldn’t have wasted so much fucking time,” he groans, thrusting the rest of the way, bottoming out in your perfect little cunt.

Your cries are half way between a squeal and a moan as you feel him hit your cervix, pain blending overwhelmingly with the vast sea of pleasure.

“Caleb, s’too big–it’s too much,” you wail, feeling nearly split in half as his cock throbs inside of you, pulsing with the primal need to mark you. You look down and nearly yelp when you see his massive erection buried between your thighs–it was far too massive.

“You can, baby. You can take it,” he groans, bucking his hips ever so slightly, desperate for the feeling of your heavenly walls wringing him.

“Be a good girl, yeah? For me?” Caleb murmurs, his teeth nipping at your pulse, which earns him a beautiful moan from you. Your stomach flutters at his deceptively innocent pleas, your deep-rooted desire to please him, your perfect gege, taking over. 

Your eyelids feel unbearably heavy as you stare into his heated irises, nodding eagerly.

Caleb exhales a shaky breath, bending down to press a burning kiss to your lips. You return it with equal fervor, whining when he pulls away, too quick for your liking.

He chuckles breathlessly, wiping the drool from your lip tenderly, “Say it, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.” He punctuates his demand with the slightest shift of his hips, causing the thick head of his cock to brush against a particularly sensitive spot in you. 

“Oh god Caleb–! I can take it, I can take it, please!”

Caleb hisses as his hips start to move. He hikes your thigh up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, caging him against you. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your rear, holding you impossibly closer to him as his pelvis snaps into your skin. The sound of wet skin colliding against each other rings loudly in your ear, lewd and filthy. 

His thrusts are erratic, trying to find a suitable rhythm without losing his mind and taking you like a rabid beast. His other hand kneads at your breast, fingers toying with your perfectly pebbled nipples. 

“Hah–taking me so well, always–nngh–knew you’d be absolutely perfect wrapped around me. Thought about it so many damn times.”

You bite your lip so hard you think you might draw blood, squeezing your eyes shut as his movements quickly blur the line between pleasure and pain. Your eyes flutter open when you feel Caleb’s thumb against your lip, prying your teeth away.

“Look at me Y/N. Let me see those beautiful eyes.”

Despite his rough movements, his eyes are jarringly tender, looking at you so adoringly–as if he wasn’t rutting into you like a madman.

You force your eyes open, blinking rapidly with the weight of the ecstasy raining down on your body. You briefly look down at where he’s connected to you, too fucked out to even notice the reddish-pink sheen coating Caleb’s member.

When your eyes flutter shut again, Caleb tsks, pressing his palm against the hypnotizing bulge against your stomach. Physically being able to see where he was buried so perfectly inside you drove him just to the edge of cumming, unable to stop himself from touching it. 

Your eyes widen, squealing as you feel your walls harshly clamping down on his cock, nestled right at your g-spot. Caleb himself falters at the sensation, growling as he twitches uncontrollably inside you. 

That was a mistake. You were already impossibly tight as it was, making you bare down on him only served to push him headfirst into the climax he’d been staving off.

“Baby,” he pants raggedly, “Nngh–shit–!” His hips stutter, knees buckling, burying himself into the curve of your neck. He bites down on your pulsing skin, forcing himself to pull out of your warm embrace, as he releases seemingly endless ropes of thick milky cum onto your beautiful stomach. 

You whine at the loss of him buried inside of you, your core fluttering around nothing. You prop your chin up, getting lost in the way he paints your stomach, fisting himself furiously through his climax. 

“Can’t control myself around you,” he grits through his orgasm, jaw slacking, “Not anymore.” Every defined muscle of his toned body quivers with the power of his orgasm.

Shivering at the sensation of his burning release splattering on your abdomen, you reach up to cup his face as he cums. Of course, he leans into your touch on instinct, the onslaught of emotions intensifying his climax.

Your body aches at the hollowness, but it quickly dissipates as you watch Caleb’s face, beads of sweat pebbling his skin, contorted in a pleasure so intense, a pleasure you’d given him. Squirming at the sight of him, still spurting cum, your fingers find your clit desperately.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you touch yourself to the image of him writhing above you. Not even a split second later, you feel the pull of gravity, your wrist being yanked away and pinned above your head. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You whine as Caleb presses back against you, his cock replacing where your fingers had just been, “Y-You already–You don’t have to force yourself Caleb. I can–”

Your words are caught in your throat when Caleb lines himself back up with you, smearing the combined arousal messily around, teasing you relentlessly. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m done with you,” he grins widely, using his clean hand to realign himself. You glance down and realize Caleb is still unbearably hard, even after the absurd amount he’d painted your stomach with.

He slips back into you, your eyes rolling back at the familiar stretch. Except it’s so much more intense this time, your body knowing just what Caleb could do to you, and craving it like nothing else. 

“Oh God just like that, Caleb–please!” you cry, pride gone with the wind, as he starts an earth-shattering rhythm, hips rolling into you with precision and purpose. 

Caleb curses, the oversensitivity heightening every sensation, every desperate thrust into your perfect angel cunt, “Tell me, princess. How do I make you feel?”

You try to force your mind to cooperate and find the words that you want to say, “Feels…feels so–mnngh–Caleb!”

You can vaguely hear him laughing warmly as your mind goes blank, the thick head of his leaking cock pounding into you ruthlessly. He’d practically mapped out every sensitive nook of your pussy and he fully intended on taking advantage.

He gently grabs your throat with his free hand, applying pressure with only his fingertips and not his palm. 

“Hm? Feels like what, sweetheart?” His thrusts slow to a tortuous pace, enough to have you squirming for more but not enough to push you over the edge of release. And he knows it.

“Caleb, don’t fucking tease me,” you whine breathlessly, “Hah–Pleease.” Your hips move against his pelvis, trying to chase the pleasure yourself. 

“Needy little brat,” he murmurs affectionately, “You know I can’t say no to you.”

With those words Caleb starts pounding into you with renewed vigor, hell-bent on making you cum just as hard as he just did. His fingers wedge between your joined bodies, easily finding your clit and rubbing just how he knows you like. The familiar tension in your gut builds at an alarming speed, your body desperate to release after being even slightly edged.

“In return, you can show me how much you’ve wanted this, hm?”

His knowing words, the underlying authority in them, make you whimper with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. The combination of his relentless touch, his filthy whisperings, 

Fuck, the Colonel of the Farspace Feet was your absolute undoing. 

Caleb’s own muscles tense as his sensitive cock, hardened beyond belief again, starts to twitch inside you once more. You’d literally just milked him dry and he still couldn’t get enough. He probably never would.

“Oh god, so c-close Caleb!”

“Yeah? Show me how much you’ve wanted me to fuck you senseless, baby.”

He punctuates his demand with a twitch of his fingers against your clit,  driving so deeply into you that you nearly choke. Your back arches so deeply it hurts, the cold feeling of his cum still painted across your stomach, a long forgotten sensation in the back of your mind. 

“How much you want to cum on your gege’s cock.”

Your body shudders as you come undone explosively against his violent thrusts. Your fingers dig into his biceps, making Caleb hiss with satisfaction, his eyes unable to tear away from your gorgeous face as you cum on him. 

“Oh god–please! Mnngh Caleb, c-cumming. Wan’ to cum for you s’bad! Don’t stop–please!” 

Caleb groans at your filthy words, his own hips stuttering as he fucks you through the endless waves of pleasure, feeling every contraction of your perfect little cunt. 

“Juuust like that, give it to me sweetheart.”

Your thighs tremble violently as he rocks you through the unprecedented pleasure. With your eyes rolled back, your tongue slightly lolled out, crying out for him repeatedly. Caleb can’t stop himself.

In your fucked out state, you can vaguely feel the caress of his gravity Evol, his hands still busy working at your clit and your breasts. It maneuvers your thighs so that they’re pressed firmly into your chest, nearly folding you in half. He uses his Evol to grab a pillow, throwing it under your lower back, completely changing the angle at which he ruts into you.

“C-Caleb–” you gasp, eyes wide as the pleasure turns sharp, “S’too much. Feels…”

Despite feeling unbearably sensitive, your eyes still flutter in bliss. You want to tell him to stop, but your body physically refuses, still curling up to meet his thrusts. At this new angle, your knees nearly on either side of your head, his cock practically buries itself into your throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he rambles, “I’m sorry.” But he doesn’t stop. “A little more, yeah? You can take a little bit more for me, right baby?” Just by his voice alone, you can tell he’s on the verge of another powerful orgasm. 

Something about the way his violet eyes bleed with desperation, with devotion. Your body finds its way inexplicably bending to his every will, readying itself to take more of him. Even through the sting of overstimulation, even through the ache of how deeply he has your body folded into a mating press.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his cum smearing messily across your stomach, you sit up to press your forehead against his, your hips screaming in protest as your body is bent even further. 

“Cum–mnngh–Cum inside me Caleb, want to feel you. Need you s’bad.”

Caleb’s eyes widen, his rough movements nearly stuttering to a complete stop.

“What? Don’t play with me right now, Y/N,” he seethes through grit teeth, willing his hips to stay still, “You can’t just–hah fuck–say that.”

Your eyes roll at Caleb’s slow and controlled thrusts, each one deeper and more punctuated than the last. You force your mind to cooperate, fingers weaving into his hair, “M’serious. Please Caleb, for me?”

Caleb swears, picking up his pace again, each thrust deliberately bruising past your g-spot, stretching you to your breaking point. 

“God, you know I can’t say no to you,” he growls, “You know how many times I’ve thought about filling you up?”

“You can say—nngh—no, you just don’t want to,” you playfully quip through your tear-blurred vision. Caleb’s jaw ticks at your blatant teasing. 

“The mouth on you…” he nearly murmurs, voice gruff and controlled, “Let’s give that filthy little tongue something else to do.” 

You let out a high pitched whine when Caleb thrusts harder. You feel him trail two fingers along your stomach, the moist sensation of him catching some of his cum making you convulse as you near another orgasm. 

When Caleb brings his right hand up to you, slick fingers brushing against your lips, you can’t even protest. Because you want it. But he absolutely did not need to know that. 

“Open,” he murmurs, clean thumb stroking your chin, two dripping fingers so close they almost graze your lips.

You want to curse your traitorously submissive body because your mouth parts on instinct, allowing Caleb to put two fingers into your mouth, pressing gently onto your tongue. 

The taste of his salty-sweet pearly essence renders you a submissive desperate mess, your hands coming to grasp his forearm as you clean his digits, peering at him through your eyelashes. 

He groans, a strangled curse on the tip of his tongue, as he watches you suck on his fingers. His pupils are blown, drinking in the sight of you, hips faltering, overwhelmed by how fucking beautifully you fall apart for him. How effortlessly you unravel him.

“Just like that, princess,” he coos, “God, it’s like you were–hah–created in a lab to drive me insane.”

You whine against his fingers, feeling an orgasm more violent than a hurricane brewing in your core. Your pelvis aches with the weight at which he fucks you into the mattress but all you can feel is him. And the otherworldly sensations he rains down upon you, your body’s pleasure already second nature to him. 

“Now be a good girl and cum again.” 

His skilled thrusts, his animalistic demand, his smoldering purple eyes that watch you with a terrifying blend of obsession and devotion–it’s all enough to send you plummeting towards your third climax of the night. 

In your nearly blacked out state, you don’t even remember that Caleb’s fingers are still toying with your tongue when you bite down to stay conscious amidst your explosive finish. He chokes, knees buckling, but doesn’t flinch–nor does he withdraw his hand. In fact, he only seems to fall deeper into the abyss that is you.

“Shit–shit, Y/N!” Caleb’s moans wash across your lips, his damp forehead against yours, letting you bite down on the fingers of his right hand. Reveling in the sensation of your teeth digging into his digits, your perfect gummy walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, the pain pushing him over the edge, “Take it all for me, yeah? You can do that for me right, baby?”

His words make your entire body tighten up even further, biting harder, squeezing tighter. The wet sounds of your arousal against his pelvis, pounding into your thighs, mixed with your screams of his name have him all but combusting, exploding white, hot, and plenty inside of you. 

“I can–I can!” you practically beg, drunk off the feeling of him exploding inside you, “W-Want it–want more.” His fingers fall from your lips as you speak–much to his dismay.

Caleb groans, unable to stop rutting inside of you at your heated pleas, using the frictionless thrusts to push his cum as deeply inside of you as he can. 

“There’s my perfect girl–nngh–take it all. Look at you, taking every last drop for me.”

Your hips ache in protest, but in your fucked out bliss you can’t find yourself saying anything but his name, repeatedly, tenderly, reverently. The feeling of him inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible on your naval, the warmth of his cum almost ebbing to even your fingers, his unbearably sweet and filthy words.

“Caa–leb,” you moan brokenly, the intense overstimulation clearing your hazy mind.

Caleb presses his lips to yours, still gently thrusting into you. You whine into his mouth as he pushes your thighs deeper into your chest.  

He kisses you absolutely breathless, a line of spit trailing from your lips to his as he pulls away.

“Yeah, princess?”

You desperately tap his broad chest, “Heaavy.”

Caleb chuckles, shifting his weight off of you, leaving his dick inside you still. You moan when you can finally put your legs down, every muscle in your body aching and trembling.

“Sorry pip-squeak, got carried away,” he murmurs tenderly, shifting all his weight onto his elbows, still hovering above you, cock still nestled inside you. 

You squeak when he twitches inside you, feeling incredibly sore.

“Caleb, if you don’t pull out of me right now…” you grumble with a playful glare, “Say goodbye to your penis.”

Caleb chuckles, forcing himself to pull out of you despite how his body aches to stay inside you. He groans as he slips out, a moan of your own escaping as you flutter emptily. 

“Always resorting to violence.”

You briefly peek at him, still kneeling between your legs. He’s still hard, faint streaks of pink mixed with both your essences. With his Evol, he catches a box of tissues in his hand, tenderly cleaning the mess between your legs, and then himself. You wince at the sight of blood on the tissues and look away.

You shut your eyes, enjoying the afterglow of each other’s last night together. You don’t see when Caleb grabs your used panties, wet with your arousal and his saliva, stuffing them into the side of the mattress. To retrieve later. 

Caleb flops down beside you. You’re about to lay your head on his chest when you feel him lifting you, with his arms this time and not his Evol.

“Hey!” you yelp, but he only gently places you on top of him, pressing your cheek into his chest, right where his heart thrums. Your previous resistance dissipates, as you hum happily, nuzzling into his embrace.

He laughs breathlessly, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“You’re like the stray cat that would show up at our door every morning. Hissing and swatting when we tried to pet her, purring and mewling when we gave her our breakfast scraps.”

You smack his chest lightly.

“Ow,” he chuckles lightheartedly, “Nevermind, at least that cat was nice sometimes.”

The silence washes over the pair of you. It’s comfortable and warm, but a heavy tension hangs in the air, both of you knowing the bubble will pop once the unspoken words are uttered.

“Caleb…” you start gently, but he squeezes you tighter against him.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, almost a plea, “Just…don’t say it. Not yet.”

Your heart clenches at his vulnerability, not knowing how to console him. You both know what’s coming. 

Pressing a tender kiss into his chest, you prop yourself up to look at him, his amethyst eyes bright under the soft ambient lighting. 

“I can’t stay in Skyhaven.”

You choose your words carefully, but Caleb and you both know what you’ve left unsaid. 

I can’t stay with you.

Caleb is silent, though his grip on you tightens imperceptibly, his heartbeat quickening alarmingly. 

“I know.”

His voice is small, arms holding you tighter. As if you might disappear right then and there. To him, you might as well be. 

“I know I can’t keep you here, even if it’s for your safety. No matter…how much I want to.” 

He strokes your naked back, trying to commit every ridge, every goosebump to memory, “I…I don’t know how to take care of you anymore.”

Your chest throbs inexplicably at his words. That’s what you’d wanted him to see all this time, isn’t it? That he’d stuffed you into a cage, plucking your feathers until you could no longer fly. 

“You could come back with me,” you say, “Linkon is your home too.” You're only half serious; you knew he couldn’t just leave the Fleet. 

Caleb smiles up at you, but it’s a haunted, bittersweet smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. In fact, his eyes are as hollow as you’ve ever seen them, almost staring right past you, into a blackhole behind you. 

“I can’t leave.” 

Those three simple words, raw and unfiltered–his soft and broken face, remind you of the Caleb you thought you had lost. The Caleb you were so desperately trying to get back. 

He really was right in front of you.

Like the sun finally coming out after a day of rain, it dawns on you that maybe Caleb had never been your captor–the one who locked you in a gilded prison and watched from outside as your wings fluttered into the golden bars. 

You realize that Caleb was a captive bird in that same cage, preening your ruffled, fraying feathers as you struggled, bound by the same fate that chained you.

Except Caleb’s wings were also clipped by the weight of your expectations, imprisoned by the image of him that you’d so desperately clung to. That you forced on him–punishing him when he didn’t fit the mold.

And while you were being set free, he’d stay locked inside that glass cage, watching you fly through the clouds.   

Watching the thunderstorm outside, you reminisce, “Do you remember that nest of baby birds in the big tree in front of the house?” 

Caleb is taken aback, but he nods, laughing softly, “Yeah. I remember we’d always worry when it rained if the fledglings would be okay.”

The rain patters against the massive windows, just like the days after the birds had hatched. 

“You’d always wonder…if the baby birds would fly off once the rainy season ended–going their separate ways. It always made you so sad.”

Caleb stops breathing for a second, unsure why you remember those musings from your childhood. He’d intended them to be inconsequential; he’d never expected you to hold onto them. He keeps his eyes on the unending crystal raindrops streaming down the windows. 

“Yeah. I’d always wonder if the birds would come back–after leaving the nest.” 

He briefly ponders if you were awake those nights–when he was awakened by nightmares and the only way he could breathe again was to sit by your head as you slept, weaving his fingers with yours. Watching those same baby birds from your window.

You look at him, your chin propped on his chest, leaning into his palm when it comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear. Your voice is tender and melancholic when you finally find the words, pressing a soft kiss to where his heart beats under yours. 

“Sometimes, they come back.”

© aeyumicore 2025.

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[umamaki]

cw: lowk red flag caleb lol, virginity loss

Caleb is pissed when you get asked out for the first time. He had deliberately warned everyone in both of your social circles to stay away from you. Not without threats of violence or death, either. So yeah, he’s pissed as fuck when you tell him. Did he have to burn the whole world down merely to keep you all to himself? To protect you from perverts and creeps?

But, unfortunate and naive, you were so damn excited for this date. He couldn’t spoil your mood. Not when you asked him which dress to wear—both of them too short for his liking—and certainly not when you asked him to zip up the back for you.

There was just something about how you looked, all dolled up and cute to see someone who wasn’t him. He can already barely control himself around you; even the thought of another man having access to you like this makes him utterly sick. “It’s just not a good idea. All guys want the same thing.”

“You’re a guy aren’t you, Caleb? So what, are you telling me you’re like that too? Hmm?” He wants to wipe the playful smile off your face. You just think everything’s some fucking game.

“He’s gonna want to kiss you. Touch you. Fuck you. Have you ever been fucked? Huh, pipsqueak?”

He thinks he went too far then, notes the way your eyes widen and lips slightly part. You shake your head, but he already knows. He knows everything about you. So when you ask if he can help you, give you some advice, he knows exactly how he will.

“So naive, let me just show you.” He smashes his lips against yours. The force would’ve sent you falling backwards had he not steadied you with his hand on the small of your back.

“This is how to kiss…” he mutters it into your mouth, not caring that your teeth are hitting each other.

“And this…” he lifts your skirt just enough so that he can pull your panties to the side and slide his fingers along your puffy folds. “This is how it feels to be fingered.”

“Ah—Caleb!” You squeal when he fully plunges his finger in deeper than your own fingers ever could. He adds another, and soon the room is filled with your moans and the lewd squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of your soaked pussy.

His lips are back on yours, and this time his tongue is shoved inside your mouth, claiming it. He goes faster when he feels your walls clench around him, and lets you grip his biceps while you come around his fingers and leave behind crescent shaped indents on his arms.

He nearly throws you on the bed, eager to yank off your underwear and free himself from his own boxers, wasting no time in aligning his tip to your still sensitive cunt.

“This is how to take it like a good fucking girl.” You try your best to relax, to be so good for him as he buries himself into you. He lets you get used to his size, going slow. Not moving until you practically beg him to, then there’s no going back. He’s brutally snapping his hips against yours and watching your tits bounce through your dress.

“Already gonna come on my cock? You really are inexperienced. Can’t even control yourself. Go on then. Fucking. Come.” With two last jerks of his hips, your climax washes over you and he tries so fucking hard to delay his own orgasm. He begins to pull out but your legs lock him in place. He cums on the spot—still inside you.

“Don’t care that I ruined your dress? How you gonna go on your date now, baby?”

“Hm. Guess I have to cancel,” you say, faux disappointment coating your words.

He pauses. “There was no date.”

“There was no date.” You confirm, wearing that same stupid grin from before. Luckily your schedule is free, because he has a hell of a punishment waiting for you after that.