#lads ocs

[taking-a-breather]

Imagine if I did "Right person, wrong time" between Felix and Sylvia and how much angst that would be. ovo

[cloudsofteeth]

Little Prince Fishy!!! 💖

It suddenly hit me that this would be a perfect AU for him

[myearts-uwu]

Sylus would be an amazing weighted blanket let's be real.

Mephisto is clearly not amused with being the third wheel 24/7 atp

[apple-crunch]

I truly believe that Sylus would not stop trying until he gets a girl.

Sylus made sure you were well rested for tonight, sending your four sons, with an age gap of only 2 years each, out with Luke and Kieran.

A chorus of plop plop plop echoes in the master bedroom, the room was dimly lit having only the night lights on and the moons shine seeping through the windows.

Your husband had you in a mating press for the hundredth time since your marriage. Legs pushed back till it's beside your face, hands held together in his tight grip, you had no choice but to take his dick powelling into you. A white creamy ring squelches from where the two of you connect, cum splashing and dripping all over your thighs and matress. You were barely coherent, eyes drooping, mouth drooling, you could barely form words other than pathetic moans from how deep Sylus was inside of you.

He was fucking you deep and hard, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he bottoms inside of you. Eyes focused on your cunt making sure you're taking all, if not, most of him. "Wan' a girl so bad, baby, fuck! C'mon, give 'er to me." He slurred. The man was so pussy drunk.

[khioneee]

zayne hates the way you look in a hospital bed.

the sheets are too white, the room too sterile, and the iv in your arm makes his stomach twist in ways he won’t admit. you look smaller like this.

too still, too quiet. it doesn’t suit you.

‘you should get some rest,’ he says, his voice even, professional. detached, like a doctor should be. but you know better. you always have.

‘you’re here again,’ you murmur, tilting your head just enough to meet his eyes.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he adjusts the blanket over your shoulders, making sure it covers you properly. it’s a useless gesture because the room is warm, and you’re not shivering.

but he does it anyway.

a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. ‘you should be more careful, doctor,’ you tease, voice quiet but laced with something familiar, something warm. ‘the others might think i’m your favorite patient.’

he should roll his eyes. scoff. say something sarcastic like he always does. but this time, he doesn’t. instead, he just shakes his head, something unreadable passing through his gaze before he looks away.

for a second, you swear he almost says something. but then he pulls back, his hand leaving your blanket, his presence retreating ever so slightly.

you let it go.

it’s late when he comes back. the overhead lights are dimmed, the quiet hum of machines the only thing filling the room. you’re half-asleep when you hear the soft click of the door, but even in the haze of exhaustion, you know it’s him. you always do.

‘you should go home, zayne,’ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. ‘get some rest.’

‘i was.’ his voice is quiet, careful. ‘didn’t feel right.’

‘you care for me too much.’

‘nonsense,’ he said instead. ‘there’s only way too much or none at all.’

you force your eyes open, blinking up at him. he’s standing at the foot of your bed, hands in his pockets, his coat slightly wrinkled like he’s been running on autopilot all day.

‘zayne—’

‘you said something earlier,’ he interrupts, and there’s something in his tone—hesitation, maybe. or something heavier. ‘about being my favorite patient.’

you let out a tired huff of laughter. ‘what, did it offend you? i can take it back.’

he exhales sharply through his nose, not quite a laugh, but not quite nothing. then, after a beat, he moves closer, just enough for his voice to drop into something barely above a whisper.

‘you’re my most important patient.’

the words settle between you, sinking into the space where exhaustion lingers, where unspoken things have always gone unsaid.

you study him, taking in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you.

‘yeah?’ you murmur, softer this time.

his gaze flickers to yours, steady and certain. ‘yeah.’

you don’t say anything after that. but you don’t need to.

instead, your eyes drift to the chair beside your bed. ‘you’re staying, aren’t you?’

he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. with a quiet sigh, he lowers himself into the chair, shifting slightly to get comfortable. not that he ever will. the chair is stiff, unforgiving, and he’s been running on too little sleep for too many days.

but he doesn’t complain. he never does.

you watch him for a moment longer, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes linger on you even as he leans back.

‘go to sleep,’ he murmurs, closing his eyes. ‘doctor’s orders.’

you want to argue, to tell him he should be the one sleeping somewhere comfortable, but the weight of exhaustion is already pulling you under. the last thing you see before you drift off is zayne, slouched in that uncomfortable chair, his breathing steady, his presence unwavering.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel alone.

because you never knew it. never realized it.

but zayne became a doctor for you.

when you were little and scraped your knee, he was the one who pressed plasters to your skin, his hands careful, his touch gentle. when you sniffled from the sting, he’d ruffle your hair and say, ‘there. all better.’

when you climbed trees too high and got stuck, it was zayne who came running, scolding you under his breath as he helped you back down. and when you fell, because you always fell, he was the one who knelt beside you, wiping the dirt from your palms before you even had the chance to cry.

when you got sick, he was the one who snuck into your house with soup he swore wasn’t that bad, sitting by your bed even when you told him to go home. he would press the back of his hand against your forehead like he had seen adults do, frowning like he could will the fever away just by staying close.

when you started training to be a hunter, he was the one who patched you up after every battle, every wound, every brush with death.

he never once told you to quit, but every time he stitched a cut or wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands would linger, as if memorizing every scar.

and now, when the world threatens to break you, he’s still here.

still taking care of you. still choosing to stay.

you wake up hours later, the room still cloaked in soft, early-morning silence. the first thing you notice is the warmth around your wrist.

zayne.

he’s asleep in the chair, his head tilted slightly, dark circles visible beneath his eyes. his hand is wrapped around your wrist, fingers loose but still holding on, like he fell asleep taking your pulse.

like he needed proof that you were still here.

still breathing.

you shift slightly, just enough to tighten your fingers around his. he stirs for only a second but doesn’t let go.

and neither do you.

[gattapotatta]

Nobody:

Sylus randomly once in a while:

[whenstarsundress]

Can you write the “left on read” scenario for Caleb? Thank you so much, u are SO talented 🤎

the fight had been bad. you hadn’t even been yelling or screaming at each other. it was worse. it was cold and calculated, like two strangers standing at opposite ends of a battlefield.

in the end you had told him you needed space and caleb, ever the soldier, nodded once like he was taking orders. but you saw how his jaw clenched and how his hands had curled into fists at his sides.

when you walked out you had ridiculously thought he’d chase you. he didn’t. he never did.

hours passed. then days. then almost two weeks. and you came to a point where you felt like this was the end.

until he sent a message.

we need to talk.

you saw it. you didn’t reply. you left him on read. just for now. just to give yourself a breather and think about everything.

caleb didn’t even granted you five minutes before the next message came.

don’t leave me on fucking read.

your shaking fingers hovered over the keyboard. a minute, then another until a knock echoed through your apartment. a heavy, gloved fist hitting your door like a warning. you barely had time to open it before caleb walked in.

his uniform was soaked from the rain and he carried a storm behind his eyes.

“don’t ever do that again,” he said quietly, deadly.

“do what?” you asked, heart pounding.

he didn’t answer. just stared at you like you’d ripped out his spine and he was somehow still standing. “you left and i let you. that was a mistake.”

your breath caught. “caleb—”

“no.” he stepped closer. “you don’t get to shut me out. not after everything. you don’t get to leave me on read like i’m just some name in your phone.”

the air between you crackled. he looked like he was seconds from falling apart or snapping you in half. maybe both.

you wanted to take a step back, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. he held your face like it was fragile glass, when he breathed. “you’re not walking away. not again.”

his mouth crashed onto yours and nothing about the kiss was sweet. it was war. teeth clashed. gloves still on. he pulled you closer, hands roamed over your body like he staked claim.

his voice broke only once, “i can’t lose you.”

and when you whispered, “then don’t”, he let go.

not of control, but of everything else. the fear. the pride. the silence.

your back hit the wall hard, but caleb didn’t even blink. one gloved hand wrapped around your throat, holding it possessively. as a warning.

“you think i’m going to let you go without a fight?” his breath was hot under the controlled rage. “you don’t get to leave me on read and walk away like i’m nothing.”

his thigh slid between yours, forcing you open. you gasped, but he was already on you as he kissed you again, his tongue invading like he was conquering territory. he tasted like rain, heat and that unmistakable metallic edge of danger.

“you’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth. “say it.”

“i’m yours,” you whispered dizzy.

he smiled cruelly and satisfied. his gloved hand slid down your body, trailing heat over your shirt, your stomach, between your thighs. the leather rubbed against your clothed core and you whimpered.

“i should punish you for ignoring me,” caleb said darkly. “but that’d mean not touching you. and i’m too fucking weak for that.”

you barely had time to blink before he had your pants halfway down and your leg hitched around his waist. “condom?” you managed breathlessly.

his eyes met yours, black storms behind them. “not today. today i need you raw.”

you had no time to protest as he pressed into you in one hard, brutal thrust. you cried out and clawed at his soaked jacket, your spine arching off the wall. he didn’t pause or gave you the time to adjust.

he knew his good girl could take it.

“you’re tight,” he muttered, hips slamming into you. “tighter than i remember. did you think about me while you were gone? did you touch yourself and cry into your pillow?”

your only answer was a sob. he groaned, “fuck. i missed that sound.”

he gripped your ass with both hands and lifted you higher, pinned you harder. you could feel the tension in every muscle. how close he was to snapping. but caleb didn’t lose control—he held it like a weapon.

his thrusts stayed steady and devastatingly deep. every time he bottomed out, you swore you saw stars. every time he pulled back, you begged for more.

“you gonna come for me?” he whispered, dragging his gloved fingers up your neck again. “or should i keep fucking you until you forget why you walked away?”

“caleb—!”

“say it.”

“i’m yours,” you moaned, head falling back. “i won’t walk away again—please. caleb, please!”

and that was it.

he growled—actually growled—and snapped his hips faster and harder. you came around him like a tidal wave, screaming his name as your nails raked down his back. he followed seconds later, panting and biting into your shoulder.

but even after? he didn’t let go. didn’t pull out and didn’t soften. he held you against him like a man who knew how easily he could lose everything.

and in the silence he allowed his voice to crack, to show that even a man like him can break.

“don’t leave me again.”

[aajjks]

warnings: yándèrè, 18+, püssy èátíng (óràl).

yandere man who can’t live— no— breathe without eating your pussy.

Yandere men who are borderline disgusting when it comes to giving you head, who moan so loud, gutteral when you pull on their hair as they push their tongue so deep inside your heat.

Yandere man who are not even gentle about eating you out because hes so busy taking everything your cunt can give him, and no, he’s not normal about it.

The way he sucks on your clit it has you seeing stars, you cry, moan but he doesn’t stop because he’s so fucking deranged. He will fuck his tongue deeper into your walls like his life depends on it.

He laps at your nectar, the most disturbing fact about him is that he doesn’t even care if you’re clean or not. because to him you’re always so clean so fuckin perfect.

He can and will eat you out for hours, nibbles at your sensitive clit so harshly but it only sends jolts of pleasure through your burning body.���

Yandere man who could DIE between your legs, his mouth on your cunt, sucking and lapping, who sighs into your heat like he’s found water after being thirsty.

Yandere man who will always make the most unholiest, nasty dirty noises like “mhmm— nghhh ohhh fuck, yn..”

yandere man who will force your legs apart to dive deeper into your pussy and continue to eat you out.

Yandere man who say the most obscene bullshit while making your legs quiver and at the same time he will praise the fuck outta you.

“Y-Yn you are the most beautiful woman ever. I fuckin love you so much. Goodness this pussy is heaven. You got heaven between your legs baby.”

Yandere man who would rather die between your legs, than actually stop.

[kokii-omii]

Some pre boss rush bonding time

[veebeeboo109]

Early mornings…. 🐦‍⬛✨🍎☃️🐠

(Would I be able to sleep like this? No. Is it nice to imagine?? Yes.)

[chalkrub]

some of the head coms from recently <:^) indefinitely still open for these !

[xylusbible]

canonically obsessed loser caleb x afab reader

💫 word count: 1.8k

💫 content warning: 18+ MDNI, pwp, smut, cunnilingus, strength kink, caleb’s big muscly arms (BARK!)

💫 xybb notes: hihi ! i wrote this at 2am specifically because of caleb’s dialogue after massaging his shoulder or arm in interaction mode - “(talking about his arms or shoulders) they can bare more weight than you’d think” idk if it was an innuendo, but i sure took it as one ! hope you enjoy :3 (also i’m very gay and usually write queer pairing ships, so i haven’t written hetero smut in YEARS so bare with me. if this is horrible i’m so sorry ;-;)

[orange & mdni dividers by @cafekitsune), moon divider by @enchanthings, caleb banner by me]

caleb seems to have some sort of obsession with holding you in his arms. any chance he gets, he has his hands around your waist, tugging you closer, or pulling you into his lap to cuddle you close while you’re watching a movie together. and at the end of the movie when you inevitably fall asleep as usual, he loves getting to pick you up princess style and carry you to bed.

another thing he seems to have an obsession with is your legs and specifically, your thighs. he loves to hold them in is hands, massage them over his lap, have them wrapped around his head..

you don’t mind any of it one bit, because if there’s one thing you seem to have an obsession with, it’s caleb’s arms. he works out almost every day and weight training is a part of his regular routine. you love to ogle the slight veins that bulge out around his biceps and hold onto them whenever you get the chance.

today, he comes back from the gym while you’re in the kitchen eating a snack. he drops his gym bag on the floor by the front door, before making his way over to you. he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and pulls you towards his chest, before leaning down to kiss your temple.

“welcome back, colonel,” you tease as you set down your food to hold his arms around you.

“hey there, pipsqueak. get up to anything interesting while i was gone?” he asks in return, a soft smile on his face.

you shake your head. “nothing interesting. just watched some tv and made a snack.” he hums in acknowledgement.

you move to turn around in his arms so that you’re facing him, and take the chance to place your hands on his slightly swollen biceps.

“how was your workout?” you ask as you run your fingers along a vein near the inside of his right elbow. he lets out a soft laugh at your obvious admiration.

“good as usual. i’m sure you can tell, but i worked on arms today,” he says with a slight smirk.

“i could definitely tell,” you say with pursed lips, as you squeeze at his arms a little.

“how much is it that you can bench press again?” you ask cheekily.

“275,” he says proudly, flexing slightly under the light touch of your fingers. you hum happily in approval.

“that’s why you love to lift me up as if i’m as light a feather,” you say, biting your bottom lip a bit as you look up at him. he nods and tightens his grip on your waist a bit.

“it gets easier every time. wanna see?” he asks. before you can respond, he’s moving his hands down to your thighs and lifting you up quickly, easily. you let out a small yelp of surprise as he places you legs over his shoulders, and walks you both over to the nearest wall.

“caleb!” you scold, not loving the height that he’s holding you up to. thank the gods you have high ceilings in your apartment. but even though you’re annoyed, you can’t help but be a bit turned on by how easy it was for him to place you in this position. these days, lifting you up was a regular occurrence for him, and you never had too many complaints about it.

he smiles up at you from between your legs.

“see?” he says. you’re only wearing a long t-shirt and underwear, so as he says it, you can feel the slight wind of his breath on your inner thighs and you can’t help but squirm a bit in his hold. luckily, his hold on you stays firm and confident.

“okay i get it, you’re so cool and strong, babe. now please, let me down,” you say.

“i would, but you just look so good from this angle, pipsqueak,” he says.

you blush, knowing that he’s not seeing much but the lining of your underwear.

“you can see me from this angle closer to the ground,” you whine. he laughs, sending a slight shiver up your body as his breath tickles your thighs again. he finally decides to give you some mercy and walks back over to the kitchen, so he can set you down on the counter.

you sigh in relief and move to slide off the counter, but caleb stops you with his hands.

“ah, ah, ah.. i moved you closer to the ground, but i wasn’t finished enjoying the view,” he says before getting down on his knees in front of you, his hands moving from your waist to your thighs. he moves to spread them apart, and you let out a shaky breath.

“i could see the wetness starting to seep through your panties, love,” he says, and you let out a small groan of embarrassment. he chuckles softly before holding eye contact with you as he moves his face forward and starts to lightly kiss at your thighs.

you let out a quiet gasp as his thumbs dig in a little deeper into your skin.

“you had your snack.. can i have mine?” he asks with a teasing smile. you roll your eyes at the stupid joke, but nod anyways, knowing you’d never turn the opportunity down.

“nice,” he says, like a complete loser before he moves his hands up again to place on the waistband of your underwear. you lift your hips up slightly so he’s able to tug them down and off. once they’re tossed over his shoulder, he moves back in between your legs, moving his hands back to your thighs and hooking them over his shoulders once again as he places his head right in front of your cunt.

he waits for a few seconds, as if he’s committing the view to memory (like he hasn’t seen it hundreds of times now..) and you hold your breath in anticipation before he finally moves his face forward to kiss at your lips. you let out a harsher gasp this time, moving your hand to thread in his hair.

“i haven’t even done anything yet, and you’re already this reactive,” he teases. you tighten your hand in his hair in annoyance and he lets out a huff of a laugh before finally diving in completely, kissing at your clit this time. you let out a moan easily, relieved to feel the full pressure of his lips up against you. he uses his tongue to lick a path from your hole back to your clit and you tilt your head back at the feeling.

(caleb’s always been good at giving head, considering he seems to enjoy it just as much or sometimes even more than you do.)

he starts to eat you out with pure vigor, licking at your clit like an overeager dog, before circling his tongue around and inside your hole. you moan loudly, happy to be devoured by the man you love the most. he takes his time with you, rubbing circles into your thighs with his thumbs and plunging his tongue into you as far as he can go.

he eventually uses his evol to move your back down onto the counter so he can pull your hips forward and get even deeper. you clench his hair in your fist and let out a wail, breathing out harshly as he takes you apart piece by piece. he spreads you open wider and moves one hand from your thigh to where his mouth is, gathering some of your slick with his middle and ring finger before moving his tongue back up to your clit and plunging his two fingers into you easily. you thrash in his hold.

“oh my god.. caleb!” you moan out loudly, not able to control the volume of your voice when you’re feeling this good.

he flexes his tongue to make it firmer as he uses the tip to flit back and forth over your clit while he scissors his thick, long fingers inside of you. you shake in his grip, moaning in staccato as you’re not able to handle the influx of pleasure.

“fuck caleb, please” you moan out, not even sure what you’re begging for.

he moves his face back a bit but continues using his fingers.

“what are you begging for, princess? aren’t i already giving you everything?” he asks mockingly.

you whine out.

“w-wanna cum, caleb, please,” you moan out helplessly.

“you sure? it hasn’t been that long.. you know i could do this for hours,” he teases.

“please, caleb, please,” you beg as he curls his fingers upward to stroke along your g-spot. you choke on air at the feeling.

“okay fine, since you’re asking so nicely,” he says, before moving his face forward once again.

he gives it his absolute all this time. not willing to stop till you reach your climax like you asked. instead of just licking and tonguing at your clit, he sucks. slurps like it’s his favorite meal, like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

tears well up in your eyes as you get closer to your climax. you can’t help but repeat his name over and over again like an omen, and it only fuels him to work harder. the grip he has on your thigh is bruising as he thrusts his fingers into you faster, while absolutely devouring your clit.

your voice gets softer and softer, barely being able to speak anymore as you reach your peak. he presses the tips of his fingers against your g-spot firmly one more time before you’re letting out a strained scream as you cum hard. his pace slows as he continues to stoke and lick you through it, until your thrashing and squirming away from his hold from overstimulation. he gets the hint after a minute and slowly slides his now soaked fingers out of you, and lays one last kiss on your clit before pulling back completely. he stands up from the ground and smiles at the sight of you—a limp puddle on the counter, panting heavily. you look up at him and make eye contact right as he lifts his 2 fingers to his mouth, and sucks your slick off of them before bringing them back out of his mouth with a pop! and using the back of his hand to wipe off his mouth.

“delicious, thanks for the meal,” he says cheekily, wiping his hand on his shirt.

you groan in annoyance. (because seriously, how can someone this hot be such a loser?)

[art-soboro]

girl scout

[gattapotatta]

Do you want it, kitten? I hope your answer is still yes.. because I just can't hold back anymore

Asking for concent 3 times in a row as if this desperate man literally couldn't believe this is actually happening to him.. wow.

The aftercare he is giving is the most soft and loving thing in the world and it doesn't even depend on how rough or not the deed was done.

Night of Secrecy got me thinking///

[whenstarsundress]

🖤 control kink, absolutely. caleb needs to dominate. not in a loud, aggressive way. but in a quiet, terrifying, no questions asked way. his voice alone can have you breathless. “open your legs. now.” that’s all it takes.

🖤 glove kink. those tactical gloves? he wears them when he’s rough with you. pinned down with gloved hands around your throat or gripping your thighs while he moves slow, intentional. he knows exactly what it does to you.

🖤 emotionless face while fucking you stupid. he looks completely calm, even while you’re crying from overstimulation. the only thing that gives him away is how tightly he’s gripping the sheets around you or the way he mutters, “mine.”

🖤 breath control & possessive whispers. he’ll press his hand over your mouth and lean down, dark eyes burning. “too loud. you want someone else to hear you? you’re mine. you’re mine. nod if you understood.”

🖤 rough, but reverent. caleb is never careless. he handles your body like a weapon he’s trained with for years. rough enough to bruise, but with terrifying precision. he knows where to bite, where to suck, how to make you beg without a single wasted movement.

🖤 silent praise. he doesn’t moan. he growls low, or breathes your name like a curse. “look at me. you’re doing so well.” his praise is rare, but when you earn it, it hits like a bullet to the heart.

🖤 loves when you cry for him. not out of pain, but out of need. if you’re trembling and sobbing from how good it feels, he’ll kiss your wet cheeks and whisper, “can’t take it? you will. i’ll help you.”

🖤 knife or gunplay fantasy. he’s never used them on you, but the idea of having you naked in his lap while he cleans his weapon? holy fuck. he watches you squirm, whispering, “stay still, sweetheart. or i’ll have to tie you up.”

🖤 unspoken aftercare. he doesn’t say, “are you okay?” he says, “breathe.” and then he tucks you into his chest and watches over you like a fortress. you’re safe, even when you’re ruined.

🖤 protective sex. when you’ve had a bad day, when he almost lost you, when you look at him like he’s the only thing that makes sense—he fucks you like it’s the last time. desperate. brutal. almost emotional.

[afrognamedsparrow]

Ouuuh samurai dragon ooouhhh