You know Tara and Simone will rip you to shreds about this for the rest of your life.
Outside the Hunter's Association stands two men, both with a bouquet of flowers in their hand. One is a taller, older gentlemen who is adjusting the sleeves on his jacket. The leather reflects off the warm streetlights, his bike shimmering behind him.
Zayne eyes the man parked beside him. He's oddly handsome, making Zayne readjust his tie. But something about him is off. He exudes a bad aura, as if there is something wrong with him. He notices the man taking side glances at him, but Zayne doesn't react. He looks down at his watch, counting down the seconds until you get off work. Before he can put his wrist down, he hears you call out to him.
"Zayne! Hey, sorry to make you wait—" You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on the man parked beside Zayne. Your eyes flicker between the both of them with a worried expression on your face. The older man finally speaks up,
"Zayne?" He raises a brow, pushing himself off his bike. Zayne watches as he steps towards you. Zayne follows in suit, seeing you frantically check your phone.
There's no way you could have gotten the dates wrong right?! You knew you had two dates on a Friday coming up soon, but you didn't realize you said yes to the same Friday.
At the same time.
You awkwardly look up from your phone, seeing the two men looking down at you. Sheepishly you smile, rubbing the back of your neck.
"I didn't realize you were seeing other people." Zayne says plainly, taking a closer step to you. He isn't upset, maybe a little jealous, but it's not as if the two of you were exclusive. Sylus feels the same, though he loops an arm around your shoulders. He slips off your bag from your left shoulder, hooking it onto his fingers.
"Neither did I, sweetie." Sylus chuckles, looking at you. You glance between the two, unsure how to navigate this situation. The most you can muster up is an awkward chuckle.
How do you go about explaining this?
The two of them sit opposite of you, taking turns to flip the meat. It sizzles over the rack, the heat charring and cooking it through. Neither of them have said a word to each other, only attending to your needs. That is until Sylus breaks the ice,
"A cardiologist, yes?" He asks Zayne, refilling the younger man's cup with water.
"Head cardiologist." Zayne remarks, placing another piece of meat onto your plate. His voice softens as he speaks to you, "Careful. It's hot."
"But you are one, nonetheless?" Sylus takes a sip of his own water, placing a few side dishes onto your plate. The awkwardness is killing you. You take sheepish glances between the two. You guiltily chew on your food, watching their expressions.
"I'm sorry." You blurt out. They hear your quiet voice, despite the business of the restaurant. Sylus cocks a brow, leaning back in his seat. The condensation on his glass dips onto the table, soaking the surrounding area.
"What are you apologizing for, sweetie? I'm always up to make new friends." Sylus remarks, putting an arm around Zayne's chair. Zayne glances to the man beside him, letting a soft sigh escape his lips. Zayne leans forward, flipping the meat. He takes a small side dish, places a few pieces onto your plate.
"I just— I don't know. Isn't this awkward?" You lean forward on your elbows, brows knitted. Zayne hums, shrugging his shoulders. Sylus smiles in return, leaning forward as well. You stares at Zayne from the side, still smiling.
"Perhaps I would be more upset if you chose a less handsome man." Sylus fiddles with the ends of Zayne's hair. Zayne doesn't push him away, giving him a quick odd glance. If you looked close enough, you would probably be able to see the tips of the doctor's ears twinging pink.
You stare between the two, eyes flicking to each of their expressions. Zayne lets a sigh slip once more, placing a piece of skewered meat onto Sylus's plate silently.
"You are paying, yes?" Zayne asks Sylus, staring at him with a plain expression. Sylus's brows raise, but soon is replaced with a smug smile.
You’re not even really sure what happened. You’re having a good time, you are. It feels good, and you normally like this position.
So why do you feel so…dirty?
He notices your change in demeanour, the way your moans cease and you go quiet. He stops, pulling out slowly and reaching for you. You resist for a moment, not wanting him to see you crying.
“What’s wrong?” He sounds so worried about you. It’s his nature, to worry.
“Nothing I-I’m fine. We can keep going.” You sniffle, and his decision becomes firm. His arms come around you, pulling you into his lap and hugging you.
“We’re done, okay? Does anything hurt?” The tears are rushing out now, and you have to swallow your sobs to answer.
“N-no. I-I’m fine really I don’t-I don’t know what happened.” You don’t need to go into detail. Zayne hums in understanding, cool hand stroking your heated skin as he holds you closer.
“It’s okay. Let it out.” He presses a kiss to your head as you sink into his embrace, sobbing.
When you begin to calm down, he helps you sip some water, wrapping the blanket around you. Zayne doesn’t let you apologize, not for this, but you don’t let him say it either. It’s no one’s fault, the two of you agree.
you’re working a terrible job as a waitress, with an even worse boss but lucky for you, your knight in shining armor won’t just stand by and watch you work yourself to the bone!
warnings: comfort, super self-indulgent
[Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb]
XAVIER
The neon sign outside the restaurant flickered like it was on its last breath, same as you felt most nights. Six p.m. to whenever the boss decided the last drunk straggler had spent enough. Tonight it was pushing 4:12 a.m. and the place smelled like old fryer oil and regret. Your feet ached so badly you’d stopped feeling them hours ago. You just kept moving, tray balanced, smile stapled on, because arguing with your boss never ended well.
He was already red-faced behind the bar, barking at the line cook over a ticket that had been up for forty seconds. When you set down the last round for table seven, he snapped without looking at you.
“You’re slow tonight. Table five has been waiting on their check for ten minutes. What, you think tips grow on trees?”
You mumbled an apology and turned away before he could see the way your hands shook. Doormat. That’s what the other girls called you behind your back, but they at least had the sense to call out when he crossed lines. You just took it. Rent was due. Student loans didn’t care that your boss was a tyrant.
The bell above the door chimed softly. Even at this hour, someone was still coming in. You didn’t look up right away, too busy wiping down the sticky counter but you felt the shift in the room. The low murmur of the remaining customers quieted. When you finally glanced over, Xavier was sliding into a booth near the window like he owned the place. He had his signature white hoodie on, and his hair was messy, his eyes were already scanning until they landed on you. He gave you a small smile that always made your chest feel lighter.
You grabbed a menu and headed over, legs protesting every step.
“Hey,” you said softly, setting the menu down. “We’re technically closed, but… I can get you something quick if you want.”
Xavier tilted his head, studying the dark circles under your eyes. “You look exhausted. How long have you been here?”
“Since six.” You didn’t add the part about yesterday’s shift ending at 3:30. He’d only worry.
Before he could reply, your bosses voice cut across the room like a whip. “Hey! No loitering. If you’re not ordering, get out. We’re not a shelter.”
Xavier didn’t even flinch. He turned that serene expression toward your boss and stood up with the kind of graceful calm that made everything else in the room feel clumsy. “Actually, I’d like to speak with the manager on duty.”
“I am the manager,” he sneered. “And we’re closing.”
“Perfect timing then.” Xavier’s voice stayed gentle, almost friendly. “I noticed your signage outside says last call at 2 am. and kitchen closes at midnight. Yet it’s past four and your staff is still serving. Do you have special licensing for that? Or are you operating under an extension I should know about for my report?”
Your boss blinked. “What report?”
Xavier pulled out his phone like he was checking notes. “I used to work hospitality, a long time ago. Health code compliance, labor laws, overtime tracking. Fascinating stuff. For example, how do you calculate overtime for your servers when shifts regularly exceed twelve hours? Do you use the fluctuating workweek method? Or straight time-and-a-half? I’m just curious.”
You watched your boss’s face cycle through confusion, then irritation, then the first flicker of unease. He clearly wasn’t used to being questioned. He was used to yelling until people folded.
“I don’t have to explain my business to some kid-”
“Kid?” Xavier smiled, soft and disarming. “That’s flattering. Mind if I ask about your wage theft complaints? There were a few on the review sites. Former employees mentioned tips being pooled incorrectly. Also, forcing staff to stay past posted hours without compensation. Interesting pattern.”
He kept going, polite as ever, asking about break compliance, mandatory overtime notice, whether the restaurant had updated its emergency evacuation plan since the last inspection. Each question landed heavier. Your boss knew some answers. Most he didn’t. Every time he blustered, Xavier just nodded thoughtfully and followed up with another perfectly professional inquiry that made it clear exactly how little the man actually knew about running his own place.
You stood there frozen, tray clutched to your chest, watching the dynamic flip in real time. For once, someone was making him sweat instead of the other way around.
Eventually Xavier glanced back at you. “You’ve worked a double today, right? More than a double, actually. You should go home.”
“She’s not going anywhere until the last customer leaves,” he cut in.
Xavier’s eyes cooled, but his tone stayed even. “The last customer is me. And I’m leaving. With her. Unless you’d prefer I file that formal complaint tonight. I know people at the labor board. They’re old friends.”
The silence stretched. Your bosses jaw worked. Finally he jerked his chin toward the back. “Clock out. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You didn’t argue. You just grabbed your bag, legs trembling with relief and exhaustion. Xavier waited by the door, holding it open like it was the most natural thing in the world. Outside, the cold air hit your face and you nearly cried from how good it felt to be done.
He walked you to his car, one hand lightly at your back. “You don’t have to go back there,” he said quietly once you were inside, engine humming.
“I need the money, Xavier.”
“I know. But there are other places. Better ones.” He reached over and brushed a stray hair from your face. “Why don’t you try helping Jeremiah out at Philo?”
You leaned your head against the seat, eyes already drifting shut. For the first time in months, you believed you might actually sleep through the night.
ZAYNE
Dr. Zayne Li did not belong in a dive like bar you worked at 3:47 a.m. Yet there he was, sitting at the counter in his dark coat, looking like he’d stepped out of an otome game and into your personal hell. You poured his coffee with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling after your bosses latest screaming match in the kitchen. Something about a wrong order. Something about how you were costing him money.
Zayne watched you the whole time, green eyes sharp behind his glasses.
“You’re pale,” he said when you set the mug down. “Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch.” Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.
Before you could elaborate, your boss stormed out from the back. “What the hell is this? You chatting up customers now? Get back to work, table nine wants another round.”
“They’ve had six,” you murmured. “And we’re supposed to be closed.”
“I decide when we close!” his voice rose. “Not some waitress who can’t handle a rush.”
Zayne set his coffee down quietly. “Excuse me. You’re the owner?”
Your boss sized him up. “Yeah. Problem?”
“Several.” Zayne’s tone was calm. The same voice he used when telling Pie to quit doing something. “First, your employee has mentioned she’s a university student. Forcing her to stay until nearly four am. on a weeknight violates both labor regulations for students and basic duty of care. Second, the posted hours on your door and website do not match your actual operations. That’s misleading advertising at best, potential licensing issues at worst.”
Your boss laughed, but it sounded forced. “Who the hell are you, her lawyer?”
“Her partner. And a physician who understands fatigue related health risks. She’s exhibiting clear signs of chronic sleep deprivation and stress. Continuing this way will lead to medical consequences I will document if necessary.”
You wanted to sink into the floor. Part of you was mortified. The other part, the exhausted, beaten down part, felt something dangerously close to hope.
Zayne continued, voice never rising. “I’ve already taken photos of the time. I’ve noted the lack of proper breaks. If you insist on keeping her here tonight, I’ll be contacting the labor department first thing in the morning, followed by the health inspector. It’s your choice.”
Your boss stared at him. Zayne stared back, unflinching. The doctor who performed delicate cardiac surgeries versus a man who yelled at waitstaff for sport. It wasn’t even close.
“Fine,” he spat. “Get your stuff and get out. But don’t think you’re getting any shifts next week.”
Zayne stood, towering over your boss without trying. “She won’t need them. There are campus positions that respect student schedules. Or hospital admin roles. Places that don’t treat people like disposable labor.”
He guided you out with a hand at the small of your back, steady and warm. In the car he cranked the heat and handed you a protein bar from his glove compartment like he’d planned for this.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.
“Yes, I did.” He reached over and squeezed your hand. “No one gets to exploit you. Not while I’m here. Let’s get you home and to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll look at better options together. And if he tries anything, you have my number. Actually, you have my lawyer’s number, too.”
You laughed weakly, the sound cracking. For the first time in ages, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.
RAFAYEL
The door had barely closed behind the last customer when Rafayel walked in. The few remaining staff did double takes. Your boss nearly tripped over himself rushing forward.
“Mr. Qi! What an honor. We’re technically closed, but for you, anything. Sit wherever you like. Best table in the house.”
Rafayel smiled that charming, slightly threatening smile and scanned the room until he found you wiping down a high top with heavy, exhausted arms. “I’ll sit wherever she’s serving.”
Your bosses expression faltered for half a second before the salesman mask snapped back on. He actually shoved you lightly toward the table. “You heard him. Move it. And smile, for God’s sake. This is Rafayel Qi.”
You forced the smile and approached, notepad trembling in your fingers. Rafayel’s eyes softened when they met yours, but the smile he gave your boss was pure performance.
“Water for me, cutie,” he said to you, voice honeyed. Then, louder, to your boss: “And whatever she wants. She looks like she hasn’t sat down in hours. Rough night?”
Your boss laughed too loud. “She’s fine. These kids today can’t handle real work. Always complaining. But she’s one of my best, right? Real team player. Even when she screws up the orders, she stays late to fix it.”
Rafayel’s eyebrow arched. “Screws up? I’ve seen her artwork. Her attention to detail is impeccable. Strange that she’d be incompetent here.”
You wanted the floor to swallow you. Your boss kept digging his own grave, oblivious. “Ah, you know how it is with pretty girls. They get distracted. Especially when important people come in.” He winked at Rafayel like they were sharing a joke at your expense.
That was the moment something in you cracked.
Rafayel noticed. Of course he did. His smile never wavered, but his eyes went sharp.
He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “You know, I’ve been thinking about doing a series on modern exploitation. The quiet violence of minimum wage service work. Overworked bodies, stolen wages, bosses who mistake fear for loyalty. It’s very… visceral. I might need a consultant. Someone who’s lived it.”
Your boss preened. “I could give you the inside scoop-“
“No, I think she’d be perfect,” Rafayel cut in smoothly. “She has the soul for it. You, on the other hand… well. Your establishment has such a charming reputation online. All those one star reviews about verbal abuse. Very authentic for the piece.”
The color drained from his face as the implication landed. Rafayel kept talking, light and pleasant, about how he could make or break a small business with a single post. About how his fans loved a good scandal. About how he’d hate for this place to become a case study in toxic management.
By the end, your boss was practically bowing, promising you the week off with pay, offering comped meals, anything. Rafayel waved it all away.
“She quits. Effective immediately. And I suggest you treat the rest of your staff with a little more respect. Or I might get inspired to paint something very specific about this charming little hellhole.”
He stood, offered you his arm like a prince in a storybook, and walked you out. Outside, he pulled you into a hug that smelled like expensive cologne and safety.
“You’re done there,” he murmured against your hair. “I’ll help you find something better. Something that doesn’t crush your spirit. My studio always needs assistants who actually understand beauty.”
You clung to him, tears finally spilling. He let you cry, rubbing slow circles on your back until the shaking stopped.
SYLUS
Sylus took one look at you balancing three trays at once while your boss screamed about a spilled drink and decided the night was over.
He sat down at the worst table in the place, the one with the wobbly leg no one wanted and crooked a finger at you. When you approached, he simply pulled out the chair beside him.
“Sit.”
“I can’t. I’m working-”
“Sit, kitten.” His voice was low, commanding in that way that made your knees weak. “Now.”
You sat. The relief in your feet was almost painful. Sylus flagged down another server, ordered food and drinks, and told them to put it on his tab. When your boss came storming over, Sylus didn’t even look up at first.
“She’s on break,” he said calmly.
“She doesn’t get breaks right now-“
Sylus finally lifted his gaze. Red eyes, sharp as knives. “She does tonight. In fact, she’s done working while I’m here. Bring her water. And something to eat that isn’t from your sad little kitchen.”
Your boss opened his mouth. Sylus smiled the kind of smile that made smart people reconsider their life choices. “Unless you’d like me to have a conversation with the people who own this building. I know the landlord. Be a shame if rent suddenly tripled.”
You ate while Sylus watched, making sure you finished every bite. He kept the conversation light, teasing you about your stubborn independence, telling you stories that made you laugh despite everything. When you were done, he stood and walked straight over to your boss.
The conversation was short. You couldn’t hear most of it, but you saw your boss go pale. Sylus returned, jacket in hand, and draped it over your shoulders.
“Time to go home.”
In the car, the city lights blurred past. You leaned your head against the window.
“I can’t just quit, Sylus. I need-“
“You need a job that doesn’t treat you like garbage. Elysium has openings. Or any of my legitimate businesses. You want to make your own money? Fine. But not at the cost of your health. Find something better, or I’ll find it for you. And before you argue about money, they won’t be handouts. Just better opportunities. Deal?”
You looked at him and something warm spread through your chest. The crime lord who could’ve burned the place down but chose to do things your way instead.
“Deal,” you whispered.
He took your hand and didn’t let go the whole drive home.
CALEB
The girls at the bar noticed Caleb the second he walked in. Tall, easy grin, that boy-next-door charm wrapped around something sharper. They flirted shamelessly, batting lashes, leaning over the counter. Caleb smiled politely, but his eyes tracked only you. Every time you passed his table, he found a way to make your job lighter. Passing you clean silverware before you asked. Quietly clearing plates when your boss wasn’t looking. Slipping extra tips under his glass with a wink.
But when your boss started in on you again, loud, public, accusing you of “disrespect” for not refilling a water fast enough, Caleb’s easy demeanor vanished.
He stood up, sizing your boss up.
“Got a problem with how she’s doing her job?” Caleb asked, voice deceptively calm.
Your boss puffed up. “This doesn’t concern you, buddy.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Caleb stepped closer. he carried himself like someone who’d faced worse than a shitty bar owner. “It concerns me a lot when someone talks to my girl like that. Especially when she’s been on her feet for ten hours straight while you sit in the back doing nothing.”
You could feel the eyes of the other patrons zoning in on the scene. Conversations quieted down. Even the drunk customers were paying attention.
Caleb kept going, low and steady. “You’ve got cameras, right? Good. Wouldn’t want any misunderstandings when I file that complaint tomorrow. Verbal abuse, wage theft, unsafe hours. Health inspectors love tips from military folks.”
Your boss tried to come up with something to say. Caleb just smiled, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Or we can handle this like adults. You treat her and the rest of your staff with respect for the remainder of her time here. She quits when she’s ready, not when you force her out. And if I hear one more raised voice at her tonight, we’re going to have a different kind of conversation outside.”
Your boss backed down. Grudgingly. But he backed down.
For the rest of the night, something shifted. Caleb stayed until close, actual close, not your bosses version. He helped you clean your section when the boss wasn’t looking. Walked you to your car. Leaned against the door while you unlocked it.
“You don’t have to keep doing this,” he said softly. “There are better jobs. You’re smart, capable, kind. Don’t let him convince you that you deserve this shit.”
You looked up at him, exhausted but seen. Really seen.
“I know,” you admitted. “I’m just… scared to leave.”
Caleb pulled you into a hug, chin resting on your head. “Then be scared with me standing next to you. We’ll find something new together.”
For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel quite so heavy.
6. Forehead kisses with Caleb while he pumps you full of his cum.
Check out the rest of my Horny thoughts list here.
Everything about this restaurant gleamed under soft golden lights, from the polished silverware to the spotless wine glasses on the table. The portions were small enough that Caleb spent most of dinner complaining about them.
"I'm serious," he said, eyeing the plate in front of him. "This can't be the entire meal. I've seen larger appetizers at gas stations."
"Baby, you already finished the bread basket."
Caleb shot you an offended look before cutting into his steak again. He'd finally stopped grumbling about the menu and settled into actually eating, looking far more relaxed than he had when you'd first arrived. His tie was loosened slightly, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and for the first time all evening he seemed content to sit back and enjoy himself.
Which, in hindsight, was probably why your timing was so terrible.
You watched him take another bite before the thought that had been circling your head for weeks slipped out before you could overthink it.
"I want to stop using condoms."
His reaction was immediate.
The fork slipped from his hand and struck the edge of his plate with a loud metallic clang. A streak of dark sauce splattered across the front of his shirt as he coughed violently.
A waiter froze halfway across the room.
An elderly woman nearby nearly choked on her wine.
For a few horrible seconds, the only sound in the restaurant was Caleb trying not to die.
You covered your face. "Oh my God."
"Would you like to repeat that?"
"Maybe after you recover."
Caleb looked down at the stain spreading across his expensive shirt and then back at you, disbelief written all over his face.
"Do you know how many opportunities you had to bring this up today?"
"No?"
"There was breakfast," he continued. "There was lunch. There was the drive here. There was the entire first half of dinner, and you waited until I had my mouth full of food?."
"I didn't plan it."
"You looked across this table, saw me actively chewing, and thought, yes, this seems like the ideal moment for a life changing conversation."
The more serious he tried to sound, the harder it became not to laugh. His composure wasn't holding up much better, a faint flush had climbed all the way to the tips of his ears, and every time he glanced at you it got worse.
"You're serious." It wasn't a question.
You nodded.
"You've thought about it."
"A lot."
His shoulders eased and something in his expression softened so completely it made your chest ache.
"This is embarrassing to admit now, but I actually had a whole conversation planned for this."
Your eyes widened. "A conversation?"
"A very good one. It had structure..."
"Oh no."
"It had bullet points."
You burst out laughing while he groaned and dropped his head into one hand. "Don't laugh."
"You made bullet points?"
His smile finally broke through and the sight of it made your laughter fade into something gentler.
"You're telling me you see a future with me and that's more than enough for me right now"
Silence stretched comfortably between you until a waiter appeared beside the table carrying a clean napkin.
The man glanced at Caleb's stained shirt, then at the two of you holding hands, clearly unsure of what he'd interrupted.
"Sir," he said cautiously, "would you like some assistance with the stain?"
Caleb looked down at the mess on his shirt again, looked back at you, and let out a long sigh.
"Do you have anything for emotional shock?"
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
Caleb was the kind of man who brought home the exact chocolates you liked from the store near the station, who tucked your stray hairs behind your ear with a thumb so gentle it felt like an apology. He loved you with the cleanest, lightest parts of his soul.
But that Caleb stayed outside when your front door thudded shut behind you.
The man who moved you against the wall was heavier. Darker. His hands locked onto your hips with bruising leverage that shoved your lower back flush against the plaster. His breathing was uneven, smelling of the dry red wine he’d barely touched before you threw that sentence across the restaurant table.
"You don't get to say things like that out there" your knees shook, the silk of your dress bunching up around your thighs as his fingers tore at the fabric "You don't get to put those images in my head while I'm trapped in a room full of strangers and then expect me to hold back." you were trembling, and he looked down at the tremor in your thighs with cold satisfaction. A quieter shadow had taken him over—the part of him that didn't know how to possess you without wanting to ruin you. He’d been holding that part back for years, keeping it chained behind soft words and careful boundaries.
Now, the chain was gone.
He dropped his trousers, hooked his forearm under your left knee, hoisting your leg high over his hip, and drove himself inside you.
The entry was dry enough to sting, a stretching heat that caught the breath in your throat. You let out a small, fractured sound, your fingers clawing at the rough wool of his jacket, looking for the Caleb who always asked if you were okay.
This version didn't ask. He gripped the back of your skull, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold your head still, and buried his mouth over yours to catch the noises you were making. He tasted like wine and years of starvation.
His hips slammed forward in a brutal rhythm that used the wall behind you as support. Every time he went deep, the heel of his palm pressed harder into your hip bone, keeping you pinned, making sure you took the full length of his cock.
"Look at you," he rasped against your lips, his teeth grazing the tip of your tongue before he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes. "Taking my cock so well"
He lifted your other leg until you were entirely dependent on his strength to stay off the floor. The tip of his dick, in one unyielding thrust that went past the usual limits, pushed hard against your cervix.
"Caleb—wait," you cried out, your fingers tearing two buttons from his shirt as your head banged lightly against the plaster. " 'S too deep, baby. Ah, god..."
"How do you expect me to breed this tight little pussy, uh?" he leaned his full weight into you, pinning you immovably against the wall as his breath came hot against your ear. "I need to reach that spot so it takes."
To prove his point, he withdrew slowly, leaving you empty before bottoming out inside you again, harder this time. "Take it," he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck where he bit the soft skin over your collarbone. "Stay right here and take it."
He was turning your thighs into a collection of dark, finger shaped bruises as his control fractured under the tight clenches of your body.
The weight of his body, combined with the deep thrusts of his cock against your womb, broke something open inside you. Your walls spasmed, clamping down on him with an involuntary tightness.
That tight clench broke him. He let out a ragged groan, thrusting into you so hard the frame of the hallway mirror rattled. His whole body going rigid as he started to come.
But while his lower body held you trapped his hands softened. His fingers moved to cradle your face and he pressed his lips to your forehead.
The kiss was remarkably soft, tender and lingering— just the way he kissed you when you wake up on Sunday mornings. Below your waist, he was ruining you, his cock twitching and pumping you full of his cum. Against your skin, his lips were gentle, brushing over your damp hairline while he whispered "You're going to hold every single drop of me inside you tonight..."
He pressed another soft kiss between your eyebrows, his chest heaving as the final pulses shuddered through him "Think I can get you pregnant by morning?"
zayne had a rough day at work—so many patients, too much paperwork, an excruciating surgery in between—he was absolutely beat. so when he trudges through the door with his tie loosened and very prominent bags under his eyes on his otherwise perfect skin, you tell him to go sit on the couch and relax while you finish whipping up dinner.
he wants nothing more than to shower the day off of him and crawl into bed with his wife, but you insist he needs to eat—the same way he would if it were you in his shoes. and because he can’t resist you—especially when you’re wearing a cute little apron—he begrudgingly obliges, letting his bag hit the ground and slumping on the couch, a single button on his crisp shirt unbuttoned showing off a beautiful sliver of skin.
he throws his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose, thinking of anything to take his mind off his grueling work, and he’s successful when his mind finally lands back on you. his sweet, sweet wife.
he tries to keep his thoughts innocent… tries not to think about you in your little apron looking like you came straight out of a male fantasy. tries not to think about all the things he could do to you. tries so hard not to think about how you could take care of his cock—the very same that’s growing harder and harder in his confined slacks.
he’s tired—can barely move, and yet, he still calls you to him.
“sweetheart,” his voice gruff, carrying a slight rasp as he beckons you. “c’mere please.”
a frown etches itself on your face, walking your way to him from the kitchen. “baby, ‘m almost done with din–”
you don’t get the chance to finish your complaint when he’s pulling you by the arm into his lap. a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sudden movement. then you’re settled, straddling the large expanse of his lap and you feel it.
he wraps his arms around your body, flushing you against his chest. his lips press against the shell of your ear and he whispers, “don’t care about dinner, just let me hold my wife, yeah?”
he swears it’s all he needs—to hold you close and inhale your scent—but his pulse is racing and blood roars in his ears all due to sheer desire and he can’t stop himself from shifting his hips the slightest bit.
you feel that, too. it elicits a sharp gasp.
you can almost hear the small smirk forming on his lips, “how was your day, beautiful?” he murmurs, hands moving to your hips.
and his movements are so calculated. from the way he ever so gently grounds you into him to the way his breath fans against your ear sending shivers down your spine.
“was fine…” you mumble, unable to stop the way you shift in his lap, body begging for more attention. “missed you.”
“yeah?” he asks, his voice is low and nearly unrecognizable. “missed you s’much more, my love. been waiting for this moment all day.”
you pull back slightly to look into his eyes. they’re tired. exhausted even, but they still hold that fire. that pure, burning desire. they’re his fuck me eyes. and, god, do you love them.
“zaynie,” you whisper, unable to trust your shaky voice.
he hums, and the soft, pitched noise has you leaking through your bottom, probably leaving a wet patch right on his pants. “tell me, sweetheart.” his hands squeeze at your sides and his hips slowly, but surely, roll into you. "what did you do today?"
you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing. "mmph, not much…" another roll, evoking another wet gasp. "fuck, just… cleaned, w-went on a walk—" he's pushing against you deeper now. you feel the outline of his cock push into you with every not-so-little thrust. "s-saw, saw that stray kitty in the park again."
"mmm, we should really take her in, shouldn't we?" he breathes, cock twitching at the sound of your voice breaking with every grind.
"zaynie," your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him back so you can look at him. his face is flushed, pink blooming over his cheeks and spreading to the tips of his ears. you gyrate against him, pulling a breathy moan from your husbands hung open mouth. "dinner's gonna burn."
"let it burn then." he says, the words coming out in a hiss. "need my wife—we can order takeout later, i'll even cook, don't care. let me just have you like this first."
a beg. to the untrained ear, you can't hear it, but you know zayne like the back of your hand. you know that heat curls in his stomach, that tension lies in every bone in his body, that pure desire is the only thing he feels right now. the need to be close to you is strong, but the need to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking you till he's completely stress free and you're completely full of his cum is much, much stronger.
it's why all the fatigue evaporates and he can't stop himself from flipping you onto the plush couch— rubbing into you you like he might die without feeling the outline of your pussy through your soddened panties and leggings . he can't even be bothered to rid you of your clothes… he craves the release. he needs it more than anything. needs you more than anything.
you let out a pathetic needy sob, overly worked up by him fucking you through your clothes. "z-zayne, more—ugh, need more. t-take it off, please."
his cock twitches helplessly at the sound. it's what he's been missing while drowning in work for hours on end.
"sweetheart," he moans brokenly. "promise i'll fuck you just the way you like—just need you to take this first. you can do that for me, can't you?" he whispers and the word shoot an immense amount of heat straight to your core. "you can be a good little wife, right, darling?"
you can never say no to him, especially when he talks to you like that. you respond wordlessly, giving your husband what he wants—no, what he needs—and wrap your legs securely around his slim waist.
"that's it, good girl." and the way zayne sounds is the polar opposite of the weight of his words. his voice is frayed, desperate. "f-feels, ha, feels so good like this, yeah?"
his hips move faster, imitating the way they would if he were actually inside of you fucking you with full force. your body rocks with every thrust, every grind, your tits bounce underneath your apron, the couch—even as firm as it sits—sways with you in tandem.
it goes on and on. endless, whiny praises from him, sobbing pleas from you, your bodies rubbing against one another effectively ruining his dry-clean-only slacks till you finally feel that tight knot form in your lower belly.
and he's close, too, but zayne's been close to coming undone—he just didn't want to let go without you.
it happens so quickly that you barely have the time to process it. "baby, baby," you gasp, nerve-endings coming alive while your heart pounds at the speed of light. "'m—oh, fuck, baby. 'm cumming, cumming, cumming."
"cum with me, sweet girl." he wheedles, never losing his momentum for a second. he grinds you both through it till he feels your body pull taut underneath him. till you're shaking and sobbing and clinging onto him for dear life.
then he stills and his orgasm is explosive. he's vocal, moaning out your name mixed with all the sweet pet names he's given you. his cum leaks through his boxers and said dry-clean-only slacks, beading out of the fabric in a taboo, yet very erotic way.
it takes you both minutes to come down till the smell of burning food fills your nostrils.
then you hear the unmistakable beeping of the fire alarm.
"oh, shit."
KIT SAYS... they took my yaoi/bl app away from me. if you guys know where i can read my yaoi ad free, email me. (dm me or send me an ask, I'm begging i need to fujo out over hot men that kiss) oh and this isn't proofread lol
Caleb who knows your secret hobby of writing fanfiction on the internet.
You think you're sneaky, but he had already made a fake account complete with a profile picture, bio, and even reposts from time to time to seem like another human being.
He follows you and comments on your posts regularly and you suspect nothing-just another mutual who enjoys your interests, right?
He anticipates each post, a smirk curling on his lips when he sees you had posted something new.
All your previous entries had been rather tame, cute scenarios with your favorite characters, but this one was different.
The little warning at the top made him curious and he clicked the 'read more' button.
He read the filthy 5k fic you wrote about the character you were currently obsessed with, his eyes widening, totally taken aback by how vulgar you could be.
To think that just a door away, you were hunched over your computer writing about this, thinking about this-
"Coulda just asked for help," He murmured to himself, reading the authors note at the bottom.
Hey everyone! Sorry for the hiatus-my gege came back from school so I've been hanging out with him all the time! I hope you enjoyed...it was my first time writing smut so like its probably really horrible LMFAO
His fingers hovered over the keys, wondering what type of expression you would made if he revealed that gege was reading your fanfictions. Would you shrivel up and apologize? Never speak to him again? Scream at his face?
The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel weird about it (even though it was already weird) and he did want to read more about what was going on in that pretty little head of yours-so he typed out a simple reply and scrolled back up, pulling the band of his sweatpants down, eager to reimagine the scene as you and him instead.
nyahpple_20 replied to the author: Please write more smut!!! <33
a/n: hello everyone it's been 1000,00942049 years...but I decided to write a mini drabble to get warmed up. I have so many drafts and plans for things and my mind is just a jumble of stuff LOL!! Sigh I wish caleb was secretly reading my fics from the other room...Feel free to expand on this idea or just use the idea lmfao. (PLZ TAG ME IF YOU DO <33) divider by @jellyskyy-art
pairings : xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, and caleb (seperate)
synopsis : the lads men make you angry so they find a way to kiss it better
wc: 6.6k
general cw : nsfw, make up sex, oral (fem!receiving), overstimulation, piv, fingering, nipple play, dry humping, semi-public sex, unprotected sex
aexias talking : hii sorry this took me so damn long, ive been going thru writer's block LOL please enjoy <3
XAVIER 沈星回:
"Xavier, please." You rub your temples, smoothing your fingers through your hair. Seeing his face makes it difficult to stay mad at him. Even if you're upset over a silly reason, you still hold your ground. He stands outside your doorstep, eyes glimmering with sorrow. A soft dejection written on his face. He almost looks like a dog— Sad and pathetic.
The fact you fold so easily for him is pathetic though.
How could you not though? It's hard to deny Xavier when he makes you feel so good. You tangle your fingers into his strands, smacking your other hand against the wall to leverage yourself. Xavier crowds you, rubbing his nose into your thighs, kissing up the insides of your legs. He raises your thigh, letting it dangle over his shoulder. Xavier presses kisses into your hip, goosebumps flooding your body.
You're the pathetic one.
"My star." Xavier moans, his tongue lapping at your inner thighs. You make the mistake of staring down, seeing the haze in his eyes. It makes your stomach coil with need, throbbing at the mere sight of him. Xavier presses kisses into your skin, hands stabilizing you. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, okay?" He mumbles, far too invested in your pleasure.
You know it's stupid, Xavier shouldn't be apologizing for your stubbornness. Yet, you can't help but feel a swirl of glee, seeing him indulge in your immature mannerisms. His nose bumps against your clit, letting his tongue explore your sex. His eyes still remain on your expression, feeling your muscles twitch and spasm under his palms.
"I'll only look at you, okay? Only you, my love." He drags his tongue up, gently suckling at your clit before one of his hands glides up the back of your thigh. His fingertips glide over your slit before circling your entrance. "I'll only make you laugh, okay? I'll only ever make you feel good. I'm yours." Xavier's finger presses against the opening, gently sliding in. You clench around a single digit, hips buckling.
"I know you're sensitive. It's been two weeks." He mumbles, pressing his finger deeper. His finger curls softly, the pads moving against your walls. You try your best to keep your noises down. You're right in the door way, anyone could hear you two.
"Xavier.." You moan out, pressing his head closer to you. Your hips weakly grind against your face, rolling into his touch. You can feel him smiling, slipping another finger into you. You stretch around him with little to no restraint, your body giving into his mouth.
"Did you try touching yourself?" He asks, pulling away from your clit for a moment. Frazzled, you look down with confusion.
"I, uh— What?" You stumble on your words, too engulfed in how he's making you feel. Xavier repeats his question, kissing around your clit. You buck your hips, silently begging for more. "Yeah, it didn't—Ah— go well…" You admit, ears flushing with shame.
"I thought so.." He says softly, returning to your skin. Xavier continues curling his fingers, thrusting them in and out of you. "I am sorry though." He speaks again, pulling his fingers out. You whine at the loss of contact, but Xavier soothes you. He lets your leg fall off his shoulder, opting to wrap his arms around your hips. His thumbs rub at your lower stomach, pushing up your shirt.
His hand smooths over your skin, applying a soft pressure to your pelvis while his thumb rubs at your clit. He dips lower on his knees, angling his head to lap at your slit. Your skin is puffy, desperate for his touch. This time, you pull at his strands with a soft grunt.
"Xavier, please. If you're going to keep teasing me, I'll be even angrier." Your brows furrow, watching his eyes go wide. That pitiful, pathetic stare makes you clench around nothing. But he listens—He's good at that—focusing on the task at hand. Xavier presses his mouth against you, his tongue curling inside of you.
It's an entirely different feel from his fingers, softer yet more prominent. You buckle against his mouth, his thumb continuing to swirl at your clit. It throbs under his fingers as you become nosier. Concern for who can hear you has long since left your mind.
"Fuck, Xavier. Keep going!" You cry out, head resting against the wall. Weeks after working with just your fingers has left you frustrated. Granted, you caused your own issues, but still. Having his mouth and attention on you is suffocating in the best way possible. You want nothing more than drown into his affections and touch, choke on the feeling of ecstasy. He builds you up so gently, guiding you to an overwhelming pinnacle before he guides you down.
The pressure he applies on your lower stomach only adds to the stimulation, driving you crazy. Your head spins with desire, grinding against his mouth. The entire time, Xavier's eyes never stray from your expressions. It's euphoric, being strung so high, knowing you're going to be just as ardently guided down.
Xavier rumbles something against your sex, but you're too far gone to pay any mind. You can feel your orgasm washing over you, ebbing straight into your body. Before you can process it, you're clenching around Xavier's tongue, staining his mouth and chin with your slick.
Xavier doesn't let up though, gently slowing his movements. You pant as roll into his touch before you start flinching away from overstimulation. You push at Xavier's forehead, feeling his detach from you. His arms still stay looped around your hips, pressing kisses into your pelvis and stomach. His chin rests against your stomach as he cranes his neck to look at you.
"My star… Am I forgiven? Or shall I keep going? I'll do it as much as you'd like— I'll do anything." He says it so pointedly you don't have the heart to tease him. You shake your head, letting go of his blondish strands.
"You're forgiven, Xavier…" You say with a sigh, thighs trembling in his hold. "Though, I wouldn't mind a massage—"
"Anything you desire, my love."
ZAYNE 黎深:
"Your greed knows no bounds, Doctor." You remark, narrowing your eyes at Zayne. The blue light of his laptop reflects in his glasses has his gaze flits up to you. He's in his night clothes, yet he's still sitting at his desk. To add salt to the wound, he ate your dessert. Zayne's brows raise slightly, his crimes dawning on him.
"I'll be there in—" Zayne begins to speak, but you abruptly cut him off.
"Ten minutes, I know. I heard that an hour ago, dear." You walk towards the front of his desk, placing your hands on the wood. He stares up at you, eyes flitting down to the screen. You lean in, pulling his glasses off his face. "Don't you think you owe me reparations, Doctor? You ate my pudding and now you're lying to me." You jut out your lip in a faux pout watching his expression morph. Zayne rubs his temples, sighing.
He rises from his desk, glancing at his phone to check the time. He walks around the desk as your eyes follow him, his arms soon caging you against the wood table. He rests his face into the back of your neck, hands smoothing down your sides. You tangle a hand into his hair, guiding his lips towards yours.
As you press into Zayne you can feel his heart beating on your shoulder, the hitch in his throat as you slide your tongue against his. He lowers his head once more, kissing down the back of your neck. Pulling down the straps of your shirt to feel the skin of your shoulder.
"Will this suffice?" It's rhetorical. Zayne knows that you are far greedier than he is. He huffs a laugh near your neck, massaging his fingers into your hips and tail bone. "Tell me how I can right my wrong, darling." He breathes against your ear, guiding your chin back.
Zayne presses his lips against yours, feeling you willingly part your lips for his tongue. His hands stay busy, thumbs pulling down your pants and letting it pool by your ankles. You step out of the fabric, turning around quickly to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He takes a step back as if to guide you towards the bedroom, but you pull on the collar of his night shirt. You shake your head,
"No. Here. So next time you lie to me, you can remember what it will cost to make it right." You chuckle against his lips, kissing him once more. Your lips move in tandem and Zayne is quick to prop you onto his desk. He shuffles his things to the side, knocking down a few papers in the process.
That isn't important right now.
You raise your hips, slipping your panties off before tugging on the edges of Zayne's shirt. He quickly disposes it, allowing you to feel the contours of his body. Your fingertips glide over his chest, collarbones, and expand over the plains of his abdomen.
Zayne works quickly. An arm wraps around the backs of your shoulders, guiding you to lay across his desk on your hip. Zayne manages to slip a hand between your thighs, knuckles running along your soaked slit.
"Tell me where you want me." He whispers into your ear, kissing the underside of your jaw when you lean back. He manages to get you onto your knees, kneeling on the desk as your back faces him. Zayne kisses down your spine, fingers lingering near your sex.
You take his hand, guiding the tips of his fingers between your folds, dragging them up and down. His fingers flex gently, prodding your hole. Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder as your hips push back into his hand. Two of his fingers slip effortlessly into you, eliciting a moan from you.
"I should have known you wouldn't wait for me. Did you get tired of playing by yourself?" He questions, holding back a smile. You huff into your forearm, flushing.
"You took too long." You groan, pushing back against his fingers. He curls them into your sweet spot, allowing you to set the pace. Zayne hums against your back, feeling the chill of his skin against yours. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down on the bud as he continues to arch his fingers. You gush around him, squeezing your thighs together.
"My apologies." There's no bite to his words, a soft smile displayed on his face. You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowing as he leans in to kiss you again. You're impatient though, growing far too tired of simply having fingers inside of you. You press the arch of your foot against his thigh, straining your ankle to drag it higher up his leg.
Zayne catches your ankle with his spare hand, pressing his thumb into the center. It effectively restrains you foot, causing it to curl inwards. You whine against his lips, but soon hear him shuffling out of his pants.
"Good things comes to those who wait." Zayne humors you, sliding your foot outwards. He parts your legs, guiding the head of his cock between your thighs. He groans at the sheer heat of you, feeling your ass pressed against his pelvis. "Greedy." He remarks, seeing you push back against him. His hand rests on your hip, guiding you onto him.
You groan as Zayne pushes into you, your body rolling against his hips. He holds you down, keeping you in place despite your incessant whines. Gently, Zayne guides you to sit up, his chest against your shoulders. With his lips beside your ear, you can hear his heavy breathing and groans.
"impatient and greedy." He repeats, coiling an arm around your center to palm at your exposed chest. Your head falls back into his shoulder, sucking and biting marks onto his neck. Come tomorrow, he may flush at the bright red markings on his pale skin, but for now, Zayne allows you to do as you please.
When he finally bottoms out, he doesn't waste anytime. He sets the pace for you, pressing a hand on your lower abdomen. You feel the pressure of him, his cock running into the deepest part of you. It drives you insane, your fingers coiling around his wrist.
The compression on your stomach makes your head spin, not to mention Zayne's moans and scent flooding your senses.
"So noisy. Is this what you wanted, my love? Is this a sufficient apology?" Zayne is aware a conversion will occur later as he peppers kisses into your chest and shoulders, uttering a promise to be more cautious about his time working late at night.
Especially on days where he is supposed to be in bed, curled into your warmth. But for now, he's willing to satiate your desires. Pleasure you until your eyes are rolling back and sweat under the folds and panes of your body. You nod fervently, jaw agape as you pulse around his length.
"Cum, my love. I know you want to. Let me—" Zayne pauses, a moan interrupting his speech. "Ah, let me makes you feel better." His hand drags from your hip to your chin, guiding your lips against his as you shatter in his arms. You can't escape the pleasure and sincerity he's forcing upon you. You're wrapped in his ember, indulging to the highest degree in the pleasure he provides.
Even as your lips part, your foreheads press against one another. Zayne pants against your lips before his orgasm crashes into him. His hips stammer, but continue rolling through the pleasure. Gently, you two ride out your highs together, collapsing against his body.
"I love you." Zayne mutters, imprinting kisses into your shoulder. "I'll manage my time better."
"No, don't." You chuckle, bringing your hand up to his face. You lightly squish his cheek between your fingers. "I like to kiss and make up." Zayne chuckles, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple.
"Greedy."
RAFAYEL 祁煜:
Rafayel doesn't argue with you majority of the time. When you get angry, fuming at his behavior, he's quick to shrug it off. A master at adverting your attention to anything other than his wrongdoings. He refuses to address any issues with your relationship with the fear that you will give up on him— Leave him for good.
"Isn't this nicer, cutie?" Rafayel's breath tickles your ear, biting down on the soft flesh. You twitch under him, hips rutting into his palm. "You don't need to worry about anything. Just focus on me, okay?"
It's hard to focus on anything except him. His fingers curl into your just right, rocking his palm with the correct pressure. It should be a crime how good Rafayel makes you feel. The way you kiss and make up is addicting. The high you get from arguing to grabbing his collar and kissing him senseless.
Your arms coil around Rafayel's neck, sucking on his skin. He hisses, palming at your hip with his free hand. You bite around his neck and collarbone, decorating him with your markings. You refuse to leave him because regardless of his shortcomings, Rafayel makes up for them in a plethora of ways.
"Are you close, cutie? I can feel you. It feels so good, doesn't it? Grinding on my hand instead of yelling, hm?" He doubles down, pressing his thumb against your clit. He mercilessly swirls the bud, jerking his fingers to press deep inside of you. You moan into his skin, biting down harder the closer you get. Your hips press into his palm, meeting him halfway.
Your body stutters though, the sensitivity growing to an all-time high. Though, just before you cum, Rafayel pulls his hand away from your sex. A string of your slick chases his fingertips, making him smile at the sight. You're huffing, panting as you gaze at him with anger.
"All you do is make me angry." Your words hold no bite though, not when your thighs are shaking with need. He knows you won't be mad for long, not when he holds the power of your pleasure in his palm.
Rafayel snickers, leaning onto his forearms as he undoes his zipper. The bed sinks under his weight as your hands impatiently undo his belt. The metal clinks as it falls to the floor, your body moving in to kiss him. Your hands cup his face, drawing him in as he undresses himself.
You already know what's coming next. He forces you to sit up on your knees, pressing a hand to the backs of your thighs. Rafayel doesn't wait for you, sinking you down on his cock as his tongue takes the opportunity to slip into your mouth. Your moans muffle against his tongue as he pulls you down further.
Your nails drag into his skin, creating red angry marks. You push against his chest, letting him lay flat against the sheets. His hair puffs out, cheeks flushed as you rise up on your knees. Rafayel reaches out to touch you, but you swat his hand away.
"No. Just sit still. Do something good for me for once." You furrow your brows, sinking back onto his cock with ease. He watches from below as your knees spread, the way your head tilts back. Your hand presses onto his chest for stability, arching onto him. You lay flat onto him, your hips bouncing.
Rafayel groans beneath you, the tips of his ears a bright red. The room fills with heavy pants and moans. Despite your orders, his hands rest on your ass, aiding you. Your fingers splay over his sides, leaving marks down his chest and shoulders.
"You're such an ass, you know?" You grunt, legs trembling like jelly as you spread your knees wider. The burn feels so good, blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. "Making me chase you down all afternoon. Just for you to ignore me." Your nails dig into his skin as you try to push yourself up.
You swat his hands away again, ruffling your own hair to bounce on his cock properly. He lies deep in your stomach as you bite down on your lip.
"You're so fucking immature." You drag your nails down Rafayel's torso, his cock throbbing inside of you. You clench around him rhythmically, his hips winding into yours. His hand raises to your chest, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He lets out a strained huff, smiling despite all your insults.
"You still love me though. Right, cutie?" Rafayel pulls you down against his chest, hands grabbing your hips to bounce your ass onto him with a steady pace. You grasp at the sheets, digging blunt crescents into his skin.
"Never going to let you leave me, okay?" He hisses through gritted teeth. Despite his ability to speak, Rafayel isn't faring any better than you are. "We'll figure it out. I'll do better." The base of his spine tingles under your weight, a force driving his climax closer and closer. The longer it goes on, the sloppier Rafayel gets. His body tenses, growing dizzy at your mewls and whines.
His hand leaves your hip, driving your face towards him. The kiss is a mess of teeth and tongue, bitting at each other's lips as you both try to contain yourselves. But it feels too good. The way you tighten and gush around him drives Rafayel insane. In the same manner, Rafayel sinks deeply into you, thrusting his hips into yours with precision.
In sync, the two of you shudder chest to chest. Your nails tug at Rafayel's scalp, the pain forcing his orgasm to crash down. Your entire body trembles, thighs quivering as you gush around Rafayel's length. It's almost painful how hard you cum. You can hear Rafayel moaning into your ears before biting down on your shoulder.
Tit for tat.
Sweat drips down your bodies, slack against one another. Neither of you move, afraid to rock the serenity of the moment. Rafayel rests his hands against your upper back, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.
"I will do better, I promise." He mumbles into your hairline, drawing you in for a much softer kiss.
"We'll see."
SYLUS 秦彻:
The first thing Sylus does when he returns home is seek you out. Especially right now considering he's committed a criminal offense: He has missed date night. A ritual you two have at least once a week. Today though, he was caught in unfortunate circumstances. He almost got caught into a trap, negligent of his surroundings due to his mind being occupied by you. He finds you laying in your shared bed, slumped over the sheets.
You're still wearing your outfit. Your heels have almost slipped off your feet as they dangle over the bed, your dress riding up your hips. He has an incredible view, but he can't help but feel a pang in his chest. He doesn't even shed his gloves before laying beside you. His hand runs up your thighs, massaging the exposed skin of your hip. Sylus pulls you close, watching you rouse from your blissful sleep.
"Sylus?" You breathe out, eyes still shut. Your body curls into his, the cool leather of his hand smoothing over your forehead. Your makeup has gone askew, eyeliner smudging. He gently runs a hand under your eye, smiling softly. The low lights make it easier to see his face even as he draws near.
"I'm late. I'm sorry." There's a deep furrow in his brows, his silver strand swaying. You match his expression, linking your fingers together at your hip bone.
"I got all dressed up. I wanted to see the opera." You're disappointed, he knows it. Sylus leans down to kiss you, lips softly pressed into yours. You turn over, letting him hover over you.
"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry." He mutters into your lips, letting you coil your arms around his neck. You feel the prickly edges of the back of his head, fingers finding his strands. He feels nice pressed against you, holding you through the negative emotions that backpack off disappointment. Sylus cups your ribs, hands molding over your breasts as he kisses down your dress.
"So beautiful, hm?" His lips bite your skin gently, lapping at the wounds. Your thighs make room for his knee as it settles between your legs. You let your fingers make do of his shirt, unbuttoning the top as you tug his tie off. You can see the dust that sticks to his shirt, the splatters of blood on his cheek. You furrow your brows at the sight, pulling him closer.
"Did you get hurt?" You whisper against his lips, afraid that if you spoke any louder it would break the moment. Sylus shook his head, reassuringly kissing you. His lips move with yours in tandem, arms coiling around one another. "I'd be more angry if you did." You tell him when you part. Sylus laughs when your arms slip off his shoulders. You remove his shirt, hands exploring his body.
It's familiar terrain. The small dots on his body, the contours of his abdomen and hips. You know this area well, running a hand over his chest. He's sensitive there. Sylus moans above you, pulling your hips up to fully push your dress up. It clings to your waist as Sylus kneels near the edge of the bed. He pulls you forward with a tug to your ankle as he slips your heels back on.
"Can I walk you through what we would have done?" He mutters against your knee, looking up through his lashes. Your fingers find home against his head, nodding gently as you place your thigh over his shoulder. Sylus smiles softly, the edges of his eyes softening. "The opera would have been the first spot. And dinner afterwards, that's our tradition." He speaks fondly of your weekly routines.
"Then we would walk around a park. You always stuff yourself full, kitten. I'm glad though. Seeing you become greedier as the days pass." Sylus fully settles on his knees now, gently parting your thighs. He can see the way your panties gently glisten under the soft lighting. He smiles, kissing the insides of your knees.
"By then, I would have reaches my limit. Especially when you look this divine. How could I not?" You flush under Sylus's compliments, letting a small giggle slip. "Where would you let me have you? Near the entrance or in the elevator? Perhaps the lower living room? That is your favorite, no?" Sylus slips a thumb under your panties, gently tugging them down your thighs.
"Maybe the stairs on the way to the bedroom. I grow more impatient as the days pass, kitten" You can imagine it now, running away as he chases you up the stairs. Sylus is adept in chasing you though, a master in his craft. Pressing you into the stairs as your thighs squish his head.
That is his idea of paradise after all.
With your panties out the way, Sylus parts your thighs further. You scoot closer, guiding his mouth to where you need him most. He hums, satisfied with your orders. His tongue runs along your folds, wasting no time.
"Maybe the bathtub like last Friday? You enjoyed that greatly, didn't you? I've never seen you make such a face before." Sylus reminiscences the way you were trembling on top of him as your hips rose and sank. Desperately holding onto his hand, tears streaming with need. Tragically beautiful.
His fingers join the mix, circling your entrance to gather your slick. You accept his touch, rolling your hips into his fingertips. He thrives off watching you like so. You let out a shaky breath, his middle finger sinking into you. You feel the bump of his ring by your folds, thighs pressing around him. That has never stopped Sylus though. His free hand dips your body back, laying on the bed flat.
With a hand on your lower back, Sylus raises your hips into his mouth. Your weight settles onto his palm as your legs splay. He gets a clearer view of your sex now, noting the way you pulse around him. Sylus likes the take his time, savor every sound and taste. But tonight he has a mission to fulfill: Satisfy his beloved. Make it up to you.
Sylus does just that, his finger curling into your sweet spot. His fingers are your favorite part of him, long and stocky to hit in just the right places. You fist the sheets, tugging at the burgundy silk. It's sickening how smooth his sheets are. They slip from your fingers as your hips roll into Sylus's touch.
"Please. More, Sylus. Don't tease me…" You moan from above, letting your hand slip beneath the bodice to squeeze your breast. Sylus takes his hand from our lower back to glide up your body. He shushes you, bitting the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
"Let me. Just enjoy, my love." He cups your exposed breast, kneading the skin before using the sides of his fingers to pinch and roll your nipple. All the while, he slips another finger inside of you. He works you well, curling and prodding your sweet spots. "That's it. It must feels so nice, right?" Sylus rises from your thighs to kiss up your stomach. He's bent at an odd angle, so you pull him back on top of you.
He cages you with his body against the numerous pillows, gliding his tongue against yours. Sylus moans into your mouth, angling his wrist to better touch you. His thumb glides between your lips to press at your clit. You jerk against him, thighs squeezing his wrist. It doesn't stop Sylus though, he keeps his pace.
With his free hand, he fully tugs down the top of your dress and lets the material bunch at your torso. Your nipples harden under the newly found air. Sylus suckles around the buds, but quickly changes his tune when you whine under him. He commits to the act, directly suckling at the bud. It hardens more in his mouth, growing puffy and swollen from his ministrations.
"Kitten." Sylus purrs against your skin, creating bites into your skin. "Beautiful. My beautiful sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you as much as you'd like." His voice rumbles in your ears. Your hands explore his bare body, dragging red lines down his biceps and shoulders. Sylus shudders under the pain, eyes gently rolling back.
He works guides you through it all, murmuring sweet words into your skin while his fingers curl and roll into your cunt. You pulse and gush around him, legs flailing.
"Sylus!" You cry out, tears brimming your eyes. Sylus kisses your lids, smiling.
"Cum for me, sweetie. You deserve that much." He whispers, feeling your body seize under him. It's euphoric, like fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Your jaw slackens, pitchy moans and whines escaping your lips the longer Sylus keeps your strung out for. His fingers don't stop even as you cum, clenching around his digits. His palm rolls into your clit, hips chasing his movement.
"Good girl, good. I have you, sweetie." He rocks you through your high, even has you slacken under him. Sylus does not stop, gently guiding you into another high. You don't mind it though, your body in desperate need of his touch. Sylus presses a kiss to your lips, saliva pooled around the edges.
"We'll keep going until I've paid my dues, kitten. Be as greedy as you please."
CALEB 夏以昼:
Caleb is a nuisance when you argue. He would perish if he gave you even an ounce of space. He wants to solve issues in the moment rather than letting them linger in your mind for hours on end. Nip it in the bud, kind of guy. You hate that about him though— So clingy and in your face when all you need is a little space.
Though, you can't quite be mad at him when his tongue is buried deep inside of you.
"Pipsqueak, please? I'm sorry, honey. Won't ever put the cameras up again, okay?" Caleb says, pressed into your sex. You push at his forehead, yet your hips chase after his touch. You feel like a fool. How could you fold so fast?! Yet, how could you pass up the opportunity? It's not as if Caleb has ever given you a bad experience in the bedroom— Far from that.
You falter, seeing his eyes glimmering in the low lighting of his home. You shouldn't even be here, you should be ignoring me. You were headed back home after a bad argument, but he insisted you stay for dinner and or at least take something home. Yet, as the water on the stove comes to a roaring boil, Caleb pays it no mind.
"I'll be a good boy, yeah?" Caleb whines, his fingers working into your sensitive walls. You twitch above him, gripping onto the granite tiles. It digs into the base of your spine as you tremble on your toes. You tug at Caleb's strands as your heart races in your chest. His touch drives you mad, tongue swirling over your clit as his fingers veer into your sweet spots.
He plays so unfair.
Caleb presses a wet kiss to your clit, kissing all along the meat of your thighs. His nose rubs into the skin as he hums, watching your composure fail. He draws your hand covering your mouth back to his head, letting you push him further into your wet folds.
"I'll do anything, baby. I'm sorry, okay? I'll be such a good boy." He laps at your clit again, suckling on the swollen bud. Your hips jerk into his mouth, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Caleb's eye brim with faux tears, pleasuring your most sensitive places. He rambles on, mouth pressed into your folds.
He works into your body, dragging two orgasms out of you. Your legs tremble around his head and thighs before he twirls you around. Gently, with an arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders, Caleb bends you over the table, pulling your panties to the side. From the corner of your eye, you can see your discarded jeans and one of your boots. Your eyes flutter shut as Caleb kisses down your spine, your hand seeking out his.
"Hm? What is it, pretty? You forgive me?" You ignore his teasing, looking over your shoulder to whine at him. Just as Caleb knows your every weakness, you know his all the better: Your needs. With flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, you give him the neediest look you can muster.
"Oh, my baby. Look at you. You just need me, huh?" You nod in reply. Caleb falters, cooing at your expression. He guides you back up, pulling you into his arms. His pants hand low on his hips as Caleb guides you to his bedroom. With your arms looped around his neck, you hold on tight.
"I'll be good, yeah? No more spying on you, baby." Caleb nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, guiding you to his bed. As your placed onto grey-ish black sheets, Caleb hovers over you. He aims for your neck, kissing and lapping at your skin. You let his chest press against yours, legs locking around his hips. "Would you like that, honey? Me being good for you? Is that what you need?"
Again, you don't reply, letting your noises answer for you. His hand rub at your sides, fingers finding their way between your thighs again. A shiver treks up your spine as Caleb's fingers spread inside your walls. He tugs on your earlobe, pulling away with a chuckle when you punch his chest.
"Behave, boy." You narrow your eyes, letting him place your ankles on his shoulders. Caleb doesn't like to waste time, not when you're ready for him. He nods, his bangs swaying softly.
"Can I, baby? Promise I'll make you feel so good, okay?" His eyes wane, melting into a look of needy tenderness. You can't say no, you don't want to. You roll your eyes at him, pressing your hips forward. As his hips presses into you, Caleb groans. Your wet heat envelops his length as he grinds on his molars. But soon, noises slip out of his mouth and his brows knit.
"Thank you, baby." Caleb sighs, relief spreading through his body. The deeper you sink onto his cock, the louder he gets. He repeats this mantra of thanks over and over into your neck, lapping and nipping the skin. His hips have a mind of their own, raising yours to thrust into you as deeply as possible. Eventually, he rises to see your face. The flushed, dazed expression makes his cock throb.
"My baby. You're so pretty." He mumbles into your lips, placing wet kisses all over your face. "I couldn't help myself. You were so beautiful and I just—Ah!— Wanted to make sure nobody hurt you, honey." In between thrusts he speaks, trying his best to keep his composure. But Caleb falters feeling your walls clench around him. His pelvis knocks into your swollen clit, only amplifying the pleasure.
"My pretty baby." He coos, kissing the insides of your knees, down to your ankle. Caleb pulls your sock off with his teeth, letting your foot rest in his palm before pressing a kiss to the underside. He strays down your heel to the sides before one final one at the base of your foot.
"Promise I'll be a good boy, okay? No more cameras, baby. Yeah?" Caleb lets your foot rest on his chest as his head smooths the hair out of your face. Sweat lines your naked body the closer you get. Your whines grow louder as your hips try to back away from his obsessive pleasure, but Caleb has never let you stray far.
"Shh, shh. Don't run, baby." Caleb whispers, pressing his body weight onto you. The pressure only makes you dizzier, unable to run from the onslaught. It's too much, yet not enough all at once. Caleb knows, he knows everything about your body. So his fingers find your chest, pinching your nipples between his thumb and pointer, gently tugging at it. "Shh, don't be fussy, I know. I know, baby. I have you."
He suffocates you with his love, locking his lips against yours. Caleb suckles on your tongue, letting you pull at his hair. Your nails rake angry marks all along his back, his necklace making its way between your lips. Your run your tongue along the beaded apple, letting the thick silver slip onto his.
"Cum for me, baby. Wanna make you feel so good, yeah? Let me do that much." Caleb's arms encompass your body, rutting into your heat before your nails dig into his biceps. It's too much, your body can't handle it. You spasm under him, eyes rolling back before the knot in your stomach bursts.
"There you go, baby. I have you." Caleb babbles, lost in the heat and tightness of your cunt. His hips keep rutting into you as he digs his face into your neck. With what little strength you have left, you tighten your hold on Caleb's necklace. You tug it towards you, drawing him into a kiss. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip, iron coating your taste buds.
That's the final push he needed.
Before you know it, Caleb cums inside of you. A warmth fills your lower regions as your ankles lock against his spine. He can't move, forced to withstand the overstimulating waves of his orgasm. He whimpers and jerks in your hold, but you guide him through it.
"Will you forgive me, baby?" His voice is so shaky, eyes brimmed with tears. You can't tease him now, not when he's trembling and desperate for your forgiveness. You sigh, your face hot with his breath. "I've been a good boy, tell me what else I can do, my love. All I want is for you to forgive me." You smooth his hair out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his sweat lined forehead.
"I'll let it go just this once.." You grumble, reluctant. Caleb's eyes glow with joy, encompassing your body into a hug. He peppers kisses all along your exposed skin as he gently pulls out of you. You tag back on his necklace, whispering against his lips.
"Do me one favor though, Caleb." You say, watching his brows raise. If he had a tail, you'd imagine it would be swaying quickly.
"Yes, yes! Anything, baby." You push yourself a bit higher on the bed, your elbows shakily supporting your weight. You guide Caleb's face back between your leaking folds, watching his ears twinge red.
"Clean me up?" Caleb smiles in return, pressing a kiss to the top of your foot.
Based on this ask! Thank you!
───────
Zayne x fem!reader x Caleb
CW: Dom/sub dynamics, orgasm edging and denial
WC: 1,402 | AO3 link
"I'm just saying," Caleb says casually as he's preparing dinner. "I know her like the back of my hand."
"Yes," Zayne replies. "But nothing is more telling than physiology and the body's natural responses."
Caleb shakes his head.
"I know the second-" He turns to look at Zayne behind him, pointing the spatula in his hand at him. "- the second - she's about to come. And just by the look and sound of her too."
Zayne pays him no mind and continues to tap away on his laptop.
"Pfff," Caleb scoffs as he turns back to the frying pan. "You're just scared 'cause you know you'd lose."
Zayne closes his laptop and clasps his hands on top of it.
"No, I'm simply choosing not to bet on who can torture our girlfriend for the longest." He says, peering at Caleb over the rim of his glasses.
"Torture? Really?" He give Zayne a blank look. "Stop being so overdramatic. We both know she loves being edged more than we love edging her."
Zayne looks down at his hands. Caleb's not wrong.
"She...has been particularly bratty lately." He murmurs.
"Mmhmm." Caleb hums in agreement, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Perhaps," Zayne continues. "Perhaps if it were part of a punishment..."
"Mmhmm," Caleb hides his smile before giving Zayne his most innocent look. "You have been letting her get away with a lot lately."
Zayne isn't stupid, he knows he's being manipulated but he honestly doesn't care. Ever since Caleb mentioned the idea of a bet to see which of them could edge you the longest he couldn't get it out of his head. The picture of you being edged to tears by the two of them; eyes glazed over, head empty, the only words coming from your mouth being desperate pleas to come.
"Alright," Zayne concedes. "What did you have in mind?"
───────
Your hands strain against the rope around your wrists. You're not really sure how you got here but your two boyfriends seem to have an agenda that you've been left in the dark about.
They've been taking their turns with their fingers and mouths and now the vibrator was out to add along to your torture. "Come whenever you want." Zayne had said. Except they denied you at every chance they got.
They'd given you permission to come yet they never actually let you come - the highest form of cruelty in your eyes.
"Please," You sob. "Just wanna come."
You've been begging them for so long yet they continue to ignore you. Pulling away from you the second you feel like you're finally going to tip over the edge.
Like right now, Zayne's knuckle-deep inside your cunt, fingers honed in on your g-spot while his thumb rubs at your clit. Your walls clench tightly around him and you're close, so so close - until he pulls his fingers free.
"Her walls squeeze in a certain way when she's about to come." Zayne says to Caleb. "I will always be able to tell, you won't win."
"W-win?" You stammer out.
"And like I said," Caleb says, completely ignoring you and replacing Zayne's position between your spread legs. "I don't need to feel her to know."
He reaches for the wand vibrator again and you whimper.
The worst part is, you're allowing this. You know you can use your safeword at any time and the pain will stop. But, truthfully, you want your head to be rid of thoughts. You wanted this, that's why you'd been so irritatingly bratty all week.
Caleb presses a button and the wand buzzes to life. He places it against your pussy and your back arches. Your poor clit is so sensitive, it feels raw with how much they've played with it, and every touch has you simultaneously wanting to pull away yet push closer.
You try to close your thighs but Caleb just pushes them back open again. He's watching you with such an intensity, like he's analysing every part of your body, every sound and every movement you make.
Your breathing quickens and you can feel it rising again. The knot in your belly grows and grows and you're right there, it's going to happen, you're finally going to get your release.
Caleb abruptly pulls the wand off your clit.
"See," He says, switching the wand back off. "That noise right there. She whines and does these short little breaths. That's how I know."
You cry out in frustration, a tear running down your cheek. The sheets below you are soaked in your sweat and you're not sure how much more you can take.
"I know, baby." Caleb soothes you. "But Zayne thinks he knows you better than me, and I just can't have that, you know?"
Somewhere in your fucked out brain it clicks: They're competing. They're fucking competing.
"Watch," Caleb says, attention now turned back to Zayne. "I'll do it again, but this time listen closely."
He clicks the wand back on, even higher than before, and presses it back onto your clit.
Immediately you're back on the cusp of coming once more.
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!" You beg him, words slurring together.
Zayne strokes your thigh, grounding you. Your whole body is shaking. You push your pussy harder onto the head of the wand because you don't care about whatever the fuck is going on between your two boyfriends. You just want to come.
"Wait for it." Caleb says, tilting his head as he listens carefully.
You couldn't even hold back your tells if you tried. Your breath comes out in pants and you whine every second the vibrator pushes you closer to orgasm.
And then he pulls away again.
"No!" You cry.
You glare up at the two of them and see Caleb smiling smugly over at Zayne who just rolls his eyes.
"I'm not saying you can't tell." Zayne says as he casually pushes his middle and ring fingers back inside you. "My point is that the body can never lie."
His fingers curl and stroke your g-spot, the other hand coming to press on your abdomen. And then his arm starts to move, jostling you on the bed as he literally fucks you with his fingers.
"Oh my - fuck - please let me come." You beg again. "Needa come all over your fingers, oh god, please."
"For example," He continues as though you hadn't said a word. "She can hide or muffle her noises as much as she likes but her body will always give in to me."
It's like he's giving a damn lecture at the university and it's utterly infuriating because you just. Want. To. Come.
"I could be deafened and blindfolded," He looks at Caleb as his fingers relentlessly work inside you. "But I would still be able to tell from the way her walls clench around my fingers and from how much her g-spot swells." He doesn't stop and your pussy is making the most obscene sounds. "And then when you add in things like heartrate and, as you've already pointed out, breathing patterns, it's not too difficult of a thing to determine."
You're holding your breath, your head is light, but you're determined to get yourself there. That familiar sensation builds for the umpteenth time and all you need is a couple more seconds and you'll-
You scream through clenched teeth.
"There," Zayne says defiantly after quickly slipping his fingers free from your sopping cunt. "If I had kept going a second longer I believe she would've orgasmed, isn't that right?"
Zayne looks down at you and you pout at him angrily. You're seriously starting to consider giving one of them a swift kick to the groin. Zayne clears his throat.
"Perhaps we should agree that we both know her body well enough to always predict when she is going to climax." Zayne suggests. "I fear for our safety if we do not let her come for much longer."
His eyes crinkle in a smile and you're grateful, because lord knows that Caleb would go on all day just to prove his point.
"Fiiiiine." Caleb sighs. "I was bored of edging her anyways."
He looks down at you in thought.
"How about we see who can make this pretty pussy squirt all over the sheets the most?" He says with a cruel smirk as he turns the wand back on, clicking it all the way to the highest setting.
Have any ideas you'd like me to write? Send me an ask and I just might!
𝟅ϱ sum. zayne helping you masturbate! cw : mdni, f! masturbation, mirror séx, pūssy smacking, lowkish brat tamer zayne.
“ touch yourself like this. ah, don’t go too fast; you don’t like it that way,” zayne softly guides from over your shoulder. his body is a chair for your much smaller one as you're perfectly situated on his firm thighs, your legs broadly spread open to display your starving pussy, only receiving pleasure from your hands instead of the ones that effortlessly brought you to many orgasms before. directly in front of you, there’s a mirror reflecting your clumsy actions, capturing the tension in your body and the heat from his eyes. “ good girl, you’re starting to get the hang of it, i see.”
despite his supervisory role, the pleasure that your fingers give you doesn’t touch the surface of zayne’s. how every time he fingers you, you’re guaranteed to squirt and soak any surface you’re, and he can easily render you a braindead mess with a few flicks of his fingers, is levels away from the release that you can bring to yourself.
“ zayneeee, my fingers are not nearly enough; want you instead.” you focus your weakening pout towards him, before he gently guides your sight away from him— gently scolding you to look in the mirror and study your reactions. frustration bubbles deep within your gut, mixed with a toe curling sense of need. “ z-zayne! it’s not fair!”
“ you learning how to pleasure yourself isn’t fair? maybe i’ve spoiled you too much for your own good. i can’t always be there to answer your every call— especially when you’re needy.” oh, so it seems he's still upset about that certain phone call. it had been days since you’d seen your husband, or had a proper orgasm, for the most important part. erotic temptations clouded your usual level head, and next thing you know you were calling your husband at the wee hours of midnight, moaning softly in his ear while praising his name, just the way he engraved it into your head multiple times.
you hadn’t expected zayne to let it go so easily— hell, the reason you did it was to get brutally fucked into next week, not taught a lesson involving your hands.
“ a-ah, but do i really have to masturbate in front of you? you’re torturing yourself by doing this, y'know that?” his bulge against your lower back hadn’t been anything more than extremely obvious. with an experimenting roll of your hips, you grind backward on him.
although your smugness is short-lived. a wet, firm smack plants on the meaty flesh of your pussy, making your body uncontrollably lurch forward with profound interest. “ zayne! w-what?”
“ i think you need to be reminded of your situation here,” zayne harshly gruffs from beside you. currently cheek to cheek his calloused hand grips your chin to keep your vision forward and steady on the cursed mirror in front of your shrunken body.
“ by the end of this night, i want to see you completely broken on your fingers, or you’ll go without a month of orgasms from me. i suggest you wisely follow my instructions from now on.”
1.2K words. Fluff (a tiny bit smutty) Lightly proofread. MC trying her best to surprise her hubby
It was incredibly difficult to sneak up on Sylus. Impossible, really. Not only did he have a little spy to always keep him informed, but his senses were super human. He always heard you coming or even could smell the perfume you put on that morning.
Damn him and his dragon senses.
But you were determined to catch him off guard at least once. All of your attempts to get him when he was awake failed. So you decided to shift gears and try to get him in his sleep.
You set it up perfectly.
You sent him dinner. A big, hearty meal full of carbs and protein, matched with his favorite bottle of wine and topped with a pint of his favorite ice cream. As well as a cute note to go with it telling him if he doesn’t eat it, you will be really sad.
You also made sure to call him when you woke up. He would be heading to bed soon, finishing up some paperwork or a quick work out before showering. You distracted him by being needy over the phone. Saying you needed his voice and you wanted to hear him touch himself. He was more than happy to oblige and you got a rocking orgasm out of it. A win-win. He would be even more tired after that.
Next you had Luke and Kieran place one of your shirts in his bedroom. You told them to make it look like it was just left by mistake after a sleepover, tossed into some corner of the room that he would surely see. You made sure to wear it over night so it would smell a lot like you. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist smelling it. He loved your smell. He craved it. It helped him relax. In the privacy of his own room, you knew he would curl up with it as he went to bed.
All this would be just the thing to lull him into a deep, deep sleep.
Sylus slept deeply, but still would wake up at a moment's notice if he needed to. But after all your planning, you are hoping it will get him in deep enough to not hear you sneak into his bedroom.
Luke texts you when he’s sure Sylus is asleep. You drive over, parking outside the garage so he doesn’t hear it opening. You slip inside one of the side entrances and tip toe to his room. The door is closed. You take a deep breath and turn the knob as slowly as you can. It is silent as you push it open.
The room is dark and you see a massive lump lying face down on the bed. The massive lump being your husband, sleeping on his stomach like he always did when he was alone. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can see he indeed does have your t-shirt curled up next to his face.
You smile. You love how well you know him and how you can predict what he will do. It almost makes you feel bad for what you are about to do. Almost.
You pad across the carpeted floor, watching him for any movement. When you get to his side, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself to pounce. However, you don’t quite get there. In the silence of the room, you hear a deep chuckle.
“After this, you’ll never be able to refute me calling you a kitten, sweetie.”
You sigh when you see one of his red eyes peeking up at you from his pillow. He’s smirking, triumphant. After all the work you put into this, you still couldn’t get him.
“For fucks sake.”
He tsks, rolling onto his side to look at you better. “You went to a lot of effort, sweetie. It’s too bad you can’t enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
You cross your arms. “Well you could have let me enjoy them.”
“I think the only one with fruits to enjoy is me.”
He reaches out, taking your arm and pulling you to him. You fall over him with a squeal as he cages you in his arms and rolls over so you can’t escape. His weight is pressing you to the bed. You squirm, but his massive body has you trapped.
“I had hoped my sweet wife was just wanting to spoil me with all the treats she left, but I knew she was up to something. Trying to ambush me in my sleep? Such a naughty, sneaky kitten.”
He rubs his nose against your cheek and down your neck. You whine, trying to push him off to no avail.
“The t-shirt was a nice touch. Though I will have to have words with the twins for entering my room without permission.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “I gave them permission.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you had the authority to grant such permissions,” he teases.
“I’m the bosslady, I can do what I want. Including buttering you up to get you in a deep sleep.”
He lifts his head to look at you. You can see his right eye is glowing just a bit. He loves it when you pull rank. When you boss him and his henchmen around like the proper Lady of Onychinus that you are. He leans down, you think to kiss you, but he bites your cheek, chewing on it. You shriek and can’t help but laugh.
“Syyyy cmon!”
He rumbles against your cheek, releasing it and licking where he bit. It tickles, making you laugh more. Your disappointment from your failed plan fades away. Damn him.
“You’re such an ass.”
“An ass you chose to marry.”
“You begged me.”
“Did I? I don’t remember it that way, sweetie.”
“Then your memory is starting to go, old man.”
He ignores your slight, kissing down your neck. Your eyes close and you lean into him. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You can feel his desire growing between his legs.
“I thought about calling to ask you what you were up to, but I knew your antics would lead you here. Right where I wanted you. In my bed, under me. Won’t you stay with me, sweetie? It’s your day off, after all.”
You whine, trying to resist him. You’d made plans for after your prank to get some things done around your house. Chores you’d been neglecting and errands you needed to run. But your sleepy, warm, and clingy husband was a much more tempting offer.
“You need to sleep, Sy. And I’ve got some stuff to do.”
He grumbles, sounding grumpy. He doesn’t let you go. He presses his hips further into you, starting a slow rhythm.
“Sleep is the last thing on my mind, kitten. For your planned sabotage, I think you should make it up to me.”
You feel yourself growing needy. He cups your cheek and kisses you, sliding his tongue in to claim your mouth. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You can’t resist him. You don’t even want to bother trying.
“You’re lucky I love you.” You whisper between kisses.
He smirks against your lips, biting your bottom one. “I tell myself that every day.”
Request by anon: Could I request caregiver Zayne looking after his sick little
Word Count: ~580
Warning(s): Zayne in doctor mode, medicine, little gear (diaper, pacifier, bottle)
Oh no. The little one was coughing. Obviously, their caregiver had excellent hearing, so of course he could hear them from the kitchen. He was just preparing breakfast, but that was unimportant for now. Breakfast could wait those five minutes, in which he would check the seriousness of the upcoming sickness.
Once Zayne was in doctor mode, there was no stopping him. Not only did he seem to be incredibly fast, he seemed stronger than usually too… or maybe that was the barely there warning? Barely a murmur of a “good morning” and “careful” before he already had his arms around his little one and effortlessly hoisted them up on his hip.
Now obviously they didn’t really like that. They already weren’t feeling well! There was no reason to make it worse! So of course, they started whining in protest and they definitely weren’t going to give into the soothing hushing now!
…They totally did. It wasn’t their fault! Blame Zayne for having such a calm voice! He also knew exactly how he had to rub their side with one hand while he checked their forehead with the other one to get them to calm down again.
The diagnosis? Probably a light fever, definitely a nasty cough, which will give MC a throat ache eventually and in the worst-case scenario they’ll develop a stuffy nose as well. Zayne was mentally preparing for a lot of whines already.
He didn’t want to keep them up longer than he needed to, so he made quick work of changing them into a diaper and fresh pyjamas. Would they actually need the diaper? He wasn’t sure, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Before he left the bedroom, he plopped MC’s pacifier into their mouth, then he was already on his merry way back to the kitchen to finish breakfast… and adapt it a little.
The doctor wasn’t too sure how old his little one was right now, but since they mostly spoke in whines rather than words, he was guessing quite young. He prepared small pancakes for them just in case he was wrong anyway. He also made some sweet milk, so they’d have something warm to drink. (May or may not have a bit of medicine in there)
Then he made his own pancakes and his coffee before he took all that into the bedroom. He put MC’s food on the nightstand, but let them sleep as much as they needed. In the meantime, he ate his own breakfast, got changed into some sweatpants and a loose shirt and quietly checked their temperature.
Until he accidentally woke them up. At least he thinks it was his fault, maybe the little one would have woken up now anyway. But that was the perfect opportunity to get some food in their tummy!
Zayne cut the pancakes in small biteable cubes before putting his little one in his lap and slowly fed them, reminding them to chew properly. By the time MC finished the food, they already wanted to crawl under the blankets again, so they probably didn’t even notice the medicine in the milk or at least were too tired to care.
Zayne didn’t have to do much anymore to get them back to sleep, maybe stroked their back for about two minutes before the little one was back in dreamland. Apparently, MC wasn’t as whiny as the doctor would have thought they’d be…
He was already scared of what the evening would bring.
A/n: I was sick the past two weeks and I'm still dragging the cough with me, so I just projected that onto MC. Just made them easier to deal with... Hope you enjoyed and have a good day/night :D
(SFW Interaction Only!) Even in your adult years, you couldn't shake your fear of thunderstorms. Thankfully, Caleb came just in time to comfort you.
Skyhaven was a great place to visit. Caleb turned out to reside there, it was a gorgeous city, and it was the perfect place to get away from your work as a hunter. However, it was common sense that being so close to the sky would result in more aggressive weather.
Thunderstorms were always an issue for you, despite being in your twenties. The roar of an incoming storm only put you on edge as you lathered the soap in your hands. You knew, in your head, it couldn’t hurt you, but something within you kept the fear alive. It was an irrational fear, yet there was more to it.
As you dried your hands with a nearby towel, you noticed a notification on your phone. It’d been sitting on the edge of the sink, and thankfully, hadn’t fallen off yet.
Something about Caleb being home in less than an hour. It was already getting late, so you came to terms that you’d be asleep once he arrived. He was always leaving for work mid-day, or even mid-conversation: he was a busy man ever since became the colonel.
Even so, you understood that his line of work required him to be on-demand and available. You just wanted to spend more time with him before you left.
As you made your way back to your room, the thunder only got louder, rumbling the ground as lightning flashed outside the window. You tried your best to change and get ready for bed, pulling pajamas from your closet before shutting off the light.
Bad idea.
Within moments, thunder boomed through the room, lightning following as it flashed right outside the window. You couldn’t do it: being all alone, in the dark, and a massive storm tormenting you. It struck a chord in your head, like something flicked on.
You rushed to the closet, slamming the doors, and stumbling to the ground. You were alright, right? The horrible storm couldn’t reach you in the safety of your closet. It was…a safe haven!
Just as you were creating a better name for your new storm hideout, another strike scared you into silence. Then, a few tears slipped down your cheeks. Even if you were safe, it was scary hearing such loud ‘booms’ outside the house. You wiped your tears and hiccuped through the tears.
One thought rang through your sobs and the flashes of light that slipped through the cracks of the closet doors: Caleb. If he made it home before the storm, you’d be in the living room, watching a movie with him after he reheated dinner from the night before. But no…you had to eat alone, and handle the storm.
Alone.
Another sob left you as the closet doors swung open, causing you to freeze in place. It was like Caleb could hear your thoughts.
“What’re you doing in the closet?” He asked, crouching down to your level.
A few hiccups were all you could get out before crying out his name. Caleb seemed prepared as he pulled you into his arms, a soft chuckle at your childish sobs. He knew what was happening, but it was the question of if you’d figured it out yourself.
“T-The…storm…” You mumbled, pointing to the window through your sniffles. Caleb glanced at the window as there was another rumble. You gripped onto him tighter, noticing how he was still wearing his uniform. After a moment, the lightning flashed, then he looked back at you, the same smile as before.
“Was it hard here, pipsqueak? All by yourself against the storm?” He asked, earning a quick nod. “Well, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
Your eyes met his; they were unreadable to you, at least, in this headspace. But from his words you knew he had good intentions, so you stayed in his arms. Besides, who else would recognize your regression when you didn’t even catch yourself? After all these years, he was both expecting this…yet surprised.
Caleb wasn’t complaining though. He’d be there for you, especially after his research on how to care for a little, and the stash of little gear he had piled in his room.
All it’d take was to tell you about your regression…but now wasn’t the time. He knew you only needed to be held, so that’s what he provided: dependence and an open pair of arms.
caleb having a hard day at work and coming home to vent to you about it while he eats you out because he finds it to be the most stress relieving thing he can do
