♡ Ria . she/her . queer. lvl 3x ♡
This is a Love and Deepspace sideblog to dump my LADS obsessions into. It will be 99% reblogs, and while I'm not a writer I am an artist, so you may occasionally rarely see some fanart. There is a LOT of nsfw content: If you are under the age of 18 please do not interact.
My asks are open! Feel free to chat about LADS headcanons or anything else related to the game ☆ﾟ.
((please have common sense if you use it, i love the block button))
a/n: just a short drabble bc this idea has been nagging at me for the past two days: what if Sylus / MC’s baby can only sleep if Sylus sings an off-key lullaby (mc’s singing has no effect)
++++++++++
"You've broken our child."
"I've done no such thing."
"Our baby is broken."
"She is not broken."
"You broke her."
"I would hardly describe a person who can appreciate the finer things in life as 'broken'."
"Sylus. Please."
You jab an accusatory finger at the infant sleeping peacefully in her cot, before directing it to the phone grasped firmly in Sylus' hand, from which an unrecognisable tune is playing. Or more accurately, being sung.
"It's out of tune."
"Sweetie," he says, in a patronising tone that has your blood pressure shooting up, "I think your ears might be broken."
You want to scream. Pull your hair out. Murder your husband.
None of them are viable options, seeing as your daughter is finally asleep and you're losing enough hair as it is on a daily basis without weeding them out of your scalp.
...You suppose there's actually nothing stopping you from killing him after all, but you'll park the idea for now. Instead, you start pacing. Up and down the length of the elaborately furnished baby room, in all its pastel pink glory, huffing and puffing as you fume.
"I've done everything. I rocked her, I carried her, I shushed her for an hour, I played white noise, I got the fancy pillows, did a little massage, everything! But she wouldn't sleep! Not even close! And then you... You!"
You stop, feet coming to a halt right in front of the man who has the audacity to be wearing that stupidly smug grin on his face, and you dig your index finger into his absurdly firm pecs.
"You come in here, play that... that abomination, and out she goes! Like a light!"
"It's calming."
"It's out of tune!" The pacing begins again, this time at almost double the speed. "I don't get it. She only sleeps when she hears those broken recorder noises, your singing, and the twins deliberately singing offkey lullabies to her. I can't sing her to sleep!"
"Have you tried missing a note or two?"
You grit your teeth, glaring daggers at him. "You did this. It was you. I'm sure of it."
"I didn't tamper with her in a lab, sweetie."
"You kept singing to her, when I was pregnant. That must have done something. She must have heard you singing to her while she was in the womb. And now she thinks that's what lullabies should sound like."
"So, are you mad at me for finally putting our baby to sleep? After all that crying and racket for the past two hours?"
He catches you in his arms, holding you in place. You're tempted to continue throwing a fit, but all that pacing and angry whispering has tired you out. The rage pumping in your veins is simmering down into something more lukewarm, as you lean into his warmth.
No different from the way your baby reacts to him singing. Damn it.
"I can't put her to sleep. I'm... I'm useless."
"You're the last person who can say that," he tells you firmly, before proceeding to list out the obvious. "You carried her for nine months. Went into labour for over twenty hours before birthing her. You've been breastfeeding her, even if that means having little to no sleep. You dress her, tie the little bit of hair that she has so you can send us cute photos of her every hour, and you're watching her at almost every second of the day."
He peels you off him only slightly, so that he can tip your chin up to look at him. "You're doing everything. I should be able to do at least one thing for you. And for her."
When he puts it like that...
A pout forms on your lips, and he chuckles at the sight. He tends to find it funny when you do that, apparently.
"Come on. I'll teach you how to play the recorder badly, so you can put her to sleep next time."
He tugs you out the door, and you follow along reluctantly, mumbling under your breath.
"...banned from singing to the next one."
A low laugh drifts past his lips, and then you feel your arm being tugged in a different direction: towards the bedroom.
"I don't mind. Never hurts to start trying early."
I've been having a lot of thoughts lately, about LADS in general. Nothing important, just word vomit & beating a few dead horses tbh (& in no particular order).
the community feels so fractured and disjointed. the vibes are so different depending on what app you're on, and the western fandom feels like it doesn't matter compared to the Chinese fans of the game
While I love the technical advancements the devs are bringing into these new cards... WHY TF ARE THESE CARDS STILL SO POORLY LIT? Don't pretend to give af by offering darker skintones if we can't see them in the fucking cards. Because truly, people are spending money/diamonds to see a goddamn shadow puppet show at this point
The writing of the last couple of multi-banners has been.... hm.
There's so much to do now that it feels like work with little reward considering they haven't actually made it easier to earn diamonds & resources for the back to back banners. It's so NOT feasible to be a harem girlie even paying money. This year was the first time I skipped so many events and I'm pretty sad about it I won't lie
The elephant in the room: why are people SO AGGRESSIVELY racist/homophobic/rabid in this fandom??? Doxxing people for shipping the boys is wild behavior, so is harassing people for liking certain LIs
Mind you, I really love the game and will play regardless of others. It just feels so... sad, or maybe unsettling, that outside of pockets of people there's no real community in the fandom. (definitely a reflection of the world at large rn, I know )
in game Xavier interactions are so wholesome and cute they’re like ohhh haha he’s a kitty cards fiend and he sucks with technology and he also shows symptoms of severe depression or whatnot that MC is helping him with that’s so kawaii
and then his fucking cards are like WAR CRIMES SEX DARK LORD BACKSHOTS BEND OVER GRAH GRAH BOOM BOOM GENEVA CONVENTION BREAKING TIME
headcanon that farspace colonel!caleb gradually stops dropping the g’s from his words. in his new role, he’s forced to wear an unwavering mask of perfection, of accuracy and infallibility—there’s no place for his playful, informal cadence in the fleet’s operations.
and so, as the months go by, he exchanges his signature what are you thinkin’s and where are you’re goin’s for their grammatically correct yet vapid counterparts.
when you reunite with him, it’s one of the many things about his transformation that make your heart ache, but you’ll never bring it up. you won’t risk crumpling his already fragile selfhood over such a trivial perception.
but the more time you spend together after you reconcile, the more his natural speech pattern peeks through.
you’re in the midst of a pillow fight, landing blow after blow on his back, when you hear it: “you think you’re gettin’ the best of me? i don’t think so.”
and you’re so overjoyed by his casual tone—his transient return to the caleb you once knew—that you briefly forget what you’re doing, having no time to react before his apple throw pillow smacks you in the face
♡︎ synopsis: You give Sylus a private pole dance show.
♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader
⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒
♡︎ cw: pre-relationship, pole dancing, lap dance, cowgirl, missionary, creampie
♡︎ word count: 4.2k
♡︎ a/n: If you don't like how I wrote Sylus pls don't say anything. 😭
♡︎ a little gift for my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎
divider by @cafekitsune
"Why are you walking by yourself in the city at 1 am?" Sylus asks you over the phone.
You look around, searching for Mephisto. You sigh when you fail. "I just wanted to sober up on my way home."
"You can sober up in my car." And as if on cue, a familiar black car pulls up next to you.
The other line cuts off and Sylus exits, walking around and opening the passenger's door. "Get in, sweetie."
You cross your arms. "I don't wanna get car sick."
"You won't. I'll drive slowly."
"But I'm like five minutes away from my apartment." You look around at the empty street. No people and no surveillance cameras. You did pick out a weird route, but it was in a peaceful neighborhood. "Why don't you walk with me?"
Sylus' shoulders slump at your request. Not because it's unreasonable, but because he hoped the car ride would be more than five minutes long.
After parking the car, he returns to you carrying a water bottle and a paper bag with a logo of a donut shop. He hands them over, and you accept, feeling guilty.
"Did you get these for me?"
He shrugs. "I always drive by that place, so I got curious and bought some."
"Oh... Oh?" Your eyes land on a stain on his shirt. Blood? No - "Is that jam?"
He glances down "Right, I tried one and it spilled on my shirt. I can just get a new one."
You roll your eyes. "Of course you can. I have something that can remove the stain."
When you turn to start walking, he grabs your hand and loops your arm around his. "Slow down, I don't want you to trip."
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Just when you locked the doors of your apartment, it hit you that Sylus, the infamous leader of Onichynus, your friend (?), is in your apartment. At 1 am, for the first time. The apartment isn't messy, but you still would've prepared it more. For instance, you would've put away the pole standing in the middle of your living room.
Of course, that's the first thing Sylus notices. "You like to pole dance, kitten?"
The question sobers you up immediately. Your face and ears burn in embarrassment, and you can feel sweat forming on your back. "Um, sometimes. When I have time." You scurry away to the kitchen to put away the food, Sylus chuckling behind you. You wouldn't be so flustered if you knew those cool, energetic moves. No, instead, all you know is the sensual, seductive ones. They're like a breath of fresh air, given the nature of your job.
You go back to Sylus who made himself comfortable on your sofa, taking in the new environment. "I have a men's t-shirt that could fit you, and I'll return your shirt the next time I see you."
With a slight glare he responds "I'm not wearing another man's clothes."
You sigh "It's mine. I like to wear baggy clothes around the house." Although, you can't help but smile a little at that display of jealousy. Was it, though? Or are you just being delusional?
You wish it was.
His face returns to the neutral relaxed state, with his usual amused smirk. The face, you noticed, he only has when he's around you. It wasn't like that in the beginning (let's not talk about the beginning), but the more time you spent with him, the more you got to see his gentle side.
Lost in your daydream, you didn't notice that he was almost done unbuttoning the stained shirt, revealing he doesn't have anything underneath.
When he completely takes it off, your eyes are glued to his torso. This is your first time seeing him completely shirtless, leaving you unable to peel off your gaze from his chiseled muscles, broad shoulders-
"It's rude to stare, sweetie."
You blink, snapping out of the shameless ogling, taking the shirt that was lingering in his hand for a moment as he was trying to hand it to you.
"I wasn't staring." You, again, make a run for it, this time to your bedroom to fish out a clean oversized t-shirt for him. When you return to the living room, your eyes are fixated on his face, fighting the urge to look down and stare at his physique.
He thanks you and puts it on. It fits almost perfectly, and although he's covered, the sight is making your heart flutter.
He takes a whiff of the fabric. "Smells nice."
After a brief chat about laundry (of course Sylus doesn't do it, but knows how to, apparently), you turn towards the bathroom, claiming "Trust me, I'll make that stain disappear."
"I bet you can't."
The accusation makes you stop in your tracks. "I bet I can! And if I win, you'll get me something pretty."
Sylus chuckles, eyeing you from head to toe. "If you lose, you'll dance for me."
Fell right into his trap.
With a shaky voice you refuse, "I don't think so. Pick something else."
Sylus raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised at your declining of the bet for the first time. "Oh?" He notices how you're shifting where you stand, averting your gaze. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
You shake your head "You didn't, it's just that - " You trail off, an idea popping up in your head. By now, Sylus can read your face with ease, so he smirks when your eyes light up and he listens intently. "How about, if you actually want me to put on a little show for you, you buy me a bottle of my favorite perfume?"
You've been running low, and it's currently out of stock literally everywhere you looked. If he actually wants to see you dance, he'll have to put in a little bit of work. Not only is the perfume out of stock, he doesn’t even know which one is your favorite. At least you never told him. And even if he, by some miracle, finds it, you'll just do a few spins and take your perfume. It's not like he asked you to give him a lap dance. You probably wouldn't be opposed to it, though.
He raises his eyebrows before nodding. "Deal."
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
As you shut the door of the bathroom, Sylus slowly sneaks his way into your bedroom. Actually, it’s not sneaking in if you left the door open, right?
However, he's not a creep who uses this opportunity to go through your underwear drawer. No, he goes straight to your vanity and takes a sniff of every fancy looking perfume, remembering almost every single scent and occasion you wore them on.
The water stopped running in the bathroom. He needs to wrap this up. There's one more bottle, the printed logo and letters worn out, almost empty. He chuckles, as he wonders if this is the one since you're running low and want him to replace it. You could've just asked him to and he'd get you ten more.
His eyes roll back as the ambrosial scent hits his nose. That's it, that's the one. Oh, how he adores it. It smells intoxicating when it's on you. And you're wearing it tonight, him catching a hint of it when you met up and he had to fight every fiber in his body not to bury his face in your neck, taking in your perfume and the feel of your soft skin.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
At the doorway of Sylus' bedroom, you stare at the pole installed in the middle of the room. When he said to take the now stain-free shirt to his bedroom, you thought it was odd since, well - why would you go into his bedroom? The last time you were here, was to search for that brooch and he kicked you out every time. Except for the last time, when you succeeded in finding it, the moments on his bed that you fantasize more often than you'd like to admit, where you wish it led to something more.
You peer at him over your shoulder "You already have the pole installed? Without even getting the perfume first?" After all, it's only been a few days since you last saw him, and when you gave him the challenge.
"Take a better look, sweetie." He nods in the direction of the desk.
You take a step inside to get a closer look, with Sylus trailing behind you to stand next to you. Of course, there it is - the bottle of your favorite perfume waiting for you. Sylus smirks in self-satisfaction as your face is too easy to read now, you can't lie your way out of this.
Nor do you want to.
"Well," Sylus gestures towards the bed, "I took the liberty of ordering some outfits for you."
You then eye the clothes that you didn't notice earlier, gawking at the stunning pieces that ranged from coverage to more provocative, and all in your favorite colors.
You turn to him, eyes wide "I - " You don't even know what to say - you want to thank him, but at the same time you didn't expect him to do all this. You know that he is as generous as he is wealthy, but his thoughtfulness always catches you off guard. One of the main reasons why you like him so much.
He chuckles at your cute reaction and pats your head. Then he takes the shirt that was still in your hands and walks towards the door. "I'll give you half an hour to pick out an outfit and warm up."
"Wha - ?"
He shuts the door behind him.
Fuck.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
You took more time trying on your new pole outfits than warming up, leaving you with only five minutes to frantically pack them in an empty box you assumed was for the clothes, and to actually warm up. There was nothing underneath the skimpy outfit you picked out, since you had to get rid of your underwear that was ruining the look. There were even some heels waiting for you, and even though you didn't have to wear them, you couldn't resist. You put some of your favorite perfume on, of course, and in the middle of the brief warm-up you thought of one more detail.
There's a soft knock on the door and you frantically exit Sylus' closet, almost tripping in your high heels as you go back to the pole.
Sylus enters the room and you can see that he's stunned for a brief second, as he sees you wearing heels and one of his silk robes.
He closes the door behind him and comments with an amused smile "I don't remember displaying my robe on the bed."
You fidget the soft fabric of the belt, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart as the reality of the situation is starting to settle in. The pole next to you, Sylus asking you which playlist he should play, your nose picking up the familiar scent of his fabric softener.
You must've looked like a deer in headlights, because Sylus' concerned frown as he calls your name snaps you back to reality.
"Are you okay? You don't really have to do this -."
"No, I'm fine!" You clear your throat, steeling your resolve. You want to do this. "I was just trying to remember the song..." You grab your phone and hand it over to him to connect it with the stereo and go back to wait by the pole.
You may have fantasized about dancing for him more than you'd like to admit - and not just in these few days since you last saw him. You also may have more than one song that reminds you of him and that you created choreographies for.
While setting up, Sylus sits down on the sofa in front of you.
He can feel your eyes on him.
"What?" He asks, still setting up.
“Nothing.” You look away and do some of the last warm up moves. You wanted to jokingly ask if he expected a lap dance, but you chickened out. The deal was for you to just show off some of your pole dance moves, that’s it. No striptease, no lap dancing…
You collect the courage to make the joke anyway, but just as you open your mouth the first notes of the song you picked out hit your ears.
He puts your phone away and makes himself comfortable in his seat - legs spread, hands resting on his thighs, lips pulled in that smirk, his eyes fully focused on you.
So you give him your most confident-looking smile, grab the pole with one hand and start walking around it. You drag the platforms of your shoes across the floor, just gliding around before getting into the show-off moves. Your movements are fluid, making it looks so easy - from spinning around to air walking. The music and the dancing soothe your anxiety and lift your mood. You know you look good. After a few spins, the silk robe starts getting in the way. With your back turned to him, your hands untie the belt and slide the robe off your shoulders. You look back at him with a playful grin, and you can't help but feel smug at how immersed he is in your performance, one arm now resting on the backrest, eyes raking over your whole body and face, anticipating your next move.
The robe slips off completely and you toss it away somewhere. You feel your cheeks heat up as the air hits your newly exposed skin. This is the first time you've showed so much of yourself to Sylus, and you couldn't help but feel a little shy. But then you see him shifting in his seat, face a little more serious, the attention giving you butterflies. With so much of your skin exposed, you show off some of the advanced moves, and you feel a new boost of confidence. You know it’s stunning - the way you look in your revealing outfit and how you perform these moves with ease.
The other half of the song starts playing, and you decide to shift from the pole to the floor. Fixing your gaze to the side, on Sylus, you go down on all floors, slowly gliding your upper body, your butt propped up, giving him a perfect view of your silhouette. Red eyes follow every step and take in your expressions that go from focused to playful and a little flirty.
Maybe more flirty than you realize.
You lie on your back, lifting your legs and move your hips side to side, making slow waves with your legs. With every next move, you're bolder, more provocative, locking eyes with him as you move.
In the brief silence between the songs, Sylus chuckles "Is that all, kitten?"
You know he's teasing. After all the time you spent together, some of them literally tied to each other, you know how to recognize the slight differences in his tone.
You know how to tease too. Smiling mischievously, you get on all fours, back arched, and slowly crawl towards him, cat style.
Sylus' lips stretch into a half grin as he watches you close the distance, with you now on your knees by his feet. He loved every second of your performance, his admiration for you only growing, always unconsciously proving to him that you are worth every second of his time and every bit of effort to be more patient. But every moment of that performance made his patience run thin. The craving, the need for you – it’s starting to overtake him. The sensual moves, the most provocative outfit he picked out but thought he was pushing his luck with, they made your body, made you, irresistible. He needed to deflect. He loves teasing you because your reactions are always so cute and amusing. He expected a pout or a snarky comment but instead you started crawling towards him and-
You graze your hands over his thighs, feeling the muscles under the fabric of his pants twitch with your touch and stopping just around his hips. Then, you gracefully stood up and turned around, arching your back and moving your hips to the rhythm, giving him a nice view of your butt. As you look over your shoulder, you have to bite back a self-satisfied grin when you catch his gaze raking over your body, not being subtle about it at all. You turn to face him, hands grabbing onto his shoulders as you position yourself to kneel over him, and with every fiber in your body, you fight the urge to just sit on his crotch, to feel if he's hard at all. So you lean back, arms behind your back and holding onto his thighs as you stretch your torso and you roll your hips, your eyes locked with his.
With the second song almost over, you lean towards him, your lips tickling his earlobe, your eyes catching the goosebumps on the skin of his neck and the redness on his ear. "I guess this is all I got."
And just when you're about to push yourself off the sofa, Sylus' strong hands grab you by the hips, pressing them down on his clothed erection, a yelp escaping your lips upon contact.
"Are you sure?" His red eyes, illuminated by the low lights of his bedroom, are on you, lidded with lust.
Just a bit more.
You sigh innocently and avert your gaze, resting your arms on his shoulders, your hips moving lazily over the rock hard erection, earning a choked grunt from the man under you, his hands gripping the soft flesh of your hips and butt.
"Well..." You trail off, steadying your breathing as arousal started rapidly coursing through your body, making your mouth dry and pussy wet. "I think - !?"
Sylus' hand wraps around your jaw, making you look back at him. His lips are parted, cheeks flushed, and you don't think you've ever seen his eyes looking at you with such intensity.
Out of breath, he asks you, "Can I kiss you?"
"Y-yes."
His lips take yours in a searing kiss, the hand on your hip trailing over your back and pressing between your shoulder blades, while the hand on your jaw finds its way to the back of your head. It feels like an out of body experience to finally kiss Sylus, to feel his soft lips you've been eyeing for so long, to bury your fingers in his silver hair, to taste mint and red wine on his tongue, to feel the pulse on his neck under your hand. Your clothed pussy was fluttering, desperate for some attention, so you started moving your hips again, grinding against him, drawing out a low groan from the man.
"If you keep doing that I can't hold back any longer." He warns in a low voice against your lips.
You take his 'warning' seriously and suddenly sit up, kneeling above his lap once again. A flash of confusion (or disappointment) on Sylus' face gets quickly overwritten with surprise, followed by a cocky grin as your hands go to his belt.
He puts his hands over yours, making you look back at his eyes that softened a little. "Are you sure?"
You nod and try to shift your attention back to his belt, but he grabs your chin, his face a breath away from yours. "I need you to use your words, kitten."
You swallow thickly, the blood rushing under your cheeks and ears "Yes, I can't wait anymore."
Sylus gives you one more breathtaking kiss before he opens his belt and unzips his pants, hissing in relief as his hard cock is freed from his underwear. Your eyes widen as they stare at the sheer size of it, your pussy fluttering in anticipation.
You move the bottoms of your outfit to the side, making him groan as he catches the sight of your naked pussy lips, "Fuck, you had nothing underneath this whole time? You'll be the death of me."
Your chuckle is replaced by a soft whimper as he grabs his cock by the base and guides you by grabbing your hip, the tip sliding along your wet folds, grazing your clit. It slides right against your entrance, dipping in and out of your hole, each time a little deeper, before the tip is fully inside and you're already seeing stars. Now both his hands are on your hips, slowly guiding you down as he watches your face intently, a single drop of sweat sliding down his temple.
"You can take it, pretty girl." He chokes back a groan as your walls squeeze around him as he enters you deeper. It takes him every last bit of restraint not to thrust up into you and fuck you senseless.
He rubs soothing circles on your bud, making your legs twitch, the stretch of his dick already stimulating enough to send you over the edge. With a few shallow pumps, he fully enters you.
"That's it, you're doing so good." Pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips find yours, teeth nipping and tongue licking your bottom lip before he trails over your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck. Holding onto his broad shoulders and nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, you slowly start moving your hips, sweat starting to drip from your back and your chest. He takes off your top, leaving you with only your bottom and the heels on your feet, while he's still fully clothed as you ride him. His tongue drags over between your breasts, drinking up your sweat, his lips then latching onto your pebbled nipple while his fingers play with the other one.
Your sensitive swollen clit keeps rubbing against his pelvis, as you roll your hips on his length.
Sylus hisses against your breast, "You're squeezing me so tight." He grabs you by the back of your neck, his face now close to yours. With his other hand squeezing your butt cheek, his hips thrust up, meeting your pace. "You gonna cum, darling?"
You can only mewl and nod in response. He notices your leg muscles shaking and hips staggering in their movement.
"Let me take over." He knows you're getting tired, but too lost in pleasure and probably too proud to admit it. He slides further down in his seat, letting your body rest completely on top of him. He holds onto your ass in a bruising grip, holding your hips in place as he starts vigorously thrusting up, the blunt tip hitting all the right places and the base and pelvis hitting your clit over and over until you're a panting moaning mess on top of him. His teeth latch onto the flesh between your neck and shoulder as your intoxicating smell, your voice, and pulsing cunt bring him closer to cumming too.
Just when you're about to come down from your high, Sylus suddenly sits up and throws a pillow from the sofa onto the floor.
"Hold onto me." He instructs and you do as you're told, wrapping your arms and legs around him, allowing him to, as gently as possible, lay you onto the floor with the pillow under your head.
He adjusts himself between your legs and continues the relentless pounding. The view on top of you makes your pussy flutter again - strands of his silver hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lust dazed eyes fixed on you, pupils dilated you can barely see the ruby red irises, wide shoulders and his whole fucking hot face and body you could stare at forever. But you need to feel his weight on your body.
As if reading your mind, he lies down completely on top of you, using one elbow for support while the other arm sneaks behind you and grabs your butt. "I'm so fucking close." He grunts against your lips, but you're too lost in pleasure to say anything back, only moaning and burying your face in his shoulder as your walls clench around his throbbing dick, the pressure of another orgasm building up.
The hand moves to grab your face, thumb tracing over your cheekbone, the gentle touch contrasting with his ruthless hips, "Let me see you, darling." His voice is both soft and strained.
You're the first one to break the eye contact as another orgasm crashes through you. Sylus' orgasm comes only seconds later, enhancing the intensity as his twitching cock spurts hot liquid inside your pussy.
With the last lazy rolling of his hips, you come down from your own highs, foreheads pressed together as both of you catch your breath. He gives you a soft kiss on the lips, and then just gazes at you with a tenderness you haven't seen before. His fingertips trace over the features of your face. "I hope you can spend the night here."
Of course, you accept the offer. And of course, you didn't sleep at all that night.
⟢ a/n: this has been sat in my drafts for a while and I forgot all about it :c dividers by @/cafekitsune
The doorbell’s chime is what wakes you up from your deep slumber. A groan escapes you as you force your eyes to open, squinting against the sliver of light slanting through the gap in your curtains, blown open at some point during the night by a gentle breeze. You pat around your duvet groggily, in search of your phone, only for the doorbell to ring again.
“Oh, for fucks sake,” you whine. “I’m coming!”
The screen lights up with a single tap, displaying the time and date and a notification for 3 missed alarms. Another, longer groan vibrates in your throat as you stumble out of bed, not even bother to put on your dressing gown or slippers. Instead, you drag your bleary self out into the hallway and trek toward the front door, cursing when you bump your hip on the kitchen door that you’d forgotten to shut last night.
The bell rings again and this time, rolling through your eardrums like a pinball. The deadbolt slides back as you grumble through a yawn. “I’m coming, jeez! Fucking hell, no patience I swear.”
Still muttering curses and rubbing at your eyes, you let out another yawn before squinting in the too-bright light from the corridor outside your apartment. And there, illuminated like an angel that drifted down from the clouds, is Sylus.He’s dressed pristinely, as he always is. Crisp black shirt, pressed perfectly and tucked into a pair of black trousers that hugs his thighs just a smidge too well. You look down at his glossy black shoes and then up at his face, your features still screwed up in a half glare-half pout.
“Oh. Hi.”
He says nothing. Your mind is too foggy to think anything of his moment of stillness. Too exhausted to note the way his beautiful, garnet eyes widen just a little, his brows bouncing up into the tendrils of silver that hang gracefully over his forehead. You’re too busy rubbing your eyes to get them to focus to see the tips of his ears kissed pink.
Later, you will brim with embarrassment. Not because of your sleepy state, since you have a habit of falling asleep on his shoulder whenever you huddle to watch a movie together. Rather, because of your state of dress.
Sylus’ gaze roams your form, drinking - no, gulping down the very sight of you. Rumpled in the most frustratingly cute way. The thin camisole that you slept in is disheveled like your hair, the hem riding up to reveal a sliver of your tummy, one of the straps hanging limply around your bicep. Your shorts are short. Unsurprising, given the time of year. Your legs look soft.
You look soft.
Mussed in a way that he wishes was his own doing.
By the time you’ve finished rubbing at your eyes, he’s composed himself back into his cool, collected self, a slight smirk playing on his lips as your lower lip droops in a pout. “I hope you’re not planning to go on our date like this.”
“Shut up,” you huff. “I haven’t slept properly all week so I missed all of my alarms.”
Concern creases his forehead. “You should’ve told me so we reschedule.”
You shake your head no and cross your arms over your chest, shivering a little. Oh, you really shouldn’t have done that. “It’s fine, just let me go get ready. I’ll be half an hour tops.”
But as you turn to leave, long fingers catch your wrist, wrapping all the way around them with ease. He steps over the threshold of your apartment and kicks the door shut with his heel. “Just a moment, sweetie.”
With a tug, you’re pulled smoothly into him, nose bumping gently against his chest as he snakes his other arms around your waist. He feels warm, the addictive scent of his perfume flooding your senses. You peek up at him and you swear you can feel his heart thumping a little quicker than usual under his shirt. He smiles that special smile of his that only you’ve ever seen, a gentle curve that softens his features and makes his smouldering eyes sparkle like rubies.
And now you realise the state you’re in.
Warm palms wander from the base of your spine, down over the curve of your backside, his fingers smoothing over the skin of your thighs. “I can’t believe you’d answer the door like this,” he tuts, squeezing your flesh gently, just enough to pull a surprised gasp from your lips. A chuckle rumbles in his chest as heat blooms beneath your cheeks. You hate that sound. Hate what it does to your insides. As if he’s caressing you beneath your skin to make you quake like a newborn foal. And then his voice drops to a honeyed whisper in your ear and you hate it even more. “What if it had been someone else instead of me, hm?”
“I forgot to grab my dressing gown,” you argue weakly, fully conscious now of every line of his body pressing against yours.
“Of course you did,” he hums mockingly, trailing his lips over your temple and down to your cheekbone. His lips move against your skin as he speaks, pressing soft but lingering kisses to your cheek that slowly inch closer to your mouth. “You know, I forgot something too.”
“What did you forget?”
Sylus catches your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly. He releases it before soothing you with a tender kiss that makes your head feel fuzzy all over again. Pulling back, he looks at your face, regarding it for a second before he decides to dip back in for another taste of your lips, deeper this time, savouring the first taste of you on his tongue. It strikes flint deep in your gut, small sparks kindling into the beginning of the familiar flames that warm your belly whenever he kisses you like this.
“That.”
You see how his eyes burn like hot coals for the briefest moment, before he’s hoisting you up over his shoulder in one easy movement and striding his way deeper into your apartment. “Ah! Sylus!” you yelp, but he ignores you as he reaches your room, dropping you gently on the unmade bed. A wicked smirk crosses his lips, but his eyes betray the depth of his yearning.
At the Onychinus base, you half-seriously complain about being too tired to move from the couch to bed; the couch is too comfy and your feet ache after the long night.
“Just say the word and I’ll carry you to bed, sweetie.”
Sylus doesn’t do piggyback rides so bridal style it is.
If you ask nicely – or complain some more – he will provide a massage for your aching feet, too.
When he says he will carry you to bed, he means it literally, and there will be no leaving any time soon.
Caleb
When you complain that your feet are starting to ache at the end of the day spent at the zoo, Caleb won’t wait for another word.
“You should’ve said earlier that your feet were starting to hurt. C’mon, pip-squeak. Hop on.”
He uses his Evol to hoist you up and swiftly pulls you against his back.
It’s a familiar manoeuvre to you both since he used to carry you like this when you were kids.
Caleb will make extra sure to point out the similarities between you and the koalas you saw earlier to tease you.
Rafayel
You’re on your usual evening stroll at the Whitesand Bay beach, collecting shells and chatting about everything and nothing.
Rafayel will tell you to hop on when you start yawning. It’s barely half past eight in the evening so you’re not allowed to fall asleep yet.
He will suddenly run into the waves as you scream and laugh on his back.
Soaked but energized by the cool seawater, he helps you down only to spin you around in his arms.
“Whew. Since you stopped yawning and I carried you, it’s your turn to carry me now, cutie.”
Xavier
You take a tumble on a routine mission with Xavier, and the pain makes you visibly jolt when you try to get up.
Xavier will adamantly forbid you from taking a step, instead offering a piggyback ride back to the vehicle.
When you later ask why he didn’t just teleport you both back to the vehicle, he’ll be hard-pressed for an answer.
It will take a good amount of enticing and promises that you won’t laugh at his reason, whatever it may be.
“I had never given you a piggyback ride so I wanted to try it.”
Zayne
Wearing those new shoes for a date night at the museum and a dinner probably wasn’t your brightest idea. But hey, at least you looked really stylish.
Your primary care physician ends up diagnosing you with blisters at the end of the tour.
Since the restaurant isn’t far, a taxi feels unnecessary – but fortunately, Zayne is nothing if not chivalrous.
“Should I give you a piggyback ride since you can’t walk?”
You instantly and eagerly agree to the unexpectedly playful offer, so Zayne can’t back down. He will huff out a chuckle and tell you to hop on.
