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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 …

— [ nsfw ] : threesome, jealousy, smut, fingering, DP

— wc : 2.1k

the n109 zone often hosts these elaborate auction events and y/n is no stranger to it. ever since meeting sylus, she was invited to join him as his plus one on more than one occasion and she was quite used to the way the people acted.

they seemed to enjoy flaunting their wealth and flashing their very expensive watches as if she didn’t have the richest man standing by her side, a man they all feared and well, some admired and some … didn’t have such innocent intentions when thinking about him.

not that y/n cared all that much. she wouldn’t lie and go as far as to say she wasn’t jealous but she was reminded enough times just how loyal the other man was to her and besides, he wasn’t the only one who adored her so much.

taking a seat alone at the bar, she couldn’t help but grin as she called over the bartender. he was immediately interested, sending her flirtatious smiles and making sure to touch her hands on purpose every time he spoke.

“good evening”

“i hope we aren’t interrupting you”

taking a seat on either side of her, sylus glared at the bartender while rafayel leaned in to place a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. she did look very beautiful this evening, dressed in a lovely dress gifted to her by the man himself.

who knew red and purple would go so well on her.

she was also wearing a very expensive piece of jewellery from sylus, a piece everyone in the n109 zone wanted to get their hands on but knew better than to approach her when she was occupied.

“now sweetie, did we leave you alone so you can get up to mischief?” sylus frowns, finally looking down at her. from his vantage point, she could look down the front of her dress and see her pretty lace bra. she really was a pretty little thing.

“am i not allowed to have a drink?” she asks innocently, “you both had business to attend to and i got lonely”

“you’d be a distraction” rafayel takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. sylus places a firm hand on her thigh, gripping just shy of painful. “we didn’t mean to leave you alone darling”

“i was entertained enough” she grins, leaning closer towards sylus when he leans over to take a sip of whatever she had ordered.

“would you like to join us next time?” sylus offers and he grins when her eyes light up. y/n didn’t like to be left out of the loop. she was a fighter and could handle anything.

she was certain her everyday job as a hunter was far more dangerous than dealing with a few idiots who loved to gamble and sylus did teach her everything she needed to know about poker.

he slides his hand further up her thigh and maintains eye contact as he taps the bar. he was ready to have a drink of his own.

“you always smell so good” rafayel whispers, kissing the side of her jaw. he was right, she did but so did he.

“did you miss me that much?” she teases. it had only been an hour since they arrived and their meeting with the owner of this club only lasted 10 minutes. the night was still young.

“i miss you all the time” rafayel says, now lightly grazing his teeth against her pulse point. she huffs but it turns into a soft moan when sylus squeezes her thigh.

“god you’re so beautiful” she hears him groan, taking a sip of the strong liquor he seemed to enjoy. she liked to dress up of course but she loved having all their attention on her even more.

“yeah?” she smiles softly, “you should see the rest of it”

rafayel groans and bites her shoulder in retaliation.

“tease” he scoffs before sitting up right and ordering himself a drink too. y/n was interested to see how long the two of them could wait before they were dragging her back to sylus’ place.

she bit her lip at all the possibilities before leaning forward to finish her own drink. she was a lot more patient than they were and it looked like sylus still wasn’t too pleased with the friendly bartender.

she leans back again and gasps, forgetting about her little gift she prepared. she felt a little more sexier tonight and she had rafayael to thank for that. the dress was long and silky smooth. so soft against her skin and the shoes she wore made her legs look great.

she decided to reward them both for their hard work and added a few extra presents. she started with the perfume. it was their favourite on her and a little body glitter.

then came the very sexy and over priced lingerie she bought with sylus’ card. the man didn’t even ask questions but she knows her saw the price on his phone and he was definitely curious. then the cute little plug she got from sylus. he had it made with a beautiful gem stone, a mix of deep red and purple, no doubt because of their eyes.

he was a sentimental pervert like that and she loved it, even though she pretended to be appalled by it.

normally she liked having one of them prep her. they seemed to enjoy it a lot more than she thought and she let them have their way with her but after a long and tiring week, she wants to let loose and she wasn’t in the mood to wait to be able to take it.

she wanted it the moment she was alone with them again and she always got what she wanted.

“you okay over there sweet thing?” sylus raises a brow. she wasn’t a lightweight and she hardly drank so her being a little flushed had nothing to do with alcohol.

“yeah” she breathes, “just fine”

the plug was a lot bigger than a normal one but then again so was he and rafayael wasn’t exactly on the smaller side either so she had to be prepared.

“you’re squirming a lot” rafayel chuckles, “are you that eager?”

“well.. not exactly” she lies, keeping her voice low, “it’s just a little bigger than the ones you usually make me use”

she sees sylus clench his jaw and rafayel’s eyes widen just a fraction before he narrows them.

“y/n” rafayel whispers, back in her personal space again, “you’re a little tease and you do this shit on purpose”

“is that why you let that fool flirt with you?” sylus asks, “you intend to rile us up this evening?”

“i did no such thing” she lies again, smiling far too sweetly at them both.

“we’re done here” sylus stands, “put it on my tab”

“y-yes sir!”

sylus scoffs and takes her hand.

“you want a fucker who can’t even speak properly to fuck you like i do?” he laughs but it doesn’t sound good, “i’ll show you”

sylus gently pushes her into the back of the limo as rafayel climbs in the other side. she tries to hide her excitement as rafayael tells the driver to wait outside.

“i hate to ruin this dress darling but we can always replace it” rafayel says before he’s tearing the material off her body. it should not be as hot as it is but she moans anyway, grabbing onto his shoulder as sylus tosses the remaining pieces of silk somewhere behind him.

they both take a moment to appreciate the lingerie set. it would be a shame to ruin it and sylus aches to rip it off her body but he can also tell she put a lot of thought into their gift tonight.

“all this, just for us baby?” he asks, kissing her neck as he cups her breasts. the lace feels so good against her skin and she moans, legs spreading on instinct when rafayael moves to sit between them.

“you look good” rafayel smiles, it’s a genuine soft smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the situation but she doesn’t care. she’s happy they like it.

“i do love what’s underneath way more so..” he grins, sliding the panties off slowly before shoving them into his back pocket. normally she’d call him a pervert but she’s too focused on the way she’s staring at her pussy.

nestled between her wet folds is the plug. she must’ve been a little uncomfortable and horny since she put it inside her and the images of her fingering herself in nothing but the lacy black bra and high heels has him twitching in his pants.

sylus reaches down and brushes against her clit. kissing her before she can moan too loudly again. they were selfish that way, not wanting anyone else to hear her pretty sounds.

“fuck” rafayel bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls the plug out slowly before pushing it back in. they don’t seem to mind the mess she’s making on both their pants and when she hears a zipper, she squeezes tightly around the toy.

“there will be no taking it slow” sylus tells her, “you’ll take us both and then when we’re home, we’ll take our time okay?”

she didn’t know sylus to be this impatient. he was usually the one teasing her and riling her up until she was begging.

“he asked you a question my love” rafayel says, “you remember your words don’t you?”

“yes” she gasps, “i do”

“good girl” he praises, “let me test you out first”

she nods, gripping sylus as rafayel pulls the toy out. it should be dirty the way he puts it in his house but she moans at the sight.

“fucker” sylus chuckles.


sylus uses the hand not playing with her breast to spread her folds for rafayel. he slips 3 fingers inside her and it’s still too tight. he works her open like that for a while, wanting to make her cum at least once before they fucked her.

she was always their first priority and they’d never purposely hurt her unless it was something she asked her.

“please” y/n begs, back arching as he works a 4th finger into her. she clamps down around his fingers as she cums. rafayel kisses her as she comes down from her high.

she isn’t sure when it happened but she feels herself being lifted up and then she’s sinking down onto sylus. it burns so good and she cries out in shock. she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm but she hardly has time to breathe before rafayel is sliding in with him.

it’s so deliciously tight that she finds herself cumming again just from that. she almost screams but sylus is quick to kiss her, holding her waist.

“fuck” sylus groans, “fuck baby, stop squeezing like that”

“sorry” she whines, eyes crossing as she grabs his shoulders. she’s sure that’s going to leave a nasty mark but he never seems to mind, often encouraging it.

they didn’t do this often. none of them wanting to hurt her or push her beyond her limits. they didn’t mind taking their sweet time playing with her body but they were all a little too worked up and she was preparing for it tonight.

rafayel bites down on her shoulder, holding onto her waist just above where sylus’ hands are and she should feel a little ashamed but she doesn’t.

“please move” she begs, moving her hips on her own.

“dirty girl” rafayel whispers, thrusting very slowly as both him and sylus find the perfect rhythm inside her.

she hides her face in the crook of sylus’ neck as the begin to fuck into her harder and faster. she can feel the limo moving with them and she has a little bit of sense to be embarrassed. it wasn’t like they parked far from the entrance and the driver was right outside.

“so good” sylus says right into her ear, “you make us feel so fucking good baby, just you”


she bites down onto his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. it feel good, better than usual and she wonders if it’s because they’re both so worked up.

rafayel spanks her hard before gripping her fat of her ass. he could never get used to being inside y/n, even if sylus is here with them. it feels good, everything about her was just so perfect.

“i’m close” she warns, eyes squeezing shut at how quickly she seems to be reaching her peak tonight.

she doesn’t see them sharing a look over her shoulder before they both stop moving.

“wh-why?” she cries out, looking up so fast that she almost gets whiplash.

“you’re just so pretty like this” rafayel sighs, thrusting lightly, “so we’re going to start again, be good”

she wants to protest but they start up a new rhythm, slower than the last but still so good it makes her toes curl.

“there you go sweetheart” sylus moans into her ear, “just like that”

BET | love and deepspace

⟡ tags : underground boxer! sylus + reader — sylus isn’t afraid of going all in when it comes to you.

ミ★ content warning : fem! reader uses she/her prns, mentions of blood & injuries, mentions of female anatomy as well as male anatomy, oral fem! receive, gentle to rough sex, pet names like bby, dove, kitten, honey, 5.0K WORD COUNT

you step into the dimly lit underground boxing gym, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cigarette smoke, and leather. it’s a seedy place, hidden in the heart of the city’s most notorious neighborhood, where the law doesn’t dare to tread. the crowd tonight is a mix of rough characters - bikers with gang patches on their jackets, local gangsters with glares and expensive watches, shady high-rollers in suits looking to place big bets on the illegal fights.

as you navigate through the throng of people, you spot him in the corner, preparing for his match. sylus - the man who happened to be your ex-boyfriend . . oh, and only the most feared bare-knuckled boxer in the underground circuit. he was a sight to behold, all rippling muscles and newfound tattoos, with messy silver hair that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. you watch as he methodically wraps his hands, his intense red eyes focused on the task.

your history with sylus is complicated, to say the least. you met him two years ago at a biker rally, drawn to his bad-boy charm and undeniable charisma. he swept you off your feet with his daredevil antics on his custom harley and his smooth talking ways. but sylus’s world was always filled with danger, violence, and illegal activities. as the leader of onychinus, the city’s most notorious motorcycle club, he ran an empire built on illicit evol weapons, protocore deals, and underground fighting.

at first, the thrill of it all was intoxicating - the adrenaline rush of riding on the back of his bike, the wild parties at the onychinus clubhouse, watching him dominate in the ring. but as time went on, you grew tired of the constant chaos and the fear that one day, sylus’s risky lifestyle would catch up to him. you wanted stability, a future - things that sylus scoffed at. ‘i live in the moment, babe,’ he would say with that infuriating smirk. ‘and right now, all i want is you.’

but it wasn’t enough. six months ago, after a particularly brutal fight that left sylus battered and bleeding, you reached your breaking point. you told him you couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore, that you needed more than he could give you. sylus, stubborn and proud as ever, refused to change. ‘this is who i am,’ he growled. ‘so take it or leave it.’ so you left, walking away from the man you loved, determined to build a life free from the violence and uncertainty.

now, seeing him again after all this time, you feel a mix of emotions stirring within you. anger, hurt, frustration . . . but also a undeniable pull of attraction and longing. as if sensing your presence, sylus glances up, his red eyes locking with yours. a slow, confident smirk spreads across his handsome face as he saunters over to you, the crowd parting before him.

“well, well. look who it is,” he drawls, looking you up and down appreciatively. “didn’t expect to see you here tonight, [★]. come to watch me dominate the ring as usual?”

you scoff and cross your arms, determined not to let him see how much his presence affects you. “i’m not here for you, sylus. i’m just here to collect on some bets.”

he chuckles, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “sure you are, sweetheart. keep telling yourself that.”

sylus takes a step closer, invading your personal space. he smells like musk and sandalwood, a scent that brings back memories of stolen moments and passionate nights. “i miss you, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “everything’s been so boring without you around to keep me on my toes.”

you try to stay strong, but you can feel your resolve wavering. damn him and his charm. “i’m not here to rehash the past, sylus. what do you want?”

his eyes glint with a challenge. “make a bet with me - when i win the championship belt tonight, you give me another shot. a chance to prove that we’re meant to be together.”

you laugh in disbelief. “you can’t be serious. we’re done, sy. i’m not falling for your games again.”

“who says it’s a game?” he counters, his expression turning serious. “i know i messed up, [★]. i wasn’t ready before, but i am now. i want you back in my life. i need you.”

you hesitate, torn between your lingering feelings and your better judgment. sylus is a force of nature, wild and untamed. being with him is like dancing on the edge of a razor - thrilling but dangerous. can you really risk your heart again?

“and what do i get if you lose?” you ask, buying yourself time to think.

sylus flashes you a cocky grin. “you know i never lose, kitten. but if by some miracle i do . . i’ll leave you alone. for good. unless you decide you can’t resist me and come crawling back.”

you snort at his arrogance, even as a part of you wonders if he might be right. sylus has always had a hold on you, an undeniable magnetism that draws you in against your will, “fine,” you hear yourself saying, almost as if from a distance. “you’ve got a deal.”

his grin widens, triumphant. “get ready to come back to where you belong, [★] - with me.”

the crowd starts to get louder, chanting and cheering as the lights flicker and dim. it’s almost time for the main event - sylus’s championship fight. he starts to walk towards the ring, but pauses and turns back to face you.

“watch closely now, honey,” he says with a wink. “i’m about to show you what you’ve been missing.”

with that, he strides away, his movements graceful and predatory. you watch him go, your heart pounding in your chest.

what had you gotten yourself into?

as the crowd’s chanting reaches a fevered pitch, sylus steps into the ring, the picture of coiled power and raw aggression. his opponent, a hulking brute known as ‘the mauler’, glares at him from across the mat, pounding his meaty fists together in a show of intimidation. but sylus just smirks, unfazed. he’s taken down bigger, badder fighters than this guy.

the referee calls them to the center, going over the rules - not that there are many in the underground circuit. “no biting, no eye gouging, fight ends with a knockout or tapout. keep it clean . . ish. touch gloves and come out swinging!”

sylus bumps his taped fists against the mauler’s, staring him down with those intense red eyes. then they’re backing away, the air crackling with tension as the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

the bell sounds and the mauler charges forward with a roar, swinging wildly. but sylus is too quick, too skilled. he slips and weaves, dodging the heavy blows, letting his opponent overextend himself. sylus fires off a rapid jab - cross combo, snapping the mauler’s head back and drawing first blood from his nose.

the big man snarls and redoubles his efforts, trying to use his size to his advantage, to trap sylus against the ropes and pummel him. but sylus is like smoke, always just out of reach. he targets the mauler’s weak spots with surgical precision - a knife-hand to the solar plexus to crush his wind, a heel kick to the floating rib, an elbow smash to the jaw.

each blow lands with devastating impact, chipping away at the mauler’s formidable stamina and sending the crowd into a frenzy. they chant sylus’s name like a war cry, thrilling at the sight of the chiseled, tattooed demigod of the ring in his element.

you watch in breathless awe, pulse racing, body heating. damn him. he’s magnificent like this - a perfect fighting machine, all fluid grace and controlled violence. it’s enough to make you forget why you walked away, to let yourself imagine those powerful hands on your body once more . .

a pained grunt snaps you back to the moment as the mauler finally lands a solid hit, a haymaker to sylus’s ribs that sends him staggering. your heart leaps into your throat. but sylus just shakes it off with a feral grin, spitting blood and bouncing on his toes as he beckons for more.

they trade blows in a brutal, lightning-fast exchange, neither giving quarter. the mauler is flagging but still dangerous, pure grit keeping him on his feet. sylus bleeds from a cut over his eye but barely seems to feel it, an unholy light in his gaze as he scents victory.

he presses his advantage with a dizzying flurry of strikes, driving the mauler back . . back . . until he’s pinned against the turnbuckle. sylus hammers his torso without mercy - left hook to the liver, right uppercut to the chin, again, again. the mauler’s knees buckle and sylus steps back, letting him crumple to the canvas.

the crowd erupts as the ref counts it out. at “ten,” sylus throws his hands up in triumph, basking in the adulation. his eyes find yours across the room and the heat in them makes your breath stop. in three long strides he’s out of the ring and hauling you into his arms, crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

for a moment, you forget where you are. forget the mob of rowdy spectators whistling and catcalling. forget every reason you swore you'd never let him back into your heart. all you know is the demanding press of his lips, the steel - cable strength of his blood-slicked body, the intoxicating rush of his victory and your surrender . . .

“looks like i won our bet, babe,” he says smugly, smirking down at you. “hope you’re ready to pay up.”

you scowl, hating how easily he affected you. “one. drink. that was the deal.”

sylus touches his tongue to the seam of his split lip, gaze roving hungrily over you. “oh, i’m just getting started.”

he drags you through the throng of well-wishers and sycophants, his grip on your hand unbreakable. outside, the night air is cool against your overheated skin, charged with tension and the distant growl of engines.

sylus leads you to his pride and joy - that sleek demon of a harley crouched by the curb. the way he straddles the throbbing machine is blatantly sexual, all hard muscles and black leather. he jerks his head at the space behind him.

“c’mon - you know the drill, hop on.”

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

then, sylus kicks off and you’re flying, the city lights a neon blur as he opens the throttle. your pulse pounds in time with the roar of the pipes, excitement and desire a heady drug in your veins. by the time he screeches to a stop outside a dingy saloon on the outskirts of town, you’re dizzy with need.

inside, the bar is a den of sin and swagger, all scuffed leather and polished chrome and clinking bottles. eyes follow sylus with a mix of fear and reverence as he stalks to a booth in the back, one possessive hand at the small of your back.

he orders a whiskey, neat, and your favorite poison, not bothering to ask what you want. at your raised eyebrow, he shrugs.

“i remember.”

two words. but the weight of history and unspoken emotion behind them squeezes your heart. your fingers tremble slightly as you raise your glass in a mock toast.

“to your victory. and my reckless wager.”

sylus’ gaze is molten as he clinks his tumbler against yours, gaze holding you captive over the rim as he tosses back the smooth liquid. the slight burn of the alcohol is nothing compared to the smolder of his stare.

“what are we doing, sy?” you ask into the charged quiet, liquid courage loosening your tongue. “why now, after all this time?”

a muscle ticks in his jaw. he looks down, spinning his empty glass, broad shoulders rigid with tension.

“i fucked up.”

his voice is low, raw with a vulnerability you've never heard from him. your breath snags.

“i thought i needed the rush, the rep, the respect. and yeah, maybe i did, for a while. but none of it meant shit without you.” slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he reaches for your hand — lacing his scarred, tape-wrapped fingers with yours, “i was a coward. i pushed you away because i was scared shitless of how bad i wanted you - needed you. needed your strength, your goodness. you made me want to be better. and it truly fucking terrified me.”

his grip tightens, almost painfully. anchoring you to him.

“losing you . . it broke me, [★]. made me realize that the only thing i’m actually afraid of is living without you.”

sylus swallows hard, his throat working. when he looks up at you, his eyes are blazing with fierce intent.

“i know i don’t deserve another shot. i know i need to earn back your trust. but i swear to whoever may hold my fate, if you give me a chance, i will spend every waking day proving that you’re my whole damn world.”

your heart is a wild bird in your chest, frantic and yearning. you search his face, finding only sincerity and aching tenderness beneath the bruises and blood.

“i never stopped loving you,” you confess, voice breaking. “no matter how hard i tried to hate you . . i couldn’t let you go.”

sylus makes a rough sound, halfway between a growl and a groan. then he’s kissing you, deep and urgent and saying everything he can't put into words. you fall into him, all hunger and desperation, the levee finally breaking on the flood of your need.

“take me home,” you gasp into his mouth, fingers curling in the sweat-damp silk of his hair.

“i thought you’d never ask, dove.”

the anticipation is a living thing as sylus speeds through the lamp-lit streets, the throaty growl of his harley between your thighs a heady reminder of the man commanding the machine. by the time he pulls into the cavernous garage beneath his loft, your body is humming, every nerve ending alight with need.

sylus is on you the moment you dismount, crowding you back against the rough brick wall, his large frame enveloping yours. his kiss is searing, possession and passion, strong hands gripping your hips as he grinds into you. you moan into his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his leather-clad shoulders, craving more.

“been dreaming about this,” he rasps against your lips, his voice like gravel and whiskey, igniting heat in your veins. “having you back in my arms, in my bed. fuck, [★], need you so bad it's like a sickness.”

“then take me,” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant hunger shining in those crimson eyes. “i’m here, sylus. i’m yours.”

something animalistic unfurls behind his gaze, a primal sort of satisfaction that has you clenching with want. in a burst of movement, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lean hips as he strides purposefully to the industrial elevator that will carry you to his domain.

the short ride up is a haze of frantic kisses and roving hands, two years’ worth of pent-up longing seeking outlet. by the time sylus kicks open the door to his loft, you’re both panting, clothes askew and lips kiss-bruised. he carries you straight to the bedroom, a cavern of shadows and silver moonlight spilling across rumpled black silk sheets. when he lays you down in the center of that decadent expanse, the reverence in his touch steals your breath. his battle-scarred fingers shake slightly as they skim over your curves, learning you anew.

“so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, crimson gaze tracking hungrily over your body like he's committing every detail to memory. “can’t believe i almost lost this . . lost you . .”

“never,” you whisper fiercely, reaching up to cup his angular jaw. “i’m here, sylus. right where i belong. and i’m not going anywhere.”

he turns his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm, the heat of his breath making you shiver as his lips graze your fingers — and ever so gently, he bites. then slowly, deliberately, he divests you of your clothes, unwrapping you like a gift. you echo his actions, baring him inch by glorious inch to your avid gaze.

sylus’s body is a work of art, all chiseled muscle and inked skin, a roadmap of violence and survival. you take your time tracing the ridges and hollows, the scars and scrolling tattoos, familiarizing yourself with this new landscape of him. he shudders beneath your questing touch, eyes fluttering shut, a low rumble building in his chest.

“[★],” he grits out, and fuck, how you’ve missed the way he says your name, guttural and raw, like a prayer and a plea. “please, baby . . need to taste you.”

“yes,” you hiss, already aching, empty. “please, sylus.”

granted, he descends on you like a man starved, that talented mouth charting a path of fire over your sensitized flesh. he maps every curve and valley with lips and teeth and tongue, each nip and suck and lap stoking the inferno building in your core.

when he finally settles between your trembling thighs, the first bold stroke of his tongue punches the air from your lungs, your spine arching involuntarily. he groans in appreciation, strong hands splaying your thighs wider, opening you fully to his voracious appetite.

“fuck, i missed this,” he rasps against your slick folds, the vibration of his words making you keen. “missed the way you taste, the sounds you make when i devour this sweet cunt. could feast on you for hours, little one . .”

you whimper breathlessly, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in his silver hair, holding him to you. sylus takes the encouragement for what it is, sealing his mouth over your aching flesh and suckling greedily. stars erupt in your eyes, pleasure rioting through your veins as he works you ruthlessly, adding clever fingers to his oral assault. he curls them just right, rubbing that secret spot that has you seeing god, all while his wicked tongue paints obscene promises on your clit.

“s-sy, fuck!” you wail, back bowing, thighs clamping around his ears as he drives you higher and higher. “oh god, yes, just like that! don’t stop, please, i’m gonna’ cum . . fuck, baby-”

he doubles his efforts, a man possessed, growling his own pleasure into your core. “that’s it, my love,” he urges gutturally between long, lewd licks. “go ahead and give it to me, wanna’ feel you drench my face, want you gushing on my tongue . .”

his filthy encouragement hurls you over the edge with a strangled scream, release slamming into you like a freight train. you shatter spectacularly, pulsing and clenching around his thrusting fingers, slick gushing into his eager mouth as he works you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

when you finally drift back down to earth, aftershocks still rippling through you, sylus is grinning up at you wolfishly from between your thighs, his beard glistening obscenely with your essence. “fucking incredible,” he rumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your still-twitching center. “could watch you fall apart on my tongue forever and never get tired of it.”

“get up here,” you demand breathlessly, tugging him to you. he comes willingly, settling his considerable bulk over you, caging you beneath miles of warm, hard muscle.

you claim his mouth in a filthy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. he responds with matching hunger, hips rocking into the cradle of your thighs, the thick ridge of his erection a brand against your sensitive flesh.

“please,” you whimper into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “need you inside me, sylus. been too long, i want it . .”

“fuck,” he snarls, the words seeming to snap his restraint. “far too long, honey. be patient, you know i will.” slowly, giving you time to adjust, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes forward, gasping harshly at the tight, wet heat of you enveloping him. “goddamn,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forehead pressed to yours. “silly me. i almost forgot how fucking perfect you feel. like coming home.”

“yes,” you moan, reveling in the familiar stretch and burn of his thick length entering your body. “missed this so much . . missed you . . love you, sylus, so fucking much.”

“i love you too,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before surging back in, starting a deep, rolling rhythm that has your toes curling. “i never stopped, never will. you’re only for me, [★]. only me.”

you lose yourselves to the timeless dance, bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, rediscovering every perfect angle and hidden sweet spot. sylus takes his time, building you back up with long, measured strokes, whispering words of worship into your skin, branding you with his love.

“so good,” he groans, hitching your leg higher on his hip, sinking impossibly deeper. “could stay buried in this tight little pussy forever. never wanna leave.”

“don’t.” you gasp, fingers clawing at his flexing back, desperate for more. “stay — harder, sylus, fuck me harder. wanna’ be able to feel it tomorrow.”

with a low, approving growl, sylus complies, snapping his hips faster, driving into your yielding body with the piston precision of the machine he rides. the wet, obscene slap of flesh fills the room, punctuated by your escalating moans and cries.

“i’m not gonna last,” he warns, rhythm faltering. “too good, too fucking good. tell me you’re close, baby . .”

“s-so close,” you pant, the coil in your belly wound to the breaking point. “just a little more - fuck, right there, sy . . o-oh my —”

sylus hammers into you, grunting with the effort, sweat sheening his skin. he wedges a hand between your straining bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles. “cum on my cock,” he demands, voice strained. “let me feel that pussy grip me, milk me . .” his words are your undoing, hurling you into oblivion with a keening wail. your inner muscles seize around him, rippling and fluttering, trying to pull him deeper as you drench his driving length in release.

“fuck, yes!” sylus roars, pistoning wildly, chasing his own end. “gonna’ - ah, shit, kitty, i’m cumming!” his climax overtakes him with a force that borders on violence, his cock jerking and pulsing as he spills himself deep in your still-spasming core, painting your inner walls with thick ropes of his seed. you mewl weakly in blissed-out overstimulation, aftershocks rolling through you as he fills you to the brim.

finally spent, sylus collapses onto you, taking care not to crush you with his bulk. you cuddle as sweat and other fluids cool on your skin, hearts gradually slowing in tandem. he’s still stuffed deep inside you and you clench involuntarily around his now-softening length, loving the way he groans, overused nerves sparking. “keep that up and we’ll be going again real soon,” he warns playfully, nuzzling into your neck.

you huff a laugh, carding your fingers through his damp hair. “yeah, yeah,” you tease. “we’ve got time now, sylus. all the time in the world. i’m not going anywhere.”

he raises his head to look at you, crimson eyes soft and full of wonder. “damn right you’re not,” he rumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m never letting you out of my sight again. you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

“eh, could be worse,” you quip, grinning up at him. “i think i can handle being stuck with you. it’s only forever, after all.”

“forever,” sylus echoes solemnly, like an oath. “i like the sound of that. you and me. binded as one.”

“ . . . and loving each other stupid every chance we get,” you finish impishly, wiggling your eyebrows.

he barks a laugh, the joyful, uninhibited sound making your heart soar. “oh, that is definitely part of the plan,” he assures you, a wicked gleam in his eye. “gotta’ make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“mmhm, that we do,” you agree readily, warmth suffusing you. “better get started on that. forever’s not getting any longer.”

“as my lady commands,” sylus murmurs, capturing your mouth again as he begins to stir inside you once more.

and as passion ignites anew, the promise of countless tomorrows enfolding you like a benediction, you know this is just the beginning of the ups and downs.

because this love, tempered by loss and longing, by time and truth . . it’s unbreakable. a bond that even the harshest trials will only serve to strengthen.

and with sylus by your side, his heart in your keeping as surely as yours rests in his scarred and steady hands . .

. . you know you can weather any storm.

forever, and then some.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent. tagging @ramonathinks <3

Hi there, I dunno of you take requests but I'd like to request Sylus with MC who's love language is biting. And MC would also totally leave marks. And Sylus would think of his own payback for her everytime.

red marker

<sylus x fem!reader>

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, biting kink, backshots, pussy eating, breeding kink, size kink

w/c: 1.2K

a/n: thank you for my very first fic request here ❤️ sylus is definitely a biter (his little fangs!!) just wanna say I have plenty of skin for him to take a chomp off 😛

Sylus stares at the mirror, specifically staring down at the whole garden of love bites you’ve planted him with. He knows you’ve been biting him when he’s fucking you, but he doesn’t realise how much you’ve been taking bites out of him like he’s strawberry shortcake. 

Well, not that he minded. The thought of you thinking of marking him as yours secretly makes his heart flutter.

So he should return the favour, right?

Sylus takes in the scent of his shampoo on you, his eyes screwed shut as slowly breaths pull out of him. His palm is warm against the small of your back. You smell so fucking good just filled of him. It reminds him that you’re his. 

And even with his cock sheathed deep inside of you right now, he still thinks this isn’t enough. 

While swimming in his thoughts, he feels a sharp pain scatter on his shoulder blade. It barely lasts before it switches to pleasure when he realises that you’re biting onto his skin again. 

“Sweetie, aren’t you enjoying this too much?”, his low groans sending goosebumps across your skin. 

His fingers brush your hair away, his attention aimed on your neck, before he latches his lips, then his teeth, testing your pain threshold, ready to release at any sign of discomfort that you give. 

But a soft moan and your pussy tightening against his cock is what you return him. And Sylus can’t help but sink his teeth a little deeper while he forces you to fuck his cock. 

Your lewd cries grow louder whenever you lift yourself off his cock and impale yourself once more, and your lips have completely left his skin. 

Sylus presses his lips on your chest, cupping both tits with his large and slender fingers, pinching your nipples, all while grazing his teeth and licking your tits. It drives you nuts, and he figures that from the way cream is just coating his dick while he makes you ride him. 

He nibbles against the soft skin of your breast, then sucking the tender flesh, making sure he sees a soft bruise bloom on your chest. And he repeats it, over and over again, until you completely come undone on his dick, your pussy fluttering and leaking all over him, and your thighs shaking from being forced to cum all over his thick cock. 

He pauses to look up at you. His hand now is at the nape of your neck. 

“Did you cum all over my dick?” He asks, watching you nod your head shakily, the remnants of your orgasm still lingering in your spent pussy. 

Your mind is still hazy, but you still answer him, “yeah.”

“Good girl”, he chuckles. “But we’re not done yet.”

Sylus lifts you off him, and he’s already missing your warm tightness. Nonetheless, he has other plans. He can be patient. 

With much ease, consisting of a whole lot of using his Evol, you’re settled with his face between your legs. 

You’re about to protest about him not cumming yet, but when his tongue flicks against your wet clit, your mind shuts off, leaving behind trails of cries from overstimulation.

He switches between fucking his tongue into your pussy and then trailing his lips to the soft and thick flesh of your inner thighs—his actual target. 

You jolt at the sensation of his teeth grazing against your flesh again, a nice wave of slick slowly spilling out of your pathetic hole. 

Sylus makes sure he’s had his fill, and that’s filling your thighs with his bite marks and love bites until he’s satisfied. 

“Dirty kitten, getting off from being bitten, hmm?” The male in between your legs teases. He only receives a whine in response. 

Sylus quickly realises why you enjoy marking him so much—he wants to mark you all over as his too. He could get hooked onto this. 

He doesn’t forget to switch to the other side, sending your mind into an overstimulated frenzy when it’s as if he’s ready to have you for his next meal. 

Bruises and bite marks slowly fill up the empty spaces of your skin, with Sylus enjoying your sobs while your pussy only grows wetter from the sting. 

“Sylus, I’m sensitive-“, you whimper, your hands messing up his pale locks. Sylus casts you. an amused expression before he decides to have mercy on you, and pulls away. Sylus shifts to meet your eye level, pulling you into a dizzy kiss. 

His palms slide down your body, he leans into you, but he doesn’t press his weight onto you. 

“Turn around for me, kitten.” His whispers, and you do, soft gasps leaving your lips when you arch your back against him, feeling his thick cock rest against your creamy folds. 

“That’s it”, he encourages with praise, his hand adjusting his cock to line up right to your pulsing cunt before he pushes himself in, stuffing you full with a strained groan. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

He hears your quiet whimpers, and this time, he presses his body weight onto you. His fingers lift your chin up so you’re forced to face Sylus from the side. 

When he pulls out and thrusts into you from behind, it makes your thighs tremble from the sheer pleasure. 

The pace he’s setting is making you see stars, and when his lips are on your shoulder once more and he’s sinking his teeth into your skin, you’re losing it. 

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body completely submitting to the pleasure that Sylus is sinking you in. 

“Does this feel good, kitten?” He asks while another smack echoes in his room, his cock railed into you for the nth time.

Attempts to process his words are futile, especially not when he’s fucking your thoughts out of you. 

“So good. So fucking amazing”, you’re borderline sobbing, unintentionally pushing yourself back to make sure he’s making you full to the brim from every stroke 

While he’s drowning you in pleasure, Sylus makes sure he leaves a couple of marks down your neck to the best of his abilities. 

“I’m gonna cum”, your strained voice catches his attention, along with the way your pussy is squeezing Sylus’s dick. He groans at the sensation, his thrusts growing more heavy and desperate. Undoubtedly, you feel like fucking heaven on his cock. 

And when he feels you let go on his cock, his grip around on your neck tightens. He’s definitely not lasting any longer. Not when you’re luring him down with you like this. He wants so badly to ruin you, bring you down with him, mark every bare skin of yours possible.

So he does.

Sylus makes sure his final bite for the night blooms a gorgeous shade of wine on your bare skin, while his cum fills you up all the way, enjoying the way you’re shaking and whining. 

The corner of Sylus’s lips curl into a smirk while he watches you slowly drift into your slumber, your body inching close to him to catch his warmth. His gaze trails down to your chest, admiring his work of art—his bites imprinted across your neck, shoulders, chest, and especially around your nipples. He knows he’s ready for a scolding if you find out, but Sylus gets it now—there’s nothing more beautiful and satisfying as reminding you that you belong to him. 

calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw) pt 3 - finale

wc: 2.2k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, thigh fucking (intercrural), orgasm denial, penis in vagina sex, dom!sylus sub!mc, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, use of Evol, light choking, mating press, doggy, full nelson, creampie brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // recommended to read part 1 here and part 2 here for context

It feels like years. Sylus wakes you up with a mouth on your cunt, licking wetly at your pussy and sucking your clit into his mouth, eyes glittering with smugness as he stares up at you from between your thighs. He moves back the moment you arch your back, fingers winding into his hair in a weak attempt to hold him in place—he doesn’t let you cum.

In the shower, he slides his cock between your soaped up thighs and fucks you like that, the head of his cock slamming into your swollen clit with every swing of his hips. You’re gasping, hands scrabbling for purchase on the tiles while he brings the showerhead down to spray at your clit. Sylus’s other hand is squeezing your tit, fingers pulling sharply at your nipple and making you cry out. You’re close, fuck, you’re close. 

At the dining table, you’re on his lap. His cock is trapped under your panties, sitting against your wet cunt like a pulsing rod of heat. It slides against the seam of your pussy every time he leans forward to scoop something off the plate. Sylus feeds you, laughing lowly when you can barely stomach more than a few mouthfuls. You’re more focused on other things, like the heat coiling in your gut like a snake about to lunge at its prey. The lips of your cunt are spread around his cock, your hole clenching desperately against the base of his cock. 

Again, and again, Sylus brings you to the brink. He holds you there, like he has a hand on your throat, choking the orgasm off right at the tip. He keeps you right on edge, until your body is so overworked and so sensitive that even a brush of his shoulder against yours is enough to make you jump, pussy tightening at the slightest touch no matter how much you try to remind yourself that Sylus won’t let you cum. 

It makes you irritable. You want the high, the suffocating heat of something buried in your sweet cunt, something thick for your to grip onto as you shudder through your orgasm, but Sylus dangles it just out of reach. You end up glaring at him more often than not, turning away to huff at the mere sight of him. 

But Sylus just laughs, one hand reaching out to reel you in, and proceeds to make you lose your mind before letting you go. 

“Sy–lus,” you choke out, fingers clutching weakly at the bedsheets. The fabric is completely crumpled beneath your grip and the pillow below your abdomen is soaked with sweat. Your legs feel numb, knees bent with your ass up as Sylus fucks into you with four fingers. He sets a harsh pace, licking at your clit as he slams his fingers into your cunt, hitting your g-spot with devastating accuracy. 

You’re going to tip over the edge. His tongue laps at your clit, lips closing around the swollen bud to suck on it harshly with a particularly vicious thrust of his fingers—it forces you up along the bed, hips jerking back to sit on his fingers before jolting away, as if your body can’t decide whether it wants to chase that pleasure or escape from it. 

“G’na cum,” you pant, barely getting the words out with how breathless you are. It’s a warning in every sense of the word—you think you might actually kill him if he stops halfway, but at the same time, something deep inside you wants to let him know you’re close. To let him know that if he’s going to stop, he needs to stop now or your mind will go blank from the way he’s sucking on your clit. 

Sylus gives one last kiss to your clit, teeth scraping briefly against the oversensitive nub before pulling away. It makes you yelp, the pleasure bordering on pain, but it’s so good, so fucking good that you can’t help but push your hips back in a bid to chase after his mouth. 

“Can’t have that happen, sweetie. Not yet,” he murmurs. But his fingers are still going, crooking inside your cunt and making you clench up every time they scrape against your walls. He’s fucking you like he intends to make you gush, like he’s ready to watch your slick drip out of your pussy, down his wrist, all the way to your forearm. Those clever fingers are punishing, demanding as they fuck into you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head when your pussy trembles once, twice—

Sylus withdraws his fingers in a flash. Your cunt clenches on nothing, hips squirming as you try to cling to his fingers even as he draws them out of you. There’s a loud, wailing sound in the room, and it takes you a good few seconds to realise it’s coming from your mouth. You’re sobbing, face buried in the sheets, gasping for your life at the orgasm that was ripped from your fingertips. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he gets to tease you like this, to bring you to the edge so many times and leave you wanting—it’s not fair that he gets to play your body like a fiddle, making you sore and achy and so desperate for cock that you barely recognise your face in the mirror. It’s not fucking fair—

“Easy, dollface,” Sylus laughs, one hand scruffing you on the back of your neck, fingers and thumb wrapping around your throat like a necklace. “Open up.”

And he slides in, home, all the way until his cockhead pushes against the opening of your cervix. The slide is wet from how soaked you are, and you’re tight despite how he fingered you for what felt like hours. His cock sinks into you, and you distantly hear the low groan he lets out as he fucks in, in, in until his hips slam against your ass and he just stays there for a moment, luxuriating in the feel of your throbbing cunt closing around his dick. 

You don’t make a sound. Your mouth is open, chest tight as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your limbs twitch, back arching as your hips move of their own accord, spasming around Sylus’ fat cock. It burns, like a fire eating you alive from the inside, so explosive it hurts. 

You cum from the feeling of his cock fully buried in your cunt, pussy gushing wetly and soaking the sheets. You shake apart, senses dulled as your entire world shrinks down to your cunt, your twitching clit, your pussy clinging desperately to the stiff cock inside you, stuffing you full. 

“Good girl,” Sylus says breathlessly from above you, fingers tightening around your throat. “I told you I’d make it good.”

The sound you make is indescribable. Sylus lets you ride it out on his cock, groaning whenever your cunt pulsates around his length. Right when your body is about to relax, to come down from it’s high, Sylus pulls out and slams back into you.

You shriek, entire body jolting from the electrifying burst of overstimulation that flashes white-hot through your body. 

Sylus doesn’t let up. He fucks you hard and dirty, like he’s putting all the pent-up energy from not being in your pussy for the past twenty-four hours to good use. He fucks like he’s desperate to bury himself in your cunt, to carve out a space for his cock that your pussy will remember for centuries even when he’s not inside you. 

The punishing pace shocks you right into your next orgasm. The pleasure never stops, just builds and builds until you’re pushed off the edge again, falling right into the throes of your second orgasm. 

“S-Sylus!” You cry out, voice hoarse from overuse. “Please, please—”

“I’ve got you,” Sylus growls. His voice is low, tight from exertion, but his hips don’t stop moving. His cock saws into you, the cockhead hitting your cervix and scrapping against your g-spot with such devastating accuracy that you can’t help how loud you get when you cum again, pussy squirting furiously around the hard cock inside you. “Again, sweetie.”

“C-can’t,” you gasp, desperately sucking in mouthfuls of air despite the grip on your neck. Sylus’s other hand is on your hip, holding you firmly in place as he fucks into your cunt, and you can hear him chuckle at the way your pussy drips slick. 

“What a messy girl,” he croons, slamming his cock deep into your pussy. It makes you shiver, overstimulation mixing with pleasure as it crawls all over your body, setting your nerve-endings aflame. “One more time.”

You exhale, body spasming as it obeys him. Your pussy clenches around him so tightly it makes him groan, and you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams when you cum again. 

This time, he fucks you slower, really letting you shake and shiver through the aftershocks of this orgasm. You’re a quiet, whining mess when he flips you over, cock still buried inside you, and you can barely force your eyes open to look him in the eye. 

“Cute,” he remarks, eyes glinting in the light as he reaches up to press a thumb against your parted lips. “Are you satisfied?”

You lie there, chest heaving as you try to gather your wits about yourself. Your cunt clenches weakly around his cock, clinging to the heat radiating off his length. If you could muster up the strength, you would maybe lift your legs in the air so he can get a better angle to fuck you with. 

But you don’t have the energy. You’re tired, vision blurry from sweat and tears, and you think you might need a few days to recover from this entire ordeal.

Sylus gives you a knowing look. His gaze rakes across your spread-out body, combing across every inch of you, and his gaze is so hungry that it makes you shiver and tighten up on his cock. 

He leans down, head dipping to position himself right at your ear. His hair brushes against your cheek and his breath blows against your neck. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You want to reach up and claw at his back but you don’t have the energy.

“I’m not satisfied,” Sylus whispers into your ear. His tongue darts out, tracing a wet trail along the shell of your ear. “I think you can give me a few more orgasms, sweetie.”

“Too—nngh, too much,” you breathe, voice stuttering when he rocks his hips into yours. “S-Sylus, I don’t—”

“You can,” he asserts, hands wandering down to grip you tightly by your hips. “Three more, and then I’ll kiss your pretty pink pussy until you soak my face. How about it?”

You moan, eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought of it. If Sylus says three more, he isn’t joking. He’ll fuck those orgasms out of you, whether you want to or not, and he’ll wring the pleasure out of your body until you’re a breathless, panting, limp body. Until your cunt aches and you can’t walk straight for a week.

Before you can answer, something pulls your legs up. Heat circles around your ankles, yanking your legs up and to your sides, knees coming to rest at your shoulders. Sylus pulls back just enough to hook the inside of his elbows around your knees, and he smirks down at you as he grinds into your cunt.

The slide is wet. So wet it’s absurd, so wet you can hear the squelching sounds from your dripping pussy. 

“Count for me,” Sylus murmurs, one eye shining a brilliant crimson. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 

He fucks you, over and over again, using his Evol to manhandle your body into different positions until you’re begging for mercy. You cum when he cums, at the hot sensation of his cum spilling into you, painting your insides white. You cum again when he holds you up, bouncing you on his cock with your tits pressed up against the window, clit rubbing against the glass, vision blurry as you look out onto the N109 zone. You cum one more time, slick dripping uselessly from your throbbing cunt when he fucks you while you’re on your side, one leg lifted into the air, his hand on your clit, the other hand groping your tit. 

Then he makes good on his promise, energy circling your ankles like cuffs as he holds your legs over your body, folding you in half so he can grip your ass and pull your cunt apart for him to lick into.

When you cum again, you think it’s a dry orgasm. Your pussy clenches and throbs, your clit pulsating weakly, but you don’t know if you produce any more slick or if your cunt is just filled with his spit and cum. You feel wrecked.

He mouths at your clit, carefully licking with the tip of his tongue while you shudder in his hands. When you come down from the orgasm, he pulls your legs back down and your body finally eases into the sheets. 

“Easy, sweetie,” Sylus repeats, but this time there’s a softness to his tone. His hands on you are gentle, tucking you into his chest as he lifts you from the bed. “I’ve got you.”

And despite all his sharp edges, all the snark, all the challenging—you think he does.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

under his eye (lnds; sylus)

summary: sylus puts you under his thrall and takes exactly what he wants from you and your body.

note: this is my first love and deepspace fic, and definitely one of my more intense fics thematically for my regular readers who may dip into this one too. i have a few lnds ideas knocking around, so i may post more at some point. ♡

warnings: actual vampire!sylus, fem!reader, mc!reader, this is entirely smut but please mind the warnings here: heavy dubcon (there is enthusiastic consent explicit in the fic just not at first), cnc, use of thrall/mind-control, dollification, fingering, oral (f receiving), actual somno, rough sex, allusions to primal play, blood play, actual vampire behavior, orgasm denial/orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected sex (he's a vampire tho get real), creampie, praise and shame in equal measure, a LOT of dirty talk from sylus, heavy use of pet names like good girl, sweet girl, kitten, sweetheart, darling, etc., some implied size kink with the use of 'little' but it's meant more mean teasing from him than anything, tenderness, consent talks, check-ins, aftercare, sylus literally loves her in this dw

pairings: vampire!sylus x hunter!reader

genre: smut, porn with very little plot

word count: 5.6k

for my fellow sylus fans, you can probably tell this was fully inspired by his secret times audio 'midnight warmth' - i basically hit level 35 and then went fully insane when i first heard it..... so a few lines of dialogue are borrowed from that.

It’s hard to imagine what it feels like to be in a vampire’s thrall unless you’ve experienced it before. You don’t think you’d ever be able to find the words, not properly. You’ve heard it described, in training, in books, in your own personal research, but it all pales in comparison to what it’s actually like. The slow, hypnotic build up into the haze and the sudden descent into a deeper, darker place where your mind resonates at a lower frequency, fixed on one singular sound. One voice.

Sylus. 

His rich, honeyed tone had pushed you under before you could even process it. 

You try to remember where you were before this moment, who you were, but there are only flickers. The hotel room around you is large and unfamiliar, outfitted decadently in the dark jewel tones he favors so much. The black silk sheets under your back is the only sensation you have other than the slow pulse of your own heartbeat in your ears. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember a joke, something you quipped over your shoulder about how there must be laws in place in the N109 zone, how ‘vampire’s lair’ must be the only legal style of decor in this sector of space. 

He had laughed, a real, genuine laugh from deep in his chest before he wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled into your hair. 

You don’t like being in a vampire’s lair, kitten? 

You can still hear his words, swimming around your foggy brain, his voice so low and warm in his chest. 

I thought you liked being my pretty paramour. 

Sylus’s hands had wandered, playing with the buckles of your hunter’s leathers and letting his fingertips ghost over your collarbones, up your throat, and pass gently over your lips before stepping back and away from you entirely. You felt strange from that moment on, disquieted. 

You made excuses in your own mind for how you were feeling, weeks of investigations and sleepless nights, that’s why your body felt like it was dragging itself through butter just trying to eat dinner. 

You apologized, you wouldn’t have called him if you had realized just how tired you were.

But he just smiled at you, appraising you with his sharp red eyes in that way he often does, nodding along to your staggered attempts at conversation. 

You realized what he was doing in the last split second before your mind became his. 

His gaze turned darker, searing into you, and with one word you felt the world drop out from underneath you. 

Sleep. 

You don’t remember how you ended up on the bed. 

Now your head is swimming as you try harder and harder to focus your mind and recall the little details.

“Stop resisting, darling,” Sylus murmurs, and you feel the mattress dip. 

You can’t respond, you can’t even really move, and a nervous panic starts to work its way up your spine.

Sylus sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to you now that you can see him in your vacant line of vision, and he nods, “Just relax,” 

Your muscles soften. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, shall we?” Sylus leans closer, his fingers tugging at the buckles and straps of your clothes. 

You watch as he meticulously undresses you, peeling away layers of your uniform, a satisfied groan whispered from his lips as he parts open your blouse, another when he does away with your tight leather pants. All the while, you’re boneless, trapped by his last command and fully at his mercy. The Hunter’s Academy never prepared you for this. 

“You really are a pretty thing,” Sylus hums, his cool hand drifting up and down your body from the base of your bra to the top of your underwear, “so soft,” 

Nerves pulse through you again, your body twitching under his hands. 

“Shh,” He soothes, “it’s only me, relax,” 

Your muscles melt further, any lingering tension bleeding out of your body at his words, your head rocking softly to one side, your cheek against the silk pillowcase. 

“That’s a good girl,” 

You sigh, a sudden needy tug deep in your belly at his words. 

“Mm,” His hand drifts higher, dancing over your chest and passing over your breasts, the rough drag of your cloth bra against your nipple pulling a tiny whine from your lips. 

He chuckles softly, repeating his motions and you whine again. 

“How lovely and responsive you are,” Sylus says, pulling the fabric of your bra down until it catches under the swell of your breasts, “what other little noises can I pull out of you, kitten?” 

He rolls a thumb over your nipple, drawing it up to a tight, almost painful peak, and you whimper at the flood of sensation through your chest and down your abdomen. 

“And this?” He pinches, a tug that leaves you involuntarily jerking. 

“And here?” You can’t see him with the way your head is turned, but you feel his fingers ghost over the hem of your panties and you suck in a sharp breath. 

He adjusts one of your legs, opening it up at the knee to widen his access, and then he presses two fingers a little more firmly at the top of your cunt, expertly locating your clit through your panties and applying steady pressure. 

You moan softly and you hear him release a tight exhale. 

“My,” He lets his fingers slip down, pushing lightly against your slit, “are you wet already?” 

You know you are, your body responding naturally to his voice, to his tender touch. 

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Sylus leans over you, his breath against your cheek, “when I ask you a question, I’d like a response.” 

Your heart is fluttering, a thunderously fast pounding in your chest. 

His fingers hook under your chin and draw your gaze up, and gently he pushes the hair away from your face as he regards you, his dark eyes full of mirth and a little half smile on his lips. He nods at you, pleased as if you had turned your own head, “Now,” he says, “I asked if you’re wet already?” 

Your knotted up tongue loosens instantly at the question, “Yes,” 

“Good girl,” He coos, leaning over you to press his cool lips to yours. 

You can’t kiss him back, he hasn't told you if you’re allowed to move, but he peppers you with kisses until you feel his fingers slide under the hem of your panties. 

You gasp under him, heat pooling in your belly. 

Sylus dips his fingers into the dripping slickness of your cunt and groans into your ear, “You like this,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’re a mess between your thighs for me, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” The word slips out, your voice breathy and taut.

  “My pretty little hunter,” He slides his fingers up to your swelling clit and circles his fingers, “does that feel good?” 

You moan a little, his fingers pressing more firmly as he circles, “Yes, Sylus,” 

“Spread out for me,” He presses his head against your temple and turns so he can watch your body twitching as he works his fingers over you, “Wet for me,” 

A hot rush spreads up through your body.

You shouldn’t like this. You shouldn’t want this. But you asked for this, a confession of your fantasies whispered between the sheets at his apartment, and he peeled them apart one by one, teasing you with questions and collecting his information, strumming you to orgasm after orgasm all the while.

You just didn’t know it would be today, weeks and weeks went by without so much as an innuendo. The sudden onset of his thrall and his control over your body shouldn’t be this alluring, but it is. You can’t move, you can’t speak unless he allows you, but every touch of his skin on yours has you ready to throw every instinct out the window because you’re pretty sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. 

His fingers speed up and your hips buck just a little into the sensation.

  “Dirty girl,” He hums, “you like the way this feels, you like that you can’t move,” 

He twists your dark desires back around on you, a flutter of shame in your chest at the truth of it. 

He explores your cunt with his fingers, toying with you and gathering more wetness to torture your clit with, “You like being helpless, completely in my hands,” he goads you as he works your body up to release, “unable to stop me, or tell me no,” 

Your core throbs, every inch of your body a live wire, shame twisting into a tight knot of need in your belly. 

  “Don’t you?” 

You gasp as he pushes two fingers deep inside you, “Yes, yes!”

”Are you close, kitten?” He purrs in your ear, thrusting his fingers hard and fast, his knuckles rhythmically connecting with your clit. 

  “Yes,” You whine, your body trembling.

  “That’s too bad,” He pulls his hand free and lets your underwear snap back into place. 

If you could move you’d be a whining mess, throwing yourself at him and begging for him to finish the job, but you can’t. He’s stolen your orgasm right out from under you and you can’t even ask him to finish the job. 

“Hmm,” He stands, and you hear the sound of his shirt dropping to the floor, “does it hurt?” 

“Yes,” You manage. 

“Poor baby,” He teases, mocking your little sob, and his thumbs hook under the sides of your panties to yank them roughly off your body, “should I kiss it and make it better?” 

“Please,” 

He drops back down to the bed, this time sliding in between your thighs, and when he speaks again you feel his cool breath whisper across your throbbing center, “Ask nicely,” 

Your voice is shaky when you finally find the words, “Please, Sylus will you touch me?” 

“Touch you where?” 

You whimper, the slightest involuntary jerk of your hips pulling a chuckle from his lips. 

“I said,” He reminds you, “touch you where?” 

“M-my clit,” You beg, “my pussy, please,” 

“Was that so hard?” You can practically see him smiling. 

You open your mouth, ready to respond, but his mouth closes over your clit and all thought and reason you had left disappear. He’s going to ruin you for any other man, you know it. 

Sylus hums, pushing your limp legs painfully wide and laps at your center. There’s no teasing left in him, no gentle licks and featherlight brushes of fingertips, there’s just him, needing to feel you come just as badly as you do. 

The knot in your gut is back with a vengeance, and every impulse in your body is to squirm away from his mouth and let him drag you back down, but you can’t. Sylus takes and takes and you have no choice but to let him. 

When he lifts his mouth to take a quick breath he gives you another command, “Watch me,” 

The tether between you draws your gaze down, and you gasp at the sight of him. He’s shirtless, his broad hands holding open your trembling thighs, and he eats at you like you’re a meal. Your breath comes quicker, blush lighting up your chest. 

“You taste so sweet here,” He groans, barely lifting his mouth, his tongue carving a line up from your entrance to your sensitive bud and you choke out a breathy moan. 

He knows you’re about to come before you do, and you see him smile into your wet heat before he shifts focus, lips closing over your clit and sucking hard, his hand sliding to push two fingers back inside and crook them just right. Within a few sharp pumps of his wrist and a steady flick of his tongue you’re moaning sharply, your release snapping in your belly so hard you see stars. 

You can’t move on your own, but your body crackles apart in rhapsodic shakes and he carries you through the crest of your orgasm with lazy licks. 

“Beautiful,” He murmurs, and you feel the sharp pin prick of pain at your inner thigh. He licks you there too, taking just a little taste from the vein, and then sighs pleasantly and squeezes your thigh. 

He kisses you here once, and then pulls himself up, arranging your legs back down before sliding next to you in the sheets and tugging you close to his chest. 

You rock into him, your body spent and boneless, unable to move to wrap your arms around him or press kisses to his chest. Instead you just are, and he pulls your body up until you’re in the perfect spot in his arms. He tucks his cheek against yours and palms your backside. 

“When you wake,” Sylus whispers low, “it will be on my cock.” 

You shiver, your core pulsing again. 

“And you’ll stay nice and soft and wet for me,” He kisses the hollow of your ear, “my sweet doll,” 

Your eyes start to grow heavy, your head lolling into his shoulder. 

“You’ll let me have my wicked way with your sweet cunt,” His hands flex tightly on your skin, like he’s restraining himself from taking you now, “and when you’re close, right on the edge of coming, you’ll tell me, do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Your words sound lazy, malformed in your cotton mouth but you answer him nonetheless.

“Good,” He murmurs, “and when you come, your hot pussy squeezing my cock, my thrall will end.” 

A hazy question forms in your mind, but you’re so foggy now. 

“But until then,” he sighs, his hands relaxing and his voice softening, “you’ll rest,” 

Your eyes drift shut, a relaxed sigh on your lips, your body indistinguishable in your mind from the sheets wrapped around you. 

Sylus presses a gentle kiss to your hair and strokes your back, “Sleep, little crow,” he says softly, “you’re safe with me,” 

Just like before, the world falls away. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There’s no telling how long you’ve been asleep, not when Sylus wakes you the way he does. You come into consciousness incredibly slowly, as if you were out of your body and watching the scene in slow motion. The first thing you register through the muffled world of dreamless sleep is his voice. It doesn’t matter how deeply under you are, still encased in darkness, you hear his voice reach out to you and tug on the invisible tether tying your consciousness to his. 

Needy girl. 

Hands on your thighs, cool air on your cunt. 

Rutting yourself on my thigh. 

Were you? 

Don’t you know I’m the only one allowed to make you come?

A soft moan. Yours, you think distantly. 

Sylus chuckles and hums, no doubt appraising you once again with his hungry eyes. You still feel under the deep water of sleep, your body disconnected and pliant in his hands, his influence so impacting that you remain his plaything even now. 

Fingers dance across your skin, skating lines of ice over your flesh. Sylus studies your body with his touch, a brush against your collarbones, the curve of your shoulders, down your arms into the ditch of your elbows. A brush of lips against your palm, a reverent kiss to your chest, his mouth nuzzling against your belly as he searches more of you with his precious touch. 

Your skin turns sensitive, prickling goose flesh, and he sighs pleasantly into your skin, “So beautiful,” 

His voice feels clearer now, and somewhere in your brain through the membrane of your closed eyelids you register the cool blue of early morning light. 

“My darling,” He hums, another kiss, the shifting of the sheets as he moves, “my sweet girl,” 

You feel the weight of him above you, his legs between yours and his torso radiating a chill as he holds himself above you. Sylus slips one hand into your hair, cradling your head for a moment before he tightens his hold and uses his grip on your scalp to draw your head back, neck stretched long and exposed. 

He drops lower, body ghosting yours, and he buries his face in your throat, pushing his nose into your pulse point. A panicked thrill lances through you, your heartbeat fluttering faster. 

“Shh, shh,” He whispers against your throat, “don’t be frightened,” 

A sharp exhale leaves your lips. 

Sylus kisses your throat, letting his lips linger, “You wanted to play with a vampire, sweetheart, this is what you get,” 

Even in this false sleep, you feel your core flutter, heat pooling again. 

His tongue darts out, tracing a line from your thumping pulse up your vein to your ear and he groans pleasantly, a flutter of breath across your skin, “Next time,” he shudders, “maybe I’ll make you play my favorite game,” 

Your breath quickens. 

“Vampire,” He nips at your throat, his fangs still sheathed, “and vampire hunter,” 

The ache between your thighs melts into a throb, a pulse in time with your heart.

Sylus moves lower, lavishing open mouthed, messy kisses on your skin as he talks. His voice still a whisper, his fantasies muttered out from himself more than for you as he loses himself in your touch.

”You’ll come to me,” He teases, “ready to kill the big, bad, vampire,” he punctuates every word with a sharp lick to your breasts.  

A whimper passes through your slack lips. 

“Only I’ve played this game before,” His hand slides out of your hair and he settles his body weight over you, “and I never lose,” 

You shiver, his words, his cold touch, it hardly matters. 

“And you’ll run from me,” His hands drag over your skin, cupping your breasts, “and I’ll chase the frightened kitten into the woods,” 

Your breath hitches. 

He smiles against your skin, lips closing over a stiff nipple and flicking until you shudder beneath him. He hums, kissing across your chest, “Red and ripe as strawberries,” he observes, latching onto your other nipple and sucking, “I can feel how much you’re aching for me even in your sleep,” 

You’re dripping, you can feel it, making a mess of the silk sheets underneath you. 

He shifts, maneuvering your body to tilt your hips up and open, legs spread wide, and then you feel him. Sylus slides his impossibly hard length over your slit, rocking himself back and forth against your wetness, his velvet head nudging at your swollen bud. 

Your body is trembling, fluttering under his hands. 

“When I catch you,” He returns to his garish fantasy, “I’ll strip you bare,” 

You feel your stomach clench at the thought. 

“I’ll pin you right down to the ground,” He says it like a promise, rolling his hips harder, “and fuck your hot little cunt until you’re so cockdrunk you beg for more,” 

A pained whine bubbles from your mouth, hips arching involuntarily at his words. 

“Mm,” His hand drags down your chest, skimming over your body, “have I denied you too long, love?” 

You want to beg, to plead, to shift your hips into the exact right position so that his next thrust pushes his cock inside. 

“You’ve been so good,” He adjusts, finally nudging at your wet entrance, his hands finding yours in the sheets and drawing them above your head, fingers twined together, “just a little more,”

He inhales sharply and then with a forceful thrust he sheaths himself inside you, his hips connecting hard with yours. 

You moan sharply, your pussy clenching around the thick intrusion of him. 

He chokes a groan, “O-open your eyes, sweetheart,” 

Your eyes snap open, and the sight of him naked above you, inside you, is enough to send your mind spiraling out of control. 

“Your body was made for me,” He snaps his hips, setting a brutal pace as he ruts into you, “divined by gods for my cock,” 

Pleasure rolls up through your belly and your body tightens.

  “You’re mine,” His hands tightens on yours, his eyes boring into you.

  Tears gather in your eyes, a hot sensation through every inch of your body at the way his thick length spears you open with every draw of his hips. The knot inside you pulls again, a taut cord threatening at any moment to snap. 

“Say you’re mine,” He commands, his voice faltering into a moan.

  Your mouth opens, straining against the sure drop of your orgasm but you nod, “I’m yours, S-Sylus, I’m all yours,” 

“Good girl,” He pants, “there she is,” 

The praise on his lips sends you higher, and you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m… Sylus, I’m close!”

He descends, moving in a flash of nearly inhuman speed, and suddenly your head is pulled to the side  again and you’re cradled tight as he rolls his hips into you. 

“Come,” He directs, one more command on his lips before you fall to pieces beneath him, and his sharp fangs descend into your throat. 

“Sylus!” You jerk, true consciousness and feeling rushing back as the thread between his mind and yours severs, but you don’t have a moment to parse how it feels to be out of thrall when your orgasm rushes into you full force and the hot pain of his teeth melts into delicious pleasure. 

He groans, shuddering above you and stopping his thrusts as he feels your walls spasm and flutter around him, the taste of your blood on his tongue grinding the world to a halt at his feet. Nothing exists but you and him and your blood on his teeth and his cock buried to the hilt inside you. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand threading into his hair, “Sylus,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his silver locks, “all yours,” 

Euphoria doesn’t begin to describe it, your orgasm feels never ending. Every suck at your tender throat spurns another wave through you, and you rock yourself against him, grinding up against his pelvic bone to draw out every ounce of your pleasure. 

When he pulls away, he does so with care, gentle with the skin of your neck to ensure he doesn’t hurt you anymore that he has to. Pushing up on the mattress he finds your face and you roll right into another aftershock. His eyes are brighter, wide in desperate awe of you and somehow an even darker shade of red, and that with the smear of your blood across his lips has you keening, arching and gripping against him as you babble out his name between moans. 

“That’s it,” He softens, gathering you close to press his forehead to yours, “come for me again, that’s my girl,” 

“Sylus,” You’re a whimpering mess, your body a pool of ecstatic pleasure, and all you can do is repeat his name and hold onto him through the wave of endorphins and emotions. 

“Shh, shh,” He hushes you softly as you ride through the last flush of pleasure, “I’ve got you,” 

Your skin is slick with sweat, and your legs are shaking, breath coming in shallow pants as you finally come back down. 

Sylus holds you, bracing you to his chest and he makes short work of rolling you both without disconnecting your bodies. When he settles he’s on his back with you perched on his hips, his fingers carving a line up and down your spine to settle you. 

Flush and trembling, you find his eyes again. 

His brows draw together, a knit line of tender concern, and he brushes his thumb over your jaw, “Don’t bite your lip,” 

Your mouth relaxes, you hadn’t even known you were doing it, and your eyes flick away. He says something, words you can hardly hear through the dizzy rush of your brain trying to catch up with the past few hours.

“Sweetheart,” he smooths his thumb over your cheek, “look me in the eyes, answer me,” 

Your head snaps back up. 

“Was I too rough?” He asks softly.

You don’t have words yet, you can’t reach them and string them together, but you shake your head.

”Are you sure?” His hands draw up and down your body slowly like he’s checking you for something, his broad hands finally coming to rest over yours where you brace yourself on his chest. 

You nod to his answer his question, “I’m sure,” 

He relaxes under you, pressing your hands into his chest over his heart, and it would turn you to romantic putty if he wasn’t still seated fully inside you and if your blood wasn’t staining his mouth. Your eyes keep flicking down to his mouth, crimson across his plush bottom lip, smears on his chin, a drip that made it to the edge and slipped down his neck. 

”Hmm,” His lips turn up into a smile and you sheepishly look back up, “are you still hungry, love?” 

Your stomach clenches, his voice turning husky again the moment he spies your renewed arousal. 

This time though, you’re awake. The heavy fog of his control and your barrage of orgasms has started to lift, and you need something more. 

You let your body melt, relaxing against him and letting his cock shift inside you, “Are you?” 

He almost laughs at your expression, one brow raised to challenge him as you push up to straddle him. His eyes rake over you and you feel his cock twitch, “You’d think I would have had my fill of you,” he says, hands moving to your hips, “but I find you make me insatiable, the more I taste you, the more I fuck you, the more I want,” 

“A vampire who’s never satisfied?” You tease him, “how original,” 

He exhales softly through his nose, smiling, “You’re the one still grinding on my cock, kitten,” 

You blush, but make no effort to stop unconsciously rocking your hips against him. 

“I was wrong, you’re the insatiable one,” He says appreciatively, and he smoothly slides his hands up your back to brace you so that when he sits up you stay with him. 

“If I was I’d never admit it,” 

He smacks your ass lightly with his palm and you wrap your legs around him, the position change sinking you back down onto his length and you sigh. 

”After what you just let me do to you?” Sylus shakes his head, his voice dropping the teasing tone when he presses his lips to your chest, “That’s admission enough,” 

He takes both hands to grip your backside, pressing into your soft flesh, and drags you forwards to coax you into motion. 

Holding onto his shoulders you follow his lead, working your hips back and forth, letting the press of his hands guide your speed. The feeling is dizzying, his cock feeling thicker and more filling in this position, and you can’t help the stammered moans and pants that bubble out of you with every downstroke connecting your hips to his. 

Sylus mutters a curse into your skin, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises, and then you feel his tongue. 

“Fuck,” You whine, “Sylus,” 

He pulls at your hips harder and you pick up the pace, grinding your heels into the mattress for the right leverage, losing yourself to the steady wet sound of him inside you and the heat building back up in your belly. 

You shiver at the sensation of his tongue traveling, dragging a line up your chest from the swell of your breast to your collarbone, and when he groans and huffs a needy breath at your throat, you realize what has him so flustered. 

“T-take more,” Your hand in his hair again to direct his head, pushing him towards your throat. 

“Mm-mm,” He shakes his head and drops the flat of his tongue over the bleeding teeth marks at your throat. 

You hiss sharply, a familiar roll of pleasure through you and you grip his hair, “Please, baby, please,” 

“Not tonight,” He laps at you again, “just cleaning you up,” 

“God,” You moan, your pace faltering for a moment until the pressure of his hands pushes you back into action. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, pulling away from your throat and using one hand to tug you close by the back of the neck, “you feel…” 

You have to hold on, you need him to come after all the work he’s put into pleasuring you, and you can’t let yourself fall apart until he does. You lock eyes with him and his expression, almost pained, his mouth open in silent pleasure and still painted red, pushes you through the ache in your hips and the burning in your thighs. He’s so close. Nearly, nearly there.

”Sylus,” Your voice breathy, “kiss me,” 

There’s a flicker of a smile across his mouth but he surges up, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His tongue catches against yours, and you taste the iron of your own blood, you feel the sharpness of his fangs, but all it does is drive you closer and closer to delicious release. 

“My sinful little thing,” He pants against your mouth, “you never stop surprising me,” 

Your eyes flutter shut, your nails tight against his shoulders, “Please, I need it,” 

“What do you need?” He croons, hungrily at your lips once more. 

You moan against his mouth, tugging his hair sharply, “Come,” you pant, nearly out of breath, “I need your cum,” 

He shudders, groaning.  

“Sylus!” You whine again, “Inside, please, please,” 

His hand slips from your hair, and the equilibrium changes things back to Sylus in total control. With both hands secured on your ass he takes over, dragging you fast and hard on his cock and meeting every thrust with a hard jut of his hips. He’s fucking into you with reckless need, the head of his cock connecting over and over again with your cervix, and you arch and cry out in his arms. 

“No,” He pants, pulling you back to him, “eyes on me,” 

“Please,” You beg again, your cunt spasming and fluttering, “I-I’ll come if you just,” 

He loses himself immediately, pulling you down hard and choking out a moan, spilling his release deep and grinding you down to prolong his own pleasure, but you’re falling apart right behind him in a breath. A final, dizzying orgasm taking your body like a soft wave, languid and warm, and Sylus nods as you ride it out, coaxing you through every last moment. 

When you settle, you feel how much your body is trembling, and he releases his tight grip on your hips to gently massage your skin, soothing touches as he softens inside you. 

“Oh my god,” You laugh softly, your forehead pressed to his, “that was,” 

“Good?” He asks, a soft, quick kiss to your lips. 

“Perfect,” You sigh, “you were perfect.” 

He nods, drinking you in for a moment more before he exhales and relaxes, leaning back and meeting your eyes.  

“I must look a mess,” You press your cool knuckles to the warmth of your flushed cheeks. 

“A beautiful mess,” He counters gently. 

You smile lazily at him, feeling boneless and sated and delicious. 

Sylus takes the pad of his thumb to the very tip of his razor sharp fangs and pierces his skin, a bead of his own dark blood rising up from the puncture on his pale skin. 

His fangs retract and he reaches for you, smoothing his bleeding thumb over the bite mark at your throat. You hiss sharply at the sensation and grip his shoulder, the burn of your skin knitting itself back together something you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to. 

“I was too rough with you,” He comments, like he’s filing away that information for himself for next time. 

You shake your head though, resting your hand on his wrist, “You weren’t, I wanted every bit of it,” 

His thumb sweeps a final line over your skin and he kisses you again, “I’ll keep that in mind,” 

You smile against his lips, and then Sylus gives you one final, quick peck. 

“I think a shower,” He says, sliding you both smoothly off the bed and keeping you tucked in his arms, “and a nap,” 

“I think that’s a perfect idea,” 

“And I’m hardly hungry anymore,” He teases as he carries you into the bathroom, “but we’ll order something up for you,” 

You nod, relaxing into his care. 

“Perhaps a movie,” He suggests, sliding you onto the counter so he can start the shower, “or I could always read to you?” 

“Or you could tell me more about next time,” You say slyly, “what was it? Chasing me down in the woods?” 

He shakes his head, testing the warmth of the water on his fingertips. 

“Having your way with me?” You stretch out your leg to reach him, dragging your foot down his thigh, “Should I struggle? Beg you to stop?” 

His hand snaps up, closing around your ankle and he turns towards you, “Be careful, sweetheart,” 

“I’m simply curious,” You tease. 

“Mhm,” He scoops you back up and walks you straight into the shower until your back is against the chilly tile wall, “Curious?” 

You feel him hardening again against your belly and you nod.

“Kitten,” He smirks, “you know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?” 

“I think I need a little reminder,” You sigh, holding onto his shoulders again. 

He kisses you again, pressing you into the shower wall, a smile on his mouth as he nips at your lip, “I’ll bet you do,” 

A Practical Demonstration (LaDS Sylus - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 9.8k Pairing: Sylus/Reader

Tags: size difference, oral and vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, mild mentions of stalking (not Sylus or Mephisto for once LOL), inexperienced (NOT virgin) reader, edging, drinking, [im]proper use of evol, explicit sexual content

Summary: When you end up disclosing a mortifying truth to Sylus about your dating life, deep in a drinking session; drowning yourself within a bottle — or three — of alcohol until you black out is the only option left to you to avoid that sharp, intuitive gaze for the rest of the night.  

That is, until Sylus throws a counter offer your way, one that sounds far too tempting to your scrabbled brain. Being the brilliant voice of reason you are tonight, you accept.  

[A fic where Sylus shows you exactly how good sex with a perceptive partner feels like when you confess your less than optimal dating experience.] 

Author’s Notes: Truly clown moment when I believed this fic would not exceed more than 4k words and yet again, here I am sitting on an almost 10k monster. I love what being horny for these men has done for my inspiration. Thank you so much to @chibamari for providing the prompt that birthed this fic. Already working on a religious desecration imagery angsty sex fic with Xavier and Queen MC, based on his first myth, as we speak.

The lingering remnants of your foiled meeting are muted with the press of rouged lips against the cusp of your cool glass, the liquor within, sliding easy down your throat with your fervent swallow.  

Placing it back down with a defeated sigh, you lean your arm against the counter, cradling your warming cheek against the crook of your palm.  

You never should’ve let Tara talk you into an impromptu date with a mutual acquaintance she’d considered ‘the perfect match’ for you; her giddy excitement and enthusiasm to get you a date had been too difficult to turn down. You cursed yourself underneath your breath at your inability to say no to those big, wide eyes and cheery smile; exactly the components that had saddled you deep into the disaster you’d considered that date to be — if it could be called as such.  

You’d excused yourself half-way through the man’s self-absorbed prattling — ruining the taste of the expensive steak in front, one you’d been wanting to try for ages — on excuse of an urgent mission coming up.  

A hand tucking your phone close to your ear, to reinforce your hasty lie while the other had slipped your card to your assigned waiter, making hasty work of settling your end of the bill. You’d swept up your coat and purse, striding out the lavish restaurant on swift-heeled steps before your sputtering date could so much as lift a hand in protest.  

Which is what had now landed you firmly in your current predicament, within the confines of a cosy, well-known bar, not too far from where you’d started.  

Nursing a budding headache within the bitter notes of alcohol, to help ease at long fraught nerves. In between the ever-looming threat of Wanderers and the obstructive wrench thrown into your investigation into the Ever group, along with how busy work usually kept you, you were exhausted, suffice to say. The insignificant man tonight had just been the icing on this long-ruined cake.  

Tara’s suggestion; to put yourself out more and ‘let loose’ for a bit, had ended in mild regret in going along with it, in the first place.  

It had been far too long since you’d been in a relationship — let alone enjoyed a date with a man; your professional obligations kept you busy, coupled along with an extremely low desire to invest yourself into the dating pool, to wade and weed through to one that matched your wavelength.  

A flash of an alluring garnet gaze sparks through your mind’s eye in passing, at the thought, one you physically shake yourself out of.  

Now there was a man entirely on the spectrum opposite to your frequency. Your inability to resonate with him had only been just one of many failures toward mutual understanding.  

“Another one for you, Miss?” The bartender inquires; you’re nodding before you can think it through. 

“Yes, thank—” 

“She’ll have a mojito instead. The usual for me.” A deep, rich voice drifts at your back — before it scotches down, involuntarily and low into your belly — just as the large hand you feel slip across your shoulder in greeting. You close your eyes against the intrusion, hoping the hazy apparitions of your mind would gift you a damn break just once tonight; as if having had him conjured out of mere musings. You shudder.  

The alluring man at your side does not dissipate as you’d direly wished, seating himself down onto the stool next to yours, completely at leisure at having snuck into your space, unannounced once more. You hated how infuriatingly easy the Onychinus head found himself able to pervade your every space, along with each of your thoughts — the latter of which you did not wish to dissect apart tonight. Or, ever, if you had the choice.  

“What are you thinking of, with such a severe frown on your face?” He speaks, as if he does not know the exact reason for your irritation. “You’ll put a permanent knot in there if you don’t stop.”  

You choose to ignore him in lieu of offering a resigned nod to the bartender for the order Sylus had placed on your behalf. You could use a less inebriating drink now, especially so if you were to deal with the man beside you. 

“What’re you doing here, Sylus?” You sigh against the dredges of your last drink, letting the bitter liquid warm your throat.  

“Has the alcohol numbed your memory as well, sweetheart? We had an appointment, did we not?” Your respective orders are deposited in front, just as he moves to take the drink in between long, tapered digits, bringing it up to his mouth for a taste.  

The slow drag of his Adam’s apple against his throat as he drinks, tugs your gaze towards it — an involuntarily reflex you aren’t able to control. Sylus’ scarlet gaze canting sideways to capture yours is what finally has you wrenching away from the delectable sight, cursing your fast settling inebriation for the mis-step.  

He was an attractive man, your mind had long made begrudging peace with the fact, even if you’d both started off on an extremely wrong — horrid, actually — foot. And he’d proven himself to be a reliable companion, when the two of you had caused waves within N109’s criminal hub, in a quest for the Aether Core. His side of the bargain he’d kept, in exchange for your deal to forge a steady resonation with him. One you had no thoughts of reneging on, you’d keep your promise to him for the massive aid he’d provided. And yet, you could not help bemoan the fact that this very man confounded you, to your very core, to the point you weren’t sure what to make of his intentions. And yours.  

But surely, you weren’t this physically deprived that Sylus of all people was beginning to sprout this visceral a reaction from you?  

“And I texted you I couldn’t make it tonight, sweetheart.” You quip, pinching your forehead in between thumb and index. “This really isn’t the time, Sylus.”  

He raises a careful brow at you, and God help you, even that gesture is incredibly beguiling to your slushed brain.  

“And you couldn’t make it because” he prompts, tapered digits drumming against the marbled countertop. “you wished to spend your time out here, dressed to the nines, in a party of one?”  

“So what if I wanted to?” All your prickly response earns you is a discerning gaze, zoned in on you. You exhale hard through your nose, shoulders steeling to utter your next words. “Oh alright, I had a blind date tonight.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re divulging something this private to the man. 

The way his brows shoots in simmering surprise before they bunch in at his forehead in a frown is almost comical, you would’ve snorted at the expression he’s pulling if not for his next words. “So that’s what had that imbecile out there on your trail, lingering at the door for.” He scoffs. “You may not have enjoyed your date but you certainly got yourself a love-struck fool nipping at your heels, kitten.” 

“Wait, what?” Bewilderment wars cold within your mind at the disgusting revelation of the man tonight having possibly followed you and Sylus having caught him dead in the act. “What did you do to him?”  

“It’s fascinating how your first assumption is that I did anything to him.” His pleasant chuckle curls within your ears; a low, throaty burr. And when you give him one of your own looks, “Alright, don’t look at me so. Mephisto presumed you had a far dangerous stalker on hand than that sorry bastard, when he saw him lurking about you.” He swirls his glass of whiskey in between casual fingers. “I gave him some cordial talking to and sent him on his merry way.”  

A million queries hurtle within your mind — what did his “cordial talking to” ensue exactly? Why had Mephisto been trailing you? Why did Sylus feel the need to step in and personally take care of your potential stalker?  

You reach to take a swig of your own glass, feeling that headache pinching once more at your brow. “I don’t appreciate you having your silly crow keep tabs on me, Sylus. But,” Reluctant gratitude stirs at the tip of your tongue as your mind slowly processes the situation at hand. If it hadn’t been for Sylus’ interfering ways, you might’ve been saddled with a problem far worse than the infuriatingly suave Onychinus leader on your hands tonight. “Thank you for taking care of that creep for me, I guess. I appreciate it?”  

You think you catch the strains of barely there surprise within his gaze, along with an amalgamation of emotions you aren’t able to parse before they’re shuttered out of sight. Replaced with a cool smile, he angles at you. “The alcohol has you honest for a change, kitten. I can’t say I dislike it.”  

That infuriating remark has you almost wanting to take back your thanks, almost.  

“Your engagement for the night has scurried off home with his tail in between his legs, leaving you to your celebration of one.” His touch is a flitting, warm caress against the shell of your ear as he folds a stray lock of hair back in place. “Are you going to say why you’re out here by your lonesome yet, furiously downing liquor, instead of back in the safety of your house?”  

A gibe sits sharp across your tongue at his probing, wanting to tell him to back off and out of your business, he had no reason to be asking whether you chose to go out on a date or throw yourself a self-wallowing party, to let loose for one damn night. You weren’t even sure why Sylus pricked at your nerves the way he did — riling you up in the manner he did. Each single touch, every look fraught with meaning. He did and went as he pleased, without a care for what people made of him; self-assured as if the world itself, he held, in between those devious fingers. And he probably did too, his reputation one of absolute power within N109 Zone and without.  

That very same man — the one who’d told you he’d make full use of you, as you did him — perched atop a bar stool by your side, asking you a question that seemed devoid of his usual ribbing. And perhaps, it’s because of that one sole thought that you find your mouth moving — or simply, because the alcohol has sniped your inhibitions. “Tara’s been on my case lately, insisting I need to get laid to blow off some stress.”  

“Oh? That hunter girl with the bob, the very eager one.” Sylus looks immensely amused; your mind sifts through memories to recall how exactly Sylus knew her before it clicks: ah, the company retreat you’d stumbled into Sylus a few weeks back at. How could you ever forget? The day had been a nightmare.  

“The very one,” you blink. “Hence the failed date tonight and my immeasurable disappointment.”  

“Why? Were you planning on sleeping with that loser?”  

You shake your head at him, horrified at the mere thought. “No, it actually went as well as I was expecting it to. Bad, that is.” You take another enthusiastic swig of your drink, a modicum of clarity returning to your stuffed head. “The sorry state of the dating pool at large, for a hunter with limited time on her hands isn’t exactly stellar. Even less so for men who know what they’re doing. And my luck in that regard seems particularly disastrous.”  

In hindsight, you knew you were word vomiting your thoughts out at this point, with way too much candour than was appropriate for the situation, you’d regret it tomorrow perhaps — no, most definitely. But at the moment, underneath the glazed pleasant bubble of alcohol loosening your tongue and the enticement of an extremely alluring man, who had his entire attention focused upon you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

He huffs an amused half-laugh. “What sort of men have you been with exactly, kitten?” 

“Not that many.” You retort. “...Two and both during my schooling years, very briefly. I was a giddy teen, excited at the prospect of a loving boyfriend. Both their expectations from the relationship were obvious from a mile away, though.” You scrub a hand through the carefully primmed fall of your hair, not caring for the accessories you knocked askew. “God, I don’t think they even knew what to do with a woman, outside of getting their dicks wet.” You laugh at your own odd joke, tumbling within your brain.  

“It’s actually crazy how I’ve never had a man make me properly come in all my years—” Your words die within your throat at the realization of your horrifying admission.  

Surely, you’d thought them within your own mind and not just blurted your entire sob fest onto the man in front? A wretched sound of dismay leaves your throat at the inscrutable look upon Sylus’ face, shredding apart any sliver of hope you’d had that you had only been musing in thoughts.  

Gods, Tara was right, your idiotic self did need to get laid, you’d gone mad at long last. And made of yourself, a fool in front of the man you were begrudgingly attracted to. There was no coming out of this and you woed the fact that you’d even let yourself drink in the first place. 

“It does seem like your dating life has been rather disastrous up to this point.” Sylus responds, at last, insouciantly plucking his glass of whiskey off the counter for a swig, so at counterpoint to your rioting emotions.  

“Sylus.” 

“What is it?”  

You reach over, a hand securing about his broad shoulder, as you tip precariously close into the man’s space, plucking the glass straight out of his hands.  

“Hey—” Before darting back as far as you’re able, a feat Sylus did not think a woman even half-drunk was capable of.  

Taking a large gulp of the acridly strong liquor down your gullet, in a prayer to knock yourself out like you’d originally intended to before Sylus had walked in all over your small parade. Anything to blot your memory of the knowledge of your mortifying words to Sylus. But curling vines of red and obsidian are cleaving through your plans just as swift, one sliding about your waist to prevent your precipitous tilt upon the narrow stool while the other plucks the liquor clean out of your hands after a single pitiful swig.  

The swirls of misted red disappear just as furtively swift as they’d appeared once they have you righted upon the stool and out of harm’s way.  

A low sigh rings heavy above your head at your absurdity. “That’s enough. We’re leaving.”  

Affording you no room for feeble protests as he slips a cool palm around yours; long, thick fingers reassuring in between your own before he tows you away from the glittering inebriation of night life.  

Clarity from the merciful remnants of your intoxication is unwelcome tonight — like cool gunmetal pressed fast against your temple, siphoning the entirety of the alcoholic flush from your system. Having utterly failed at your attempts at getting hammered so you would’ve had at least an excuse to fake post drunken amnesia in the face of your shame tomorrow.  

Instead, here you were, deep within Zone N109 once more, incarcerated to the room Sylus had appointed temporarily as yours during your first visit to the place. One that had over time, turned into your housing and personal space, indefinitely, for whenever you happened to drop by on business with the Onychinus head. On business, you firmly reminded yourself. Even as the significance of the fact that Sylus had thought it fit to make space for you within his very own — his home — was not lost on you.  

You remembered trying to sweep a kick to the back of his shins, back at the bar, for having you bodily dragged out into the sobering night air and towards where his car awaited, parked by the curb.  

“Let go of me, you big brute.” Those vexing vines of red had curled about your leg mid-motion, tugging you up sharply before your world upended and you’d been tossed unceremoniously like a sodden sack of rice onto the broad expanse of one of his shoulders. You’d dug your nails into his back in punishing protest at his audacity.  

Earning yourself a derisive snort for your efforts. “Continue pawing at me like that and I’ll have you trussed next, kitten.”  

Your mouth had curled into a silent snarl, thumping futile fists against his solid back. “Try me.” 

“Don’t think I won’t.” He’d warned mildly before he’d continued on his merry way, wide stride that had barely faltered with your struggles.  

You sigh in defeat, scrubbing your palms down your face in recollection of the memory — your reflexive annoyance at his actions stemming more from your own mortifying situation than any real anger at him.  

He’d brought you back to his place, closer from where the bar was located, instead of back home, where the two of you risked running into any of your acquaintances, Xavier for one.  

And you couldn’t afford to let the people around you know of the Onychinus head — Sylus understood that instinctually, even if you did not speak of it. Content though he seemed to perpetually keep you in a state of life-threatening heart palpitations with his goading ways; absently recalling how Sylus had been Tara’s first man of choice for her date plan, owing to how he’d found it fit to barge in on their last team retreat.  

Shaking your head, you press a hand against your forehead as you move to wipe your body clean, having opted for one of the more comfortable outfits to change into for the night, you’d brought over from your place to his during one of your earlier visits — amusement sparking at you to witness how Sylus had thought it fit to buy you a couple new dresses, to add to your sparse collection, hanging within your wardrobe. As if you two were something more than acquaintances and professional partners.  

Your mind really seemed to have free reign over mad thoughts tonight.  

A knock resounds through the quiet of the room, effectively piercing your thoughts. “Are you done yet?” His familiar, welcome burr sounds from the other side of the door.  

“I am. Come on in.” The handle glides open, revealing Sylus standing in the doorway, having swiped his outerwear for a casual dark red button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the firm strength of his forearms; a sight you aren’t able to tear your ogling from, as he steps into the room. He closes the distance in between you in three easy strides. Crowding you within a room that feels too small and sweltering all of a sudden.  

“Feeling any better now?” His voice wrenches your gaze away from the sliver of skin revealed beneath the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened.  

You sigh, cursing at licentious thoughts. This man, in his incinerating, sensual entirety, frustrated you to no end. “I am, Sylus. Thank you.”  

“Good.” He hums. “Because you should stay awhile, a day or two at least.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I have to make sure that weasel you had tagged to you tonight doesn’t try getting too smart. Mephisto caught him lingering close to your streets after the whelp bolted following his wretched stalking attempt.”  

The revelation has nausea stirring at your gut; what had you gotten yourself into with that despicable creep? You were going to throttle Tara the next time you saw her.  

You sigh. “While that is disturbing behaviour and I’m grateful for the concern but I think I could’ve handled that idiot fine on my own.”  

A frown belts at his brow. “He’s a colleague from work, isn’t he? Despite his absolute spinelessness, that weasel is a trained Hunter with an authorized weapon on hand.”  

You raise a questioning brow at him, half inquisitive how exactly he knew your date happened to be a work acquaintance. Barely a few hours spent on his radar and the sorry fool already had all his information scraped and into the Onychinus head’s clutches. You did not envy his position, at the moment, massive creep though he was, having stood witness to how Sylus wiped his enemies clean out of existence. 

“Sure you’re capable, sweetheart, and your weasel is an idiot but do you want to be vigilant, glancing over your shoulder for a stalker, round the clock?” He pitches his head, waiting for your answer.  

His words give you pause, his reasoning not entirely without weightage. You mutter a quick curse underneath your breath, frustrated at how terribly disastrous tonight had turned out to be.  

Sylus’ smile quirks, taking your expletives for the affirmation they are. “And besides,” his hand shifts against your cheek, skimming a thumb down the curve of it, “you did enthusiastically mention your hazardous luck with dates. Might as well take care of this one before the vermin starts to fester.”  

A skitter of irked embarrassment bruises at your ego. “Are you making fun of me right now?” 

“Not in the slightest.” His thumb has switched towards your bottom lip, trekking a ghosting path across the swell of it. A different kind of emotion spurts within your chest along with the simmering annoyance, at his testing touch. “On the contrary, I was going to make an offer, one of mutual benefit.” His voice skims an octave lower and scotches deeper into your belly. “What do you say? Would you like to hear it?” 

His searing touch drifts down your chin, sweeping against your jaw. You’re unsure of the mesh of emotions that are surging through you at his evocative touch; indignation, surprise, reluctance... desire. You can barely focus on the words issuing from his mouth.  

“Well?” He prompts. “I don’t recall taping your mouth shut, sweetie.” His thumb returns to caress a path across your parted lips as if to make a point; a hushed throaty laugh leaving him at the hitch of breath that action elicits. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s rousing you on purpose; the absolute scoundrel.  

“What’re you trying to say? Speak clearly, Sylus.” Your tongue darts forth to lap a quick path across the bottom of your lip; Sylus’ gaze rolling down your face to settle at your mouth when you do, a sudden simmer of heat flaring within blood-red.  “I despise riddles.” Another deep chuckle issues from his mouth, one that stirs into your belly without permission, much like the man himself.   

“What was it that you said earlier?” The tip of his thumb edges just past your lips. “Ah yes... you’ve never had a man make you come.”  

You flush at the recollection, cursing yourself for the umpteenth time tonight. You’d made a terrible mistake and you swore you’d never drink again, if it meant Sylus would just fucking drop it. Or you would, and the ground would swallow you whole. You’d confided a mortifying secret within a man who confounded you to no end.  

“So what?” A challenging grimace drags at your face, just as you sink a bite into his invading digit, hard. He does not so much as even flinch, his smile tugging wider instead. 

“What a spirited kitten I’ve lured into my hands.” He muses. “I like the face you’re making right now.”  

His eyes crinkle in at the corners, a mild thread of tenderness you think you catch streak through the simmering heat of his garnet gaze. It makes you want to turn away from the look, not wanting him to scrabble your heart any more than he has.  

“No,” A tapered index and thumb curve about your chin, firmly tempting your gaze back to him. “Don’t look away, keep your eyes on me.” 

And for that one instant, you listen. “My proposition is earnest, sweetie. Despite what your consensus may be, I’m quite fond of you, more so than you think.” Your breath snags in your throat at the admission; you’d be blind to not catch the clear insinuation in his words.  

His mouth skews into a smile. “Would you be averse to the idea of me showing you how it’s done?” He swipes at the swell of your bottom lip, his voice several octaves lower. Yes?” A sensual caress in the opposing direction. “No?” Your eyes flitter in hooded desire at the allure of his rich voice, scotching low into your belly to pool in between your clenched legs. 

You take a moment to inhale, slow, processing his words. Reaching a hand out to trace careful fingers against the strength of his jaw. “Do you realize the weight of what you’re implying, Sylus?” An inane question by all means. You’ve never known a man more self-assured in what he desires; you admit it’s rather arousing. 

“Oh, I do.” The distracting curve of his smirk pulls wider. “But do you, sweetheart?”  

Your fingers leave his face to drift across the open collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “You’ve been lodged in my mind for a long time.” You allow him a moment of that infuriating self-pleased smile. “Even without that pesky Evol of yours invading my skull.” Before you’re fisting his collar to rise on the tips of your toes to press your lips hard against that irksome, delicious mouth. 

Sylus’ hands curve about the give of your waist, fitting you firmer against the hard planes of him, without hesitance. He allows you free reign for a while before he chases your retreating mouth with his own, not sparing a moment of reprieve for the hungering breath you try and draw back into your lungs. His tongue slipping past your lips instead, granting you a taste and breath of what he alone affords you in that moment.  

Your hand flies to grip about the base of his neck, appreciating the firm musculature of his upper back that flexes beneath your touch when he moves to snare an arm about your waist. Fingers sinking harsh into your hip as he grinds you impossibly close to his body, siphoning the rest of your breath from your lungs.  

You’re near dizzy with the way his tongue licks into your mouth, tip teasing its way across the roof before it withdraws to slick a path against your wet bottom lip. You insist your grip harder against the back of his neck, dragging him back to you in the swelling smile he presses against your damp sighs — the drench of them flaming across your chest to pool low into your belly and settle deep in between your legs.  

Sylus lets out a low grunt against your skin — a sound that has your insides clenching in on desire — before his clutch upon the flare of your hip tightens, hand curving downwards about the swell of your ass before he lifts you up entirely on the strength of one firm muscled arm. The whimper you’re unable to tamp even against the aggression of his mouth, at his show of unrestrained desire.  

“Hold on tight now, sweetie.” He murmurs, sultry, against your lips. 

Sylus strides you both further into the room without breaking your kiss, the corded strength of his arm sturdy beneath your ass and you take that moment to appreciate what the position allows you access to, fully. Covetous fingers you run through the hair at the base of his neck to tug him into the kiss as you wish — his rewarding grunt in answer, warming your belly — against your mouth.  

Rushing down the buttoned line of his shirt, making quick work of undoing more of his buttons. A hand you slip past the edges of his shirt once the cloth against his chest is no longer impeding you, caressing your fingers against the hard planes of his pectorals. Sylus’ chuckle reverberates deep within your mouth, your fingers flexing into his shoulder at the sound. “Someone’s eager.”  

He stops at your bedside before he tosses you back onto the soft of your sheets. Not giving you the chance to even hoist yourself up on your arms before he’s towering over your body — crowded against his large frame.  

Chest heaving from the earlier stretch of your kisses and how he’d hurled you back onto the bed, you press a halting hand against his torso, playing at the lower buttons you weren’t able to undo earlier. Making hasty work of your remaining task before your fingers slide in welcome against the defined warmth of his abdomen.  

Your mouth parts in breathless wonder, eyes drinking him in voracious need, before they slip lower towards the straining length of his arousal through the placket of his pants — a sizeable bulge visible even through the pitch-black material. “Like you’re one to talk about being eager.” you quip, inquisitive digits dipping lower to ghost across the clothed length of him.  

His breath deepens at the touch, a thick chuckle slipping past his lips. “Point taken.” 

Your hand slips to curve against the swell of his cock above cloth, once more, feeling for the shape of him; larger than any you’ve had before, it sets a flitter of nervous anticipation into your chest. You want to see it, him.  

Sylus cocks his head at your inquisitive touches but doesn’t move to stop when your fingers work at the confines of his pants, until his arousal is far prominent beneath the remaining layer of his briefs. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight — he truly is big. Rather intimidating, entirely exciting.  

“Having fun?” He inquires, capturing your fingers in between long, tapered digits to bring them up to his mouth in a brushing kiss, a keen garnet gaze that refuses to relent from yours.  

“Yes,” you answer honestly.  

“That’s a good start.” He hums. “My turn.”  

Red and obsidian spiral about the length of your body, toying at the straps of your camisole, the edges of it at your belly before they’re dragging the material up across your body, and with the reveal of skin, Sylus’ eyes follow; the serrated intensity of his heated gaze, enough to have you try to squeeze your legs together on instinct to relieve some of the overbearing burn in between them.  

You can feel how mortifyingly wet you are, and yet in that moment, your mind cannot seem to muster shame.  

His thick fingers trail next across the waistband of your shorts — vined red making quick work of the ribboned bindings of the silken material before Sylus’ thumbs hook on either side, to drag your shorts and panties, torturously slow, down the plush of your thighs in one go.  

He’s hunching over to overshadow you entirely before you can make sense of it, face sinking close into the space in between your legs, hot gaze drinking in the sight of the thin strings of arousal that stretch from your pussy to your underwear before they bow and break into the sheets beneath. You watch him hum his approval, your head raised to observe the erotic picture he paints, in between your legs.  

A moan scratches free of your throat, your head falling back in shuddered pleasure when Sylus does not waste a single moment in ruining you; the broad pressure of his tongue you feel against the length of your quivering cunt as he swipes up a taste for himself before withdrawing once more.  

“Sylus.” You protest, fingers rushing to catch at his hair to pull.  

His gravelly laughter is devious against the inside of your thigh — so close to where you want him. “That’s a beautiful sound you’re making there, kitten.” He blows a hot breath against your centre, your pussy spasming at that bare action. “Let’s see if you’ve got any more of those for me.” 

“Sylus.” You try and let the irritation ring in your tone this time but all it sounds to your ears is a licentious plead.  

“I hear you, sweetheart.” He pulses a kiss against your outer folds. “I made you a deal, didn’t I?” He wrests his now loose shirt off his body before his touch returns to you once more, this time without the barrier of clothes in between you both.  

You're entirely vulnerable and naked underneath him, held to his mercies as his forearms flex about the pliance of your thighs as he hooks them about his broad shoulders. “You’re going to let me make good on my word tonight,” your legs spasm against his back — useless — as he keeps them held within steeled grips at your knees; large fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh. “and witness it too, with your entire body.”  

You feel the corded, hard strength of the muscles of his back flexing beneath the heels of your feet as Sylus ducks closer to your slit to suck at the pleasured bead of your apex. Your hips fly up on instinct at that first brush of stimulation, a moan crippled free of your lips. His smug smile you feel buried against your pussy when it gushes further against the skewed stretch of those lips.  “And you know I never renege on an agreement once made.” 

Your thoughts blank entirely the next time that adroit tongue lands against your drenched folds, his mouth swallowing you up entirely as he works at your slick with all the practised propensity of a devil set to wrecking you within your sheets.  

You’ve never had a man’s mouth down there before; you didn’t quite think it were possible to feel anything remotely close to what he was doing with your body at the moment.  

Sparks of jolting pleasure thrum throughout the length of your body, you’re not even fully aware of how hard you buck against his mouth. How Sylus thwarts each unconscious attempt of escape by dragging your pussy back to his mouth each time you squirm from the overwhelming sensation.  

His growl of pleasure is what drags part of your hazy attentions back to how white knuckled your grip is within his hair, tugging at the strands as if they were your sole lifeline to sanity. And you were beginning to suspect they were.  

Sylus’ knuckles brush against your tightened clit, knocking a groan of pleasure out of your throat. “You’re so wet.” He hooks a thick, tapered index up into your walls, clenching at his filthy words. “That’s it, sweetheart, keep doing that for me.” His laughter is a deep, hoarse sound. “I’m going to take all you’ve got for me.”  

He laps a path up against the junction of your thigh; a second finger teasing at the rim of your slit before it joins the first, in a slick easy slide.  

“Sylus,” You’re no longer caring; to your sounds, to the fact you’re dripping enough you’ve wet the sheets beneath his thrusting fingers. “Oh God, don’t stop. O-oh. God.” Not caring for the slight twinge of heat that sparks with the roll of your head to catch Sylus watching your entire downfall from in between the space of your legs; fervid scarlet gaze fixated to yours, the bow of your mouth in a constant, pleasured O curve as moans of senseless appreciation and babbled curses tumble from it. Even as his tongue laps a languid path against your outer folds, at screeching odds to the deft fingers he works into you.  

“Yes,” his growl is vehement, pleased. “Scream louder, no one’s going to hear you mewl down here, kitten. Let go.” The squelch of your arousal is loud within your ears, the pads of his terrifyingly nimble digits lighting up nerves against that one spongy spot deep within you that has stars wheeling within your wide gaze.  

And just as you think this is how he’s going to end you — the pinnacle of pleasure — he betrays your expectations once more with the hot slide of his tongue back against your clit. You nearly sob at the stimulation, a silent scream clawing up your bruised throat at how close you feel to breaking.  

“I-If you—” your words are garbled, hard to breathe. You're so, so close to a peak you’ve never fallen off of, in this manner before. “—I’m... hah, going to come.” Never had your own toys or hand or even another human, scrabbled your brains out this hard; a height so vehemently approaching, you’re afraid to fall. 

Sylus seems to understand you even through your incoherent babbling, stretching you open on his fingers in harder thrusts. “Then do it. Come on my tongue, darling.”  His mouth sucks the abused flesh of your clit deep into his mouth. A peak so in sight, you hurtle into it, your pussy spasming about his fingers, his mouth so hard, you’re near thrashing your limbs about the broad strength of his shoulders. Sylus creeps a hand beneath your ass, to lift your back and shove up deeper against his mouth as you sob out his name in senseless prayer.  

“That’s it, you’re so hot like this, you know that, kitten?” His guttural words, muted within your pussy and lost through the white daze of your prolonged orgasmic haze. Sylus continues to lap at you until you’re tumbling into buzzing overstimulation; the heavy weight of him like iron fetters at your legs as you weakly push at his face, his steeled shoulders in whimpered protest.  

“I— give me a break, Sylus.”  

He affords you a modicum of mercy, glistening mouth and chin withdrawing to rise from between the confines of your legs to fix a skewed grin at you. And when you meet his gaze, he makes a deliberate, erotic show of sweeping the broad of his tongue, slow, feral, against the edge of his upper lip.  

His fingers maintain their languid position still within your sensitive walls, each measured thrust has you shivering against the intrusion.  

You cup a hand about his strong neck, dragging him down towards your mouth. His voice low, heated in between the taste of yourself he sweeps into your mouth. “Enjoying yourself?” 

You secrete a hushed sound of approval against his exploring tongue. “I’ve never come this hard in my life,” you confess, breathless. “You’re crazy.”  

“I’ll take that as an enthusiastic compliment.” Knocking that smug grin of his only wider. And then, a softer whisper settles against your wet mouth. “You’re so good for me, sweetie. You drive me insane.”  

You withdraw from him to catch the simmering heat of his fervid desires and affection commingled within that scarlet gaze you’re so taken with. Sweeping a thumb at the clinging wetness of arousal, against the angle of his jaw, you marvel at the sensual sight he paints. “...I’m no different.” You meet his gaze, your honesty heavy on your tongue. 

He chuckles at the confession, canting his head to catch the plush of your thumb against his teeth, worrying at the flesh as he laves it up into his mouth on an obscene suck.  

The way he looks at you has arousal flushing anew within your cheeks; your insides clenching in on the fingers that languorously thrust into you, stretching you open. Lashes nearly trembling shut when his thumb traces a whispered touch against your clit before withdrawing, having your hips juddering up into his hand.  

Restless digits quiver down the length of his sculpted torso, working at releasing him from the rest of his un-wanted clothing; cut, well-tailored pants you’d more than once found yourself admiring him in but at the moment, you couldn’t survive a second longer without uncovering the entirety of his captivating body to your gaze. Sylus gently pulls out of your pussy to help you along, thick fingers running along yours at his buckle to slide is smooth out its confines before his Evol curls about the belt to toss it easy, at the side of his bed. His pants and briefs follow soon after and you nearly choke at the sight of him revealed at last to your gaze. 

Sylus’ cock is a devastating thing of beauty; thick and intimidating enough it has you salivating at the mere sight of it. You’ve never seen a man this big, blessed in both length and girth, it has your cunt clenching in on need at the sight of him. You wonder how he’d feel against your tongue if you tried taking him in, parched lips you wet with a swipe of tongue, parting at the thought.  

“Like what you see?” His self-pleased words wrench you out of your self-imposed stupor until you see that smug grin painting his face too. Your fingers delicately curve about the girth of him in a gentle squeeze; has grin falling open in a low, breathy laugh of arousal.  

Your fingers unable to wrap him up entirely within a fist, even as you stroke a slow, steady path up across his length. “You’re right,” you murmur in wanton desire. “I do like what I see.”  

“Such an honest tongue.” he groans low, in pleasure at your languid ministrations. Hooking a thumb at your bottom lip to tease it into your mouth and onto the wet muscle.  

“Honesty isn’t the only thing it can provide, you know.” You bait, in breathless, risqué whispers around the intrusion of his thumb in your mouth, sucking at him in imitation of what you truly desire from him. 

Sylus hums a pleased sound, withdrawing his finger to sweep it across your swollen lips. “Later.” He silences your protests with the wet ingress of his digits back into your walls. “You’ll have me, you have my word. But right now...” Your broken moan mingles with the guttural sigh that tumbles from his lips to witness your face shatter in pleasure. “we’re here to see how good I can make you feel, aren’t we, kitten? So, lay back.” He eases the flat of his palm in between your breasts to push. “And watch how else I ruin you tonight.” 

You moan at his filthy threat of a promise, hips rolling into the fingers he’s pressed into you, their rhythmic propulsions turning faster with each moment until he has your crest building once more. 

“Sylus.” you gasp out, fingers spasming around the wrist buried in between your quaking legs. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He draws down closer, body crowding yours against the sheets, the heat of his breath sultry against your sweat soaked skin. You feel the weight of his arousal ghost a searing path against your thigh and jump at the stimulation. 

“You.” you plead. “I need you so stop teasing me now, Sylus. I’ll—” 

His lips capture yours in an incendiary kiss, a violent clash of tongue, drinking your startled mewls up into his own as his fingers curl about the back of your head to hold steady underneath his assault. “You sure you’re ready for it?” He rolls his hips against yours once more in emphasis, making you shiver underneath the intimidating heat of his arousal. 

“I am, I can take it.” you insist against his wet tongue. “And even if I can’t, you promised you’d show me how good it can get, didn’t you?” You shiver. “So quit edging me any longer and put it inside me.” Your back arches in need at a particularly adept press of his fingers. “Sylus.” 

His answering groan at your fervent desires burns you higher, his soaked fingers dragging out of your clenching walls. “You really do know how to rile me up, don’t you, sweetheart?” Large hands settle about the swell of your hips as Sylus presses himself in between your legs. Letting the head of his cock, at long last, stroke at the wetness of your cunt, gathering moisture on to it. So close. 

His hips undulate in languid pleasurable strokes in between the fall of your legs, and each time the flared head of his cock bumps up at the tight bead at your apex, your hips try and jump against the caged strength of his hands holding you down. Every single stroke — up, down — has your breaths turning laboured in need, each single time he brushes down close to your hole, you clench in on instinctual emptiness, wanting to pull him deeper into you.  

“Some restraint, kitten. We don’t want you too overwhelmed too fast.” A low sound of disapproval soughs past his lips at your squirming. “Impatience is not a good look on a Hunter of your repute.” 

Your mouth falls open on a silent groan; hooking a leg about the snatch of his waist, you try and urge him into you. Earning an amused, guttural laugh for your efforts. “You’ve had me plenty ready. You’re just baiting me at this point.” 

“But you like me being this way, don’t you?” And God help you, if your brain wasn’t entirely mushed at what he’s done to you, you would’ve tried refute his observations with a lie of your own. But in this moment, you let him have his victory.  

Sylus curves a palm about the crook of your leg, fingers ghosting the underside of sensitive skin, up, until his hold catches at your knee. Keeping you fixed firm down onto the bed with the other, while he rolls his hips against you once more. “Keep holding tight,” he taps at your knee hooked at his back one last time before his hand drifts to curl about the base of his cock, pressing more of your slick up against the bulbous head.  

The first breach of him burns you open in pleasurable bliss, you hiss at the intrusion, back arching on instinctual chase of the man you’re so drunk on. Just the head in has you dizzy around him, grateful for the anchor of his large hand holding you grounded, at your hip.  

More of his member pushes past your rim; Sylus’ grunt of pleasure breaking in the tight scrunch of his brow in concentration. A thumb flits about your pinched bottom lip, end to end, before he’s coaxing it open with a firmer press of the pad of his digit against it. “Breathe for me, sweetheart.” You don’t think your body is capable of drawing air in at all but you try and trudge past the closure of your throat, gulping in a few, needed breaths. “That’s it, yeah, take me in. Slowly now.”  

It’s only when your body shudders underneath his with the ingress of almost his entire length settled into you do you realize the sheer, unyielding size of him inside, Sylus’ throaty groan of arousal, he bites into the sensitive skin of your wrist he’s had curled in between thick digits. Your cunt feels stretched impossibly wide around the shape of him, in a manner that has you whimpering on his next few testing strokes up into your walls. Sending him curling impossibly deep on each long, heavy thrust up into you until you feel him nudging, as if at the very ends of you.  

Your head rolls in restless need across the down of your pillows, your fingers skittering up the length of his arms, sinking harsh into the taut muscles of his biceps. Angry crescents you’re sure you’re marking into the skin but all it seems to do to him is make him push into you with greater need, approval heavy in the fervid grunts that issue from his mouth.  

One of his hands steals beneath your body to press in between your shoulder blades, guiding your body deeper against his as his hips piston into you. The wet squelch of your arousal heavy in the space, commingling with your damp, thick groans.  

Sylus withdraws from your body on his next slide, nearly all the way out, before he pulses back, slick, without resistance; each time, your body taken by the pleasant shock of how fully he sheathes himself into you, the stretch sending you into a dizzying spiral of mounting need.

And despite it all —  the hazy pleasure, his long, deep strokes into you — your ravenous body needs this man closer, a desire you aren’t able to word coherently. 

Sylus’ diligent handling of you — although, a gesture appreciated — is not what you require of him in the moment. He’s your first in so, so long; desires shuttered in since forever, along with the intense need to be thoroughly loved over by this man; your need to have him fuck you without restraint, after a heart so long spent in warring against its yearning for him, overflowing off the cusp of your poor control. Manifesting in the fingers you rush about the angled cut of his hips to squeeze, your legs tightening their hold at the back of his waist to pull deeper inside.  

Your eyes meet his in fevered haze; a slip of your tongue to drench parched lips, falling open to voice your desires before Sylus’ face crowds your vision. His mouth pulsing a quick kiss of violence against yours, it siphons your entire breath from your lungs at the aggressive curl of his tongue into you. “Alright,” he utters on a wet, hoarse whisper against your lips. No more questions, no more unsurety. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

He’s gingerly worked himself into you up to the near base of him when large hands move to grip on either side of your abdomen, the pads of them pulsing into the pliance of your skin — heated scaffoldings of flesh. Heralding the slow, squelching withdrawal of his cock from your depths up to the tip. Until Sylus plunges back into you with a force vehement enough you see stars white the scape of your vision with the audible slap of hips meeting the back of your ass.  

And it isn’t until he starts driving into you in that punishing pace, manoeuvring your body as if you were a mere doll meant to house his cock do you realize with primal joy that you love how he’s taking you. You’re delirious on the feeling of his cock ramming up into your walls — the massive stretch of him, each single inch of hot, unyielding flesh — hard enough he’s driving you up the sheets, your voice you do not realize is a shrill scream of pleasure.  

Everything — you, him, your hot, clenching insides around him — is all too much, all of a sudden, you’re drowning in the ecstasy of the feeling of him overwhelming your senses.  

And the man above, an unfettered beast; he folds you deeper into the mattress with the ardent swing of his hips, large hands gripping hard onto your waist as he guides your own weak thrusts back onto his cock with ferocious precision. Each single glide of the swollen head of his cock dragging him deliciously against that one spot inside that has you quivering apart around him. A deliberate assault of your sweet weakness. Truly, he knows your body as if he’d had you before several times already; the thought is as exhilarating as it is terrifying, having your pussy spasm around him on instinct, dragging a vicious growl out of him that has you whimpering at the sound.  

The sweat slicked concentration and fervid arousal that knits at his powerful brows is addictive, the heated flush of pleasure and effortless exertion — all of him an erotic sight, meant to throttle you into finishing ruin. The violent tatters of your orgasm you feel crumpling within your belly, fast approaching.  

You try and buck against his hips faster, pace paling in comparison to the near bestial propulsion of his cock into your depths. Sylus groans at a particularly harsh squeeze of your cunt; a hand leaving your waist to feather his knuckles against the drenched slide of sweat and tears at your cheeks you know are ruddy in desire. “You’re taking me so well, kitten, so deep inside that small body.” You might’ve offered a word of approval if your throat wasn’t so swollen from the breathless moans and ruinous pleas he’s knocking out of you instead. “You’re clamping so hard around my cock. Do you not want to let me go?” His large hand drifting against the lower stretch of your abdomen, before he presses the flat of his palm in deep, as if he could feel for the place his cock pounds up as if against your very womb, angling his hips to brush at the sensitive bundle of nerves at your apex and you nearly weep at the tight stimulation.  

“C-Clo—” is all the words your battered throat can manage out before your head’s falling back against the pillows, tear-strained gaze blown wide with the unrelenting intensity of his pillage of your body.  

But Sylus groans in approval, understanding of your broken prompts. “I’ve got you. Let that pretty pussy of yours weep more for me, sweetheart.” 

You moan unabated at the filth that issues from his lips, your body immediately moving to obey his instruction in the spasm of your walls.  

His hand slides against the length of your hooked leg to hoist it up and over a broad shoulder as his large frame arches over you, nearly folding you in half. The new angle driving each of his wild thrusts hard against your swollen clit. Your back nearly snapping with the force of its curve up towards him with your next shrill scream of his name. “What a perfect, perfect girl for me.”  

You're no longer coherent, a garbled speech and cotton head your constant companions — only dimly aware of the muted sounds of wood striking against concrete walls as Sylus drives your body violently up against the headboard. The distant absence of pain you only realize is possible when your cheek curls sideways to sink against the simmering warmth of the red and obsidian mesh of his Evol, keeping your head pillowed against the strength of his thrusts.  

His face descends towards you, a thick hand easing beneath sweat soaked locks to grip at your neck, holding firm for the ravenous mouth that plunders yours, choking your moans against his tongue. Your spit trails useless past swollen lips, Sylus’ tongue immediately following a broad path against your jaw, your chin to lick at the combined essence of sweat and spit. His guttural moan at the taste, sending you nearly into your orgasm, so close at hand, you’re spasming useless about the great length of him. 

Long, tapered digits flex about the delicate expanse of your neck, coaxing your pleasure-drunk gaze up towards his.  “The way you’re looking right now...” You catch the flex of his other arm at the corners of your vision as it slinks in between your bodies. “a man could get addicted, sweetie.” His thumb presses against the abused bead of your apex in that instant, knocking a scream free of your parched throat, body arching in the slick slide of your breasts pressed flush against the broad planes of his chest. Even that stimulation at your nipples is too much; the heat in between your legs tempered to an inferno.  

The precise, perfect strikes of his cock into your walls, along with the insistent pinch and press of your clit in between adroit index and thumb has your crest rising. White hot heat undulates through your entire body. The merciless sting of a delicious bite you feel Sylus sink at your straining neck, right beneath your jaw, “Come for me now, sweetheart,” accompanying the hammering thrusts of his cock, his thumb at your bundle of nerves is what finally has you ripping apart on an orgasm so intense your gaze blanks entirely.  

Jaw falling open on a shriek so unlike yours, you do not recognize the sound of your own battered voice until Sylus presses two thick digits into your slack mouth to toy at your wet tongue as if he could capture that sound for himself. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His pace unrelenting through the violence of your orgasm, stretching your own peak so long, spasming about the wet heat of him until Sylus’ hips too stutter as he finds his release into your welcoming depths.  

Pulse after pulse of ejaculate so abundant, hot, it drives you into another release — or perhaps, you’d never even stopped coming — a pinnacle so high, your fall from it is prolonged, pleasurable. Your mouth sucking hard at his fingers, willing them to serve your anchor.  

Sylus’ gaze meets yours from across the small pocket of space in between your faces, heated and stifled with your breaths. Scarlet eyes, simmering, pupils blown so wide in low settling arousal as the two of you breathe deep in unison. Several moments of reprieve, you allow your bodies as you come down from your highs.  

A small part of you distantly realizes a single session with Sylus has effectively ruined you for life and you’re unsure if you’re bemoaning the fact or thrilling in delight at it. You think you just might be far more infatuated with this infuriating man than you’d initially thought and the notion of being this adoring of him mildly terrifies you. Just as the sliver of tenderness that threads through that garnet gaze as he pushes back sweat soaked strands from your face to study you. “You alright there, sweetie?”  

You can’t deny it any longer. “Never been better.” you wheeze past a sore throat. And God help you, the grin that skews at his beautiful mouth at your answer has your heart refusing to settle into rest, even after your mind-numbing release.  

“That good, was it?” You do not have the energy to refute him, settling for a light slap at his bicep. 

His arms flex about your body before he rolls you both over. Releasing himself, slow, from your depths — you groan weakly at the muted stimulation before he hoists himself onto his arm.  

You reach a hand forwards, curving it about his face, thumb sketching at the angle of his jaw. “Stay with me tonight.” you ask of him quietly.  

Mild surprise flickers within blood-red garnet before it’s replaced by the tender quirk of a strong brow. “Didn’t plan on leaving, sweetheart.” He tips his head further into the crook of your palm, pulsing a quick kiss onto the skin. “Sleep tight, now. Your eyes are glazing over.” 

And for that one moment, you listen, letting the warmth of his engulfing embrace shepherd you into dreams of scarlet eyes and amused smiles — the only ones you’ve been able to think about for a long time now. 

End Notes: Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @chocomii-chan

If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here. If you’d like to be removed, shoot me a DM!

You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter, if you’d like to chat or just squeal with me about hot characters, in general.

"She slapped you?"...MC ..she slapped you!?"

Sylus: - See, But she chose to put her hands on me. me. And God, it makes me smile to think she willingly put her hands on me... She chose to slap me...

" I- ...."

₊˚｡⋆✰ rest well ✰⋆❀˖

- xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ, ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ, ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ -

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exhausted, your weakened body laid on the bed that was soiled in you and his liquids; your legs still trembling from the intense orgasms you've just experienced, your breaths rushed and hard to contain and your muscles sore with knots.

"that was so good- owwuh! my back :("

you complained, your right hand reaching back to carreras your lower back from anymore painful shifts. a soft hand reached over as they slowly and gently pressed into your skin, immediately making you moan out.

XAVIER

laughs at you 'n helps you sleep

"you okay? that sounded very...intimate.." xavier teased with a slight chuckle to his voice. suddenly, his legs straddled yours, his hand instantly going to work and fondling your skin.

a loud moan escaped your mouth, a couple of hisses and soft groans following after, your hand coming to your mouth to silence yourself. "mhm..xavier-" you hummed as xavier gently moved your hand back to grab the sheets.

"nuh uh, let me hear you baby." his voice nearly made you fold, your stomach empty with love as you rested your head down as fast as your body could.

the weight that rose from your shoulders was enough to make your submit to sleep, your eyes struggling to focus on the task at hand. a small moan followed after your yawns, his hands always so good at moving you around and pleasuring you.

"hm? love?" he whispered, you didn't move.

"baby...?" he spoke loudly, you didn't move.

moving his head forward, he could see the softness of your face, the fatigue on your skin. he let out a soft chuckle.

"sleep my love."

ZAYNE

makes sure your just fine 'n runs you a bath

"even a simple touch makes you moan." his hands dig deeper into your fragile skin, caressing and shifting it into new places. his mouth releasing slow and soft kisses onto your back.

"shut up- *gasp* oh my goshhh.." he really knew how to shut you up quick. his words of praise and encouragement didn't go to waste, a little smile on your lips as you rested into the bed. a small giggle filling his ears as his hands went to a more sensitive place.

"no sleeping yet, we're dirty." he reprimanded with a soft slap to your cheek, zayne's legs moving from straddling your thighs. his hand holding your waist to flip you. "noo...i'm tired."

"leave the sleepy you on the bed and let's go before i make you." zayne grabbed your hand before lifting you up over his shoulder. "OHHH my GOSHH-"

"wow this so warm..." you admired, zayne had finally managed to place you into the bath but now that you've been in here for ages there's another problem.

"you've said that for the last 15 minutes, let's. go." he scolded, a towel around his waist showing his v line, his hand holding your towel. a scoff running from his mouth.

"Let's.Go."

"OKAY..okay....,"

"..5 more minutes?-" "No."

RAFAYEL

teases you, verbally and physically

his hand nearly stopped, a teasing gasp escaping his mouth as he ran his hand in your hair. "is my effect that amazing on woman?" he continued, cutting you off as you spoke, well at least tried to.

"you're so tenseee, what's been going on sweet?" whispering softly into your ear, rafayel's hands kneaded into your skin, his mouth leaving kisses and gentle marks all over your neck and lower back...down to your ass.

"nothin'...i'm just tired probably- ouch! what the fuck?!-" you turned your head, revealing the sight of rafayel biting down on your ass cheek, his other hand relentlessly snatching the other bag of flesh. "get offfff!!!" you whined, kicking your legs.

"ow! ow! relax!" he let go of you, your legs still pounding on his back as you forgot who had the upper hand here. before you could even get a say, he pinned your legs down again, his hands grasping your neck slightly as murmured, his hot breath resting on the back of your ear.

"stop it. you know...i don't like it when my woman is disobedient...matter of fact,"

in a swift motion, you found yourself on your back with your hands bounded about your head. a gasp escaping your lips as you felt his cock near your entrance.

"rafayel?-" "i don't think i've fucked the brat out of you yet. don't blame me if your sore in the morning, i'm not holding back this time."

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do not steal @aly4khq 's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 5-8/06/24

❀˖⋆❀˖ - i really cried - ❀˖⋆❀˖

- ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ -

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- sub rafayel! -

"mhm..fuck." you moaned into his ear as his hands grasping your hips as he moved you to grind on his crotch, his body shivering as your wet spot on your panties brushed over his huge bulge. rafayel's whimpers calling onto deaf ears as he tried to relax into your touch. his hisses of sensitivity was beauty to your ears. "come on rafa, stay awake for me pretty."

your words went straight to his cock, the pretty thin hitting his stomach with precum; making a mess on you and his thin layer of clothes. as he moaned, you hand went to his throat, grabbing it with love before latching your mouth onto the exposed skin, leaving a lovely hickey and a bite to mark him as your own. there was nothing but lust in your mind.

"f-fuck!" in a swoop, his boxers were off? thrown somewhere in the room. Lifting your hips, you seductively took of your panties, waving them around.

"baby! please..please i want you- touch me-" his words turned into mumbles and murmurs as you stuffed your panties into his mouth, his tongue savouring the taste. "shush, i'm getting tired of your whines."

you used red rope from your favourite sex shop to tie his hands to the headboard, his eyes closed as your hole teased his tip. his cock twitching and shivering at your touch, the sensitivity making you giggle. "how cute rafa." "mmmhmmm!"

you slammed your hips down, as he let out a muffled moan, his hand already fighting against the ropes as you rode him like your life depended on it. your ass hitting his thigh with a harsh impact, your hands on his shoulders as you bounce ruthlessly. feeling generous, you took your underwear out of his mouth.

"fuckkkk-ahh!! baby-" he was cut off by your lips as you continued to overstimulate his body, love in your actions. the air smelt like sex, heavy sex. he whimpered as his head threw back, his eyes producing tears. "babyyy! you can't ride me like this!-"

you softened at his whines, knowing that if the role were switched he'd do the same. your hand wiping at the soft liquid on his cheeks. "it's okay baby, nearly over."

the sounds of skin slapping was enough to make him cry, he's never been ridden so hard before. he's never been ridden before period. his moans were always so beautiful, and they always told you when he was close. just like now.

"ahh! ohhh baby i'm gonna cum- i'm gonna cum! mhm, can i please cum?" you smirked, kissing his forehead like you weren't riding him to death. "of course baby."

a few more bounces later, thick cum sprouted up your walls, spreading around the messy bed you already had. your own release mixing with his as he yelled out your name. lifting your hips a little, you using your index finger and your middle finger to scoop up your cum, letting him taste. "mhm, delicious right?" he nodded.

he calmed down sooner or later, his eyes nearly fully closed. "oh my gosh, i've never cried during sex before." he whined before staring into your eyes. "damnnn baby! how did you fuck me so good then i cried?!" "it's just who i am."

"i really cried." "and you're gonna cry again." "oh no D:"

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never wrote sub before! 🙈

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 22/07/24

i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.

- 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -

- 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼 -

word count: 2.3K

warnings: a little degrading, one singular slap, pet names, aftercare, slightly rough sex, mc is a troublemaker!

theme: crack filled smut

enjoy!

"ughhhh!" you laid in sylus' bed, awaiting his return from whatever hell spawn mission he went on. the soft silky sheets smelt of his expensive cologne, mixed with his shampoo that could be smelt better on his actual pillow. as time went by, his presence still gone, rage grew in you yet your mind pushed you to let him off—

CAWWWW!

"shit!" you exhaled as the sound of mephisto echoed around the massive bedroom. your eyebrows furrowed before you met eyes with the deafening crow that sat on top of the door. confusion and a slight annoyance overtook the rage as you lightly scolded the bird. "wha?- get down!", your hand flailed around, trying to convince it to retreat to your side— which just like its owner, didn't listen. instead going on the other way, mephisto's yells and squeals became louder.

after a while, the devilish bird came back, screaming your ear off before running in the same direction. your brain pushed you to let it to, yet your instinct told you to go after it's call. like before, mephisto came back, yet it was silent. but before anyone could speak, it left. "oh my gosh- mephisto wait!"

chasing after it, only a glimpse of black feathers helped you navigate around the mansion. a presence was falling behind, and you knew it. it was strong and make you feel...mind controlled. as you ran through the decorated walls, the lovely red painting and accessories made you fall in love with the scenery. the adoration for the colour red.

"what is that bird on about.." you murmured to yourself, a hand resting on your temple as you thought deeply. mephisto's shout abruptly came to a halt. He brought you to a mirror, one that you always looked in to test out your clothes. "damn, were you trynna tell me that my hair is beautiful?-"

CAWWW!

"excuse you! where's your matters!" scoffing, you grabbed a nearby hairbrush, brushing out the heavy coils of hair as it became fluffier. looking around, you secured the area before speaking. "just like your owner, firstly you get my attention, leave and return then you insult me!..how—"

"rude?" ...oh no. your body tensed up as a red and black mist shot out from the darkness, wrapping around your arm. gentle yet possessive, that mist flipped you around, pinning you against the mirror as a hand wrapped around the other, pinning it onto their waist. a few gasps and yelps coming from your now smaller figure. "am i really rude to you? or are you sensitive, sweetie?"

scoffing, your hands tried to fight against his tight grip, your mind questioning his strength. "no! you're just mean-gasp..! what is that?!" your eyes fell upon the deep gash in sylus' waist, reaching from his right lower hip straight across to his left upper torso. "none of your concern, why are you up so late?" his hand let go, as well as his evol as your hand fell onto your hips, making your way towards him.

"i was waiting for you, then somebody started yelling and running- or should i sat speed flying- to the mirror." a deep chuckle erupted from sylus, his body sat down on the sofa facing opposite to the mirror; a mischievous smirk on his face. his wounds soon enough disappeared as that same mist grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap. his chest to your back as his hand laid on your thighs.

"i thought i told a certain someone to go to bed," you hissed as he pinched your side. ", i never knew my woman would be so eager to go against my orders." his eyebrow lifted as his gently hand turned your face towards him, his expression naughty yet sweet. "i didn't go against your orders. i was curious and you said you'd be home in an hour! it's been 2 and a half!"

your rage grew as he pushed your lower back down, his hand lifting up your his shirt before checking your back for the tattoo that laid on your skin. the words, 'SYLUS' in cursive just below your spinal tattoo. "good." a huff escaped your mouth as you hit his leg, "you think it would be gone? it can never go away at and neither can i. don't be idiotic— ow!

his teeth latched onto your neck a he sucked the skin harshly for your comments, making sure to create new hickeys around your body as well as your back. his lips dancing around your skin as you shivered. "okay! okay! i get it!- ah! i get it!" only did he then stop, placing a soft kiss on your neck before his lovely deep voice filled your ears. his finger spinning around as he laid back, "turn."

turning around to face him, your hands pushed down on his shoulders. your eyes full of dominance yet they didn't top his. a deep desire in your chest as an intimate idea came across your mind. his eyes travelling down your body until it stopped on your hand that was also descending down. he hissed as you suddenly pressed your hand onto his crotch, giggling under your breath. "who said you could to do that?"

"me, obviously." you giggled, loving how he reacted to your touch. you tested him endlessly, kissing his neck before rubbing his slowly growing bulge. "provoking me is not a wise choice..." just as his hips buckled from the sensation, you slowly came off of his lap, happily rubbing onto his body. it was fun to tease sylus. until it was not. in a few seconds, you went from upright to in the air...over his broad shoulder. you squirmed around, pounding on his back, "let me downnn! you psycho!- AHHH, sylus no joke i'm gonna fall!-"

you kicked your legs as an attempt to get him to let go but he continued to play with you in his arms, moving you down his back and quickly retreating you. making it seem like a rollercoaster, all under his control. "shh, you're gonna wake up everyone in the N109 Zone." in his tone held a warning, a playful tone yet he had no hesitation to put you in your place. "i don't care- let me go you bastard! his hand gripped your thighs harder, second warning.

closing your eyes, the feeling of your comforter met your back as he pulled away from you, undressing from his dirty work clothes placing them into the laundry basket. "wait here." you watched as his figure disappeared into the shower room, the open space soon enough filling with steam. the urge to go in there was overwhelmingly strong, you wanted him. all of him for tonight before he's off again doing who-knows-what. an over exaggerated sigh came from your position on the bed as he took his sweet time.

once he came out, his body was drenched in water droplets, his v-line just showing before his towel blocked the rest of him. "you seem troubled by something." using another towel, he dried his hair awaiting your answer. "nothing..." his head turned around, eyes glaring into yours, instantly spotting your lie. "fine then, if you'refine then pass me my robe." you jumped up, a chance to touch him at least!

as you gave him his robe; your hand went to his shoulder, basically forcing him to stare into your eyes— which were non-surprisingly filled with neediness. his frown expression changed to a confusion and curious one, his eyebrow rising as you slowly moved your hand down..to his pecs...even further to his abs, nearly accomplishing your mission before his own hand grabbed your wrist. a sigh coming from above you, once you looked up, his eyes told you enough, "go to bed."

like always, you furrowed your eyebrows, a deep pout coming at your lips as you shook your head no. "what do you mean no?" "i don't want to sleep.." you moved your night dress a little, lightly flashing your tits at him. "you dare devil.." finally!, you thought. "but it's too late. and you need to sleep, we have an important auction to be at tomorrow." "awhhh..."

scoffing, he dragged you onto his bed, where you also originally was supposed to be. at first, you thought that he'd want to indulge in your sexy fantasies; dicking you down until you only remember his name. but to your misery, he sat beside you before tucking you in. angrily, you pushed the duvet off of you and him. "no!- sylusss! i wanna fuck ." he chuckled, looking down at you with a smirk, "how explicit, but you know the drill. beg baby." you whined, getting on top of him, grabbing his waist in your small hands before latching your lips onto his. your tongues hugging each other as your hand reaches up for his face, caressing the soft skin as his hand wrapped around your hip.

"if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me instead." you rolled your eyes before trying to get off his lap, when a strong grasp held you back. "excuse me? repeat that." and if we recall back to before, it was clear of what will happen next.

'..he had no hesitation to put you in your place.'

feeling reckless, you looked back at him, staring into his blooming eyes. "if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me inst-" a large hand went around your mouth, forcing your head back as you felt sylus move from underneath you. "you just love to play with fire, don't you?" he flipped you over, so he was straddling your the back of your thighs. lust surrounded the room and filled the air as you fought against the hand restricting you from speaking before whining. his touch hypnotising as the familiar hands went into his bedside drawer.

in the meantime, he used his evol to rip your night dress off, throwing it somewhere in the room before grabbing your hands. "mhmm!-" "shut up." feeling the coldness of handcuffs, a deep groan came from the depth of your body, your legs kicking as you awaiting for his next move. a sharp, heavy blow landed on your right ass cheek, as your head lifted in a gasp of shock— and excitement — , the sting painful on your skin. you shook your body as an attempt for him to caress the now blooming with red skin. a little chuckle vibrating behind you as his hands rubbed at your ass, shaking the flesh to make it move. "how hypnotic."

"look at this tight hole," he spread your ass open with his hands, before spitting directly on your asshole. in a gentle manner, he let you speak, unravelling his evol. "have you ever been fucked here before?" you were about to ask where, when he circled your hole with his thumb, a delicious shiver filling his ears. "no...why?" his hand found space in your curls before turning your head to the side lovingly, his eyes softened. visible fear of hurting you in any way appeared in his eyes, his eyes scanning your expression. "do you want to?" your face went through all of your emotions like a wheel before it finally chose one. a playful smirk came upon your lips.

"...heck yeah. give me what you got big boy!-" "mood's gone."

(1,813 word count so far)

"mhm! ah!- sylus...it's nearly 4am! please, t'much-" "you can handle it." your sore and tired body was about to give in if it wasn't for sylus' hands occasionally moving your hair or tapping at your face, a reminder to stay awake. it's been around 4 hours, he gave you a little break before hand, making sure that he didn't overstimulated you too much. but as soon as he filled you with his load, hopefully giving you his child, his hands let you down slowly, resting your now fucked out body onto his black sheets.

"how pretty, you okay?" he spoke out to you as you nodded. but that's not a good enough answer for him. "words" a whine escaped your body right after you yawned, "yes.." he kissed the back of your head from behind you, slowly getting off of the bed to get you a wet towel, unknowing to the obvious stains on the sheets. but by the time he came back, he noticed them, a sigh from his chest as he lifted you up and into the bath he had prepared. "where are you going?", a soft voice came from the bathroom as sylus took off the sheets, putting them in a bucket separate from his other laundry. gently, he placed down another sheet, making sure it was straight before dazzling it with his favourite sheet scents. "changing the sheets, a little hunter couldn't contain all of me."

you scoffed, "no. you have mediocre dick. that's all me." the warmth of the water soothing your muscles with a relaxing smell. the air contained the lovely smell of body wash, takking control of your body as sleep snuck into the atmosphere. "i will fuck you in that bath right now until noon." his figure appeared in the bathroom as he walked over. "alright! you have the best dick game ever. 10/10."

he smirked before getting in with you, scrubbing your back with a cloth; making sure to rub into your skin. "damn..you're good with your hands." you complimented, your head reaching back as he continued his massage. "heard that before." he chuckled after before you followed, "shut up."

both of you were snuggled into the newly placed sheets, the smell gorgeous as he held you to his chest, arms locked around your waist as one of your legs were wrapped around his hips. a giggle coming from you as you got comfortable. a grunt came from the man above you, "stop playing. it's already the morning. and you're gonna complain for sleep."

you were gonna protest and argue back but the firm squeeze on your side was enough to silence you, "yes sir." lifting your head, he planted a soft kiss onto your lips; full of protection and love. you pulled away, feeling his smile of your forehead, your hands hugging his chest as you smiled. who knew that the lead of onychinus could be so sweet? "go to bed sweetie."

CAWWWWW!

"you too, mephisto."

i got bored in the end i'm sorryy 😖💔

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 25/07/24

i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.

- 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃! -

- 𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻, 𝔃𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮, 𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓵, 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼 -

tags: breeding kink, squirting, belly bulge

word count: 601

"come on..." the intoxicating scent of your body was a drug, spreading your list over to him as your hips slammed down mercilessly on his thighs, using his shoulders to balance yourself. his smug expression slowly disappeared as his head rolled back, his eyes sealed shut. the whimpers filling your ears as you tried your best to keep yourself going. "fuck xavier-" he was so long it felt like he was trying to burst through your uterus; yet the pleasure only had you begging and bouncing more on his cock. your head flying back as you moaned out loud.

there was a overwhelming tension in your stomach, the intense feeling slowly but gently took over your stamina and strength. your movements began to differ, xavier's hands around your waist in and instant. "no. keep going." his eyes became dark, a mission in mind. you tried but the strength in your legs was nearly gone, a huff coming from you as you shook your head no. one thing about xavier is that he will always go by his word, and if you were going to do it, he will.

with a simple lift, he thrusted into you while still bouncing you up and down. your head finding its way to the crook off his neck as your moans were cut off at every thrust, "ah!- uhhh-xavierrr...oh my gosh.." you called out; your nails digging into his soft skin scratching the surface. the orgasm you were holding it earlier was too strong to overcome, submitting to it as a deep moan came out as a cry, damn you needed some good dick and you got it. he groaned before possessively grabbing your chin in his soft hands, "who do you belong to?" you whined, every time you connected it was enough to make you sob, but to avoid further consequences you made yourself speak. "y-you..ahh!"

"you wanna cum baby? hm?" he teases, thrusting harder knowing that you can't speak, the feeling of him so deep. it felt like he was in your throat, your eyes full of tears. "mhm..please.." your lips sucked on his neck, trying to keep your mind in control; your other hand in his hair, tugging on the soft white locks as his head lifted a little.

his cerulean soft glare meeting yours with a smile, his hands rubbing at your back as he thrusted upwards, "what do you want, should i cum into this little pussy of yours?" his hand rested on your lower stomach , pressing against the appearing bulge. your head nodded aggressively, more whines filling the room. his beautiful face stared as you nodded, gently rubbing a hand down your hip to your thigh, "words."

"yes...please.." a small chuckle from xavier was enough to make you shiver. soft lips meet each other messily as the two of you let your bodies take over, "how sweet." he replied, pushing once more into you before a clear liquid gushed out of you at fast pace, his cum shooting up into your pussy. a deep wail came from above as he kissing your chin, both of you trying to relax yourself. it was so intense, you felt...more messy. staring down, you noticed xavier trying to hide his laugh. confused, you glared down to see the mess on both of your stomach and the bed. after your mind realised, a whine followed. your head hiding in his neck, extremely embarrassed, "i did not just do that-" his laugh cut you off, his head leaning back, "i didn't know you were that pent up."

tags: bondage, clit rubbing, light overstim

word count: 719

you held onto his desk, your nails digging into the material as the rest of your body hit zayne's pelvis; his hands tightly wrapped around your waist. the position you were in made it harder for you to take a break, since he could easily slap your thighs in o being you back to work, "you're perfect for me.." he whispered in your ear, his hands slowly travelling down to your clit, softly rubbing it with precise. moans and squeals gradually became louder the faster he rubbed, his fingers correlating with his praise; the pace of his hand was steady yet overwhelmingly fast. your hand falling down to grasp your thigh, back arching as your head rested on the table.

his chest vibrated a little against yours as he pulled you back further onto his cock, splitting you apart. "oh- it's too much-" a sharp inhale make everything worse, the coil your stomach brutal as it burnt your stamina. "let it out, don't be shy." he ran a hand up your back, moving down on your waist to your hip. "so pretty for me." just as you gasped, that tight coil snapped roughly, the liquids of your love spreading out onto his legs and the chair. your body breathing deeply, trying to get your stamina back. zayne is a very careful yet teasing man, he's a little bit of a secret kink lover. he stared at your gorgeous body, his mind going through every emotion possibly. he had a few ideas in mind and he's gonna show them today.

you felt his hand rise, his body moving a little as he took his first few buttons of his shirt off. you tried to look behind to see what he was doing, only to be met with a pinch on your side instantly making you look back in front of you. he sat up properly, slightly moving you upwards as gravity brought you down. a hiss escaping your mouth as he grabbed your wrists. "remember when i grabbed your wrists during training,". oh shit.

your memory came back, you remember that day. you two were sparring in the training room just to be on track when he pinned you down onto the mat, his big hand wrapped around your wrist easily while the other pressed ok your upper back. he was sat on the back of your thigh, not properly but just enough so you could shift around. but something unusual happened. a moan filling his ears, he didn't even realise that it was..that type of moan until he stopped moving. "did you just..?-" "no i didn't. it's a lie and you're hallucinating." his eyebrows furrowed before letting you up, smirking. "sure."

he tied your hands behind you with his tie, and as much as you tried to disobey and pull away it seemed impossible. the knot was secure and if you moved in the wrong way it'll get even tighter. "i always told you. i'll show you how surgeons tie knots." just as he spoke, he grabbed your waist, a silent way of telling you to start riding or he'll do it himself. you scofffed, moving your hips up and down on his dick, his groans filling you with motivation as you continued, letting out a shiver as his dick twitched inside of you. the motion between you too rough and fast, the tension nearly breaking him. "oh shit..!"

"just like that..fuck..." he grabbed your flesh in his hands, squeezing your thighs with both of his hands. leaving a kiss on your back, a smile appeared at your lips as you continued, riding him with the best movement you could. his hands massages your scalp as he slightly pulled on your hair, "zayne- i'm close...mmph!" unexpectedly, just as both of you were about to release, he gave you a pointed thrust. a loud moan coming from the lips as you came together. you gently rode his pelvis as he hissed pushing you up a little from his sensitive cock. "alright...give me a second." you giggled, before tilting your head towards your arms. "didn't know you like bondage, doctor." he stared at you, his glare intense. "don't call me that.." you protested, staring down at him, "or what?"

to your surprise, you felt him hardening inside you again. "oh no-"

tags: bondage, blindfold, overstim

word count: 682

rafayel was on a chair in his room, his eyes intensely glaring you with those galaxy eyes of his. his hands bound behind his back with red rope. his eyes watching you slowly undress, letting your bra strap run down your arm; his body trying to escape from the restraints, your body turning around as you placed your bra onto his lap. his eyes widening at the gesture before staring at you, love and obsession in his facial expression. he watched you take off your panties— the one he bought that matched his eye colour— just to seduce him, the lace hypnotising him as he let out a shaky whimper. "baby please...you're killing me." yet his voice was soft and gentle, his stare and his desire to touch you wasn't as nice.

you walked around him, letting your lingerie running up his abs to his shoulder then around his neck before stopping behind him, putting your arms down his shoulders, touching his skin while your face came to his neck. his body shivered as a response to your touch, grabbing a smile from you. "so sensitive already? this is gonna be a short night rafayel." he scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed. his response as sassy as ever, "more like a long night if you don't go faster." you smiled against his neck before pulling his hair a little, rafayel hissing in response.

your lips latched onto his neck as you circled around, only pulling away to retrieve his dick in your hand, sitting down on it. his head rolled back due to your abrupt change in position. "s-shit! why are you in such a rush?" your stare was enough to make him realise his fate, his eyes closed before they watched your motions as he breathed heavily, "wait-" it was too late, your body was connecting with his hips. he groaned before cursing, your own moans connecting with his. "you just love to be sassy don't you rafayel?" you had a good feeling that he was planning something. but soon enough your mind was changed as he sighed, "it's just who i am-"

you bounced harder, making sure that he was struggling. the force of your hips hitting the air out of his lungs before you started to slow down. "no..come on." he whined out, staring at you with a slight irritation, yet it was all playfully. just as you were paying attention, in your peripheral you saw the rope burn into nothing and disappeared. "rafayel!-" a piece of cloth came to over your eyes, shocking you. your hands went to touch the fabric when they were swiftly grabbed, your wrist exposed as he bit your hand.

"you just love to think you have control of me," rafayel grabbing your hips, before roughly pulling you hard onto his dick. the tip reaching that sweet spot in you as you gasped, not able to see. "ahh! rafa!-" he continued, you could barely speak. the thrusts he was giving you were so passionate. you could feel him in your throat, your breasts moving with your body as you were rapidly moved. he latched his tongue onto your skin, making sure to leave his mark big a clear of you. "my woman."

he grabbed your nape, pulling you to his lips as he deeply kissed you, his dick still stimulating your body. he pulled away before kissing your neck, leaving purple marks everywhere. his other hand went down, slapping your pussy and rubbing your clit with effortless power. "uhhh..uh! please..ahh!" his touch was too much, leaving you an overstimulated mess. he was merciless, making sure that you felt every single thrust he was giving you. "take it." he pulled you in again, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of speaking. he shoot loads— and i mean loads— of his cum into you, giving you just enough tension to let go. both of you huffing as you finally pulled away, "oh...my gosh.." you fell onto his chest, he chuckled before taking off your blindfold. "you're pretty when you've been fucked nicely."

"...what the fuck even happened?"

tags: impact play, degrading (whore + slut), railing

word count: 774

you sat on top of him, your hands resting on his shoulders as a deep groan came from you. he's currently pretending to be bored, making you do the work. you want him to rail you, yet he wants you to ride him so no one you are gonna do anything until you start riding him because what he says goes and he's too stubborn. "fucking wanker.." his deep, blooming red eyes met yours with a slight annoyance, his hands grabbing your neck before holding you to his face. "who are you talking to?" now, you had two options; submit and apologise, riding him or stand on business and talk back. and if he thinks you didn't pick two then he better shoo. "who else is being a bitch?" you narrows you eyes as him, grabbing his throat back. sylus stared at your dumbfounded for a second before he turned stern, and that's where you messed up big time.

he grabbed the riding crop from underneath his bed before making you stare at him, his glare nearly making you fold. "start, before it gets messy." huffing and puffing, you lazily bounced up and down barely lifting your body, letting out fake moans and your arms crossed. "ahh oh my days..sylus i guess.." you didn't even realised how visibly sylus' rage was increasing, his tongue poking at his cheek. just as you were gonna make another snarky comment, a harsh sting landed on your ass, your hands pushing on his chest. "ow! what the hell?-" he landed another harsh blow, moving your hands. "you anger me so badly. do as i say." he rose his hand again before you finally submit, grabbing the riding crop. "okay! damn?

you lifted your hips before falling down onto him, letting your confidence take you down the path of lust as the pace quickened. your hands on sylus' shoulders as his head went to your neck. "come on..you can do better than that, slut. honestly." offended, you went harsher, letting your ass slap against his thighs, making a loud noise of slapping skin. even your mind was begging you to stop but you didn't, you picked option two didn't you? "i'm doing better than you ever could." he chuckled before he hissed, nearly letting out a moan. whimpers were brought to his ears as he realsied that you were slowly riding yourself to death. without you noticing, he placed a pillow next to him, just in case you fell.

you continued, feeling the desperate need to let yourself go on his girthy cock. "like that? huh?" the sounds of the bed hitting the wall was seriously loud, stylus's hands going to your waist as he groaned, "that's my line..be original." although sylus was keeping up the tough act, he's never been ridden so hard. if he wasn't moving so much you could see the shiver of his body, your touch hypnotic as both of you came close to your release. but when he felt you slow down, he took manners into his own hands, flipping you around so he was on top, folding your legs up before pounding into your pussy; the moan escaping you were shameless.

he's never had you in such a position before and damn it nearly made you stay thinking about how on earth someone could have deadly dick? you went to beg him to stop, his hands grasping your tits in his hands as he sucked the skin before letting go with a pop! "oh! ah! sy- i'm cumming..!" you wailed as you came on his dick, his face so serious as he continued to fuck to his benefit. you were slowly becoming sensitive by the second, his dick hitting that wonderful spot as he fucking you into your orgasm, his following after before you felt his dick shiver but not soften. even after he's had an intense feeling, he was too into it to stop. "sylus..?"

"i always keep a deal, you rode me, i'll rail you." as much as you loved the idea, you were just joking around and now you fear for your legs after. he manoeuvred your hands so they were together, his hand hole ding your wrists as he stared down at you with a terrifying grin. he looked into your eyes to confirm you wanted this and you nodded, but still cautious for your poor pussy. "sylus, you know how hard it is to even handle you in general?! you're gonna break me-" "thats just fine." he put a hand over your mouth before pulling out, not giving you a chance to breath before he slammed back harshly.

damn, riding their dicks held serious results.

100 followers special! ❤️

thank you guys so muchhh, i love you to the end of space and back! i'm so happy to have a little community of my own, i wish for the best future.💋💋💋

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash

date made: 28-31/07/25

i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.

- 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 -

- 𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻, 𝔃𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮, 𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓵, 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼 -

𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻

𝔃𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓵

𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼

this is literally me rn

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 10/8/24

i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐈 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈 - ♡♡♡

♡♡♡ - 𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻

ꜱᴜᴍ: xavier like seeing you break >_<

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mating press, a little crying, overstim, rough sex, he likes holding ur hand

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 880

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: just getting back into my smut writing

xavier's hands interlocked with yours, his hips slamming into yours with full force as he ruts into your ruthlessly. his mouth focused in a small smile as he watched you wriggle and squirm under his horribly good thrusts.

your voice was like a melody to his ears, "xavier!— xavi- ah! ahhaah!! please!" your pussy squelching around his girthy cock, the sounds making up the music in the room. no one knew why he was being so mean with you, so aggressive to your poor cunt but there was no backing out now— he was already filling you with thick loads of cum. and i mean loads.

he pushed deeper, the tip of his dick just pressing agaisnt your cervix with precision even though he was at the verge of passing out in your hole. his hands— rough but so soothing— pushed your legs up to his shoulders, softly putting you in mental mating press as he whispered wonders in your ear, "shhh, my pretty girl, it's alright."

in a state of overwhelming pleasure, you hands unclamped from the soiled and crumpled sheets to push at his meaty arms, trying to pry him off your shaking legs. "no no- don't fight it baby, don't fight it." his tone was a warning as you sobbed into your hands after, feeling him so close, the warmth of his body making you even hotter than you already were. the feeling so delightful that you lost all control, your moans so loud that the people around the apartment complex definitely knew what was going on in that room, and it sounded even more merciless to his neighbours beside him. "oh my gosh...oh my gosh!! xavier, please oh my— please!!! i can't, i can't—"

"you can," he interrupted without a second to waste, his eyes glaring down at you yet you saw the softness in his gaze. yet you were taken aback when the man inside of you thrusted deeper, his tip roughly and rapidly moving over that sweet spot in your pussy, making you let out a gasp that even he was shocked at. "ohh!! shit...!" you exclaimed feeling him so deep it cut off your breathing.

his eyes instantly went down to where your bodies were connecting, seeing the white ring of your conjoined juices around the girth of his dick, his fingers goijg down to wipe some up and lick his finger clean. his tongue swirling around his digits as you watched, imagining how that tongue would work on your already overstimulated pussy. how he would gently but teasingly suck on your entrance and proudly dive into your cunt with bravery. his hands holding an iron grip of the base of your thighs, that were scattered in bite marks.

you clenched at the thought, which didn't go unnoticed by xavier. finally breaking down, you hands grabbed a pillow from beside you, holding in tightly o teh and stabilise the pleasure you were being given. teeth marks slowly surrounded the big pillow as you succumbed to his harsh thrusts. but it was when your face was stuffed into the pillow is when xavier disagreed.

"my love, no. don't hide from me." his one hand moved from one of your eyes to take both of yours, holding it above your head as you yelped out in shock. "xavier!! xavier— ahh!! i need something to hold! i can't do it, i need to...i need to hold that— mhmmm!!" your leg bounced shook with every pointed thrust xavier gave you. your eyes open like saucepans when you felt a harsh coil in your stomach, the feeling taking over your mind. he chuckled from above you, making sure you held eye contact as you were coming to your release. "come with me baby, come with me."

by the time he was speaking, you were out of it. dizziness in your vision as you nodded and gulped down all of your self control, looking down at your body, seeing how messy you were. the coil snapped without you even preparing yourself, your cum pouring onto his cock as he moaned at the sensitive feelings. your own moans came out as you begged to move, some fort of difference in position to hell with your oversensitivity.

but he didn't listen, no he didn't. xavier made sure that he focused on his own climax, thrusting sloppier once his ears turned red, his hands softening as he slowly but carefully pulled out and cummed all over your tits and your stomach. his liquid coating your body in a thin coat as you began to breathe— which you were grateful for. (763)

"you see? i told you you can do it." he spoke softly in your ear, pressing your bodies together before gently letting your numb legs down. his other hand wiping your tears from your eyes as he let out a slight chuckle. much to your despise, "stop laughing at me...." your voice was timid, yet your words were so demanding.

he laughed more before controlling himself at your warning glare, "alright, my sweet, just rest." and when he means rest, he means being pressed up agaisnt him so much that he gets a little excited once again. "so...my love..." you sighed dramatically, feeling his growing dick on your rear. "how much stamina do you have?!"

do not steal @aly4khq's work even though they are trash!

date made: 28/9/24

i do not give permission to repost, plagiarise or copy onto other platforms!

“Zayneeee oh my god!” You cried out as his thick cock repeatedly slammed into your g spot.

The pleasure was almost incomprehensible as he fucked into you from the back, his hips colliding with the flesh of your plump ass, your glasses practically jumping up and down from the force.

What had started as an innocent trip to Zayne’s office to deliver him a dessert you picked out that you thought he’d particularly like quickly turned into something much filthier.

It was record breakingly hot outside, and you had dressed accordingly.

A powder blue, backless, spaghetti strapped mini dress. A tight one at that, that emphasized your curves.

Upon seeing you in such a garment, in his favorite color no less, Zayne had a rare moment of spontaneity.

You should’ve known something was up when he stretched your greeting kiss out longer than your usual peck.

You seem to always end up in these situations; at the mercy of the pleasure he gave.

Upon fucking your thighs and making you cum once from the delicious friction on your clit, he wasted no time bending you over the desk.

The desk creaked under the movement of both of you.

“Please you need to be… quiet…” Zayne was struggling to be quiet himself.

You were so warm and tight inside, he was losing his fucking mind.

Especially since he waited years to have you again.

Zayne stopped thrusting for a moment, making you whine at the loss of such a mind numbing feeling.

“Why’d you stop?” You peered back at him, looking over your glasses that had been knocked lower on your nose, a sight he simply adored.

He simply couldn’t help but tease you.

Zayne chuckled lightly before grabbing both your wrists and pinning them to your sides.

“Wha-” You were cut off by Zayne grinding his dick into your walls.

It felt like he was in your guts.

You practically screamed before muffling yourself by biting your bottom lip.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes, Zayne, please!” You barely managed to get out before he sped up.

“Fuck back on me. Show me how you want it, (Y/N).”

You tightened around his dick at his words. He was so filthy sometimes.

Who knew Dr. Zayne got down like this?

You whined before doing exactly as he said. You could probably fuck better than him anyways.

He kept your arms pinned at your sides, which made the position all the more tantalizing.

“Hurry,” He breathed out with a groan. “I have an, mmph, 4 o’clock soon.”

Though he smothered his own sounds and barely showed it outwardly, Zayne was feeling it as much as you.

The sight of your disheveled hair and flustered face nearly made him cum right then and there.

He was simply that attracted to you.

He was significantly louder now, enjoying the feeling of you throwing it back on him plus the visual stimulation.

“Yes, just like that,” He threw his head back, letting go of your wrists and instead opting to grab your hips. “That’s so good.”

“Fuck…” You moaned as you sped up. His praise was pushing your further to your orgasm as you angled your thrusts to hit your g spot every time.

“Zayne… gonna cum… I can’t take it anymore…” You once again barely managed to get your words out through the gasps and moans.

This pushed Zayne over the edge that he was barely holding on to.

He completely pulled out before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you upwards, making you gasp.

“I’m sorry.” He gave gave you a short kiss before letting go of your neck.

He didn’t even give you enough time to wonder what for before covering your mouth with his palm and slamming back in to you.

The force of this motion knocking your glasses off your face and onto his desk.

Your screams and moans were muffled as he pounded into you fast, hard, and deep.

He had literally never fucked you like this before, it was like he hated you.

The sheer pleasure of how good he was fucking you made tears run down your face, ruining your mascara.

Your sobs were also muffled into his palm.

Zayne was right in your ear; huffing and moaning louder than he ever has before.

“Inside,” he gasps. “You want it inside?”

You nodded frantically, shouting muffled “yes’s” into his palm.

His thrusts got sloppier as you tightened around him, both your orgasms impending.

His breathing got heavier before he reached down and pinched your clit as he came deep inside you, making you squirt all of his cock.

“Fuckkkk (Y/N).”

You had never heard him gasp and pant like this.

And you’d never felt this level of pleasure before.

You came hard as he slowly fucked into you, riding out your orgasms.

You both relaxed your tensed muscles as your orgasms ended, and Zayne took his palm off your mouth to give you a deep searing kiss.

He pulled away, wiping away some of your mascara riddled tears.

“Thank you for the dessert.”

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Fuck you… mmph!”

Sylus chuckled lowly at you attempting to muffle your voice.

It always started with a little bit of an argument.

It’s not that you two didn’t get along; it’s just that you didn’t always get along. Arguably because of him.

For whatever fucking reason, Sylus loved to tease you and get under your skin.

Whether this be by stealing the glasses right off your face and holding them high above your head, even going as far as to suspend them in air with his evol, or generally just poking and prodding at you verbally until you snapped; he got an odd kick out of pissing you off.

And then turning around and acting as if you were the unreasonable one.

You often pondered what his redeemable traits were, if he had any. Nonetheless you made a deal, and it would hurt your pride not to fulfill it.

Annoying as he was, he was stupidly handsome, and his deep voice and tantalizing stature sent chills down your spine.

Sometimes you liked it when he bullied you. Just a little bit… not a lot.

Especially when it progressed on to a charged type of banter.

“Watch your mouth, kitten.” He’d pretend to warn you ever so sternly. As if his cock wasn’t aching in his pants at your defiance.

He found you so hot when you got like this.

“Or what, Sylus? What are you gonna do?” And you’d egg him on every single time.

Then he’d get up, walk over to you, grab your neck and slam you into the wall behind you.

He’d grip the sides of your neck harshly and force you to look up at him, which made your glasses shift.

“You’re aching for it that bad, huh? Maybe you’re useless at seducing me, because this seems to be the only way you know how to get me to fuck you.”

You looked up at a him with hooded eyes, your hands gripping arm he was using to choke you.

Sylus wasn’t oblivious to how you were trying to hide how pleased you were with yourself.

He knew you loved it as much as him. Riling each other up like this. Matching each others energy.

“Fucking hell,” He threw his head back, feeling his cock throb at just the look you were giving him. “Open.”

You did exactly as he said, not breaking eye contact as you opened your mouth for him.

Sylus wasted no time in moving the hand around your neck and running his thumb over your lips and tongue before spitting in your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You did exactly as he said, not missing the glint in his eye and the palpable bulge in his pants as he watched you.

“Say you liked it.”

“I liked it, Sylus. Please give me more.”

“You’re such a dirty little bitch.” He put his hand over his face, trying to hide his smile.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at how much he was clearly enjoying this and how you were enjoying playing into him, you take the hand he put over his face and move it to the back of your head as you get on your knees.

You couldn’t mistake how wet you were, annoying and hurtful to your pride as it was.

This dynamic was so invigorating, and you were so attracted to him.

Once again not breaking eye contact, you licked the expanse of his hard on through his black slacks, sending a shiver down his spine.

“That’s a good girl. Keep going, just like that.” He breathed out.

Unbuttoning his pants, you made quick work of taking his cock out.

That was another thing about him… his size was annoyingly impressive.

His dick was thick and lengthy, and he knew exactly how to use it. That’s why you even bothered entertaining his fuckery in the first place.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?”

You hummed, more eager to have his dick inside of you than anything.

“I think I want to fuck you first,” He quickly reached down and grabbed your arm, pulling you up. “Turn around.”

It was times like this you were sure Sylus had a sixth sense for you and your desires.

You once again did exactly as you were told, making quick work of your mini skirt and the panties you were wearing underneath.

Pulling your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side, you reached back between your legs for his cock, making him chuckle.

“So eager,” He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, making you moan lightly. “You want it that bad?”

You huffed. Your attitude returning due to him fucking around again.

“Sylus for fucks sake,” You whipped your head around to look at him, staring at him pointedly. “Get the fuck on with it already!”

“You were so nice earlier,” He began to push the tip inside you before pulling out, teasing you as he loves to do. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”

“Sylus-”

“Alright alright I’ll give you what you want.”

He finally pushed his entire cock into you, making your jaw drop.

Fuck it was so big. It was like he was in your guts.

“Oh… my god…” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle.

Grabbing you by the waist, Sylus held you up.

“Easy there sweetie,” You practically could hear the smirk in his voice. “We barely started.”

“Shut up…!”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it, look how tough you were trying to act like his dick wasn’t making your knees weak.

He leaned forward, lips grazing your ear as he spoke, “Allow me to help you out.”

Taking both your hands in his, he bent you forward, pulling your arms up behind you and holding your wrists together with one hand.

You moaned at how deep he was in you in this position.

“Like that?” He ground his dick into you lightly, making you gasp. “Is that good?”

“Yesss Sylus,” You moaned out. “So good!”

That’s all it took for him to start fucking you in earnest.

Moans spilled from your lips with every thrust uncontrollably, the pleasure of him pounding into you was undeniable.

“So fucking tight, my god.” Sylus threw his head back and groaned.

He was just as loud in bed as you, he truly had no shame in his game in any aspect.

“You’re such a fucking slut you know that?” He grunted through clenched teeth.

“Yes… right there!” You practically screamed as he slammed right into your g-spot.

“Here?” He started fucking you even harder, aiming for that spot in specific.

Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as your eyes rolled back.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer his question.

The pleasure make your clench down on him desperately, making him groan loudly.

“Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum.”

“Inside.” You babbled mindlessly, trying desperately to get your words out.

“What was that?” He smirked, using your arms as leverage to pull you back into his thrusts. “Couldn’t understand you.”

“Need you… to cum inside… Sylus!”

“Hm?”

You felt your orgasm impending as he continued to fuck into that one spot that made your vision go white.

You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer.

“Please please cum inside me!”

Sylus knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Picking up the pace of his brutal thrusts, he felt that familiar knot in his abdomen tightening.

“Cumming… I’m cumming!”

He barely had time to respond before you were cumming all over his cock, squeezing him even tighter than before.

“Fuck…”

He felt your spend dripping down his balls every time he thrusted back into you.

Feeling his own orgasm quickly approaching, he thrust deep inside of you.

Moaning right in your ear, he came deep inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and throb with every spurt of thick cum.

It was so utterly satisfying to the both of you.

Sylus observed the milky white ring around his cock and he weakly thrust in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.

A content silence fell over the both of you.

That is, of course, until Sylus decided to ruin it.

“You’re so much cuter when you’re quiet, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Is ‘perfect’ even enough to describe this?

The way you portrayed just right their relationship. The confusion. Longing. Tension and unspoken words. The love.

I’m literally going insane over this man and the way you just get him perfectly like I did, had me melting all along because that is exactly how that bastard is😭

And it just made me love him more.

i need help

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : 5+1 trope, pwp (porn with plot), porn with feelings (a. LOT.), poetic descriptions, fluff, with slight angst undertones, references to cards “moment’s respite” “close feelings” “fragment of time” "lightseeking obsession",  unrequited but actually requited love, yearning, miscommunication, love confessions, reader is drunk in scene 5, kissing, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, clit play, slight nipple play, multiple orgasms, first time sex (with each other), vaginal sex (raw), needy sex, creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names “angel” “my starlight”. lmk if i missed any tags !! ((slightly unedited))

wc : 13.4k (😭)

an : PHEW OK. i'm going back to my roots guys ... this is LONG, embarRASINGLY LONG but. if you want to skip to the Fun Part, that's in scene 6 (which is like. more than half of the entire thing really) !! also, play the song as you read i promise you won’t regret it <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny [sign up here!] / +tyty @unluckywisher for beta reading a part of this the other day 🥺

AO3 LINK 🔗

Five times he couldn't say “I love you”... And one time he actually did.

—ᴏɴᴇ.

“Do you think Lemonette will finally stop bothering us for a while?”

You stifled a yawn as you walked up to your apartment, Xavier’s own footsteps following not too far behind you. The yellow wanderer had been roaming the city causing trouble, and you thought you’d gotten rather sick of seeing its face around—especially now that it had kept you both awake, the threads of sleep having slipped from you both the instant your watch went off. In that moment, a glance at the time told you that it was well past midnight. The sky surrounding the building was darker than dark, light from neither the moon nor stars enough to bring you out of it, the only comfort being the dim gleam of the hallway lights.

“We gave it a good beating, at least…” came his reply, and you shouldn’t have been so surprised to hear the grogginess present in his voice—as if he hadn’t been a large part of the reason Lemonette was rather… annihilated, for lack of a better word.

You smiled.

“Yeah, and no less thanks to you for it,” you chuckled, stretching as the door to your apartment finally came into view. You realized that you’d never once thought you wanted to be in bed any more than you did in that moment.

A momentary silence fell, and you stood by the doorway, turning around to face him.

Xavier remained still.

He seemed contemplating, scanning over your figure, fingers reaching out tentatively… only to fall back to his sides.

“Xavier?”

The call of your voice prompted a shake of his head, and a hint of embarrassment flashed briefly in his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

It wasn’t nothing.

“You’re not… injured, are you?”

A smile spread on your lips, then.

So he was worried.

“It’s just a scratch,” you shrugged. “You know how it is. Just the usual stuff, I don’t even need first aid for it. It’ll be fine.”

Still, he didn’t move.

“So… Will you be able to sleep okay?”

It was almost comical how he said it, what with how obviously sleepy his own gaze had turned. Eyelids heavy, slow blinks in your direction, as if everything he was doing in that moment was with the intention of conserving as much energy as he could… He was tired. Just as tired as you were. Just as jolted out of his sleep as you had been.

You nodded your head, and reached over to give his shoulder a pat.

“I’ll be okay. Really. Maybe it’s since I’m tired from all of that, but I feel like I could get some pretty good rest! I don’t want to keep bothering you with my sleeping problems, anyway…”

Your eyes met, then.

Xavier’s searched yours, as if trying to ascertain that you weren’t just brushing it off. And this time, he seemed to let impulsivity win—or, whatever it was that made him reach out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was soft. Gentle. Much like it always was; much like he always was, especially when it came to you. It lingered, the feeling of his skin against your ear, settling to rest by your cheek—and perhaps that was what made it feel more intimate, and soothing, than it otherwise would have been.

You didn’t know it could be so comforting just to look at someone like this.

To share a pause in thought, to enjoy the presence of each other… to have a little bit of your worries melt away the way that they did…

The moment offered more solace than you thought it ever could.

But Xavier tended to have that effect on you.

He always made you feel safe.

“Xavier?” You mumbled, your hand reaching up to rest on his wrist.

“Mh?”

“Um… Thanks. It’s not so bad, even if Lemonette had to bother us tonight. Since… I have you, after all.”

And at that, you watched him smile.

Somehow, the dim lighting around his figure made him appear all the more ethereal than he usually did.

“I think the same,” he nodded.

His hand dropped back to his side, then. His mouth opened and closed for a moment, as if trying to weigh what to say next, before he took a prompt step backwards.

“...Goodnight.”

It was soft, the way he said it. You could have missed it if you weren’t paying attention, and something told you that it wasn’t quite… what he had meant to say.

Still, you smiled.

“Goodnight, Xavier.”

In the end, it wasn’t so bad, like this.

—ᴛᴡᴏ.

How many days was it, now, that you’d found yourself in such a situation?

You stood in his kitchen, hands on your hips, looking at the tray of cookies in front of you. Much to your dismay, they were mostly charred, or otherwise deformed, or otherwise… much too expanded to be considered presentable. Your gaze raised to meet a very expectant one, blue eyes nearly twinkling, and you thought—how could he be so confident?

“Xavier,” you started, and you crossed your arms for emphasis.

It was in an instant that you saw him deflate. If he had ears like a rabbit—a thought you’d had for quite some time now—you were certain they would be folding over his face in near-mortification.

Or guilt, perhaps.

You weren’t quite sure which one it was.

You were sure, however, that it was difficult to scold him properly with the kind of expression he was giving you.

You reached up to scratch your cheek; “It’s not terrible… I mean, you’re getting better…”

“...I followed your instructions, though…” You watched him lean over the counter to take a look at what had become of the cookies, and then he, too, found his nose wrinkling in distaste. “They don’t turn out very well, do they?”

“On the plus side… They don’t taste bad!”

To make a point, you held up a cookie and took a cheerful bite.

“...Well, you know. Aside from the burnt ones, I guess…”

A pout formed on his face with ease, and with the way he’d been leaning over, you were able to notice the slight flutter of his eyelashes with every blink.

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

“How are you so good at baking?” he sighed. “I know you’ve been trying to help… But is there something you’re not telling me?” His voice sounded a little dejected, more emotion seeping into it than usual, and you could see his desire to learn reflected cleanly in his gaze. Xavier wasn’t often this expressive. You knew he was genuine with all of this, and especially with all of the impromptu baking lessons that he’d dragged you into.

Not that you ever complained, of course.

To you, any moment you got to spend with him was one of comfort; an opportunity you could never bring yourself to pass up on. 

Even if these moments often ended up in…

You took another look at the cookies.

Well, burnt things.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You knew you weren’t supposed to, and you watched his expression change from one of gloom to that of bewilderment. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as if trying to understand your sudden outburst—and with Xavier, you found, it was this expression that you so unabashedly adored. The confusion made him seem akin to a lost puppy, innocence in his eyes unveiled, a sincere glimpse into the person he didn’t often let you see.

This, with the way the sunlight streamed in through the window, the placement of his kitchen aptly weaved into the path of the sun, made the moment all the more heartwarming.

This was why you could never decline his invitations.

If only to see a little bit more of him the way that you were…

Your laughter settled into a grin, and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s just… Xavier, you’re so… So…” You made vague gestures with your hands, trying to find a suitable word. “So cute.”

The confusion in his face no less settled at that, but he crossed his arms. “...Well, so are you.”

You paused.

Your eyes widened.

In retrospect, it wasn’t as if this was anything new. Quips like this would often come out of nowhere; you’d learned to get a little bit used to it. That was the Xavier you were familiar with.

But there was something about the way he said it this time that made your heart skip another beat.

It had been doing that quite often in his presence, as of late.

The softness, perhaps; the directness, perhaps—or maybe it was the way the depth in his eyes made it seem a little more real. He met your gaze head-on, never wavering, never taking back what he’d said.

But in another split second, that moment was gone—and just as you had meant to tease him, now it didn’t seem like the words held much weight for him. There was an easy smile on his face, his eyes softened ever so slightly, but then he reached out for his own cookie to taste. And it was almost as if he hadn’t said anything at all. It was so typical of him to act so nonchalant about it.

Perhaps, part of you wished that he had said something more.

You cleared your throat.

“A- anyway,” you dusted some crumbs off of your clothes, “you can just—you know, try again later? You could follow along with a demonstration, or something… Maybe it was a little much just to recount the recipe to you. But, I really still think you’re improving! This’s a lot better than the last time we baked already, so with more practice I think you—”

Your words felt swallowed down in your throat, his eyes watching you with such intensity that you nearly had to take a step back.

“You’re amazing.”

Huh?

“You’re good at a lot of things. I don’t think I know what I’d be doing with all of this if you weren’t here.”

Again he spoke, with the follow of silent words that, to you, seemed like they never really made it out of his mouth. Like there was something more, something else he would have loved to say out loud, but he… didn’t.

As if he were holding back.

He took the tray from you, setting it aside, his eyes following the sunlight. You noticed him squinting slightly when he found its source, acting, as always, as if he didn’t just say something that could get the butterflies in your stomach acting up. As if the push and pull that had consumed most of the days you’d been spending together as of late didn’t… exist.

You almost didn’t know what to make of it, until he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Can we do this again, sometime?”

“I—huh?”

“I like baking with you.”

His head turned back to face you, and there was a small smile playing on his lips—one that mirrored the one you’d had just moments ago.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

It wasn’t a question anymore, but a statement.

You swallowed down the fluster in your throat, feeling as if the implications of his words were a lot more than just… This.

But you offered a smile. “O…okay. Yeah. I… I would like that, too.”

It was so difficult to say no to him.

…Not that you’d ever want to say no, anyway.

—ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

He would do that quite often, you found.

Your eyebrows knitted together as you glanced up from your textbook, only to find him, chin in his hand, not at all paying attention to the book laid out in front of him. Blue eyes bore into your own, and though that selfsame flurry of butterflies whirled around in your chest, you only crossed your arms at him in response.

The library was quiet.

You were the only ones here at this hour, quite early into the morning, save for a few people scattered in their seats here and there. The only sounds were a few hushed whispers every now and then, the rustling of paper, perhaps the sound of a book closing, a chair scraping. Menial sounds, if only to add to the environment.

Sure, it was a perfect conduit for thoughts to wander, for sleeping to be induced, but—but he promised. He promised to help you study for this exam, or at the very least, that he would study with you so you wouldn't feel alone in it.

Yet here he was, not taking it as seriously as you'd hoped him to.

“What are you even looking at?” you nearly whined, your voice lower so as not to disturb the people around you that were reading. “A library is made for reading, you know…”

You didn't know how to feel at the expression he gave you, rather relaxed and unconcerned, head moving in a little nod. He gestured towards the open book before him; “I have a book,” he spoke matter-of-factly.

You gave him a pout.

“Yes, but you're not reading it…”

“I'm… doing more important things.”

“...Like what?”

“Studying.”

You couldn't tell if he was being serious, but his words definitely made it seem like he was playing around. In fact, had his tone not been so direct, you could have thought he was mocking you.

“Are you making fun of me?” you huffed. “If you didn't want to come here with me, you could've just said so, you know.” You made a face, and then promptly rolled your eyes. “You're not even looking at your book. What are you studying, then?”

And then he smiled. 

And it was less irritating to you than it was worrisome, for there was something about that smile that made you feel caught. 

Though in what, you weren't quite sure yet.

“Xavie—”

“You.”

You blinked, your words cut off, your brows furrowed in confusion. “...What?”

“You, I'm studying you.”

He reached over and brushed against your hair, knuckles just barely grazing over the side of your head, nearly akin to a slight flutter of the wind. In an instant, you felt a faint trace of dust fall down onto the table. Your eyes followed it, the moment passing in silence.

You bewilderedly blew it away.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak just yet, only quite having the mental fortitude to look back up at him, the confusion on your face ever more evident.

“There was something in your hair,” he smiled.

Your face flushed, then, and you weren't unaware of the particular gleam in his eyes. He might have been stating the truth, but he was obviously still… teasing.

“Xavier—!”

A finger to your lips, this time, and there was no holding back the smile that formed on his own.

“Shhh,” he spoke quietly, “it's a library. You have to be quiet.”

You couldn't help the way your cheeks bloomed into shades of pink, and you lowered your head back to your book, defeated.

He didn't know the things he made you feel.

There was little sense left in you to find some kind of retort.

—ꜰᴏᴜʀ.

“You have kind of a funny interest in all of these legends,” you mused, following him with more careful footsteps.

Your eyes focused on the cone of ice cream in your hands, delighted at the appearance that you were promised. Though you had to plod through such a touristy place such as this for it, you were glad to have the bunny-shaped sundae cone finally right there in front of you. Holding it up a little, you tilted your head to compare the side-by-side image of the vanilla ears with Xavier, and smiled to yourself.

It kind of looked like him.

Little white ears matched the shade of his hair, and you figured it was maybe just missing those blue eyes you loved so much.

The person in question, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas on his agenda.

He barely noticed your little self-satisfying antics, brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the navigation app you’d installed on his phone. It was endearing how adamant he’d been on sticking with an old-fashioned map; this was a side to him you found that you adored dearly. Moving to circle around him, your eyes shone at his expression of concentration, his eyes narrowed, lips jutted out slightly into somewhat of a pout.

God, you really…

The thought remained uncompleted, and you cleared your throat.

“Xavier,” you reached up to lower his phone, shuffling closer to him to take a peek. “I really don’t think it’s that far… If you’re having trouble with it, just give it to me and—”

The phone screen shut as his finger moved over the lock button, and he promptly put it back into his pocket. A little smile, and a shake of his head, and then his arms were steering you forward as if nudging you along to continue walking.

“Nope,” he said, with a shake of his head to emphasize it. “I’ve studied it enough. We just have to walk a little bit in that direction. We’ll see the lovers’ bridge, then.”

Your eyebrows raised in amusement.

You let him steer you, felt the way his hand moved from over your shoulder to back by his sides, your hands brushing every so often. The only way you could distract yourself from it was to stare intensely at the ice cream in your other hand, one that had endured a few little kitten licks from you, but had its shape more obviously affected by the warmer temperature around you. You wondered, in the back of your mind, if it would last before you got to the bridge at all.

“Why do you want to go there, anyway?” You risked a glance back up at him as you spoke.

This little trip, in and of itself, had been planned on very much a whim—or, you supposed, not very planned, at all. But you could recount the few times you had been out with Xavier, and they had often been on your invite. This time, it was he who had insisted on dragging you out along with him, all to find the so-called Lovers’ Bridge that was infamous for its ‘good fortune’.

The white pedestrian bridge, stretching over the river in a sleek, sophisticated figure, had been used as a filming location for a number of romance movies. Of course, these were films that you had seen… But ones you knew Xavier had yet to, especially with the way he usually avoided all those sappy titles in the first place.

It was odd enough that he'd want to visit the bridge for such a reason… Yet there was more.

And you had found out about those reasons not more than a day before you’d left.

Because more than filming locations, was the superstition behind the bridge—a bridge that had completed its construction on Valentine’s Day, thus earning its name. And it had been swirling with promises and legends ever since, ones that reached the ears of even those outside the area. According to what had spread online, crossing the bridge with the one that you loved would ensure a long and happy life with them as a couple. And something churned in the pit of your stomach as you mulled over the thought, tongue darting out for another few licks on the treat that you held.

The taste of vanilla was cooling on your mouth, a welcoming rush of sugar that served as a means for you to ground yourself a little.

Because you and Xavier were not a couple.

In fact, you were far from it.

You were friends; yes, neighbors; yes, colleagues; yes.

Lovers?

The thought brought a blush to your cheeks, because you wished that you were. And you were aware that sometimes, the both of you tended to act like you were. You spent nearly every moment that you could together, the lingering warmth of his touches and his presence near you whenever he could be near you were burned into your memory.  The rumours at the Association didn’t fall on deaf ears, either. You knew what people were saying about the both of you, and you oftentimes wished them true—you did. The affections you held for him were undeniable.

But that was quite frankly not the reality you lived in.

Xavier had never been clear about it with his signals, nor direct about his feelings, nor—nor anything else. Nothing official had ever occurred between either of you, not in this oddly-structured game of tag, so shrouded in this push and pull, where the rules remained ambiguous, and where the outcomes presented just as vague.

And it was a terrifying thing to assume.

Yet, without properly explaining why… he had been adamant all day to walk straight into it—the bridge, its surrounding legend, all of it. 

“When good luck is involved, it’s better to believe they exist. You have nothing to lose.”

Those were words he was fond of saying, and the only words he would ever use to give you a reason.

The same could be said for this moment.

You found yourself being thoughtful as you fell into step with him, eyes scanning your surroundings, watching the couples that seemed to float in and out of your peripheral vision. There weren’t as many of them as you thought there would be—the bridge was now in your line of sight, its pearly-white structure jumping out against the backdrop of the setting sun. At the very front of its steps was a little bed of flowers; blue, you noted, tinted ever so slightly with the swirl of cotton candy from the clouds above.

The river below it rippled with a darkening pinkish hue.

The sun would be below the horizon in just a few moments.

And at the same time, in perhaps a minute or two, the bridge would be lit up in an equally captivating display of beautiful colors.

Even without the legend, you wouldn’t have minded getting to see something so pretty.

“...Your ice cream is melting.”

You blinked at his voice, your eyes drawing away from the scenery and back to him.

It could have been the shadows of the sunset that made him shine a little brighter in your eyes, now, that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to formulate any sort of response.

His eyes softened, the gentle breeze brushing through his hair.

Sometimes, you thought, there was something about him so inexplicably out of reach. Yet here he was, giving you attention, reaching for your hands, allowing for the heat from his skin to linger upon your own for even just a moment…

And then in these moments, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were.

“Aren’t you going to finish that?” he mumbled. There was a slight shift of his gaze towards the cone in your hand, before he looked at you again. “It might make your hand all sticky if we go and walk on the bridge right now…”

He was right, of course.

Your own gaze drifted down to the hand with your ice cream, now less of a rabbit, and more of the standard scoop of ice cream for all that it had melted. Parts of it had even begun to drip down onto your hand, but you had barely noticed the feeling.

“Oh, I… I mean, we can wait for the lights to turn on first, so…”

Blinking again as if to snap yourself out of your reverie, you lifted your hand—

Xavier beat you to it.

He had his thumb and index finger wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling it towards him.

A smile.

You didn’t miss that smile, how could you? Slight, and perhaps, barely visible otherwise, but your breath caught in your throat—Something had you gravitating towards him, nearly entranced in the heat of his stare, sucking in a sharp intake of breath as his tongue darted out to lick at the stains of vanilla that ran over your palm.

You were blushing, probably.

You couldn’t even tell, at that point.

Soft, tiny little kitten clicks at your skin, almost as if to clean up the mess—you couldn’t really have bothered to focus on the expression you were making, feeling your own heart beat so loudly out of your chest that you were certain he could hear it.

“Xavier…” you mumbled.

His eyes twinkled, and he moved his mouth to the treat in your hand, taking a bite of his own.

“Can’t let it go to waste, right?” he licked at his lips.

The clusters of people, then, long-forgotten in the moment you had dared to share with each other, let out a resounding exclamation at amazement, as a click resounded in the air and the bridge before the both of you erupted into dazzling colors. Yet, your skin still tingled at the feeling of his touch, and you felt dazed as you turned your eyes back to him.

“I guess we, um… We should finish this before we go…?”

He chuckled, and then he nodded—“I… Think vanilla isn’t a bad flavor.”

—ꜰɪᴠᴇ.

The spin in your head made your vision hazy. You couldn’t remember, anymore, what time it was—only that your system had become intoxicated long past coherence, and the grass you sat on had a strangely soothing texture to it. And in front of you, right then, was that red, empty solo cup you’d brought with you outside.

You vaguely made out some loud music, and a voice in the background—Tara’s, probably. But you couldn’t be bothered to decipher what she was saying. You didn’t register that she was actually right beside you, trying to keep you engaged in conversation, a hand over your shoulder.

How long it had been like this?

You weren’t quite sure, either.

What you could remember was that Tara had planned a little girls’ party of her own, and it had gotten bigger than anticipated… And you supposed you’d ended up drinking more than you’d expected to. Eventually, you found yourself out in her front yard. It was the night breeze that felt comforting, despite the cold. There were stars out that night—a few of them shone brilliantly above you, and though you weren’t looking at them anymore, their presence made you smile.

It was only when a shadow passed over your figure that you looked up again, head lolled a little to the side, rapid blinks trying to steady on the person in front of you.

“There you are!” Tara stood up from beside you, dusting off some of the dirt from her pants. With a grunt, she managed to pull you up, though your weight naturally rested on her shoulders. Unbeknownst to you, she let out a pleading sigh. “Sorry, Xav… I didn’t notice how much she drank until she went wandering out here…”

Oh…

Xav.

The nickname registered in your head, and your vision, a little less blurry at the snap the information had given you, managed to form Xavier’s figure in front of you. His hair was a little unruly, the white hoodie so familiar on him a little more disheveled than you knew it to be—his eyes, too, held a certain level of concern that you were able to make out.

He had probably been sleeping.

There was a twinge of guilt that lapsed over your face, but it didn’t last—his presence brought on a giddiness you couldn’t have thought to control, and a lopsided grin easily came to prove it.

You slid off of Tara to fall straight into his arms; the scent of his laundry detergent had you sighing. It was almost by instinct that your arms wrapped around his waist.

“Xavier…”

A nuzzle against his chest had Tara clearing her throat then, and she made a pointed gesture.

“Well! She couldn’t stop talking about you, so I figured you were the person I should call! Sorry, really! I didn’t realize it would get this out of hand, but I do need to get to the other guests, too, so I hope I can leave her in your hands! Thanks, Xavier!”

You didn’t notice her leave, not until you felt a warm hand on your back, a familiar, soothing voice speaking softly into your ear.

“Hey… Let’s get you home. Let me just… Call a cab, and—”

“...But you’ll just leaveeee…”

He paused.

“I’m… Taking you home, so you can get some rest.”

“T’my place?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll stay w’me?”

The silence that followed only had you clinging to him tighter.

“Seeee…! You’re not answering! You’re gonna leave me ‘gain… N’I dunno when I’ll see you ‘gain, n’theenn…!”

Your voice trailed off on its own, resorting to nuzzling against him, feeling as if parting from him in this moment would never give you another to hold him so close like this.

But it didn’t last.

The fact was: Xavier was gentle with you; still.

Patient. 

Enough to pry you away from him, enough to get you to comply to get in the cab with him, enough to usher you up to your apartment and unlock the door… until the familiar warmth of your couch had you happily sprawling out, hugging the pillows close to you.

You barely had any recollection of what had happened; it was enough for you to know that he had been with you.

That he was still with you.

“Xavie…”

Your hands reached out for his, registering late that you’d been reaching for the glass of water he was holding rather than the hands themselves.

And you frowned.

“Huh? C’mere… Wan’ hold you…”

You made out the shake of his head, gentle gestures to sit you up properly on the couch.

“You have to drink water first,” came his reply.

His voice was so soft.

You could let it get to your head, the mere sound of it bringing a silly grin onto your face, a giggle bubbling past your throat. “Oooh… Can you say it again?”

It was clearly nonsensical, and you noted yet another shake of his head, the patience in his eyes ever evident despite all of your antics. It could only make you giggle even more, your hands falling to your lap, expression clearly very much out of it.

Until—

“Angel… You’re too drunk. You really need to drink this.”

Angel.

The giggles, the laughter, all stopped abruptly. You felt your expression shift into that of wonder, your eyes wide and blinking curiously. Somehow, the nickname sent all kinds of flutters into your stomach—ones you couldn’t bring yourself to understand, especially in the state that you were in.

You leaned forward:

“You’re right… You’re like an angel…”

Your voice was light and airy, nearly akin to a gasp, and perhaps you might have giggled it off again had Xavier not reacted with a sigh. Because before you could do anything else, he moved his hand to rest gently over the curve of your spine, bringing the glass up to your lips.

It registered, then.

Your response was immediate, as if nearly conditioned, allowing him to tilt the glass upwards. You found yourself eagerly gulping at the water as it flowed down your throat; you hadn’t realized how much you needed the water. You were suddenly all the more grateful he had given it to you, gasping for air once the glass had been drained empty, and then blinking to look at him through hazy eyes.

“Better?” he murmured.

The hand on your back gave you soft, gentle rubs as he set the glass down, and then he reached up to brush the strands of hair from out of your face.

Immediately, you stilled. All traces of your giggles seemingly washed away with the water you’d drunk. You certainly didn’t feel any less intoxicated than earlier, but his touch through your shirt, and the soft caress on your cheek, felt all the more heightened that this moment felt nearly surreal to you. It was then that you could notice those favorite blue eyes of yours, staring into your own, searching your own, soft, and full of worry, and—

And something else. 

Something you weren’t coherent enough to put a label to.

But something that caused tears to well up in your eyes.

“Xavie,” you pouted, though you kept relatively still nonetheless, if only to lean more into his touch. “Why’re you lookin’ a’me like that?”

You caught the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, but he didn’t move away.

“Like what, angel?”

That nickname again.

You groaned as you fell back against the couch, grabbing a pillow to bring it up to your face.

Something about that nickname was driving you insane.

You felt your cheeks flush a cherry red, not just from the alcohol, and more likely from whatever else he was making you feel. You couldn’t quite tell what expression you were making, hidden behind the pillow, fighting some sort of giddy urge to let out a squeal. You didn’t even know how you had the space to overanalyze it. But the questions swirled in your head before you could stop it—has he said it to anyone else before? Was it just… you? Was it supposed to be… Common, and you weren’t aware of it?

The possibilities that plagued you only allowed another groan to sneak past your lips;

“Wh- why’re you callin’ me that, too! A-an’ being all soft with me, s’like… like you mean something…”

You felt the couch shift beside you, and although you still refused to look at him, you felt yourself naturally gravitating into his warmth.

“Do you… want me to mean something?”

This time, you sniffled.

Saved from his gaze, you quickly moved to bury your face back into his hoodie, allowing yourself to focus on his scent, on the way he held you like this, on the way—for even just a moment—he felt… yours.

“Dunnoooo,” you whined. “I’unno what you’re thinking… I never knowww what you’re thinking! Always so nice to me n’then you leave me all alone the next, then I’unno where to find you anymore… Say all these things n’keep me all close t’you, then you act like nothin’ happened…”

You rambled into his chest, your voice slurred and muffled into the fabric, gripping at his hoodie as if he could disappear in any next second. They were similar words to what you’d said by Tara’s front yard, similar feelings of refusing to let him go. But speaking them out with more clarity—whatever clarity you could muster the way you were speaking now—felt like twisting a knife into your heart.

Because all your thoughts had been clouded with him.

They were all-consuming, deliberately buried down into the pit of your stomach only to resurface with an intensity you could barely fathom yourself. How he’d been treating you, the words that he’d say… For the past days, for the past weeks, just—just him. Him, and his eyes, and his hair, and his voice. His touch. His presence. His comfort.

The Xavier you knew you’d come to love.

A hiccup bubbled in your throat, and you let out a quiet whimper in attempts to quell it.

Love.

Was that the emotion you couldn’t pinpoint?

Was that what you were feeling?

The visceral grip that he had on everything that you were; was that what you could call… Love?

“This isn’t the kind of time we should be talking about this…” You felt him murmur into your hair, a soft kiss placed on the crown of your head. Yet he wasn’t pulling away. He kept his hand on your back, soft, gentle caresses, trying to soothe you from the outpour of emotions you had barely the consciousness to control. “You’re not going to remember this tomorrow. How about we talk about it then?”

“B-but… But you always make excuses!” 

“Angel…”

You looked up this time, sniffling in irregulated breaths, eyes watery with tears that were threatening to spill.

“You can’t call me that!” you insisted. Your hands balled into a fist. “D’you know what that means?! W-what if it’s making my heart all restless? N’you can act all calm like it’s nothing!”

“...I’m sorry…”

“An’—an’ you’re… You’re so warm… You’re like a fluffy cloud… N’what if you leave? What if you’re only here ‘cause m’like this, and then the rain passes n’you just leave me all alone again, an’... A-an’ then the sky won’t have any stars, either, n’I’ll be all alone—”

You could register the mix of confusion and concern on his face, your words barely making sense even to you, but your grip on his hoodie remained tight. You felt it, the way your tears rolled down your cheeks, your own expression a mix of desperation and a confusion that likely mirrored his own.

“Just… Just don’t… Don’t leave, Xavier…” you felt your lower lip tremble. “I’on wanna be left all alone… M’scared… I’on wan’ you t’leave…”

Your voice became smaller and smaller with each word, and you were left there, sniffling for a moment, looking up at him with a certain kind of hopelessness.

You were aware, at least, that you likely looked pathetic in his gaze like this.

“...M’sorry, Xav, I-I’unno what…”

Your words swallowed back into your throat when he reached out, brushing his thumb over your cheeks, over the corners of your eyes, wiping away your tears. His touch, as always, felt like a gentle caress. Patient, despite the incoherence of your thoughts and your actions; kind, despite the way you were keeping him here with you very likely against his will.

But he squeezed your hand.

You knew what that meant.

You gulped, looking up at him again, allowing his touch to lull you into a calm as it often did.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I won’t leave. You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Through the haze of your eyes, half blurred from the alcohol and half from the tears, you caught the softening of his gaze. He moved closer, a little bit—slow, steady movements. And then he pulled your arm back over him, his own moving to rest in your hair… Until you were encased in the warmth of his embrace.

Almost just as earlier, except this time more… real.

He didn’t feel like an afterimage, not now.

Not in this moment.

His head dipped down, nuzzling against your neck, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I’ll… I’ll do better. I’ll stay with you. I’ll be right here.”

His breath tickled your skin when he spoke. And, to you, these were words that you felt were more genuine than you had heard from him in a while. It was enough to have you comfortably settling into his hold, eyes falling closed, breaths beginning to even you out.

Your head still throbbed.

It was a combination of everything; all of these feelings, and the alcohol that had planted itself into your system far past any level of sensibility.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you wouldn’t recall any of this when you woke up the next day.

You tended not to remember things when you got like this, after all.

But still, your arms wrapped around him, returning the embrace.

“...I love you, Xavier,” you whispered.

Maybe he wouldn’t remember anything, either.

—ꜱɪx ... xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ.

The soft clinking of spoon against the mug was all he could hear.

It was late in the afternoon, leaves rustling gentle against the kitchen window. The atmosphere was quiet, and peaceful—enough for him to let out a little yawn, eyes blinking slowly in the golden rays of the light.

The tiredness was catching up to him.

Fluctuations had been far more unsteady than usual these past few days, and it only meant another morning full of missions for the both of you. Now, here, where in his apartment the both of you decided to relax in, was the first moment of pause the two of you had been granted in a while.

He recalled, too, the complaints you’d muttered on the way back. Though you’d done so on the premise he wouldn’t hear you, he did, anyway. It brought a little smile to his face thinking of the tone of voice you had taken.

For though headstrong and dedicated to your job as you were, you, like all Hunters in the Association, had the right to feel weary. You deserved moments of rest, such as now. Xavier couldn’t blame you for your complaints. He wouldn’t dare.

Like a distant whisper in his mind came words that were familiar to him; words that he wished he had another moment to comfort;

“I’m tired, Xavier… What if I can’t brandish my sword one day? What then?”

The memory made him close his eyes, jaw tightened in a grind of his teeth.

What he’d said, then, were words he had never gotten the chance to fulfil—words he could never take back. He could remember them, still. It was of the last few times that their conversations had been cordial.

And it was the moment he realized that words were not enough; they never would be. Not if he couldn’t live by them. Not with all the promises he had easily broken.

He wondered, then, how many things of the past he’d come to regret.

With a shake of his head, Xavier carried the mug carefully out the kitchen, sure not to let its contents spill. This was your favorite flavor of tea, and it always had been. If he couldn’t make up for lost hours and missed opportunities then, he would make up for it now.

He would try to.

“Hey, Xavier?” Your voice called out, getting steadily clearer to him as his footsteps padded the wooden flooring of his living room. It was his apartment, one he’d know the layout of like the back of his hand—yet he found, instead, that his path had moreso been mapped out by the sound of your voice. “I realize I never got to ask what these are. Is this… Are these what I’m thinking they are…?”

He blinked.

You weren’t where he’d left you, just earlier.

You’d stood up from the couch, the soft rabbit plushie now out of your hands and since left to the side, looking a little dazed. His own gaze flitted from the toy up to your figure, crouched beside a little wooden stand by the corner of the room. In a manner he’d always found familiar, your head was tilted to the side, pure evidence of your own curiosity. And on top of the stand lay a case, beige as most things in his home, raised slightly open to reveal the touches of a little turntable.

Immediately, his eyes softened in understanding.

“It’s a record player. And those are vinyls.”

He walked up behind you to tap on your shoulder, and the way your eyes lit up at the sight of the mug in his hands nearly made his heart skip a beat.

“Really?!” you exclaimed, taking the tea into your own hands. Your shoulders lifted, whether by the warmth of the drink or your own excitement, Xavier wasn’t quite sure. But he smiled, nonetheless.

“Really.”

“Aren’t those from… Incredibly long ago? I mean, I’ve always known you were old-fashioned by nature, but I didn’t expect you to have things like these, too… I don’t think I’ve ever seen them outside of those little antique shops we pass by sometimes.”

You were rambling, almost.

He knew you got like this when you were excited.

Your expression became more animated than usual as you spoke, leaning in to get a closer look, and he almost laughed.

For all the times you’d call him adorable, he almost wanted to say it back to you, this time.

He almost did.

But when you looked at him next, there was a certain plea to your gaze, the corners of your mouth then turned down into a little pout. “Please can we play something?” The hopefulness laced into your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I’ve never heard you use it before! What’s the use of having it sit around if we don’t get to hear what it plays?”

It felt ironic, looking at the image presented before him. The stand the player rested on had two shelves lodged within it, the bottom hosting a set of vinyls, the one above it hosting none other than a stereo. And suffice to say, the stereo had been used a lot more. The case of the player was well-kept, cleaned and shined every now and then… But it was obvious it had barely been used. It might as well have been new. Xavier himself couldn’t recall the last time he’d used it.

But that you were asking him to, only meant that he would give in. It was difficult to say no to you.

He could hardly dream of it.

“Okay,” he said finally, nodding his head in the direction of the vinyls.

The both of you crouched down to look at the titles, Xavier watching intently as your fingers traced over the record sleeves. They were soft, slow, contemplating motions. You took each one out of its place to look at the cover, eyes skimming the title, before putting it back down—rinse, and repeat.

This time, he did laugh. There was a confused sort of wonder on your face; he was sure that these titles were anything but familiar to you.

“Are you having trouble choosing?” he offered, leaning in closer to look at the records themselves.

Here, sitting so close to you, he could feel the warmth from the tea that you had only taken a few sips of, the scent of your perfume equally as notable in the space between you. Part of him, perhaps, wanted to prolong the moment.

He liked being close to you.

“Mmh… I’m not sure what to expect from either of these,” you admitted, your face scrunched up in concentration. Still your hands trailed over the jackets, and without thinking, he reached over to rest his own hand over your wrist.

When you looked at him, he was pleasantly surprised to find the faint traces of a blush over your cheeks.

You truly were adorable.

But he shook his head.

“Well… They’re a lot different from what we’d be used to now,” he leaned in closer to you to give you a little nudge. “I could choose for you, but I want you to experience it for yourself, too. So, maybe… Choose something you feel drawn to?”

He stood up, then, willing his heart to calm enough for you not to notice how your proximity was affecting him. Instead, he busied himself with the case, lifting up the lid completely to reveal the knobs and switches not otherwise visible just earlier. He tried to remember the last time he’d cleaned it, but it seemed to be in a condition good enough to be able to work, anyway. There was a part of him that let out a sigh of relief at the confirmation; the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you with it.

“Katharine McPhee…” you mumbled, then.

“It’s a pretty name. The cover looked interesting, too, and the song title is… Well…” Your voice trailed off with a shrug, and he looked back at you, blinking at the vinyl you held in your hands.

Slowly, his lips turned back into a little smile.

Oh. That song.

You handed it over to him, expression expectant, as you took another sip of your tea.

“I actually… Don’t really remember how to use it.”

The soft admission fell from his lips, an honest warning that only earned a scoff from you in reply. He didn’t look at you this time, as he gently slid the record out of its jacket and placed it on the turntable. He didn’t need to, after all. He’d memorized enough of your expressions—the mirth in your eyes, the tugging of a teasing smirk against your lips that would eventually spill into a grin… He was sure you had your head tilted in quiet observance, his own hands moving to push the needle flush against the record.

After he reached over to flip the power switch on, he straightened, arms crossed, a hope in his eyes that could have mirrored your own. In a similar manner, you peeked out from behind him.

And then the first notes of a song flouted out from the box.

Mellow tunes wafted around the living room, a different kind of fullness to it compared to the music that both of you were used to hearing from the speakers. The gentle strumming of the guitar, the soft hums that started off the song—he breathed out a sigh of relief, while you, on the other hand, let out an exclamation of amazement.

In his head, he would have likened your behavior to that of a puppy who’d gotten a new toy. The mere thought of it had him glancing away for a moment, the back of his hand covering his mouth to hide his smile.

Yet, he—couldn’t quite look away from you.

It was hard to look away.

It always has been, when you had since filled his heart with a song of its own, and he’d always been so vividly aware of your presence ever since.

As if you were the only thing that truly mattered to him.

And perhaps, you were.

He could think back to these past months, every little glance the two of you would share, every brush of your hands, every caress he dared to initiate, every hold on you he’d be greedy enough to take for his own.

One of the earlier nights he’d let his self-indulgence get the better of him, he almost said those words—always on the tip of his tongue, always surging through his heart with an intensity he had to fight back so as not to scare you. And I love you became goodnight; I love you became stay; I love you became come back; I love you became come with me.

It became a glance. It became a touch, it became the tug of your hand. It became gentle ruffles of your hair, it became smiles, it became laughs, it became—you.

Love became you.

And now, the crisp noise emanating from the player seemed to wrap you in its embrace, smoothly, as you began to sway. Your feet shifted side to side as you let your head bob in time with every step, every little shuffle. You’d tucked your hair behind your ear, and your eyes closed. And he couldn’t help but notice—admire—the warm cascade of sunlight over your hair, shrouding you with a glow more ethereal than he’d ever seen… even with you. You were brighter than the sun. Brighter than the stars. Brighter than anything else, brighter than whatever light his Evol could possibly conjure, and just enough to match the warmth that being here with you, unfiltered and peaceful… filled him with.

“You know… I really like this song!” Your voice echoed through the music then, more noticeable to him than any other sound in the room. You turned your head, eyes meeting his own—”You’re right, it doesn’t sound at all like the kind of music we’d listen to these days, but the melody is really catchy, and her voice is really smooth, and—”

“Dance with me?”

Xavier spoke before he could stop himself.

In the next second he felt a sudden surge of heat at his own statement, nearly retracting his words to look away in embarrassment…

But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out his hand.

He was sure the tips of his ears were near-glowing red.

He tried again.

“May I… Have this dance?”

And for all that his heart rate had always been naturally slow, he could hear the steady thrum of it in his ears. Louder than usual, quicker than usual, more anticipating than usual. If there was anything that could get him nervous, it was you.

Always you.

But you took his hand.

Your palm in his was small, but just as warm as you always were to him. Just as beautiful, as you always were to him. And perhaps, the world began to fade away, then. It often did, when he was with you. Only, now, in the confines of his home, symphonies echoing in the background, he knew that he was free to hold you as close as he did.

Neither of you spoke for a while as he pulled you up against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, your head against his chest. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in a long, long while, and he realized, then, that the pulse of your heart seemed to beat readily in time to his.

“I didn’t peg you to be a collector type, huh,” you mumbled.

You weren’t looking at him, eyes focused on the shuffle of your feet. He took the opportunity to rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “It was… A gift from a friend, but I haven’t gotten to use it much. It’s… been sitting around.”

He felt you laugh softly against him.

“Yeah? But you’ve kept it around, anyway. Who knows just how old this thing is…”

“...But, it works.”

“Mmh… yeah, it does. Thankfully. And… You know how to use it.”

“I hoped that I would.”

This time, you raised your head, and his breath hitched in his throat. Seeing your eyes, so up close like this, brought on a wave of emotion that he found he had to choke back.

It didn’t stop him from speaking.

“I… thought it might be something you’d like. I’m glad that you do.”

The smile that spread across your face in response to that nearly made his heart jump out of his throat. And the tug of your body closer to him was all he could do to keep those words from spilling out of his mouth.

I love you.

He could say it with a look.

And, sure, you had said it.

He remembered that night.

He’d barely gotten a wink of sleep, holding you in his arms as he had, but you weren’t—You weren’t sober. 

And neither of you had talked about that night.

It was as if your relationship had meant to continue for as long as it could without addressing it, and it was driving him insane, and—

And if he could, he would have this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, a slow dance to the music, as far as he could lie to himself that you were already his without either of you having to say it.

But he knew that was not the case. It couldn't be. And he knew that you knew it, too. He saw it in the way your expression flickered into one of apprehension, and your lips parted to speak.

“Xavier… What are we?”

Your voice came as a soft whisper, with a question he found that he had no immediate answer to. He searched your eyes, brows furrowing, trying to ascertain what it is you were expecting him to say. 

He knew what he wanted the two of you to be.

He didn’t know what you were. He didn’t know what… you wanted.

So that was what he said.

“What do you… want us to be?”

It was as if all he knew how to do in that moment was deflect the question back at you.

And you frowned.

“Xavier, that’s not… I don’t…”

The turmoil that made itself obvious in your voice had his heart dropping almost immediately.

Because that was it.

You weren’t sure.

Those words you’d uttered to him just that night were nothing more than a drunken ramble, and he was right—this wasn’t the same as all those years back. Here you were, in his arms, yet every time he’d think you wanted him just as much as he did you, you’d pull back.

How cruel that you would think the same of him, when you could barely be receptive to what advances he could make.

Then, perhaps, he realized there was a limit to how much he could take.

“I know what I want,” he mumbled, then.

His hands moved up to rest against your cheek, a gesture that had become familiar to you, despite the emotional charge behind it, despite the way he could only wish to hold more of you in exactly this way.

And there was so much of you that he held in his heart.

He didn’t even know how to place it anymore. So many years of feelings he’d harbored for you, always, all this time, yet he never knew how to explain it. Neither to you, nor to himself. Because he’d never felt this way with anyone else. To be so full of contentment in someone’s presence; to be so hopelessly enamored by every little thing—even after all this time, this was new to him. New, and profound, and—

And terrifying.

To love you so wholly, so insurmountably, so… so much.

It almost felt foolish how terrifying it was.

His heart felt as though it had lodged itself in his throat, and he was sure that his voice would falter as a result, but this—this was it.

How could he move forward any longer without letting you know?

And it was the way your eyes remained steely on his that allowed him to speak again, determined—

“I want you.”

The music had since been long forgotten. Familiar, yet faded within distant memory, as the world, once more, became filled with you. It had always been like that. In his mind, there were many things that had since receded into cloudiness; a grey abyss of things that once were. Now, the only thoughts that ever seemed to hold clarity to him were thoughts of you.

How much he wanted you.

How much he needed you.

How much he… loved you.

Perhaps, he couldn’t say those words just yet.

Instead, he swallowed them with a kiss.

A chance; a risk—an obvious display of the bounds of longing that he’d reached, that had filled to the precipice, that had tortured him beyond an anguish of waiting.

It was an anguish that only you could fill.

The touch of your lips against his, soft and supple, the way you craned your neck for more of it, the way your arms tugged him closer, closer, pressing him into you if he should dare pull away… 

“Again,” you whispered.

And he had his answer, then.

You wanted this just as much as he wanted you.

So he kissed you again.

And again.

And again.

“More,” you pleaded, and each and every time you parted with one another, he could only think, perhaps, that there was no place else he would rather be than here with you. The quiet, crackling tune faded into your heedy breaths against each others’ lips. Right then, the music came to its own end, bringing with it a different kind of symphony that now danced within the depths of your eyes.

He felt your hands slide down from his neck back to tug at his sweatshirt, and his forehead moved to rest against yours.

“Satisfied?” he smiled, his voice lighter than it had been today.

“When it comes to you? Never, really.” Your noses bumped together, the slightest nuzzle filled with an insurmountable kind of affection. ”Because I want you, too.”

Those were simple words—but a direct revelation of your feelings, a direct reciprocation of his own, and—naturally, they spoke volumes. Enough for his heart to fill with warmth. Enough for his shoulders to relax, with a sort of relief he wouldn’t be able to explain to you if you asked. And he held you in his embrace, arms still wrapped comfortably around your figure, knowing that he could let go, but… he didn’t quite want to. Not at all. Not when you felt so right with him here; not when the implication of your words settled deeply into his chest.

So instead, he let out a slow, heavy breath, and perhaps he couldn’t help it anymore. His lips gradually inched back impossibly closer to yours, his gaze straying down from your eyes, dizzying, almost, at the way you were barely touching—

“How much?” he mumbled, because an agony of waiting couldn’t possibly be resolved in a single moment.

You let out a soft laugh.

“For forever,” you rolled your eyes, but you smiled. “If having you forever could ever be enough.”

His breath hitched.

Forever.

Forever sounded like bliss with you. Forever sounded far more wondrous than whatever fantasies lived in the pages of those books on his shelves; far more than anything he had ever, ever wished for. And he had wished for this for a long, long time. For you had always been in his heart. He knew, now, that he was in yours.

And forever was as long of a time he was willing to spend with you.

“I’d like that.”

Then his hands gripped your waist tightly, desperately, as his lips came crashing down once more—and this time, the desperation that had coiled itself in the depths of his heart found freedom in the way that he kissed you. Like clawing; almost, as if afraid he could never get another moment like this, as if afraid you could disappear from right in front of him, right then and there.

As if he wouldn't let you. 

He couldn't. 

And the longer the kiss continued, the hungrier it became.

There was the scent of your perfume, the scent of your shampoo, the taste of your lipgloss… All-engulfing, more, and more, until all he could feel was you. All he could taste was you. You, and you—so warm, and so right, and—his.

All his.

All while he felt your hand tangle into the roots of his hair, and you panted hazily into his open mouth, desperately wanting to breathe, and yet—neither of you wanted this moment to ever end.

And the both of you had an inkling of exactly where this was intending to lead.

Feet shuffled against the floor, a few steps backwards, but neither of you got very far before Xavier was lifting you up into the air. His arms supported the weight of your body through your back and your knees, positioning you into a princess carry—he noted the squeal that you let out, your eyes finding his in search of confirmation. It was, perhaps, instinct the way you clung to his waist next.

But he had never been more grateful for the straightforward layout of his apartment, keen to lay you down on his bed with a promise of much, much, much more. The weight on the mattress shifted, and his figure crawled over your body, the faintest brush of his knuckles against your skin. From this angle, you caged between his arms, legs slotted between yours, his weight holding him up by his forearms—you were beautiful.

More beautiful than you always had been.

The redness that surrounded your lips, lipstick askew, swollen from your kisses… Your hair was splayed out against the pillows, disheveled than things had started with. And there was a certain longing in your eyes that, he was sure, quite vividly reflected in his own.

He could feel the way his hair had likely gotten just as unruly, the sting in his scalp still tingling from where you had tugged and scraped just moments before. Yet he made no attempts to fix it, the annoyance of his hair nearly in his eyes of no importance to him in this moment. Not when you were here. Not when the tension in the air left him feeling dizzy, the prospect of having you closer making his head spin.

“My starlight,” he whispered, then.

He watched, fondly, at the blush that covered your face—and he came to the realization that the midday glow had melted into skies of velvet. 

And this was different, now, from any past sunsets he had ever watched with you.

Now, it streamed in through the window in skyburst reds and yellows. vibrant hues painted over your face, your body… A skyward hearth reflecting the solace he could only ever find in you.

And you were his sky.

You were his home.

You were his… everything.

It was these words that were swallowed back as his lips descended past your cheek, past your jaw, down your neck. He would let actions speak louder than words, this time; the words uttered instead into your skin. His fingers worked deftly to undo the buttons of your blouse, hips rolling into you, a friction that had his breath tremble against your neck. And then a suckle over the soft flesh on your shoulder made you gasp—he’d do it again, and again, lips trailing your skin in search of every mark of you he could finally, finally make his.

His eyes closed.

He could savor the sensation—hot breaths against you, the drag of his hands across the smoothness of your skin, those slow, loving circles he rubbed into your waist before he could tug your clothing off of your body.

Not a word was spoken; not yet.

Only hushed gasps and shaky breaths, every roll of his hips, the friction of his erection against the outline of your sex nearly driving both of you into a quiet dance of insanity.

You broke the quiet first.

“Xavier.”

A shaky whisper as his fingers trailed downwards, pressing flush against your lips, feeling the desperate cling of the fabric against you.

Another stroke of his finger, lewdly accompanied with the wet, sticky sound of your arousal—

“Xavier.”

He looked at you, then. Dragged his gaze from over your figure to the haze in your own.

And he whispered; “Beautiful.”

His strokes against your cunt had your bottom lip quivering, hands slipping from over his back to the mattress below. Little taps against your clit, finger dipping the fabric nearly inside, your wetness seeping through with ease… He could feel every pulse of your pussy, your need for stimulation never more clear to him than in that moment.

And—

“Xavier… Xavier.”

You sounded so sweet.

Every utterance of his name had hip drawing in a breath; he had never before in his life heard it called out with so much… love. 

He wanted more of it.

Lips moved to mouth at your breast, as your panties were pushed aside. Slow, open-mouthed kisses, dangerously close to your nipples but not quite—

His finger, then, slid directly over your folds, and you caved.

“Xavier—!”

A louder, uninhibited moan of his name, your back arching into his touch.

And there, displayed in his eyes, was a look of wonder. A look of love.

Your legs spread in response, inviting, daring. You were baring yourself to him so willingly, that you didn’t need to say anything else. The plea in your eyes was enough.

The plea in your voice was enough.

“Xavier…” you spoke again, barely a whisper, your hands moving back to thread through his hair.

And how could he ever deny you? 

You shuddered immediately as his lips moved to wrap around your nipple, the heat of your skin against him pulling the corner of his lips up into a little smile. Every flick of his tongue had your body twitching beneath him, and he felt every little jerk with a certain sense of pride.

It was so easy, then, for his finger to push inside. 

You gasped, and he pushed deeper—the gentle probing of your hole had you pliant and starved for his touch, his name falling out from your lips in a chant.

“Xavier… Xav—Xavier— Xavier—!”

He groaned against your skin. Your sounds were like music to his ears, a jolt straight down to the tent in his boxers that was almost painful.

Yet still, his eyes never strayed from yours.

He let his teeth graze over your bud as his finger curled inside you, pressing against your gummy walls, just slow, easy thrusts to guide you into the rhythm. And he could see it in your eyes. He searched them, equally as lost in the swirl of haze that had you drowned in the pleasure he gave you—and it was beautiful. Almost heart-wrenchingly beautiful. How he had always wished, yearned, to belong to the inner world behind your irises, and now he—he could.

He only pulled away from your breasts to rest his head by your ear, a low chuckle resounding. He felt the effect of it almost instantly as you clenched over his finger, but he didn’t stop there—a second digit found its way in.

“Shh, I know, angel, I know.”

Quiet, soothing whispers against your ear, his other hand moving to brush the hair out of your face.

This time, the light from the window was bathed in twilight—

He smiled.

That even the moon and the stars would smile upon you, would cover you in their light… The sky itself would speak of love. Of you.

He watched, as your hips, illuminated by the evening glow, began to make more desperate motions. You drew his fingers in deeper, guiding them to rub against the spot that had you crying out another chant of his name. His thumb brushed up against your clit, then, and your hand reached out to grab his arm.

Another smile.

“Is it there, angel?” he murmured. His hair fell over your face as he moved to face you, lips ghosting over yours. And he caught every gasp, every moan, ever drone of his name and every shudder of pleasure he could elicit by repeating the same actions.

Again.

And again. 

And again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, wanting him close, his ministrations unrelenting. Long fingers dipped in and out of the heat between your legs, sounds of slick and arousal emanating from your cunt in time with the murmurs you keened into the crook of his neck.

“Close?” he whispered.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as he kissed at the corners of your lips, gently coaxing you closer to your high. Each pump of his fingers had your body arching higher, higher off the mattress, the soft cooing of his voice a catalyst to the climax you were so close to.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, Xavier… Please!”

Your words nearly made his throat close up, eyes closing momentarily as his cock twitched in response to you.

“I know,” he mumbled, “I know, starlight. You can do it, just a little more. Focus on me. Does it feel good?”

He leaned up to kiss the little beads of tears that formed out of the corner of your eyes, whispering against the flutter of your eyelids as the only coherent response you could give was a feeble nod.

“Then cum for me, angel.”

You gasped, and he felt it. Your walls constricted, your body arched, and his words, his voice playing into the heat in your core, so much so that it was much, much easier for you to let go. The coil snapped, and your hips bucked upwards, his name mixing with curses upon your lips that he found… delightful to his ears enough to smile.

“That’s it. There we go. You’re so good, angel, look at you…” He let out a slow breath as he withdrew his fingers from you, watching as your body twitched in the aftermath of your orgasm. Slowly, he slid down your body, hands gripping your thighs to spread you apart, and he placed a soft, barely-there kiss against your clit.

Your body jerked at the contact, and he immediately rubbed soothing circles into your skin, cheek resting against your thigh as he looked up at you with a smile.

“I know,” he whispered, again, “I know. You’re sensitive. I won’t do too much.”

But you shook your head.

His eyes blinked slowly, carefully, as he felt your fingers in his hair, coaxing him back up to you.

“Angel?”

“You’re an angel.”

Your breathing had calmed enough for you to speak this time, the familiar words falling from your lips in a way that made his heart skip a beat.

“You…” he breathed out in disbelief as your foreheads touched, taking in the slightest hint of mirth that became visible in your eyes.

And after all this time—through all the doubts that swirled in his head, through all the desperation to get the timing perfect, in manner with the perfectionism that had been instilled so deeply into his heart—

It was you who spoke the words first.

“I love you.”

And the lump in his throat had prevented him from responding immediately, but you knew.

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, and like all the years he had felt such a familiar gesture, he allowed himself to surrender. The weight of his head fell into your palm as he nuzzled closely into you, his own eyelids fluttering, as if savouring every bit of affection that you held in that caress.

“My starlight…”

A feeble rasp of the little nickname he’d made for you was all he could muster in the moment, and you, in return, could only chuckle.

Perhaps, it made the moment feel more real.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as he pressed back up against you, as your hands worked to pull down his boxers, as the throbbing of his cock pushed against folds.

“Starlight, I…”

His words melted into a groan as it was you who moved your hips against him, the slide of your sexes coating his member in your slick. And the quiet of the night could not have rang in his head any louder than the wetness between the both of you, evidence of the desire that rang true in your bodies as his hips seemed to move with a mind of their own. His eyes closed as he dragged his length along your folds, breath stuttering as the head of his cock would catch on your entrance with each withdrawal of his hips.

Your breaths were shaky as you hugged him closer, receptive of his slow grinds into you and against you, and he realized, then, that this was real.

Your words were real. There was no alcohol laced into your words this time. Instead, you nodded your head, and he noticed it—a different kind of intoxication, the reflection of his figure stirring in your eyes with unspoken need.

“Xavier…” You whispered again, and it was a plea.

Such a multitude of ways that you could say his name.

“Xavier… please, take me.”

And with one slow thrust, he was there.

Closer to you than ever; as close as the two of you could be.

A moan fell from his lips as the tight passage constricted around him, the thickness of him stretching your walls to accommodate the feeling of being so full. 

And it was enough.

“I love you…”

His head fell against your chest as he felt himself tremble, the sensation overwhelming. You were so snug and warm around him, so… perfect. There was no stopping the words from falling out of his lips. He would say it again.

“I love you.”

He felt your breath stutter against the crown of his head, and he buried himself deeper into you, nuzzling into your chest, his body alight with a heat that he could barely begin to fathom.

He loved you so much, it ached.

And you moaned as your head threw back, hands clawing into his back, as his hips began to move. Slowly, at first, the languid pacing of his hips allowing you to feel the drag of his length against your walls, allowing him to soak in the way your cunt would suck him right back into you.

“Xavier, Xavier, Xavier…”

Your sounds were soft from your lips, a melody that had him rhythmically moving in the tune of, only picking up the pace ever so slightly—because he could hardly get enough of you. You drank each other in shamelessly, savouring the taste of your skin, every inch of your bodies colliding with every movement, and it was—enthralling. Breathtaking. Every snap of his hips as he breathed heavily against you had you shuddering. You would meet his grinds with needy little humps of your own, and he—

He could lose himself in this.

And all he could focus on was the endless litany of his name upon your lips, the quiet sound of skin against skin, the near-filthy squelch of your cunt with each dance the two of you would play in.

Until he could barely breathe.

Until his lips were back on yours, and you would hold each other close, hold each other tight, never letting go because this—all of it—was exactly what the both of you needed.

Xavier felt it, then. The squeeze of your walls, the flutters, the pulses—he lifted his head.

His vision was hazy.

All he could think of was you; all he could feel was you; all he could see was you. The flush of your cheeks, the way your eyes looked back at him with a darkened, half-lidded gaze, the way your mouth held open in desperate pants for air.

And he moved harder, harder, faster—

“Angel,” he choked out, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your body.

“D-don’t stop, Xavi, please, don’t—don’t—”

“M.. M’not stopping, angel… I know… I know, feels s’good, doesn’t it…”

He angled his hips, deliberately pushing his cock against the spots inside of you that he’d memorized, and—

“X- Xavier…!”

His teeth grit as you clenched around him, legs drawing over his hips and keeping him flush against you enough to trigger his own release.

“Take it… C’mon… take it, angel, take it, take—it—”

His head dipped to bury against your hair, tucking you under his chin, keeping you caged in his arms for as long as he could. His hips stuttered as he pumped inside of you, spilling his load with a wave of euphoria that had you both letting out a cry of pleasure. And he pulled out just the littlest bit before sliding in again, shallow thrusts making a mess of his cum, the throb of his cock pulsating against your walls…

Muffled groans turn into trembling breaths, heavy pants as the atmosphere gradually relaxed into contentment.

“I love you.”

He peeled off of your body only to gently stroke at your cheek, taking in the glow in your smile at his words.

So he said it again.

“I love you.”

And he leaned in to pepper kisses over the side of your face, like little specks of stardust, a gather of constellations that could only fill his universe full of you.

You laughed, softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“You make my heart smile,” you sighed, and he placed a kiss at your eyelids in response.

“And you make mine. Always.” An honest reply. His hands found yours, fingers intertwined, a soft, gentle massage into your palm. “...I love you. I’m sorry I took so long.”

And you smiled.

“You did take long,” you hummed. “But now that you’re here… It’s worth it. Just... Make it up to me and cuddle for a little. Okay?"

His eyes fell closed.

This time, he felt—this was a promise he could make for you. This time, knowing he had you, he thought… Perhaps, he could. 

“...Mhm. Rest now,” he whispered. “And I’ll be by your side. Always.”

“You said it again, my heart's in motion; every word feels like a shooting star. I'm at the edge of my emotions, watching the shadows burning in the dark, and I'm in love—and I'm terrified."

[Terrified ; Katharine McPhee]

⁺₊ / an: first of all scene 4 was inspired by the tamsui bridge in taiwan, second of all can you believe this is the first time i used 3rd person pov limited (non-reader)?? and it was such ??? a challenge??? and third of all DID YOU NOTICE… that i used the slow dance trope in direct contrast to sylus’ "once upon a december" drabble hehe i’m smart sometimes <3

ANYWAY my thoughts on this is that writing this made me realize why xavier/mc has always felt so special to me, and why the 21 days card made me so emotional :'> this took reallyyy long to finish because i reaally wanted to convey the gentleness in their relationship (through a reader insert, no less!) while also keeping all that fear and desperation and uncertainties of falling in love still very much real and present 🙏 writing the outline and scenes 5+6 made me cry a little,,, i hope reading this fic has allowed you to feel the depth of their love, too <3

also : mention for @sadfragilegirl for that one request you sent a while back! since you requested "passionate loving smut" with xavier i'd think this fits in with that hehe

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

please imma need one with THE NEW XAVIER 4CARD PLSPLSPSLDPSLDPSLPDLDPDLSLW

MDNI! 18+

we already know how possessive and jealous Xavier is, so imagine him when he finds out about Sylus.

“Who do you like more?” He breathes into your hair, his entire body weight on you “Me. Or. Sylus?” Every word punctuated by a hard thrust that feels like he’s reaching your lungs. You know you’re mumbling something but you’re pretty sure it is incomprehensible. “Answer me pretty girl. I’m not letting you go until i hear the answer i want.” and oh he’s so mean. Hitting that spot over and over that has you seeing stars.

“You! Xavier! Ahhh- just you- always you.” you manage to blurt out.

“Good girl.”

But the force of his thrusts remains harsh. Like he’s proving a point. No one knows you like he does. Sylus can’t please you like Xavier does. You’re his. Only his.

Xavier being a cruel bastard in bed is canon. And I stand by that.

i need xavier so bad i don’t even know what to with myself anymore plspls

thank you for such delicious meal, may you have a happy long life good health you deserve everything i love you i love you, please, never stop!!! 🙂‍↕️☝️

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)

an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Focus on me, angel."

Quiet words against your skin.

Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You had no choice but to focus on him.

Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.

Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.

You couldn't see.

Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.

And it had been this way for hours on end.

His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.

But he wasn't listening to you.

Instead, he sighed.

"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."

His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.

"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"

"Shhh."

The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.

And then you felt his head dip down.

In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—

"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."

But you were feeling too much.

Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—

It was so hard to resist him.

He knew that.

And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.

And you were melting at it.

Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.

And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.

In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...

You knew that he was watching you.

You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.

"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.

"Yes?" he murmured.

A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.

"You want me here again?"

He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.

You groaned.

"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"

"But I am touching you."

You knew that he was smiling.

"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"

He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.

But it never came.

"...I don't know."

You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.

"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."

"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"

He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.

"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."

You could nearly cry.

You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—

"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."

A pause.

"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."

Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.

Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.

He was watching you.

And he was fascinated.

"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."

Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—

"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."

You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.

Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.

"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.

"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."

A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—

Only to stop.

And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.

By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.

Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.

"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"

A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.

"Something, like... This?"

A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.

"So, so warm."

His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.

All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.

And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.

You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.

And it felt so good.

...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.

His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.

You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.

"Xavier!"

Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"

It was like a trigger.

Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."

The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.

You were so close.

You were so close.

It was slipping away.

"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"

This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.

"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."

A pause, and a whimper on your end.

"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."

Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.

But he wasn't done.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.

It was humiliating, almost.

All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.

"So wet n'messy..."

Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"

You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.

"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"

Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.

It was gone again.

You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.

"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.

He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.

"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"

His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.

This way, you couldn't speak properly.

There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.

Another hum. "I think... Not."

And he would keep doing it.

Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.

Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.

Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.

You were sobbing.

"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"

It hurt.

It stung.

And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.

"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.

He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.

The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.

Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.

His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.

"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."

You let out a slow breath.

"Please."

Your voice was shaky.

And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Watch," he said.

His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.

"Watch. And no take-backs."

You didn't have time to react, then.

Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.

He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.

His weight shifted.

You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—

And he started off slow.

Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.

"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."

His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.

"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.

"No."

A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.

"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"

You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.

"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."

Xavier usually wasn't like this.

You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.

The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.

For a moment, his eyes softened.

"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"

Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?"

Another nod.

And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.

"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"

His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.

He was right.

You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.

"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—

But he didn't.

Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.

In fact, he didn't stop at all.

He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.

He kept his thrusts up.

He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.

It was torture.

Yet it was so good.

"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"

You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.

And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.

"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."

Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.

"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"

Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.

You were withering.

His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.

You could barely register anything anymore.

He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.

"Xavier..."

Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.

And he groaned against your neck.

"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"

He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.

Yet you knew that this was far from over.

"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"

The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.

He was just as long gone as you were.

"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."

⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

FOR ALL MY FELLOWS VIRGIN - THIS IS A PIECE OF WORK 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness? (pt 2)

Sylus/right hand man!reader

Part 1, ao3

SUMMARY: You decided to indulge in Aries' little date, a "simple" dinner in an expensive place. However, one drink led to another and you found yourself thinking about Sylus way more than you should be.

WARNINGS:

smut, cunnilingus, making out, intoxication, aphrodisiac, slightly jealous Sylus, possibly ooc ??

GENRE: smut, a bit of fluff near the end

Is it obvious idk how to tag?

“Must I wear this?” A familiar man held a perfume bottle in his hand, glancing at its label. Behind it, translucent pink liquid swished around, as if eager to be released. He grimaced at the sight, clearly not liking the idea.

Another man, a decade or two older, just scoffed, fixing his nephew’s collar. “Yes, you do. I did not raise you to retaliate.”

His nephew snorted. “You didn’t raise me, per se—”

“Aries.” Ciel’s voice cut through his statement, making the man clear his throat. “Sorry, sir.”

“There you go.” And with that, Ciel backed off, arms crossed in expectation. Aries’ jaw clenched before spraying the perfume over his pulse points, as well as his hair. It smelled sickeningly sweet in his opinion, too sweet to the point he almost gagged in front of his uncle. But, he was told that it would wear down the moment he met a certain little (Name). 

He didn’t want to trick you like this, but he saw your hesitance when he touched your shoulder. As if you knew he was something he shouldn’t be.

—--

You couldn’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror.

You bought the beauty you were wearing yourself, and even if it wasn’t the signature black or red that Sylus loved dressing you in, you believed that a pretty champagne would do you good. It’s not as if it ever let you down before. Its plunging neckline was daring for a first date, but you were never one for subtlety. Not if you had the richest man in the world as your wallet.

A simple dinner, Aries told you. You snorted. Yeah, right. A simple dinner for the rich, maybe. 

You should be used to restaurants like what Aries had sent you the location of, but you never asked to join Sylus whenever he’d go, so you were never accustomed to them. 

You always seemed to forget you were constantly surrounded by the wealthy as long as you were in the N109 Zone.

You had told Tara and the others that you had to leave shift early for a simple little date, and the moment you did, their eyes lit up immediately, especially Tara. She always thought money was your one true love, and though she wasn’t necessarily wrong, she was happy that there was at least some space in your heart for a person. 

You scoffed at the idea of having an actual partner. You were just humoring Aries; he didn’t really mean anything to you. Ever since you left the auction, he began texting you almost nonstop, occasionally giving you a bouquet of roses before the actual dinner, which was scheduled a week after the auction. But it felt mundane to you. None of it compared to what Sylus had done for you during the first week of your stay.

You shook your head. Why were you thinking of your damn boss? Why were you comparing him to a potential romantic partner? With a huff, you grabbed your clutch and headed straight for your double door.

The moment you opened one of them, though, Sylus was right in front of you, leaning against the other door, sparing you a glance. “Where are you off to?”

You smiled plainly at it, crossing your arms as you faced him. “That won’t work on me. I’m leaving now!” You spun on your heels before walking down the hallways, your figure a deep contrast to the darkness of the walls around you. You heard Sylus scoff in amusement, and it ticked you off. “If I see Mephisto or any one of your goons following or spying on me, I will leave.”

“As if you could,” you heard him bite back, and you smiled. You hated how he was right. Though you knew he wouldn’t follow you after what you said. You hoped.

—--

“Reservation under Cartier.” Aries informed the waiter, who had bowed and ushered us to your seats. Your interest piqued at his last name, and the moment you two sat down, you brought it up. “‘Cartier’? Like the vintage jewelry brand?” You joked, nodding at the waiter in gratitude. 

He just goofishly laughed, looking down at the candlelit table with humility. “I get that a lot, yeah. But speaking of it, though, my dad used to talk about a certain jewelry store.”

At that, your face dropped in shock, eyes wide at his words. “...Your family owns Cartier?”

Aries shrugged, smiling awkwardly at the waiter as he poured the red wine. “I guess? I haven't heard about it in a while, though. He barely talks about it now.”

“I have some of your pieces!” You exclaimed, putting your hand out to show him a beautiful Trinity ring on your left middle finger, truly a classic. “See?”

His eyes twinkled at the ring, and his hand took yours. When he leaned down and kissed your ring, your nostrils began to get filled up with a sweet aroma, and suddenly you had difficulty breathing. 

Aries’ eyes glanced up at you, half-lidded, and he tilted his head. “Are you alright, (Name)?” 

His voice was muffled in your head, and you knew just how flushed your cheeks were. There was something wrong with the air. You took another sniff of it, your wrist heating up at the course of information. 

You immediately regretted the decision of sniffing the air once more, however, as you let out a groan, your head hurting a bit more than it should. “I-I’m fine.” You muttered, flashing a smile to comfort Aries. “It’s okay; someone’s perfume is just piercing through my nose.”

That seemed to soothe Aries, indeed, as he nodded understandingly. “Of course. Now, let’s get started, shall we?”

“I never say no to a good meal.”

Throughout the entire dinner, you couldn’t focus as much as you wanted to. Especially after you realized that the perfume you were smelling was an aphrodisiac, and that you were almost sure it was from Aries. Did he know that it was an aphrodisiac? Was he planning on drugging you? You couldn’t help it; your guard was up the entire time he talked and you responded. Yet at the same time, you couldn’t keep up security for longer when you constantly had rather… indecent thoughts, not about the man in front of you, but about the man you wished was spying on you.

Ah shit, you are not going home horny for Sylus, out of all people. You won’t allow it.

But when Aries encouraged you to take another glass of wine, just like he did, you couldn’t help it. You accepted his offer, and spent the remaining time wondering just how long until you got home, whilst laughing your ass off at whatever Aries was talking about.

You stumbled as you giggled, grabbing onto Aries’ shoulder. The man you walked into the dinner with was also visibly wasted, with his flushed face and his wobbly walk. 

“You sure you won’t ride with me?” He hiccuped, making you nod vigorously, your pouty lips catching his attention. “Yes, yes!” You exclaimed, slapping his arm playfully. “I’ll be fine. I booked a ride.” Both your speeches slurred as you talked, but it all felt normal to the both of you.

Aries nodded at the same time as you, making his head spin. “Okay.” He grunted, not before cupping your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and you almost sobered fully at that feeling. You couldn’t even process what was going on before he smashed his lips onto yours. Luckily there was no tongue, but it was definitely uncomfortable. You smelled the familiar sweetness you did when you were sober, and your heart sank when you realized that it was him that was wearing the aphrodisiac. And with what he was doing right now, you assumed that he was anticipating you to give in to him.

But for some reason you weren’t. You weren’t aroused by the idea of Aries, nor were you aroused by his actions. They all felt forced, though you had always just brushed it off. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally let go, his lips parted as he panted. “I will see you,” he walked towards his car, where the driver was waiting for him. “In a week’s time, same time!” 

It took you a while to understand what he was saying, but you nodded your head, almost your entire torso as well, when you got the message. “Okay!”

“Goodnight, (Name)!”

“Good night, Aries!”

The moment he left, the hair at your nape stood up, and a shiver ran down your spine. Something dangerous was in the vicinity, but this felt more natural. Familiar, even.

“So, I assume the date went well, given you had to call me to pick you up?” A rich, deep voice echoed in your mind, and a tug almost made you stumble. Luckily, strong hands caught you just in time. Your smile almost blinded you with how high your cheeks were raised as you looked up at Sylus, who had an amused smirk on his face. His eyes, however, told a different story. They held a look of concern and worry, something you’d never seen in his eyes.

“Sylus!” You shouted, flipping your body like you were boneless until your chin was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around your waist, back slightly arched. “I knew you’d come.”

He just scoffed at your words, and his face softened with each second he gazed at you. “So what, is your new boyfriend that much of an idiot to not offer you a ride home? Is he broke? Ashamed of his form of transportation, perhaps?”

You pouted at his questions, knowing all too well despite being drunk that he was teasing you. “Shut up; I told him I already had a ride home.” Your eyes trailed down until his collarbone, and Sylus could’ve sworn something dangerous flashed in your eyes as you did so. “Speaking of which, can we go home?”

“I’m just waiting on you, sweetie.” He muttered, staring at you for a couple more minutes before picking you up swiftly, one arm hooked under your waist and the other under your legs. 

You yelped at the sudden movement, thrashing in his iron grasp. “Jesus Christ, Sylus! Put me down!”

“You’re drunk, and when I saw you, you could barely walk,” he commented, making you huff, leaning on his chest. From how you were positioned, you could hear his heart beating as fast as you’ve ever heard a heart go. Why was it racing so much?

All of this adrenaline had made you forget about the searing heat growing in your abdomen, something that Aries had apparently wanted to happen to you. And with Sylus this close, you could no longer push it aside. 

If you were to be honest, it felt excruciatingly painful, having no friction in that area. And you couldn’t even think properly, so how could you ever distract yourself, or hell, make the better choice?

You moaned quite loudly in Sylus’ arms, earning a raise of his brow. “Is something the matter, (Nickname)?”

You stopped wiggling around in Sylus’ arms before looking up at him, crossing your arms. “Nothing that's your business.” Actually, it technically was his business; you were dreaming of him fucking you.

Your boss scoffed, picking up one of the helmets and placing it on you after helping you stand up, a hand on your waist. His hand accidentally grazed your neck as he did so, making you whimper. The sudden noise made him narrow his eyes, but he brushed it off. It’s probably the alcohol making you a bit more sensitive than usual. 

“Alright, then,” he softly said, and at his voice did you practically melt. You’ve never heard him talk to you like that, and if you were sober, you would’ve probably teased him for it. But now, it just made you conflicted, especially with how every word he spoke sent long, viscous trails of heat down to your core. 

He aided you in straddling the back of his motorcycle as he sat in front, encouraging you to hold onto his waist. But Sylus probably knew that you were going to fall either way, so something was kept wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place on the motorcycle.

Now, you weren’t going to deny, you always thought that Sylus’ Evol was interesting, specifically when it materializes like this. But the aphrodisiac got to you almost immediately, and as he started his motorcycle and began riding home, you let out a moan. Gritting your teeth, you grasped his waist tighter, hands subconsciously trailing down lower and lower until you felt one hand grip them, placing them higher.

Shit, you needed release.

What the fuck were you doing? Sylus thought, brows knit together as he focused more on the road. He knew every single street in the N109 Zone like the back of his hand, but you were making it very difficult for him to remember anything. His pants were already strained from you pressing against his chest earlier, and if he were to allow your devious hands to go lower, he wouldn’t have any choice but to pull over.

But no. You were drunk. Inebriated. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this. Plus, what would happen after? It’s not like you two were in love. He just finds you… interesting.

—--

You waved carelessly at Luke and Kieran when you entered the abode, effectively hitting Sylus in the face in the process. He took it with a grunt, and a glare when the two henchmen stifled their snickering. They waved back at you, of course, making you wave even harder at them, which in turn… hit Sylus again.

“Okay, okay, yes, yes, that’s Luke and Kieran; you’ve said your hellos.” Sylus exasperatedly said, dragging you to your room for you to rest. 

You acquiesced with a huff, but not before waving one last time to them. This time, Sylus was able to dodge your arms, but his slight irritation only grew.

“Okay, there you go.” Sylus muttered as he laid you down on your bed. You sat there as he removed your shoes, staring at his white tufts of hair and skilled hands. The shoes you chose to wear were a bit more complex than your usual ones, and yet Sylus was able to quickly remove them with ease. 

A familiar feeling of heat pooled all the way down, and your brows furrowed at it. A hand came to your chest, studying your heartbeat and regulating your breathing. You were breathing quickly, but you weren’t quite sure why.

Sylus looked up at you, a brow raised. “Is there a reason as to why you’re hyperventilating? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head in big movements before pausing, then nodding your head with the same energy. Sylus kept himself knelt on the edge of your bed, fixing your heels so you won’t trip on them when you wake up. “Oh? There is something wrong? Am I allowed to know?”

“Aries was wearing an aphrodisiac,” you blurted out before hitting your fluff of pillows behind you with a thud. You closed your eyes as you sighed into the bed.

That got Sylus to stay silent for a couple beats, processing what you just said. “Did he do anything to you? Is that why you’re drunk?” Sylus knew Ciel’s address. He could very well drive there and make Aries disappear in less than 30 minutes.

“Hey!” You exclaimed. “Don’t you even think about murdering Aries, because no. He didn’t do anything. I got drunk on my own.”

Sylus stood up, crossing his arms afterwards. “So, has it worn off?”

You slowly opened your eyes to look at Sylus, who was now towering over you. You swallowed thickly, lips parted as you felt your cheeks flush. Heavily, you shook your head, sparking a glint of intrigue in your boss’ eyes. “No?” His voice was low, and oh fuck, that did something to you.

“No.” 

Whether it was your intoxicated state or the aphrodisiac or perhaps both, you weren’t quite sure, but you lost all control over better judgment as you sat up so quickly that it startled Sylus, and pulled him on top of you, arms wrapped around his neck. He visibly tensed, his own arms caging around you to keep himself from crushing you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, and you could slowly feel the alcohol fading away. Though the red wine Aries had the waiters serve was strong, it wasn’t strong enough for you to forget everything that happened tonight.

Ah fuck, you’re going to regret this in the morning.

You ran a hand through the back of his head, making him shiver softly. As you studied his face, you could tell that he was battling with his emotions since his eyes were searching for any kind of sign that you wouldn’t like this in the morning. “Are you sure with what you’re about to do?” He murmured, leaning close but not close enough. It made you feral.

You just grinned at his words before closing the distance, lips slotting against his perfectly. Sylus didn’t retaliate or even move, so you parted after a couple seconds, pouting. Ah, right. You shouldn’t even be doing this. This was taboo, right? Like the books you’ve seen your mother read.

But just as you were about to shove him away and out of your room to satisfy yourself, he reeled you in for another kiss, but this time more desperate. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he did, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer to your core. You shivered blissfully at the needed friction, hips grinding against his erratically.

Sylus groaned into your mouth, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for permission. You allowed him, of course. At that point in time you would’ve allowed him to do anything he wanted. God, he tasted like how you imagined him. Not like you constantly thought about what he tasted like, though. 

The fluid pleasure in your core built up, and you whined at the feeling, needing to feel him more. Needing him more. God, you hated aphrodisiacs. Well, at least you had personal experience about them stored in your wrist.

You parted from the kiss with a pant, chest heaving as you did so. You were quick to work in slipping your hand under Sylus’ shirt to remove it, but he was just as swift in holding your wrist in warning. You stopped right where his heart was, so you could see almost his entire chest. And his heart; it was beating incredibly quickly. Is he even human?

“Don’t,” his voice was hoarse, lips swollen. It was a sight to behold. “Do anything you’ll regret in the morning. You’re still drunk.”

You whined as he got off you, though you didn’t fail to notice the hesitation in his actions, nor the hand to his lips. “Sylus,” you called out, squeezing your thighs shut at the loss of pleasure. 

His hands twitched at your voice, the only indication that he was struggling to hold back. Your boss looked back at you over his shoulder, and you could’ve sworn his jaw tightened when he saw you slumped on your headrest, knees together. 

Sylus’ eyes laid on your lips, used and pink from his own. They were parted, as if waiting for him to connect his lips to yours once more. And in that moment, he probably would’ve. “You can’t think straight, (Nickname).” He simply said, making your nose scrunch. “I’m sobering up by the minute!” You hit your mattress. “And it hurts. So much.”

That got his attention. He fully turned to face you, expression full of concern. “What hurts?”

Suddenly having the ability to feel embarrassed, you averted his gaze, looking down at your body. You gulped as he finally understood what you were referring to, and he smirked slyly. “It does? And what does that have to do with me?”

“So, now you’ve changed up.” You snapped, mind finally hurting from the aftereffects of the alcohol. “A minute ago, you were so caring.”

“You know that I’m not as caring as you think, sweetie.” He muttered. His actions deceived him, however as he began walking towards you, and you felt the need to squeeze your thighs tighter. “Do you want my help or not?”

…Wait. 

Is he actually offering?

Your mind started to flood with images of Sylus on top of you, his face contorted with pleasure as he bottomed out. That earned a shivering gasp from you, lips biting.

He seemed to notice it, however, and he just chuckled. “Not yet, sweetie. I won’t do… anything that will discomfort you when you realize what’s going on, but…” Sylus sat down on your bed, making the mattress sink. He painfully slowly removed his shoes, and the leather jacket that he had on. With the same speed, he crawled to be in front of you, his hands spreading your legs. “I will help you get over this aphrodisiac, since it hurts so much.”

You muttered something about him being a sarcastic ass even when you were in this state until he placed a kiss on your inner thigh. You jolted at that, inhaling sharply through the nose at the same time. Because of it, you tried to close your legs, but Sylus’ firm grip against your knees kept them locked in place, and a coy smirk slapped itself on his face; you wanted nothing more than to slap it off him.

“Ah-ah-ah, (Nickname), don’t be closing your legs now,” he teased, dipping his head low. He shifted the skirt of your dress (with the help of you lifting up your hips) until it was bunched up on your lower abdomen. The fabric made it difficult for you to see what was going on, but Sylus had a perfect view of the wet spot in your underwear. He ogled at it, drunk at the sight. Licking his lips, he dipped low, his hands sliding higher until both were wrapped around each respective thigh, holding them in place. “Not when you’ve already asked for my help. It would be rude of me to not accept it, right?”

You couldn’t even answer him; your eyes were glued to his own as he stared at your underwear. Without thinking, you grabbed your bunched up skirt and placed the extra fabric to the side so that you could see the man in between your legs better. He raised a brow, amused at your antics. “Want a view, don’t you?”

You just snorted. “Duh. I have the leader of Onichynus on his stomach and in between my thighs. I need this burned in my memory.” 

Sylus scoffed. He started to pepper kisses all over your inner thighs, always growing closer to the warm spot but never actually moving there. Your resolve grew weaker every time his tongue flicked out to lick the line that connected your thighs and your hips, and he knew just how crazy he was making you feel.

You dragged his name out in a plea, head resting on the bed’s headboard. With a low chuckle, he nodded, using a hand to slide your underwear to the side. What was hiding beneath it glistened in your room’s warm lighting, and Sylus cursed under his breath, feeling himself twitch on your mattress. 

One kiss was all it took for you to lose all sense of logic. A whiny moan escaped you as he languidly used his tongue to collect some slick and lay flat against your clit, going in soft circles afterwards. Your hand instinctively ran through his hair, pulling and urging him to go faster. 

He grunted at what you did, but he couldn’t deny just how much that turned him on, you using him like this. You begged him to go quicker, and who was he to refuse?

The hands that were wrapped around your thighs pulled you closer to his mouth, and he allowed himself to savor the taste of you. You yelped when he pulled you since your legs naturally went to go over his shoulders. Sylus gripped them for them to stay there as he devoured you.

You couldn’t believe this. The leader of Onichynus was burying himself in the pleasure that was the heat of your thighs. And he was clearly enjoying himself, too, with how many low moans vibrated through you. The aphrodisiac worked wonders as the slight roughness of his tongue worked at you, and you found yourself a moaning mess not even 5 minutes in, begging and whining for more.

Sylus was more than happy to oblige to your pleading, of course. When you told him to stay in that spot, he would, and when you told him to go harder, he did.

And you had to admit, his tongue was skillful in what it was doing. You’ve never doubted his abilities in pleasing women, but to actually experience it was something else. It prodded your entrance, teasing you, until it finally entered. You let out a cry, tugging his hair even more to pull him closer.

Your thighs pressed against the sides of his face, and he groaned at the feeling, nose brushing up against your clit as he relished in your cunt. The more you stared at him, the more you realized just how close you were to the edge, and how much you were probably staining your mattress. Ugh, you’d have to clean this up in the morning. 

Your breaths came in either small hiccups or shallow pants, and there were times where you had to remind yourself to breathe and not just hold your breath as you gazed at the man eating you out. 

“Sylus,” you breathed out, swallowing saliva that accumulated. “I-I’m so close, Sylus—”

“I know,” was his muffled response, voice thick with the desire to please you. “Use me, (Nickname).”

…oh shit.

You bit your lip, guiding Sylus’ head whilst he resumed what he was doing before. Pleasure and pressure both built inside of you, and you couldn’t help but mutter your boss’ name like a prayer, hoping that if you did, he would easily relieve you.

In all honesty, it didn’t take much for him to do so. Fuck, just the sound of his voice was enough for him to flick his tongue expertly into your entrance or across your clit. As you practically rode his face, one of his hands slid up to your abdomen, where he applied pressure at a rhythmic pace.

You gasped at the addition of ecstacy, and you cried his name out, hips spasming as thighs tightened around his face. Your back arched at how intense your orgasm was, eyes squeezed shut. When they weren’t, they were rolled to the back of your skull. 

Sylus grunted when you practically coated his entire face as fluids escaped you, but he wasn’t complaining. He took every single drop you gave him, eager to please and to be used. He let out a low moan, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to catch the liquid you released, and you twitched under his touch, muttering him to stop. Your hand on his hair told a different story, though, as it continued to tug his head towards your cunt. 

He only did stop when you finally let go of his hair, a sting entering his scalp. The pain felt amazingly good, though, so he couldn’t care less. You stared half-lidded at him as he panted, swallowing the remaining juices he had in his mouth. 

“How are you feeling?” Sylus muttered, planting one more kiss on your still-swollen clit. You jerked at that, squeezing his head again. You winced before murmuring a small sorry. “I-I,” you began to say, but your tongue felt fat in your mouth. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to catch your breath, so you just sighed softly, letting your head rest against the headboard. 

Sylus got the memo and just chuckled, removing his grasp of your thighs. He gingerly (which was unusual of him) set your legs down from his shoulders; they flopped onto the bed like they were jelly. Jesus, you would’ve been so embarrassed.

“I’m assuming it’s faded?” He guessed, using his hand to wipe his face first. He could still taste you in his mouth. You barely nodded, eyes closing as your mind drifted away from reality.

Sylus smirked at your vulnerable position right now. He glanced at your glowing right wrist as it processed the experience and stored the information from it. So it really does collect everything.

When he put his eyes back at you, he noticed that you were asleep, energy no longer enough to keep you awake. You were still wearing your makeup and champagne dress, and he knew it wouldn’t be comfortable to wake up in that. 

The last thing you heard before fully drifting off was Sylus’ footsteps weakening, and a door closing. Ah, he must’ve left you. Of course, his duty was finally fulfilled; why should he stay for even longer?

—--

When Sylus came back from your bathroom, he had makeup wipes and remover in one hand, a warm damp face towel in the other, and a pair of comfortable pajamas he’d recently bought you. You were fast asleep when he placed the items in his hands on the nightstand and clothes on your bed. And he had to admit, it was cute.

Carefully, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, one leg folded on it. He readied a makeup wipe with remover and cradled your head with his hand, using the other one to gently wipe the foundation and such off your face.

He didn’t dare to speak or wake you up the entire time, instead he used his Evol to turn on the vinyl player he’d gifted you a year ago to play some jazz. Ella Fitzgerald was always your favorite, so he always bought her vinyls. Her and Chet Baker.

So as Ella serenaded the room, he rubbed circles on your face with the towel, removing any excess while also exfoliating your skin. After it, your skin was flushed, red and sensitive from hours of wearing makeup. 

Then, he worked on slipping the sleeves of your dress off you, pulling the rest down until you were just in your underwear. He brought another pair of underwear just in case, so he removed everything until you were bare. Sylus grabbed the damp towel once more and cleaned your inner thighs more thoroughly until it was no longer sticky and full of slick. With that, he grabbed the new pair of underwear and slipped them on you. It wasn’t long until a comfortable shirt and pants were on you, and Sylus unclasped your bra easily and removed it with your shirt still on. You always complained about having to wear bras. 

He cleaned everything up quite quickly, too, placing your dirty  clothes in your hamper before leaving, dimming the lights until only a soft glow emanated in the room. Sylus had left the player on; it would’ve probably stopped the moment you woke up, anyway.

And as he left, he wondered to himself why had he even done you that favor. The first thought that popped up was that it was from the goodness of his heart, but you both knew he didn’t have such thing. He was just…protective of what he had. If he wasn’t, everything he owned would be broken, right?

With that, he called up a hitman. Not for an assassination attempt, but for a warning. A hollow bullet would hit a vase, and inside it was the message, use that perfume again, and your bones will be the next thing up for auction.

It was just Sylus being protective.