hauntedbysmut
hauntedbysmut
44 posts
self-indulgent smut writing, you say? don't mind if I do.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
hauntedbysmut · 9 days ago
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Shhh honey, it’s alright. I love that groggy voice you make when you’re sleepy, you’ve been moaning in it for the last few minutes. Hey calm down, just relax for me, ok baby? I’m going slow, just how you like it. Just stay calm and take it, then we can go right back to sleep, ok?
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hauntedbysmut · 10 days ago
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I should be able to both read for 8hrs a night and sleep for 8hrs a night. That I cannot is very rude and, frankly, poor design.
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hauntedbysmut · 12 days ago
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men who can’t keep their mouth off of yours … who love to kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss …….. his hand on the side of your neck, his body pressed against yours ………….. breathless, desperate, passionate
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hauntedbysmut · 12 days ago
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Thinking of a man moaning "thank you" when he finally gets to cum inside 💕
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hauntedbysmut · 12 days ago
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fictional men who get heart eyes the first time they fuck you because it's the best pussy they've ever had
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hauntedbysmut · 15 days ago
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I AM NOT OKAY
Byeeeee his morning voice 😳😳😳
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hauntedbysmut · 19 days ago
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"you're mine" but not laced with jealousy, not with possession or any fear of losing you
but rather "you're mine" whispered with the gentle graze of teeth along your neck, "you're mine" groaned with incredulity as you lave your tongue over his lower lip, "you're mine" as he slips inside, repeating it over and over again because even in this very moment, it seems too good to be true
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hauntedbysmut · 26 days ago
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@lynk5475, your fic request is here! 💕
Rave Bae
Tags: modern-day AU with evol still included, brat tamer! Xavier, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, spanking, light bondage with evol, hair-pulling, semi-clothed sex, aftercare
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Photo credit also @lynk5475
Feel free to take the link or read below the cut.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63759106
The music felt like a living thing in her veins, the beat matching her heart’s steady pounding, limbs flowing to each shift as the hoop swung around her. Like an extension of her arms, she let the fluidity of the song guide her movements, her body shifting with the hoop as it oscillated. She felt like the living embodiment of sound in this moment. Sweat clung and dripped between her breasts and slid down her legs. She had no awareness of how long she had been moving, just that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.
Despite having come alone, she had never felt lonely with the constant press of bodies all around and the steady drug of music suffusing her veins.
That was when he saw her. As Closer by Byor beat all around them, her hoop mesmerized him as if he were a snake and she were the charmer. The dangling stars on her mesh sleeves glinted with her hoop. Her outfit was almost entirely black, the lights she moved so gracefully clearly meant to be the main focus. Even still, he found himself admiring the curve of her waist, the cutouts just below her breasts and above her belly button. He moved toward her as if drawn in by the lyrics and her movements, unable to resist the pull of her magnetic energy. As he moved toward her, her eyes opened and locked onto him, her flow unhindered even as she gave him a little twirl and wide smile.
Now that he was closer, he could see the light pattern of stars and moons along the fabric of her shorts and crop top. Buckles connected the top of her crop to a zipped halter choker, a belt crossing her waist, and two more at the bottom of each leg of her shorts. The sleeves seemed to be held on by pure magic, as her shoulders were bare, but the mesh material clung to the well-defined curve of her arm muscles. Between the lights from the stage and the lights of her hoop, her eyes sparkled at him, the sweat on her body adding another dimension of light to her dance. He couldn’t look away if he tried. He continued to move, still giving her room to flow, but watching raptly even as her eyes closed again and he could see her give her body over to the music.
He longed to reach out and touch her, to slide against her and let the music take them both. He had never felt such a strong pull to a complete stranger before.
As the song ended, the MC announced the last set of the night, beginning to thank everyone for coming, even with an hour remaining. As she reined in her hoop, he approached her fully. Her face was open and bright, and her chest was moving with her quick breaths.
“You’re really talented,” he said, calling over the noise of the speakers. She looked at him curiously and pointed to her ear, shaking her head. He moved in and placed his hand on her waist as he brought his lips closer to her ear, her own body craning forward to meet him. “I said you’re really talented,” he repeated, volume slightly lower now that he was so close.
He could feel her smiling against his cheek as she leaned into his own ear and responded. “Thanks! You know, we kind of match!” He pulled back and looked at her outfit again, his eyes reminding him of his own black shirt with silvery stars and planets. He laughed and leaned back in.
“We do!” Glancing back down at his arm, he saw a bracelet that he felt fit her perfectly. “Do you mind?” He pulled back, letting his hand slide slowly from her waist, and pointed at his right arm, covered in kandi. She shook her head again and easily pressed her left hand against his. Beneath the mesh of her sleeve, he saw a plethora of kandi, the result of three days of festival-going and countless trades.
Together, they said, “Peace, Love, Unity, Respect,” moving their hands with each word until their hands were clasped together at the end. Grabbing the bracelet he had seen, he moved it over the others and onto her wrist. She pulled one from her own wrist, placing it on his arm. Unable to help himself, he kissed her hand before he let go, looking at the bracelet she had given him.
“Nightlight,” she giggled into his ear, having read his.
“My star?” he asked. Being so close, he could smell the combination of her sweat and perfume, a heady scent of flowery pheromones invading his senses. She giggled and his cock hardened against the zipper of his cut-off shorts.
“I’ve been saving that one all weekend for someone special.” He pulled back and she laughed at his dazed expression. She grabbed the open collar of his shirt and pulled him back in. “I know we just met, but you sure seem special,” she said, her voice dropping into a more sensual tone. She moved back slowly, her eyes searching his as she did, feeling as if she were drowning in the depth of his gorgeous, oceanic eyes.
The tension between them ramped up, and as she looped her hoop around the two of them briefly, the music started again.
The energy between them had changed, charged with a promise of something new. She winked at him as she let her hoop flow around her slowly, stepping away from him again as the intro to Drift Like a Cloud, Flow Like Water by INZO led them in. Her body moved sensually, sliding against the hoop. His heart was pounding as the music ramped up, the drop into the song sending her into a burst of movement.
Feeling the inspiration of the song, he let his evol loose, creating small poi-esque balls of light that he directed toward her, having them drift through her hoop as she faltered slightly, her eyes rounding at his evol’s playful dance around her. He knew it was rare, and her reaction wasn’t new. Most people were shocked when they saw light evol. She watched each ball, her hoop continuing to move as she smiled with wonder. His evol poi moved around him, pulsing to the beat of the song as they danced together.
When the song ended, she let her hoop lay across her shoulders, reaching out to touch the evol poi. Just as she was about to touch one, he had it burst into a small firework, and she shrieked in delight. He let his evol dissipate as she looped him into her hoop again.
She pushed up onto her toes as she reached her head toward his ear, her hands pushing against the bare skin of his chest. “That was amazing! I knew you were special!” She gave him a swift peck on the cheek before he could react, and his hands planted themselves on her hips.
The last hour of the festival, they danced in her hoop, bodies sliding against each other until the hoop fell to the ground and surrounded their legs with light. They hardly talked, their bodies doing all of the talking in the moments the music melded them together. Their breaths mingled, lips meeting at random, her hands slung over his shoulders as his hands wandered across her back, sides, and hips. Her eyes were glued to his the entire time, and be it the music or the atmosphere or this insane connection they both felt, she had never felt so at home as she did in his arms.
Time passed far too quickly. Before either of them knew it, the crowd was starting to head toward the exits, their bubble broken with the reality of a night coming to an end.
She laced her fingers with his and picked up her hoop, gently swinging it around his head to rest against her shoulder and across her chest.
“Where were you at the beginning of the weekend?” She asked softly, her eyes full of sorrow.
He couldn’t stand that look in her eyes, and even though they had just met, he knew he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
“Come back to my hotel with me?”
She paused. “Are you sure? I could be a serial killer.”
He laughed. “If I’m being so reckless, I would deserve a death at your hand.”
She giggled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come back to your hotel with you.” Her cheeks, already rosy from exertion, deepened in color. He felt a deep wave of satisfaction sink into his chest knowing he had been the one to put that color there and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face at her answer.
“It’s only a block from here, so we can just walk.” He kept his hand firmly grasped with hers as he led them out of the grounds and back to the street. The walk was short, sidewalks packed with other festival-goers who had the same idea and were walking back to their hotels. The energy was still high, and people were exchanging kandi all over the place, creating pockets where the flow of people became congested. He was thankful his hotel was so close, a feeling of urgency to get her safely into his room and away from all of these people thrumming through him.
She didn’t seem to mind the crowd, her spare hand holding on to her hoop as they maneuvered through the clusters of people and into the lobby. After a quick elevator ride, they stood outside of his door.
He suddenly felt nervous. He had never had a one night stand or a “rave bae” before. He was overcome with thoughts about etiquette and a deep concern about the state he had left his room in before he had left that morning. She seemed placid beside him, though her own mind was racing with similar thoughts.
As he opened the door and ushered her inside, she switched off the lights on her hoop and set it down on the floor, pushing her shoes off by the door, and making her way farther in. His bed had been made by housekeeping, and his trash cans were empty, and he silently thanked them in his head as he noticed how nice his room looked. She sat on the edge of his bed, and the sudden silence in the room lay heavily around them.
She smiled at him, leaning back on her hands. Rubbing the back of his neck, they both burst into laughter.
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded. “I could definitely eat something. I don’t remember when I ate last, if I’m being honest.”
Feeling a new sense of purpose, he opened the mini-fridge and got two waters out. “We definitely both need to drink some water and hydrate.” He handed her the bottle and drank down his own.
“Actually, do you mind if I grab a shower?” She lifted her arm and sniffed gently before laughing. “I think I’ll be better company if I don’t smell like this.”
“Help yourself. I’ll order us some food while you get cleaned up.”
Moving into the bathroom, she stripped down and let the hot water scour her skin, using the hotel toiletries to wash her hair and body until she felt like a new person. Climbing out of the shower, she grabbed the hotel robe and wrapped it around herself. Hearing soft music filtering under the bathroom door, she walked back out to the main room. He was laying on his bed, his eyes meeting her and darkening slightly as he took in her robed form.
“Feel better?”
She nodded and laid next to him, arranging the robe so that it still covered the tops of her thighs.
“I think I’ll take a quick shower, too,” he said, handing his phone over to her. “Feel free to change the song or dig through my playlists.”
With that, he made his way to the bathroom as she busied herself with learning his music tastes. As he reentered the room in nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants, she clicked on Nightlight by Illenium.
He smiled softly down at her as he walked over to stand at the base of the bed, slotting his hips between her dangling legs. She smiled up at him, pushing up into a sitting position to reach for him. He bent down, his hands falling on either side of her as she put her arms around his neck. His lips met hers in a gentle kiss, using the leverage to kneel down between her legs at the end of the bed. He pulled her body into him, the robe riding up her legs, his hands finding the exposed flesh and kneading her thighs.
He sat back slightly, pulling away for a moment. “We don’t have to do anything else tonight if you’re not comfortable with that.” She smiled as she leaned forward to kiss him again.
“Such a gentleman…” She pushed her hands into his wet hair, giving it a sharp tug, a little gasp leaving his lips. “What I need is for you to not be a gentleman right now.”
His eyes blazed as he looked back at her. Then he was moving, his hands pushing up under her robe until he was gripping her bare hips, his lips back on hers, teeth nipping at her lips. She rolled her hips toward his and his grip tightened. “Be a good girl and wait your turn,” he growled, pressing his tongue between her lips and devouring her. She moaned into his mouth, digging her hands further into his hair, and scraping her nails against his scalp.
His thumbs swiped along the crease of her thighs and she felt her pulse jump in response. She shifted her hips side to side, trying to press his hands closer to her core, but he resisted. When she moved a hand to grab one of his and put it where she wanted it, he took her hand and pressed it to the mattress.
“Looks like someone needs to learn patience,” he growled, bracketing her wrist to her side. She nipped his lip in response, whining. “And respect.” He brought his other hand away from her core, grabbing her unrestrained arm. “Maybe we should tie these together so you can’t cause any more trouble,” he whispered, his eyes flicking with amusement as she whined again.
Pushing back to his feet quickly, he took both of her hands and held them together. He pushed her back down onto the mattress, making a quick evol rope around her wrists before he released them. She looked at his hands in confusion before pulling her own hands down in front of her face to see what was holding them together. He grabbed her arms and pushed them back above her head again.
“Leave these here,” he ordered, pinching the skin of her thigh gently in his other hand.
“Did you just make restraints with your evol?” She whimpered and then closed her eyes and groaned. “Fuck… why is that so hot?”
He smirked at her before grabbing her leg and stepping back slightly. With a quick move, she was flipped onto her stomach, a small squeal of surprise escaping her. He took each of her legs and arranged her until she was face down, ass up like his own personal feast. He slid his hands up and down the backs of her thighs. His fingers pressed just slightly into the middle of her legs, continuing to tease her even as she could feel her own arousal beginning to coat her inner thighs. In this position, he could see how wet she was, especially now that he had her exposed to his gaze.
“Look at you. So needy,” he whispered to himself. He used his thumbs to spread her cheeks apart, and her face flamed with heat and embarrassment. A satisfied thrill rolled through him at the willingness she had shown to his proclivities so far. He liked to dominate, and it seemed she wasn’t willing to give up control quite that easily, which he had no problem with.
She squirmed under his perusal, bringing her arms back in toward herself in an effort to get up and look at him. A firm hand in the center of her back stopped her momentum and pressed her back onto her face. “Touch me!”
A sharp smack landed against her ass and she moaned. “Remember your manners, princess,” he murmured, his hand soothing where he had just struck with gentle swipes.
“Please, please touch me…” she paused. “Wait, what’s your name?”
He spanked her again before leaning forward. “It’s Xavier, princess.” He nipped her neck and turned her head to kiss her. “Remember it so you know what to scream later.”
She moaned loudly. “Xavier, please. Please touch me.”
“I was under the impression I was already doing that,” he snarked, tracing his fingers along a hand print. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
She whined and shook her ass at him, parting her legs further, even as slick dripped onto the duvet below her. He chuckled and she felt his breath against her left cheek before his teeth bit into her skin. “You’re a brat,” he murmured against her flesh, spanking opposite of his bite. Seeing her skin reddening from his attentions got him even more excited, and his erection leaked precum into his sweats as he teased her. “Tell me what you want.” He let his thumb slide toward her cunt, her thighs flexing as she anticipated his touch. He stopped just short of where he knew she wanted him and waited.
She let out another desperate sound, tilting her hips to try to get him to slip inward, but he gripped her ass and gave her another harsh spank. She cried out again. “Please, Xavier. I want you to touch my pussy.”
He hummed happily as he leaned down again and licked along one of the red marks he had left behind. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He slid his fingers along her drenched slit, gathering the moisture on his fingers before pushing two into her. She clenched around him, a long, low moan like music to his ears as he pumped shallowly. He dipped his thumb down to slide against her clit each time his fingers pressed inward, and she pressed back against his hand with each pass.
As he fingered her, he added light smacks to her ass, her cunt clenching around his fingers each time he did. Her moans were getting louder, and she started pressing faster against his hand. Then, just as she was about to come, he pulled his fingers out. She cried out in frustration, her orgasm just out of reach as he kneaded her ass with his hands, bending over her back.
“You forgot to tell me one very important detail, princess,” he said, licking the shell of her ear. “You didn’t say you wanted me to make you come.”
She bucked back against him, earning another swift spank. “All you have to do is say it, sweetheart.” He chuckled, kissing her cheek.
“I want you to make me come,” she whispered, looking back at him as best she could.
“Gooood,” he said, sliding back down her back. Instead of his fingers touching her again though, she clenched her legs as she felt his tongue coast against her, licking from clit to perineum. His hands spread her for his head to settle between her legs, tongue flicking relentlessly against her clit as her orgasm began to build again, faster than before, until it was a wave above her head and she knew she was going to drown. As the pleasure hit her, he continued to lick and suck, taking everything she gave him and then some.
Her eyes were hooded as he leaned up to kiss her, the tang of her own release still stark on his tongue as he slid it against her own. “Let me know if it is too much, okay princess?” he whispered in her ear as she heard him shifting behind her. She nodded with partially hooded eyes, looking back to see him pushing his sweats down his legs, his cock dripping with his own arousal.
He stepped slightly to the side so she could see him better, one of his hands moving along his length as he slid the precum along himself. She moaned as she watched him, imagining the way he would feel inside of her. He picked up a condom packet that seemed to appear as if from nowhere. Tearing it open with his teeth, he pulled the condom out and rolled it onto himself.
He moved back behind her, pressing the tip to her and rubbing it against her slick, their combined arousal making lewd sounds she could hear over the music’s soft volume. She pressed back against him instinctively, wanting to feel him press inside, and with a short moment of hesitation, he slid all the way in. They both groaned at the feeling, her walls spasming around him before he pulled back just a little bit and slammed back in.
One of his hands came up and slid beneath her hair, pulling it into a ponytail and bracing against her scalp, gently tugging her head backward. She pulled her tethered hands underneath herself as he thrust a few more times, her back arching with the new tension against her head.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hissed, taking a couple of shallow dips into her before setting a hard, deep pace. The sight of her so fully at his mercy, spread out on his cock had his mind spiraling. He had never seen such a beautiful sight. Never felt so strongly for someone he had only just met. To him, she was perfect like this. Perfect with him.
The slight pain of her hair being pulled coupled with the pleasure of his balls slapping her clit quickly had her spiraling back up again, but as she neared her peak, her cries rising in pitch, he slowed, changing to a short, shallow thrust, and her orgasm subsided. She immediately realized what he was going to do, and as she internally berated herself for not anticipating it, she was determined to hold out until he gave in. She clenched her jaw and pushed back toward him, earning a smack to her ass as he tutted in disapproval.
“You know what to do if you want to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, his voice breathy from his harder pace. She kept her mouth shut, and he laughed. “Mmm, still a brat. We’ll see how long that lasts.” With that, he thrust back in to the hilt, his cock slamming into her as he bent over her back. One of his hands slid around to grab at her swinging breasts, and she belatedly wondered when the robe had fallen open completely. Before long, she was at the edge again, and he backed off once more.
He repeated this three more times before she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, a frustrated sob breaking her lips when he stopped just before she was able to come again. He slowed and released her hair, pushing the hand that had been holding it up under her robe and dragging his dull nails down her back. “Please,” she moaned brokenly. “Please make me come. Please make us come.”
“There we go,” he said, his voice full of pride. His hands gripped her hips to hold her up as her chest slumped back to the bed.
He took a brutal pace, his hands gripping her hips so hard she knew they would have his fingerprints on them tomorrow. His breathing was harsh as the loud sounds of their coupling took over her senses, his moans mingling and twisting with her own. Where he had previously slowed before, he now pounded through her, her mouth hanging open on silent scream as the pleasure somehow built impossibly higher, praises falling from his lips before everything went white and she was distantly aware of his name being screamed aloud until he slumped down on top of her.
He immediately released his hold of his evol, her wrists no longer tied together as he fell next to her on the bed, thoroughly exhausted, feeling like his soul had been reborn from the force of the orgasm he had just had. He pulled her in to lay on his chest, brushing her slightly sweat-damp hair away from her face, a satisfied smile gracing her mouth. He smiled at her satiated expression and kissed her gently.
As the world came back into focus around her, she couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed. He got up from the bed and she heard the sink running in the bathroom before he was back beside her, gently separating her legs again to clean her thighs. He pulled his sweatpants back on, and returned to the bed with take out containers full of food.
“I totally forgot that you ordered food before I got in the shower,” she mumbled, her face still plastered to the duvet.
He chuckled gently, helping her sit up and rearranging her robe to cover her again as he helped her get situated against the headboard. They spent the next 30 minutes feeding each other take out, Xavier having ordered a wide variety of foods, citing that he didn’t know her preferences, and talking about their rave histories. He asked her how she had gotten into flow, and she asked him what artists had peaked his interest in rave festivals. They talked until both of them fell asleep, his arms cradling her to his chest as she used his arm for a pillow.
The next morning, she slipped from his room, changing back into her clothes from the previous night and leaving a gentle kiss against his forehead. She slipped from his hotel room quietly, rushing back to her own hotel to change, pack, and get to the airport for her flight.
As he woke up alone, he felt a pang of sadness and disappointment. He had secretly hoped she might stay and they could get to know each other better. Shifting against the bed, he heard the crinkle of paper, and reached out to find it. Flicking on the light next to the bed, he read the note she had left:
Xavier,
Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. I wish I could have stayed, but I am a sucker for early flights. I put my number in your phone last night, and I would love to hear from you if you’re interested in something more than a one night thing. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll cherish this night always.
Keep shining, my star.
Yours,
Rave Bae <3
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hauntedbysmut · 1 month ago
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How they sleep:
Zayne: On his side, one arm draped over you. Doesn't move much, but his head might end up resting against your chest by 'pure chance'. If he has nightmares, he holds you a little tighter.
Xavier: Doesn't make noise or move at all. Seems dead except for his moving chest. This isn't a problem unless he falls asleep on top of you, crushing you. Immovable object.
Rafayel: Moves around quite a bit, and if he wakes up, he always complains about how 1. You're hogging the blanket and 2. You're not cuddling him. (He literally pushed away the blanket and you himself)
Sylus: While Xavier might crush you by accident, this man does it on purpose. Fully covering your body with his, face neatly tucked against your neck. He snores constantly but softly.
Caleb: Spooning, iron grip version. You're not going anywhere while he's out. Sometimes he talks in his sleep. Your name, mostly. He doesn't tend to snore, but when he does, it's one singular loud as hell snore.
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hauntedbysmut · 1 month ago
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fanfic writers are so fucking awesome man. they write novel length fics that are sometimes even better than some published bestselling books written by professional writers. like fanfic writers are professional writers to me and they gift us their masterpieces for free. they give us something we can look forward to after a long day. something from which we can seek comfort when life is hard. something that can be our own little getaway. in a world of capitalism, despite everything, they give us all of these for free. like holy fuck. shout out to every fanfic writer. I wish all fanfic writers a very ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. I thank you from the bottom of my heart’
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hauntedbysmut · 1 month ago
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。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚.Men that moan  ゚・。・゚
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hauntedbysmut · 1 month ago
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@addiglessthanthree, your drabble is here. 😘
Morning Worship
Tags: mole worship, fellatio, fluff and smut, p in v sex, drabble
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Feel free to take the link or read the drabble below the cut.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63423952
Mornings like this were your favorite. When the light slowly began to filter through the gauzy curtains of Rafayel’s bedroom and gently lit his face with soft, pink light, breaths even and light. Despite his sprawled position across the pillows and the tangled state of the blankets, his face wore a peaceful expression, mouth opened slightly as his chest rose and fell with even breaths.
Ethereal. It was the only word that fit to describe him.
Leaning up on your elbow, you drew your fingertips along the contours of his chest and torso, sleepy, incoherent murmurs slipping from Rafayel’s lips, his head shifting with momentary restlessness as your touch skated along his skin. Your lips tilted up in an indulgent smile, and despite the exhaustion you knew he likely still felt after the activity of the night before, your appreciation couldn’t wait a second longer. Pulling his left arm up from the bed and into your hands, you turned and kissed the two moles on his forearm, moving up toward his elbow and kissing the third just before the crease. Rafayel groaned in his sleep, shifting again slightly as you adjusted upward to kiss the next mole on his shoulder.
Pulling his arm from your grasp, he rolled toward you, effectively cutting you off from his left side entirely. Letting out a huff of derisive laughter, you sat up and climbed over him, depositing yourself behind him and against his right shoulder. Leaning forward, you kissed the mole on the back of his right shoulder, Rafayel pushing it back into your lips, letting out another whine when you remained undeterred. You pulled his arm until he rolled onto his back and swung your leg over his blanketed hips, straddling him. He threw his left arm over his eyes dramatically.
“Some of us are still trying to sleep,” he grumbled up at you.
You hummed in agreement briefly before picking his right arm up and kissing the mole near his elbow, then down to the two on his forearm. He pulled his arm from his eyes and looked up at you with bleary, sleep-riddled eyes.
“I take it I’m not allowed to sleep anymore?”
You hummed in the affirmative again, leaning in and kissing the mole adjacent to the bridge of his nose. He sighed heavily, hands lifting to pull you closer until he plastered your upper body to his, skin to skin. You let your arms fold against his chest as you leaned in, placing rapid kisses along his jawline, then ending with a kiss to each heavy eyelid.
“You were just so pretty.” You kissed the mole below his right eye. “I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” Another quick kiss to the mole next to the right side of his nose. “Or my lips.”
He scoffed and a blush stole across his cheekbones, even as he kept his eyes shut, shy in the light of your early morning attention.
You shimmied down his body, skin dragging against skin as you wedged your knees between his legs, his arms loosening around you as you kissed along his neck. The blush on his skin was spreading to his ears and his upper chest.
“So, so pretty in the morning light.” He squirmed again, covering his face with his arms again, even as he leaned into your lips against him. You smiled against him, kissing hickeys you had sucked into the skin of his clavicle and shoulders, making sure to spend a moment sucking each one gently again to refresh their color. Rafayel moaned beneath you, but kept his arms in place over his eyes. You kissed the mole on the left side of his neck, just above a bite mark you had given him, then made your way down to his chest. Following the line of his sternum, you kissed each mole in your path with dedication, not a single one of the three in your path missing your attention. You nibbled along his pecs, giving long flat licks to each nipple, enjoying the breathy sounds that Rafayel was attempting to hide from you.
“What are you doing?” He whined as you sucked a nipple, scraping your teeth lightly against it.
“Worshipping you, your highness,” You teased.
His arms dropped from his face and his eyes burned with a sudden awake intensity, the pink and blue pools fiery.
His eyebrow raised in amusement and he repositioned his arms behind his head. You smiled up at him as you shifted down further, targeting the other marks and moles you could see, eyes flicking up to him to find him watching you with his lips slightly parted. The rise and fall of his chest and the rapid beat of his heart thrilled you. Each drag of your lips as you moved lower and lower made your own heartbeat kick up into an excited beat. Sitting back onto your heels, you pulled the blankets from where they were wedged between you, his morning wood a solid weight against your hand as you freed the remainder of his covered body from the sheet.
Using your feet to push the covers lower, you slid your body down until your face was even with his pelvic bone. Rafayel moaned again when you kissed just to the side of his hardened length, hands kneading into his inner thighs, letting your teeth scrape down, avoiding his clearly needy cock. Rafayel lifted his hips, trying to push your mouth closer to where he wanted it.
You laughed, low and sensual, and Rafayel’s eyes briefly closed as he heard it. “Patience, fishie.”
You let your hands drag as your lips trailed along the strong muscles of his legs, pushing them along the exterior of his powerful thighs before dragging your fingertips up and down his sides and bracketing his cock. His hips bucked up with a quiet needy noise and feeling merciful, you wrapped your thumb and pointer finger around the base of him, pulling upward until all of the fingers of your hand were wrapped firmly around him. You tilted your hand so that your mouth could find the single mole on the underside of his cock, lips lingering until he whined again. You pushed your tongue into the delicate skin and made a long, slow lick up the vein that throbbed alongside him to the head, swirling it around and collecting his precum on your tongue. You looked up at him to see his pupils dilated, arms tense behind his head.
“Such a good boy.” You licked him again and his head fell back, letting out a desperate sounding moan before his head snapped back up to watch you.
You took him into your mouth, laving his cock with alternating sucks and licks on each pass up and down. You let the morning glow bathe both of you with light, keeping your pace slow and sensual, focusing more on creating as much sensation as possible for both of you rather than speed. Rafayel watched you with an anguished look on his face, giving up holding his arms behind his head to push his fingers into your hair on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he moaned.
When he started thrusting shallowly into your mouth, you pulled away and kissed your way back up his body, pressing a long kiss to the area where your bond was now glowing beneath his skin. Rafayel’s hands remained in your hair the entire time, pulling you closer and closer to his face where his lips were parted and waited for yours.
As soon as your body was laid atop his again, he rolled you on your back, caging you in with his arms as your tongues met and parted over and over again, his hips rutting slowly against your weeping slit, sliding against your clit on each pass. He pulled back to position his cock against you, sliding in slowly, both of you moaning in satisfaction as you became one again. He pulled your legs up to hook over his hips, and your arms wrapped loosely over Rafayel’s shoulders, lips continuing to meet, moans caught in each other’s mouths as Rafayel slowly worked you both higher and higher.
When your orgasm finally took you, it was long and deep and you kissed Rafayel harder, even as his own hips pushed into you slightly harder as he came inside of you. He continued to thrust even after his orgasm ended, prolonging your own until you were whining into his lips and he stilled, staying seated inside of you. Kissing across your nose and cheeks, he rolled so you were splayed on his chest.
“Now sleep,” He whispered, his own eyes closed and breathing beginning to deepen. In the warm embrace of his body, his heartbeat fluttering against your cheek, you couldn’t help but follow him back into dreams.
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hauntedbysmut · 1 month ago
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“My wife.”
synopsis idea by: @starlitfool 🙏 “y'all remember when caleb had mc pretend to be his girlfriend back in college? i offer now to the caleb girlies council this consideration: mc pretending to be the colonel's wife at some farspace fleet gala/function/thing. thank u and goodnight”
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The gala was a spectacle of power and politics, a glittering battlefield where words were weapons and alliances were forged under the weight of duty. Officers and dignitaries wove through the crowd, their conversations laced with veiled threats and rehearsed charm. It was the kind of event Caleb had attended a thousand times before—where appearances mattered more than truth, where strength was measured not in victories but in perception.
But tonight, none of it mattered.
Because you were on his arm.
Draped in elegance, fitting so seamlessly into the role of his wife that it made something dark and possessive curl inside him, something that had never truly left since the first time he heard you call yourself his.
It had started as a necessity, a calculated move—the Colonel’s wife carried more weight than any civilian could, allowed access, turned heads, ensured questions wouldn’t be asked. But it wasn’t the first time.
Years ago, when you were both younger, when his obsession was still something new and raw and barely contained, he had pulled you into his orbit with a simple phrase—play along, sweetheart. You had been surrounded by vultures then too, leering eyes and unwanted attention, and Caleb had hated it. Hated the way they thought they could look at you, let alone speak to you.
So he had intervened.
Wrapped an arm around your waist. Let his gaze burn through anyone foolish enough to challenge his claim. Felt something primal settle deep in his bones when you leaned into him, trusting him to play the part.
But that was a lie, wasn’t it?
Because there was no acting when it came to you.
He had never truly stopped seeing you as his.
And tonight was no different.
His fingers pressed against the small of your back, just firm enough to remind you that he was there, that you belonged beside him. The men he spoke with were high-ranking, powerful in their own right, but none of them held his attention.
Not the way you did.
You shifted slightly, polite smile never faltering as you listened to the conversation, but he felt the way you tensed when someone’s gaze lingered too long.
His grip tightened.
A silent warning.
You exhaled softly, leaning the smallest fraction closer, and it nearly undid him.
He had fought in wars, survived battles that left others broken, but nothing—nothing—unraveled him the way you did.
“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, meant only for you.
You inhaled sharply.
He felt it against his skin, the way your body reacted before your mind could catch up. The way you stiffened—not in fear, but in awareness.
And Caleb lived for it.
The night stretched on, a blur of empty pleasantries and strategic conversation, but his focus never wavered. Every time someone so much as glanced in your direction, his hold on you tightened. Every time your gaze flicked to his, searching for something—reassurance? Permission?—he was already there, already watching, already owning the space between you.
By the time the gala ended, he had you pressed against his side, guiding you toward the exit with the same quiet authority he always carried. You let him, falling into step as if it were natural. As if this wasn’t temporary.
As if you were his.
The car was waiting, sleek and dark, windows tinted to keep the outside world from seeing what was his to protect. The door shut behind you, locking the two of you away in the silence of the night.
For the first few minutes, neither of you spoke.
Then—
You frowned slightly, glancing out the window.
“Caleb… this isn’t the ride to my apartment.”
His lips twitched. Not quite a smirk. Not quite not one either.
“I meant our home,” he murmured, voice slow, deliberate.
The words hung between you, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.
He watched the realization settle in, the way your body stiffened beside him, the way your breath hitched.
His gaze was already waiting when you turned to him, violet eyes gleaming in the dim interior.
And then—he leaned in.
Slowly.
A measured, predatory shift, invading your space without hesitation, letting his warmth, his presence, his ownership wrap around you entirely.
“You were my wife all night,” he murmured, voice deceptively soft. “You don’t want to stop now, do you?”
Your lips parted—whether to protest or to agree, he didn’t know. Didn’t care.
Because your body told him everything.
The way your pulse fluttered at your throat. The way your fingers curled against your lap, as if resisting the urge to reach for him. The way your breath caught when his hand—flesh this time, warm and possessive—tilted your chin just enough to keep you from looking anywhere but at him.
And then, quieter, more intimate—
“My wife wouldn’t leave me alone tonight.” A pause. A slow drag of his gaze down to your lips, then back up. “Would she?”
You swallowed hard.
And Caleb knew.
Knew that he had you again.
Just like before. Just like always.
But this time—
This time, he wouldn’t let you go.
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hauntedbysmut · 2 months ago
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Reblog if you're a perverted woman with dubious motives
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hauntedbysmut · 2 months ago
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sylus x "sweetheart"
He rolls over in the middle of the night, his arm reaching across the bed into empty, cool sheets. "Sweetheart?" He mumbles softly into the quiet room, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he half-raises his head off the pillow, searching the darkness for you with bleary focus. He hears the light flick on in the bathroom and his muscles relax as he snuggles back under the covers, trying hard to fight off sleep so he can welcome you back into his arms once you return to bed.
"Sweetheart..." he draws out each syllable playfully as he leans agains the front door with a bemused expression. a smirk playing across his lips as he watches your frantic movements. "We're gonna be late." You're scrambling around the foyer looking for your keys. He thinks to himself for a moment, and then his smirk deepens. "did you leave them in the lock again?" He lets out a soft chuckle as an embarrassed, knowing flush rises to your cheeks, already pulling open the door to check. sure enough— stuck straight in the lock. "You've really got to stop doing that."
You're walking down the busy sidewalk alone, tote bag over your shoulder as Sylus' voice echoes through your earbuds. "Hey, sweetheart. you look nice today." "Huh? I haven't even seen you today." "That's true. but I'm pretty sure I'm seeing you right now." You whirl around, searching the crowd, until you see the the familiar silhouette of a sleek black car slowly creeping down the street, matching your pace. Sylus rolls the window down, just enough for you to see the tops of his fingers as he gives a casual, flirtatious wave. a car honks in irritation behind him. He murmurs into the receiver. "You gonna make me hold up traffic like this much longer? This guy behind me's about to start seeing red."
"Sweetheart," he says in that husky low voice that makes you weak in the knees as he's pulling the strap of your nightdress down, inching it lower and lower on your shoulder as the movie plays in the background. His fingers are rough, his hands slightly calloused, but the motion of the touch itself is somehow silk-soft. "You're so warm," he whispers, his breath ghosting over the sharp ledge of your collarbone, fingers momentarily moving to trace its edge. "You sure you don't wanna keep watching?" You almost roll your eyes at the ridiculous question. "Fuck no, not when you're looking at me like that."
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hauntedbysmut · 2 months ago
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Hide and Surrender
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Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: A simple game of hide and seek turns way more intense than you thought it would.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?”
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, cunnilingus, predator play, predator x prey, hide and seek with roleplay, restraining, chasing, slightly rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, forced blowjob
AN: Another fic idea that wouldn't leave my head. Can't remember which Touring in Love chapter it was, but in it Sylus plays hide and seek with us. And I was like, yknow what would make this 100x better? Predator play :3
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"What would you like to play? I'll join you."
Those were the words that started it all.
You had half-expected Sylus to scoff at your suggestion, to find you childish for wanting to indulge in a game meant for children. But to your surprise, he agreed without hesitation, not even asking why. There was something in the way he said it, though—something that made your pulse quicken.
"You've played this before, right, Sylus?" you ask, covering your eyes with your hands to demonstrate. "You cover your eyes like this and count to ten. Then you come find me."
A moment of silence stretches between you, thick with something unspoken. Then, warm fingers wrap around your wrists, prying your hands gently away from your face. Your breath catches as you find yourself trapped beneath Sylus’ gaze—two crimson eyes watching you with something unreadable, something dangerous.
Those eyes—burning, searing, all-consuming—lock onto yours with something unreadable, something dangerous. It’s not just amusement or curiosity; it’s something deeper, something that snakes around your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. The way he looks at you is slow, patient, as if he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece, as if he’s already thought of a thousand ways this game will end.
You feel your heart hammering against your ribs, loud, deafening, a traitorous thing that gives away too much.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, as if studying you. The corners of his lips twitch—not quite a smile, but something just as unsettling.
"I didn’t have time or interest for such games when I was a child," he murmurs, his voice low, almost predatory. His lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, and the way he looms over you makes you feel smaller, caged. "But for you? I’ll learn quickly, kitten."
The pet name slithers through the air, coiling around you, sinking into your skin like a brand. A shiver ripples down your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving a molten trail in its wake. Heat pools deep in your underwear, an unwelcome warmth that you fight to ignore. Your throat goes dry, and you tear your gaze away, desperate to escape the weight of his stare. But it’s too late—he’s already seen it.
A low chuckle spills from his lips, rich and smooth, yet laced with something dark. Something knowing. The sound wraps around you, thick with amusement, but there’s something beneath it, something that burrows under your skin and makes your pulse falter in a way that has nothing to do with fear. It’s dangerous—not because of what it is, but because of how your body reacts to it.
Like a predator toying with its prey.
He lingers, close enough that the heat of him prickles against your skin, close enough that you can see the glint in his half-lidded eyes. Yet, just as your breath catches in your throat, just as the tension coils so tight it threatens to snap, he takes a step back. Barely. Not enough to be safe—never enough to be safe—but just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.
His head tilts slightly, gaze lazy, his voice dipping into something slow, syrupy, dangerously smooth.
"Go on, then."
The words are soft, but there’s no playfulness in them anymore. No lighthearted teasing. Only promise. A single word, unspoken but heavy in the air between you.
"Hide."
There’s definitely no playfulness in his voice now.
Your pulse roars in your ears as adrenaline surges through your veins. Fine. You weren’t going down easy. This was just a simple game of Hide and Seek—nothing more. You force yourself to ignore the way your stomach twists, how your breath feels too fast, too shallow. You're overthinking it. Sylus loves to tease you, to get under your skin, to watch you squirm. He loves making you flustered, and you know that. But still…there's something in the way his lips curled into a smirk before he turned around to count, something in his tone when he called out, that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
"One…two…three…"
The second his eyes leave you, you bolt. Your feet pound against the tile floor as you dash up the stairs, each step groaning under your weight. Your movements are clumsy, fueled by nothing but instinct. You wince at how loud you are, practically announcing your location, but at this point? Who cares. The only thing that matters is finding a place to hide before—
"Ten." His voice is slow, deliberate. You swear you hear amusement laced in it.
You don't stop running. You throw yourself into his room, nearly tripping over your own feet as you spin wildly, scanning the space for the perfect hiding spot. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, air burning in your lungs. The bed? No, too obvious. Under the desk? Not enough coverage.
Then, you hear it.
"Let's see where my little kitten decided to hide."
Your blood turns to ice.
Without thinking, you dive toward the closet, yanking the door open just enough to squeeze inside before gently—so gently—pulling it shut, leaving only the smallest crack to peek through. Darkness swallows you whole, the scent of Sylus’s cologne thick in the enclosed space, invading your senses. Your back presses against the wall, every inch of you wound so tightly that your muscles ache. Your breath comes in rapid, uneven pants, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence yourself.
Your heart pounds violently against your ribs, so loud it feels like it’s betraying you, threatening to give you away. You try to steady it, to slow your breaths, but every little sound—the creak of a floorboard, the soft click of a door opening—sends another jolt of panic surging through you.
Then, footsteps. Slow. Measured.
Getting closer.
You hear him before you see him.
The door creaks open, a slow, deliberate sound that cuts through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. The room seems to shrink, the air thickening as his presence fills the space. It’s not just the sound of his footsteps—it’s something deeper, something intangible, an unseen force that presses against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Your heart pounds in response, the steady thump-thump-thump filling your ears like a war drum. Even as fear coils in your stomach, there's an undeniable thrill laced within it, a rush of something you refuse to name.
Through the narrow crack in the closet door, you finally see him. Sylus moves with practiced ease, unhurried, precise, like a predator that knows its prey has nowhere to run. His crimson eyes flicker with something unreadable as they scan the room. He doesn’t fumble, doesn’t hesitate. There’s an unsettling certainty to his movements, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken.
His fingers trail lazily along the back of the couch before he crouches, peering beneath it. “Not under the couch, I see,” he muses, his voice smooth, almost casual. But there’s something beneath the words, something sharp, something laced with amusement, as if he already knows exactly where you are.
"Behind the curtains, maybe?" He doesn’t sound like he’s searching. He sounds like he’s toying with you.
He straightens, then shifts his focus to the glass windows, where the heavy curtains hang still. He moves toward them, fingertips grazing the fabric before he suddenly jerks them aside. You tense instinctively, though you know you aren’t there. He pauses, as if savoring the moment, before releasing the curtain and letting it drift back into place.
Your chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. Your lungs burn with the effort of staying quiet, of keeping still.
Then he turns, and your heart stutters violently in your chest as his gaze lands on the bed. No way he doesn’t already know where you are. No way his senses are that dull. You watch, frozen in place, as he slowly kneels, resting a hand against the mattress as he leans down to inspect the space beneath the frame. He hums softly. "Hmm...not under the bed either."
The moment he stands, you know. His next stop is the wardrobe.
A faint chuckle spills from his lips, low, knowing, as he starts toward you with slow, deliberate steps. Every cell in your body screams at you to move, but you remain paralyzed, pressed against the back of the closet as if you could somehow will yourself into the shadows. You can barely hear over the deafening thud of your heartbeat.
"Y’know, kitten," he drawls, his voice a lazy, syrupy purr that drips with something thick, something dangerous, "the sooner you come out, the gentler I’ll be with you."
Your breath catches violently in your throat. His voice alone sends a jolt through you, a sharp, involuntary response that leaves you feeling raw, exposed.
Then—he stops.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, before abruptly turning away. "Oh right, I almost forgot to check the living room."
This is your chance. Your only chance.
No time to think—just move!
Your body reacts before your mind catches up. With a burst of energy, you shove the closet door open and bolt. The sudden shift from stillness to motion is disorienting, but you don’t stop, don’t hesitate. Your feet slam against the floor as you propel yourself forward, the only thought in your mind being run.
You don’t dare look back.
But then—air shifts behind you.
A sharp inhale. A pivot of movement.
And then—footsteps. Fast. Closing in.
Panic surges through you, raw and electric, as you push yourself harder. Your legs burn, your lungs ache, but you don’t stop. You just have to make it downstairs. Just a little farther. Just a little—
A rush of air. A presence at your back.
And then—a hand. Wrapping around your wrist.
You scream, a sharp, startled sound that barely has time to leave your lips before Sylus yanks you back with a firm tug of your wrist. The sudden force sends you stumbling, crashing into his chest, your breath hitching as his arm snakes around your waist, keeping you locked in place. He’s warm, solid, unyielding, and far too close. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—invades your senses, making your already racing heart hammer harder.
“Found you, kitten,” he murmurs, amusement dripping from his tone. His lips curl into a smirk as he tilts his head slightly, eyes glowing with satisfaction. “I was starting to worry I lost you forever.”
The mockery in his voice is unmistakable, but inwardly, you’re grinning, nearly laughing. This was exactly what you wanted—a chase, a fight, a chance to push back. But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you put on your best scowl, defiance burning in your gaze.
"Your acting’s gotten worse," you spit, jerking against his hold. You bring your knee up sharply, aiming for his groin with all the force you can muster.
But he’s faster.
Before your knee can make contact, a thick tendril of red mist swirls around you, his Evol surging to life in an instant. The energy coils around your limbs like living chains, locking you in place just as he moves.
In the blink of an eye, he shifts, twisting effortlessly, using his grip on you to throw you onto the bed with little more than a flick of his wrist. The mattress dips beneath your weight, and before you can even think of scrambling away, he’s already on top, looming over you, his expression smug, too amused.
You lash out.
Your fist shoots toward his face, but he leans back smoothly, just enough for your knuckles to miss his jaw by mere inches. You shift, twisting your body, using the momentum to kick upward, aiming for his ribs. Again, he dodges—his body shifting effortlessly, as if he already knows exactly what you’re going to do before you do it.
“Tsk, tsk,” he hums, easily maneuvering around another wild swing from you. “You’re getting sloppy, kitten. I thought you were actually trying.”
You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You manage to free an arm from the tendrils of mist, and without hesitation, you try to land a punch to his shoulder. This time, he catches your wrist mid-air, his grip tightening just enough to still your movement.
“You bast—” You twist your hips sharply, using every ounce of strength to break free, but he barely even moves. If anything, he looks bored, like he’s humoring you.
Sylus chuckles, low and deep. “You really don’t know when to give up, do you?” His grip on your wrist shifts slightly before he suddenly pushes you down hard, making you gasp as your bodies gravity shifts, forced into submission once again.
You feel your pulse jump when his lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to something even smoother, even softer, but no less dangerous.
“And here I thought we were just playing.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists, his body pressing just close enough to remind you how little control you actually have in this moment. “I guess it’s my turn to get serious, hm?”
Your breath catches.
Something shifts in the air.
"S-Sylus, wait—" you gasp, your words catching in your throat as the sound of fabric tearing fills the room. In one swift motion, he's ripped your shorts apart, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air, the sudden chill a stark contrast to the heat still simmering between your thighs. Your underwear is the only thing left, a flimsy barrier between his intentions and your already soaked folds.
You start to protest, a mix of shock and anticipation swirling inside you, but the words die on your lips as Sylus shushes you softly, his voice a low, calming murmur. "Shh..." he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver racing up your spine.
"All that fighting, and yet you're soaked down here, kitten".
With deliberate slowness, he lowers his head between your thighs, the anticipation building as his lips hover just above the thin cloth. His tongue flicks out, tracing the outline of your folds through the fabric with agonizing precision. Each stroke is slow, torturous, a teasing promise of what's to come, and your protests dissolve into soft whimpers of need.
"An orgasm or two should get rid of that feistiness," he murmurs against you, his voice a rich, dark promise that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
Sylus's fingers deftly hook into the elastic of your panties, pulling the cloth aside with a practiced ease that leaves you exposed to him, vulnerable and aching. The cool air brushes against your skin for a fleeting moment before his mouth descends, and all coherent thought shatters as his tongue finds your aching cunt.
"Ah!"
The first touch is electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that arches your back off the bed, your hips lifting to meet him with a desperate need. His tongue works with a deliberate, maddening rhythm, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks that have you gasping for breath.
Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you hold him to you, guiding him closer even as your mind spins with the intensity of it all. He doesn't mind in the slightest, his low, satisfied hum sending vibrations through you, drawing a gasp from your lips.
"This—is c-cheating..." you manage to whine between ragged breaths, though your actions betray you as your hips move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth, seeking more of the pleasure he's so expertly giving.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?” he says, before continuing his assault on your clit. His words send your head spinning and you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe.
With a renewed dedication, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that leaves you trembling. The world dissolves around you, leaving nothing but the exquisite sensation of his mouth on you, driving you relentlessly toward the peak of ecstasy.
The sensation of his tongue slipping inside you leaves you reeling, each thrust a masterful stroke that has you feeling drunk on the sheer ecstasy he’s delivering. It’s a skill that seems almost divine, the way he knows exactly how to unravel you, how to make you moan and whine so uncontrollably that it borders on begging.
Your body responds helplessly, hips bucking against him as your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself in the storm of pleasure. His tongue moves with purpose, each flick and thrust pushing you closer to that precipice, until finally, he shifts his focus, sucking on your clit with a precision that sends you spiraling over the edge.
The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking, your cries echoing in the room as you ride out the waves of bliss. But even as you begin to descend from the high, you’re dismayed to find that Sylus isn’t stopping, his mouth still working you with relentless dedication.
“P-please...no more...” you plead, trying to twist away, your body oversensitive and overwhelmed. But he simply adjusts his grip, his hands firm on your waist, holding you in place with an easy strength that keeps you from escaping.
“Still a little feisty, hm?” he teases, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks up at you. “Like I thought. One more should do.” His words are a promise and a challenge, and as his mouth returns to its task, you know you’re helpless to resist the pull of his mastery, your body already surrendering to the inevitable wave building once more.
"Mgnh...ah..."
And just as promised, the fight within you starts to ebb away, like sand slipping through fingers, as Sylus's tongue continues its relentless, masterful assault. The pleasure builds higher to the point where it almost hurts, a crescendo that leaves you breathless and trembling, unable to do anything but call out his name, your voice breaking as your body jerks and shakes under his skilled touch.
"Sylus!"
The second orgasm crashes over you, pulling you under its tide, leaving you riding the waves of ecstasy until you finally collapse, utterly spent, like a boneless heap of jello. Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, tears of overstimulation gathering at the corners of your eyes, evidence of the intensity that just ripped through you.
Sylus leans back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. He studies you with a mixture of amusement and triumph, taking in your ragdoll form sprawled before him. "Going to try and fight me again?" he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.
You manage a weak shake of your head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your own lips, despite the exhaustion. Damn this slick bastard and his godly tongue, you think, a mixture of exasperation and admiration swirling within you.
"Good, just how I like you," he murmurs, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver through your already sensitive body. His hands move to his belt, fingers working with deliberate slowness to undo it, each click of the metal buckle a promise of what's to come. "Seems you're ready for the last phase of our game," he declares, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with a hunger that promises there's much more yet to be explored.
You lay there, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure he had delivered, your eyes heavy-lidded, your breath coming in short gasps. Sylus, ever attentive, noticed your gaze drifting downward, a mix of anticipation and desire in your eyes as you took in the hard and prominent bulge in his pants.
Your cheeks flushed as you realized the effect you had on him, his hard length straining and throbbing against the fabric of his pants, a testament to the pent-up desire that had been building throughout your little "game." He had only eaten you out and yet his cock seemed like it was about to burst and break the zipper.
Sylus finishes undoing his belt, the soft clinking of the metal a rhythmic counterpoint to your pounding heartbeat. The anticipation is electric, a live wire thrumming between you as his pants finally fall away, revealing the impressive length of him. Even after all the times you’ve had each other, his size never fails to elicit a sense of awe.
Your eyes widened as Sylus, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, moved closer, his hard length throbbing in front of your mouth. You shook your head, a silent refusal, playing hard to get, but he was having none of it. With a swift motion, he cupped your chin, tilting your head back and guiding his throbbing cock towards your mouth.
"Open up, sweetie," he whispered, his voice a low command. "Good little prey does as they're told."
Your heart raced as you felt the heat of his cock against your lips, his hands firm on your head, guiding you to take him in. You strained for control, but his grip tightened, and with a gentle yet insistent pressure, he pushed his length past your lips, filling your mouth with his hardness.
You gagged slightly, your eyes watering, but he held you firmly in place, his cock sliding deeper, his hands holding your face still, ensuring you took him all the way down your throat.
"Good girl," he moaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Breathe through your nose, kitten."
You did as he commanded, your mouth working around his length, your tongue swirling, your throat constricting around him, the sensation of his hardness and the taste of him overwhelming your senses. He began to thrust gently, his hips moving in a slow, controlled rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, his moans filling the room.
"That's it," he whispered, his breath ragged. "Take all of me, claim me as I'll claim you."
His words sent a thrill through you, and you redoubled your efforts, your mouth and throat working in unison, your hands gripping his thighs as he used your mouth for his pleasure. But just as you thought he would climax, he pulled out, his cock glistening with your saliva.
"Not yet," he said, his voice hoarse. "I won't miss the chance to claim my freshly caught prey with my seed."
He catches the wide look in your eyes and grins again, a wicked gleam lighting up his features as he moves closer, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. The head of his cock teases your entrance, brushing against your slick folds with a touch so light it sends a tremor of anticipation through you.
"Stay still." he murmurs, his voice a low purr that vibrates against your skin. You nod, breathless, as he begins to push forward, the slow, steady pressure parting your folds and stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is both exquisite and overwhelming, a delicious burn that leaves you gasping, feeling impossibly full as he sinks deeper inside you. You unknowingly tense up, and Sylus pauses.
Sylus's voice, low and soothing, filled the room as he slightly broke from his rough and demeaning role. His hands gently caressing your hips, his body still poised at your entrance. "Might as well relax" he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. "You have no choice but to take it anyways, kitten".
His words, spoken with tenderness and experience, were a balm to your nerves. You recognize this as his way of checking in and reminding you to relax without fully breaking the mood. He began to move with slow, gentle thrusts, his length sliding into you with deliberate slowness, allowing your body time to accommodate his size. "That's it, squeeze around me," he encouraged, his lips brushing your ear. "Feel me filling you, stretching you, making you whole."
The pain began to subside, replaced by a building pleasure as your body accepted his intrusion, the discomfort transforming into a unique blend of sensations. You moaned, a mix of relief and arousal, as he continued his slow, steady rhythm, his body moving in sync with yours, his hands guiding you through the waves of pleasure and discomfort, until the pain was a distant memory, and all that remained was the exquisite sensation of being filled by his hard length.
Your fingers curl into the bedsheets, clutching them for support as he begins to move again, each thrust firm and unrelenting, setting a rhythm that has you moaning helplessly beneath him. The friction is intoxicating, the sound of skin against skin mingling with your cries as you arch into him, your body alight with pleasure.
Sylus's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he thrust into you, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so fucking wet," he growled, his words a testament to the pleasure you were providing. His hips moved in a relentless rhythm, his powerful strokes driving into your core with a force that left you breathless, your body trembling with each impact.
As the pleasure mounted within you, swelling like a storm threatening to break, Sylus transformed his movements into a slow, torturous dance. Each thrust was languid and deliberate, a teasing rhythm that played your body like a finely tuned instrument. You were on the brink, right at the precipice, but he held you there, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly far from the release you craved.
"Please, Sylus..." you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea, raw with need. "I need to...I need to finish..."
He leaned in, his breath a scorching whisper against your ear, his lips brushing your skin with feather-light caresses. "I'll let you cum, my love, if you tell me who won."
This bastard. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy.
The challenge in his words sent a shiver racing through you, a heady mix of excitement and frustration. You yearned for the release, but admitting his victory felt like a concession too steep. "Fuck you" you spat, your voice caught between resistance and the relentless pull of longing.
Sylus's pace slowed further, each thrust a deliberate tease, his body a contradiction of slow, sensual movements and the raw, simmering desire you could feel pulsing in every inch of him. "Mmm, not quite the answer I'm looking for. Tell me, sweetie," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sending tingling sensations along your skin. "Who won this little game?"
Your body trembled beneath him, caught in the crossfire of need and stubbornness. The sweet torture was a dance of agony and ecstasy, and it was almost too much to bear and you snapped. "You w-won," you finally admitted, the words spilling from your lips like a confession, tearing free as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered, your body arching toward him in a silent plea. "Please...let me cum!"
"That's my good girl," he growled, his voice a low, primal rumble that resonated through your very core. "Now, cum for me."
His pace shifted, each thrust gaining force and urgency, driving deep and hard, a relentless rhythm that pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around him, muscles tightening in a wave of release, the climax ripping through you with a sweet, shuddering ferocity that left you breathless and utterly spent. In that moment, the world dissolved, leaving only the blissful aftermath of his mastery, the sweet torture finally giving way to a bliss that wrapped around you like a warm, comforting embrace.
As your body shudders around him, gripping him with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Sylus's thrusts grow more frantic, driven by his own approaching climax. The room fills with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
His movements become erratic, each thrust deeper and more urgent, as if he's chasing the very edge of his own orgasm. You can feel the heat building within him, a primal energy that seeks release, and you arch into him, encouraging him to finish inside you.
With a final, powerful thrust, Sylus groans deeply, his body tensing above you as he finds his own release. You feel the hot rush of his climax inside you, a flood of warmth that fills you completely, making you feel full. His body shudders, muscles taut, as he pours himself into you, the sensation a sweet, intimate mingling of pleasure and finality.
Sylus, his breath ragged, withdrew from your body with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent understanding passing between you. He laid down beside you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, his hand gently caressing your sweat-slicked skin, his touch tender and possessive. He peppered kisses on your lips, cheek, forehead and neck before settling next to you.
Both of you lay across the bed, chests rising and falling in sync, the aftermath of your "struggle" leaving a lingering heat in the air. The sheets are a mess beneath you, tangled from the chaos of it all. Your limbs feel heavy, aching from exertion, but there’s still a stubborn pout on your lips as you turn your head to glare at Sylus.
“Not fair!” you huff, breath still uneven. “I should’ve known you’d pull your dirty tricks…You owe me a new pair of shorts, by the way.”
He merely chuckles, the sound deep and rich, and before you can react, he shifts, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you flush against his side. His warmth seeps into your skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing despite everything. He squeezes you playfully, pressing his face against your hair as his laughter rumbles through his body.
“I could buy you a hundred new shorts if you wanted,” he murmurs, his tone amused.
You roll your eyes, but you don’t fight his hold. Instead, you melt into him, letting your body relax as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His scent is familiar now, something dark and warm, laced with a hint of something uniquely him. It’s comforting, even if you’d never admit it out loud.
For a moment, there’s peace. Just the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips.
Then, his voice, soft but teasing.
“I definitely wouldn't mind a second or third round if it ends like this every time. What do you say?” he says, his breath hot against your ear.
Your breath catches, and you pull back just enough to look at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The way his smirk deepens tells you everything you need to know.
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hauntedbysmut · 2 months ago
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#OH GOD BREEDER SYLUS
NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!
Cw afab reader, breeding, impregnation kink, manhandling, belly bulge from cock ♡
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Sylus takes you apart on his cock like a man playing an instrument. He knows all your tells, all your signs, all your spots like it's the back of his hand. Has spent hours on his hands and knees familiarizing himself with your body— using his hands and his mouth and his cock to see what has you fracturing for him in the most beautiful way possible.
With your legs on his shoulders, ankles hanging limply over his back and locked behind his neck, it certainly feels like this man was put on this earth for the sole purpose of taking you apart at the seams and putting you back together with each thrust and each kiss. His hands are broad and rough on your skin, borderline greedy as they dig into your hips, dragging your pliant body into each of his thrusts. He plays you like you're a doll, manhandling and moving your body to his whim, making your eyes roll each time his hips slap against yours.
You're so lost in the pleasure that he grants you that you hardly realize it when Sylus removes one of his hands from your waist, pressing it instead against your lower tummy, and pressing down slightly like he's trying to feel something, and you whimper.
His breaths are coming out in ragged pants, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes are glued to where his hand rests. He's so deep inside you— so deep, so hard, so thick that you're damn near losing your mind. You gasp when you feel his cock twitch, and groan against the hungry kiss that he presses against your lips.
“Here,” he grunts, lips brushing against your, eyes unfocused from the pleasure and sweat dripping from his brow. You swear that, in the low light of his bedroom, his crimson eyes glow with an unshakable hunger. Unshakable desire.
"W-what?" is all you can manage to gasp, barely able to cling to coherency with how he stretches you out on his girthy length. His hand insistently presses against your lower stomach again, and you squeal as he groans. He can feel himself under your skin, feel himself stretching you out just for him. "What do you—"
“This is where my baby is going to go." His voice is little more than a growl, now. Sylus' eyes meet yours— crimson pools, swirling with love, lust, and a promise. "This is where it’s gonna be when I fuck it into you, sweetie.”
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