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rafayelxsylusho · 17 hours ago

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How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 3

We still had some time to vote but I think my man is going to win this one.

Enjoy!

TW:Smut

Part 1 (Xavier)

Part 2 (Caleb)

Vote for the next LI at the end of the story ❤️

As you settle into the plush comfort of Sylus' bed, your fingers dance across the screen of your phone, pulling up the controversial book that had been the talk of the office. The one your female coworkers had gushed over in hushed whispers, their cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming with a sparkle. You had to know what all the fuss was about.

As you delve deeper into the digital pages, your eyebrows arch higher with each passing paragraph. The book is even more explicit than you'd been led to believe, the author leaving very little to the imagination. You find yourself squirming slightly on the luxurious bed linens, a warmth taking over your cheeks that has nothing to do with the crackling fireplace nearby.

When you reach chapter ten, the scene unfolding before your eyes is downright scandalous. The protagonist and her lover are locked in the throes of ecstasy atop a roaring motorcycle. The vivid detail and raw, primal nature of their fucking is intense, the author paints a picture so vivid it's almost impossible not to feel the heat of the moment yourself.

As the scene unfolds in vivid detail on your phone screen, a familiar but not unwelcome heat begins to pool low in your belly. The author's graphic descriptions of the lovers' frenzied passion ignites something within you. Before long, you find yourself squirming on the bed, thighs clenching together as a tingling ache builds between them.

Your mind starts to wander, the fictional couple's encounter blurring with memories of your own encounters with Sylus. You picture his strong hands roaming over your curves, his kisses trailing down your neck and chest. In your mind, you replace the faceless man on the motorcycle with Sylus himself.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, your hand drifts down to the waistband of your pajamas, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against the slick folds of your pussy.

You know you shouldn't be doing this, but the ache between your legs demands satisfaction. Lost in the lusty fantasy you touch yourself, your own touch a poor imitation of the passionate lovemaking in the book.

Your moans fill the spacious bedroom and you drop your phone onto the plush bedsheets, the device still open to the obscene motorcycle scene that sparked your desire. Your fingers dance over your folds, stroking your sensitive clit with increasing urgency as you picture Sylus pinning you beneath him on his own roaring motorcycle.

Two fingers plunge deep inside your core, pumping furiously as you imagine Sylus pounding into you, his powerful hips driving forward with relentless, hungry need. The sound of your breathing mingles with the imagined roar of the motorcycle engine, spurring you on as you chase your rapidly building climax.

Your fingers pump faster, plunging deeper, as you picture Sylus reaching up to secure his sleek black helmet over his head. The dark visor doesn't completely obscure his eyes and you can feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you. He leans in close, his hot breath fogging up the inside of the helmet as he growls, "Hold on tight, kitten. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name."

With a cry of ecstasy, you come undone, your walls clenching rhythmically around your plunging fingers as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your body writhes on the bed, the silken sheets tangled around you as you ride out the aftershocks of your climax.

Panting softly, you slowly come back to yourself, a satisfied grin playing about your lips. The ache between your thighs temporarily sated. The phone screen glows, the motorcycle scene frozen in time, a testament to the sinful fantasy that brought you to such a state.

You close your eyes, the events of the day, the provocative novel, and your fantasy of Sylus fade into the background as you surrender to the pull of exhaustion. Your breathing evens out, falling into a soft, steady rhythm as you curl up beneath the plush blankets of Sylus' bed, completely at peace.

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You stir from your sleep, the beep of the alarm clock piercing through the silence of the bedroom. As you blink you become acutely aware of a firm, warm body pressed against your back. A muscular arm is draped over your waist, holding you close to a broad, bare chest that rises and falls with each soft, steady breath. Glancing over your shoulder, you find yourself face to face with Sylus.

You remain still, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep, and take a moment to appreciate his devastating good looks. The grayish white hair, usually so perfectly styled, is now slightly disheveled. His brows, normally arched in a state of contemplation or challenge, are now smooth and undisturbed. Even in sleep, there's a raw, masculine beauty to Sylus that sets your heart racing.

As you study him, you can't help but remember the vivid, intimate fantasy that played out in your mind the night before. The way his strong hands gripped your hips as he took you hard and fast on his motorcycle. You feel a fresh wave of heat pool between your thighs at the recollection.

Suddenly, Sylus stirs, his hold on your waist tightening. His voice, low and gravelly from sleep, rumbles in your ear. "Morning, kitten," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Sleep well?"

You press a quick, chaste kiss to Sylus' lips, feeling the ghost of your intense fantasy linger in the fleeting touch. A rosy blush stains your cheeks as you pull away.

"Mm, yes, I did," you reply softly, slipping out of his embrace and rising from the bed, the cool air of the bedroom kisses your skin. As you gather your belongings and begin to ready yourself for work, you can't help but sneak glances at Sylus as he stirs and stretches like a panther. The sheets pool around his waist, revealing his toned torso and the tantalizing V that disappears beneath the fabric. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, and quickly avert your gaze.

"Well, I should get going," you say, slipping into your shirt and buttoning it up with trembling fingers. "Can't be late for my shift today, I have an important meeting with Jenna"

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Sylus' intense gaze following your every move. You take a deep breath and turn to face him, your blush still evident on your cheeks. "I'll... I'll see you later, Sy" you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You turn to leave and are almost out his bedroom door when you hear him call you.

"Miss hunter"

You freeze mid-step and slowly turn to face him, your eyes widening as you follow the direction of his pointed finger.

You hurry over to the bedside table, snatching up your phone and clutching it to your chest like a guilty secret.

As you turn to make your escape, Sylus' deep, smooth voice stops you in your tracks once more. "Pick you up after work," he states. It's phrased as a question, but the steel in his tone makes it clear that he expects an affirmative answer.

"I... yes, alright," you manage to stammer out. "After work." You can feel Sylus' gaze burning into your back as you hurry towards the bedroom door once again, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

As you step out into the hallway, you can't shake the feeling that Sylus knows exactly what you got up to last night. The way he looked at you, the knowing glint in his eyes. You shake your head, trying to erase the unsettling thought, and fasten your steps towards the front door.

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You step out of the Hunters Association building, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing Sylus again. As you round the corner, your eyes fall upon the very object that had dominated your lustful fantasy the night before, Sylus' sleek, black motorcycle.

And there he stands, leaning casually against the seat with one muscular thigh crossed over the other. He looks every inch the dangerous, alluring man you know him to be. His leather jacket and pants hug his powerful frame.

As if sensing your presence, Sylus turns his head, piercing crimson eyes locking onto yours. A slow, sensual smile spreads across his face, and he straightens up, taking a step towards you. "Ready to go, kitten?"

You nod, your voice catching slightly in your throat as you reply, "Yes, I'm ready." You reach for your helmet, your fingers brushing against the smooth, glossy surface. However, before you can secure it on your head, Sylus' large, warm hands enclose your own, stilling your movements.

He steps closer, his chest nearly grazing your breasts as he leans in, his helmet tucked under one muscular arm. His eyes bore into yours, a glimmer of something dark and hungry flickering in their depths. "Before you do," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, "would you like to use my visor to apply your lipstick, just like you did the other day?"

The memories of that day come rushing back, the way you had applied your lipstick using his visor as a mirror, your fingers trembling slightly as you did so. The way he had looked at you, his eyes burning into yours, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak.

The vivid fantasies that played out in your mind last night flash before your eyes, and you know you can't bring yourself to do it this time. Shaking your head, you take a step back, putting a little distance between your body and Sylus. "No, not this time," you murmur, your cheeks flushing hotly at the admission. You can't help but glance at the helmet tucked under his arm. "I'd rather not," you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet Sylus' intense gaze. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if Sylus can sense the forbidden thoughts swirling in your mind. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from him.

Releasing your hands, you reach up and quickly secure your helmet on your head, the plastic shell a barrier between you and Sylus' knowing eyes. The visor fogs up slightly as you take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "We should get going.

Sylus smirks, the expression turning wicked as he watches you squirm under his gaze. He knows, there's no doubt about it. Somehow, some way, he discovered your open phone and read the steamy scene that had left you so hot and bothered. A thrill of excitement and nerves runs through you as Sylus settles his own helmet over his head, the sleek black visor hiding his expression but not the predatory gleam in his eyes. He knows, and now he's playing with you, toying with the knowledge of your secret desire.

A fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as you watch Sylus swing his leg over the motorcycle seat. With a newfound determination, you hitch up your skirt slightly and swing your own leg over the bike, settling yourself behind Sylus.

A slow smile spreads across your face beneath your helmet as you wrap your arms around his waist, your hands splaying over the firm expanse of his abdomen. Two can play this game, you think to yourself, a sense of anticipation coiling in your belly. Sylus may have discovered your secret, but he doesn't know the full extent of the hunger that consumes you.

As the darkness grows and the city lights start to twinkle to life, a sudden boldness takes hold of you. Without warning, you slide your hands lower, your fingers teasing along the waistband of Sylus' leather pants. You feel the firm, muscular flesh beneath the leather, the heat of his skin seeping through the material. Your touch is light, almost feather like, but purposeful in its intent.

His body tenses beneath your wandering hands, and you feel the motorcycle wobble slightly as he tightens his grip on the handlebars. The knowledge that your touch affects him, that you can unsettle the usually unflappable man, sends a thrill of power rushing through you.

Spurred on by this sense of control, you allow your hands to dip lower, your fingers playing with the button of his pants. You trace the line of the zipper, feeling the hard bulge that begins to form beneath your touch. The knowledge that you can arouse him so easily, that your desire for him is reciprocated, makes your head spin with excitement.

Your breath grows shallow, fogging up the interior of your helmet as your hands continue their exploration. The motorcycle rumbles on beneath you, the vibrations adding to the building heat between your thighs. You're playing with fire, but you can't bring yourself to care. You want to burn, to consume Sylus with the same desperate hunger that had you coming undone in his bed.

"How much longer until we get home Sy?"

"Not much longer now, kitten. Just a few more miles to go." The motorcycle speeds up slightly, the wind whipping around you as you race through the darkening streets.

But you are not able to stop yourself and you reach down and slowly unzip his leather pants, the metal teeth parting ways to reveal the straining bulge beneath.

"Y/N" a note of warning laced into the command. But you ignore him, your fingers already delving inside to cup the hard, hot length of him through the fabric of his underwear.

The motorcycle surges forward with a roar, Sylus apparently as eager to get home as you are. The speedometer needle sweeps past the legal limit, the city lights become a stream of glowing lines.

As the motorcycle rolls to a stop at the red light, you waste no time in freeing Sylus from the confines of his underwear. Your fingers dip inside, wrapping around the hot, throbbing length of him, pulling him out into the cool night air. Sylus inhales sharply, his hips jerking slightly as your hand closes around his flesh.

Before the light can change, you're already working on him, your palm pressing his hard cock against the firm plane of his abdomen. Slowly, torturously, you run your thumb over the sensitive head, circling the tip in maddeningly gentle strokes. You keep your touch light, mindful of the delicate skin.

"Kitten" he grits out as the light turns green, and the motorcycle lurches forward again.

“Keep your eyes on the road Sylus, I don’t want us to crash.”

His grip tightens on the handlebars, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road ahead. "Fuck, Y/N," he grits out through clenched teeth, the curse echoing in the confines of the helmet. "Keep this up and we'll end up in a ditch."

You can feel the bead of precum forming at the tip of his cock, the slick fluid allowing your fingers to glide more easily over the swollen head. You take full advantage, rolling and kneading the sensitive flesh between your fingertips until Sylus is gritting out a low groan.

You smear the precum over your fingers, using it as lubricant as you drag your hand slowly down the thick shaft. You can feel it throb against your palm, Sylus' body responding eagerly to your touch. The motorcycle swerves slightly as Sylus struggles to maintain control, his hips rocking involuntarily into your stroking hand.

As he brings the motorcycle to a halt, you glance around, realizing that you're not parked outside his home. Instead, he's stopped in a secluded, isolated spot on the outskirts of the city. A single lamp post flickers weakly, casting a circle of light that illuminates the deserted parking lot. Beyond that, the only light comes from the pale glow of the moon

You're about to ask Sylus where he's brought you when you feel his hand closing around your wrist. In the dim light, you can see the intense, almost feral look in his eyes as he turns to face you.

"Sylus, where are we?" you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice. The air feels charged with tension, the night pressing in around you, isolating you from the rest of the world.

Sylus doesn't answer right away. Instead, he leans in close and he murmurs, "Somewhere private, where I can finish what you started without any interruptions."

You know you've pushed Sylus to the brink, teased him until he's teetering on the edge of control. And now, in this secluded spot, he's going to make you pay for it.

Sylus pulls back slightly, his hands moving to the straps of your helmet. With deft fingers, he unbuckles it and lifts it off your head, tossing it carelessly to the ground.

"Get off the bike, Y/N," Sylus commands, his voice a low, husky rumble that makes your toes curl in your boots. "Now."

You find yourself moving on autopilot, Sylus watches intently as you swing your leg over the bike seat, the moonlight casting a silver glow across your skin. The moment your feet touch the ground, he's off the motorcycle too, moving with a predatory grace that makes your heart race. He takes a step towards you, then another, until he's standing before you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

His hands come up to grip your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you against him. You can feel every hard plane and angle of his body, the evidence of his desire, an unmistakable bulge pressing against your belly.

"Did you think teasing me like that would go unpunished? I'm going to make you pay for every inch of skin you touched, for every moan I had to swallow as I tried to keep this bike on the road."

"I won't be able to eat your sweet little cunt like I want to while you sit on my bike, kitten. Not with my helmet on." His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his erection against you. "But don't worry, I'll leave that pleasure for another day. Tonight, I need to be inside you, now."

With that promise, Sylus spins you around and bends you over the motorcycle seat, your breasts pressing against the leather. He kicks your legs apart, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Then he hikes up your skirt, exposing you to the cool night air.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, the fabric stretching taut for a moment before giving way. He drags them down slowly, the cool air kissing your heated skin as he bares you completely.

"Lift your feet," Sylus orders, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. You comply, lifting one foot and then the other, allowing him to remove your underwear entirely. He balls up the delicate lace, tucking them into his back pocket as a trophy of sorts.

With your most intimate place now exposed, Sylus leans down, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You can feel the thick, hard length of him pressing insistently against your ass. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for his touch, for the feel of him inside you.

He slides his bare cock against your folds, the thick head catching on your clit with each pass. Sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine, your back arching as you press back against him instinctively. The wet sound of his shaft gliding through your arousal fills the air, a melody that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, you're so wet, kitten," he growls, his voice rough with lust. "So ready for my cock."

You can feel it in the desperate, erratic way he grinds against you, in the harsh, ragged sound of his breathing. It's a battle of wills, a contest to see who will break first. And as Sylus' cock catches on your clit once more, sending a bolt of electric pleasure rocketing through you, you know it won't be long before one of you snaps. The tension is unbearable, the need for release a physical ache that demands satisfaction.

"Fuck, Sylus!" you cry out, unable to hold back any longer. As you feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently at your entrance, you make your choice. Reaching back, you grab his hips and yank him forward, impaling yourself on his shaft with a desperate scream that echoes through the empty parking lot as Sylus' thick cock stretches your tight walls in one brutal, glorious thrust. The sudden intrusion is a shock of pain and pleasure, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.

"Oh god, you're so fucking big," you keen, your hips buck back against him, desperate for more, always craving that sweet spot where pleasure blurs with pain.

He doesn't give you time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace from the start. The motorcycle rocks beneath you with each powerful thrust, the metal creaking in protest at the force of Sylus' movements. You're pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but take his punishing thrusts as he fucks into you.

You're teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight and ready to shatter. The pleasure is cresting, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock as he drives into you with wild, desperate abandon. You're so close, your climax just within reach, when suddenly Sylus curses under his breath.

"Fuck!" he snarls, his voice rough and ragged. Before you can react, he's pulling out of you abruptly, the sudden emptiness a shock to your overstimulated body.

You cry out, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the motorcycle seat as you feel the cool night air hitting your swollen folds. "Fuck, Sylus!" you wail, your voice a mix of frustration and desperate need. "Don't stop now!"

He's panting harshly, his chest heaving as he fights for control.

"Dammit," he growls, "You feel too fucking good. I'm not going to last if you keep taking my cock like that"

You watch as Sylus sits back on the motorcycle seat, facing the back of his bike, his eyes shining with dark promise as he meets your pleading gaze. With a smirk, he pats his thighs invitingly.

"Climb up here, kitten," he commands "Fuck yourself on my cock until you scream. I want to watch you come apart on my dick.

He grips the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly as he waits for you to obey. The thick length is slick with your juices, the swollen head an angry red and leaking steadily. The sight makes your mouth water, your body screaming at you to take what you need.

You swing a leg over the motorcycle seat, straddling his hips, the thick ridge of his cock nestling against your dripping slit. With a shaky breath, you reach down and grasp his shaft, positioning him at your entrance. His hands find your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you down. You sink onto his thick length with a low moan, your head falling back as he stretches you wide.

"Fuck, just like that," Sylus grunts, his fingers digging into your hips as he guides you into a steady rhythm.

You start to move, lifting yourself up until just the tip remains inside, before slamming back down. The helmet catches your gaze, the sleek black surface reflecting your flushed face and as you fuck yourself on his cock, you keep your eyes locked on the helmet, the fantasy you've imagined playing out before you.

As you feel your movements start to slow, your thighs trembling with exertion, Sylus takes control. He grips your wrists firmly, pushing your hands to the back of the motorcycle seat. "Hold on tight, sweetie," his voice a low, intense rumble. "Because I'm going to fuck you now."

Then, with a powerful thrust of his hips, he's slamming up into you, burying his cock deep inside you.

"Oh god!" you cry out, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the leather seat. The helmet blurs before your vision as Sylus pounds into you, the force of his thrusts rocking the motorcycle beneath you. He sets a brutal pace, each powerful drive of his hips forcing the air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. The we sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the night air, mingling with the creaking of the motorcycle and your wanton moans.

"Fuck," Sylus snarls, his breath coming in harsh pants fogging the inside of his helmet "You feel and look so fucking good. So perfect around my cock."

His hand tangles in your hair, gripping it tightly forcing you to maintain eye contact with him through the helmet as he fucks you.

Suddenly he changes the angle of his hips, tilting them up as he slams into you, the thick ridge of his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit with each thrust. Sparks of electric pleasure shoot through you, making your back arch and your toes curl.

"Oh fuck, Sylus!" you scream, "Right there! Don't stop!"

Your nails dig into the leather seat, gripping it for dear life as Sylus pounds into your g-spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, your body shaking and trembling with the force of your impending climax.

As the pleasure crests to an unbearable peak, you force your eyes open. Through the visor of his helmet, you meet Sylus' gaze, and what you see steals your breath away.

His crimson eyes are locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. In that moment, you see a man utterly consumed by desire, a man who would move heaven and earth to claim you, to possess you completely. It's a look of pure worship. A believer seeing his god, his reason for living. Sylus is lost in you, lost in the feel of your tight heat gripping his shaft, lost in the way your body responds so perfectly to his touch.

Your body seizes, your back arching as your orgasm crashes over you.

"Sylus!" you scream, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as your climax tears through you. Your walls spasm and clench around him as you come harder than you ever have before.

His eyes widen as he feels your walls clamp down around him, "Fuuuuuck!" Sylus screams, his voice echoing through the night as he erupts within you. His hot, thick seed floods your insides, painting your walls with his essence as he grinds against your cervix. You feel each twitch and throb of his cock as he empties himself inside you, your body shaking with the force of your mutual climax.

You both collapse against each other, chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Sylus' arms wrap around you, holding you close.

After a long moment, Sylus lifts his head, his crimson eyes finding yours through the visor once more. "Was that everything you imagined it would be, kitten?" Sylus asks, his voice a low, sensual purr. "Riding my cock on the back of my bike, fucking yourself stupid?" He reaches up, his finger tracing along your jawline before tilting your chin up "Because I can assure you that for me it was even better than I could have possibly imagined."

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound in his chest as he watches you laugh. He reaches up and unclasps his helmet, pulling it off to reveal his handsome face, flushed and gorgeous in the moonlight. Leaning in, you press a soft, quick kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him.

"Let's go home Sy, I still have a few ideas"

Sylus grins as he pulls out of you and helps you off the bike, his hands lingering on your curves. "Next time you go to a bookstore make sure to pick out the nastiest, most depraved books you can find. Spare no expense, kitten. It's my treat."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his eyes glinting with mischief and dark promise. "I want to know all about the filthiest things you imagine us doing together, before acting them out in ways that will make those authors blush."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And maybe, if you're a good girl, I'll even let you read them to me while I worship your body, Would you like that, baby?"

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, one eyebrow cocked expectantly as he waits for your laughter to fill the crisp night air once more. The way his eyes shine makes it clear that he's already imagining all the deliciously depraved things he wants to do to you, inspired by the pages of those naughty books.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lads smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #lads x you #lnds x you #love and deepspace reader #l&ds sylus #sylus smut #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lads men

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venusdews · 2 days ago

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ride or die

sylus [秦彻] + female reader

synopsis. you're a simple girl: you see your boyfriend win a street race, it makes you want to jump his bones.

genre. 18+! MDNI! street racer!sylus, smut, pwp, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation, reader is a cowgirl yeehaw!, sweat, quickie in a car, biting, dirty talk, jealousy, established relationship. (i don't know anything about cars so excuse my bsing lol) wc; 1.5k

author's note. your honor, i plead the fifth. you read the tags... this is pure filth. nasty, disgusting self indulgence. enjoyyyyyy <3

Tucked away on the outskirts of Linkon, where the stars shine brighter, there’s a hum of engines.

The night is electric, the excited whispers of bystanders mixing with the crackle of the bonfire that was burning brightly. Its smoke served as a signal to those who wished to find a distraction from the sleeping city. There’s a remnant of heat from the summer sun, though it’s been long since it dipped into the horizon.

Everyone’s attention was pointed towards the two brightly painted vehicles in the middle of the crowd. The red and yellow colors reflect the fire burning behind.

You stood in between them, watching the red sports car intensely. Though the windows are tinted too dark for you to see through, it’s impossible to ignore the feeling that you’re being watched.

With a kittenish smile, you lift the flag in your right hand, pausing for a moment before it comes back down.

Before you can even blink, the two cars speed past you, leaving nothing but the smell of fumes behind.

Without hesitation, you turn, barely catching your boyfriend’s car disappearing down the road. The cacophony of cheering is overwhelming. There are worried looks and nail biting as the possibility of losing a bet weighed heavy on people’s minds.

But, you, you were anything but worried.

All your money was on Sylus.

And it’s not long before the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s muffler comes back into earshot. He stops abruptly, past the finish line.

Not even close.

The crowd rushes past you, wanting to congratulate the tall figure emerging from the car. A few straggle behind, frustration evident on their face as they watch the other racer arrive.

They really should have known better.

You drop the flag you’re still holding, pushing past the crowd ready to run your victor’s arms, until you see the group of girls gathering around him.

Girls who were arching their backs a little too hard, tugging their already low-cut tops even lower, batting their eyelashes.

And although you were used to the attention Sylus got from women, tonight it made your hands clench into fists. Your eyes twitch, scowl scrunching your features.

Maybe it was something in the air tonight, because you march up to him, all but shoving the girls away from him and ignoring their dirty looks.

Sylus, who had already spotted you through the crowd, drops his tense shoulders as you stop in front of him.

“Hey– mmph!”

You plant your lips onto his, not waiting for him to react before slipping your tongue into his mouth. His surprise does not linger as he reciprocates with ease, hand coming up to the small of your back to push you further into him.

As your tongues clash passionately, the girls gawk at you before leaving with a roll of their eyes. You pull away, unable to help the satisfied look on your face. Your hands come up around his neck.

Sylus tilts his head, eyes alight with a fire. He smirks.

“Kitty has claws.”

You were only slightly embarrassed at the wetness pooling in your panties already. Though you knew it didn’t take much for him to get you going.

His face was glistening, a thin layer of sweat from the humidity of the abnormal hot night. The black shirt he was wearing was entirely too tight for your liking, taut chest and broad shoulders on full display.

He might as well just take it off.

You bit your lip softly, looking at his lips. Not shying away from your blatant eye-fucking, Sylus’ hand trails lower down your back, slipping into the pocket of your denim shorts that left little to the imagination.

Maybe you both were trying to drive each other crazy tonight.

“Sy…” you breathe, unable to contain the desire dripping from your words. “I need you.”

You don’t care if you sound whiny. You needed him inside, badly.

Sylus groans lowly as you tug at his strands slightly. He lets go of you, not before slapping your ass. “Get in.”

You should be ashamed at how quickly you run around the car to the passenger side. Everyone surely saw your display of affection, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You were way too needy right now.

Sylus reaches over to buckle your seatbelt, wasting no time in driving away as soon as he hears it click in place. You watch as the speedometer on his dash rises to the triple digits and it only makes your cunt throb harder. You sigh, frustrated at the lack of attention.

You kick off your kitten heels, sliding your shorts down your legs.

“Kitten…” it's a warning. Sylus glances in your direction, eyes stern.

“I just,” you slip your finger under your lace panties. “I can’t wait.”

His hand grips the gear shift.

You slip a finger into yourself, gasping at just how soaked you were. Without hesitating, you slip another in. The sound of your fingers deftly working your wet cunt was enough to earn another groan from Sylus.

“Sy…” a soft moan, “please.” another finger, but it was just not enough.

“I need you, now.”

He’s sloppy, clearly affected by your words as he swerves, haphazardly parking on the empty field that surrounds the road. Reaching over, Sylus unbuckles your seat belt and pulls you on top of him with such speed it leaves you dizzy.

His lips are on yours before you can process it, tongue swirling in your mouth. His kiss was burning with desire, unrelenting, his hand holding your head in place even as you struggle to breathe. You bring your hands to his neck, unable to let your instincts kick in.. You wished to devour him whole.

Sylus is the one to pull away, teeth softly biting into the swollen flesh of your bottom lip.

“What’s gotten into my sweet girl…” he ponders as you attack his neck, fingers now pulling his shirt up to feel the heat of his skin. Your tongue comes down to lick the sweat from his skin. You feel rabid, sucking down until you see the purple marks bloom just above his shirt.

Enough for everyone to know he’s yours.

You pull back, biting your lip with barely contained delight.

It makes him look so pretty, you think.

Sylus catches the way your eyes twinkle at your work. It almost makes him laugh.

Like a woman entranced, you quickly make work of his pants, pulling out his thick, hard length. You don’t even try to stop the soft moan that leaves your lips at the sight of his wet tip. You wonder if you’d ever stop being surprised at how big it was in your hand.

“Are you trying to tease me?” he questions roughly as you slowly slide your hand up and down his length.

“Can’t I just appreciate my boyfriend for a minute?” you bite back, and it earns you a hard slap onto your ass.

“But, you were so eager just a few minutes ago. Be a good girl and take my cock already.”

You knew better than to argue.

Sylus slides your panties to the side, helping you as you align your dripping pussy with his tip. You slowly slide down his length, feeling every. single. inch. until you’re completely full. You whine, back arching as you let his cock spread you deliciously.

He groans, hips coming up to meet yours impatiently. He leans back, hand on your hips as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Now ride it, kitten.”

His words make you lift your hips, slamming back down as soon as his tip is at your entrance.

Your breaths mingle, clouding the car’s windows. You continue to bounce on his cock, moaning sweetly with every move of your hips. His nails dig into your ass, guiding you to make sure he doesn’t slip out of your tight cunt.

“Oh, Sy!”

Sylus comes up, pressing his chest against you. His head is heavy on your shoulder, and you feel his teeth sink into your skin.

You’re not even sure if you’re still the one controlling your movements. Sylus’ hands come to your waist, using his absurd strength to keep sliding your slick against him. You're impossibly close, skin to skin, nails clawing at his back.

You were getting so close.

He knew.

The seat comes down and you squeal, falling onto his chest. Before you can question him, Sylus is slamming his hips up into you, deeper than before.

“C’mon, kitten. I wanna see you cum for me,” he’s breathless at the sight of you, mouth open and eyes rolled back. “Cum all over this cock, you know it’s all yours.” his words coax more honeyed moans out of your swollen lips.

He was making a fucking mess out of you.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

The euphoria is sudden, your orgasm making every limb in your body spasm against him. Sylus can feel your tight pussy creaming on his length, almost enough to send him over the edge. But—

“Can I—”

“Yes,” you whimper, still on cloud nine. “I want you to fill me up, Sy, please.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

You feel his hot spurts of cum inside you, doing just as you asked.

Legs numb, you stay on top of him, struggling to catch your breath. Sylus brings his hand to cup your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. When he pulls back, he has that infuriating smirk on his face again.

“All because of some girls?”

Your face is warm, and you try to blame it on the suffocating heat in the car.

“Shut up.” you drop your forehead onto his chest.

It makes his smirk wider, but his gaze softens. He brings his finger up to the window, using the condensation as an easel. You turn to watch him as he draws a tiny heart with your initials.

“You’re always going to be the only one for me, kitten.”

thank you for reading <3

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aomiiine · 6 days ago

Text

cock cage, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm

praedator! sylus who was sat down on a chair for an investigation, wrists held tight around his back by cuffs that his beloved enforcer graciously placed on him. He was whole-heartedly ready to keep his mouth shut and spilling sarcastically erotic words for this investigation but yet again, his enforcer was full of surprises. You chose to make this investigation a hands-on one, it seemed.

praedator! sylus whose saliva drools down the corner of his lips from all the ruthless teasing you gave him, heartlessly adding another body part of his to muzzle other than his mouth.

praedator! sylus who’s cock is achingly hard, pulsing in pure agony in its cage as it wept from the bulbous tip, flushed a deep shade of red bordering on purple from neglect. He curses you out, barks and growls at you to have you take off the muzzle and touch his bare cock. You could see how his hips jerked forward, thrashing around as much as his restraints allowed him too. And yet his feral threats only sounded yet needy pleas from the white haired praedator.

praedator! sylus who borderline whines and whimpers when you tease him long enough by denying him every single orgasm he was close to having. Even with a mere finger of yours running up and down the underside of his cock, praedator! sylus could feel his balls churning and drawing up tight, dangerously and embarrassingly close to exploding all over himself.

praedator! sylus who grunts and pants heavily like a dog when you bring his overstimulated dick to the brink of yet another climax, moaning out name like a curse and a prayer with his hoarse, baritone voice. His head thrown back would lean back forward when your fingers keep going on the agonising ministrations you provided to his erect cock, a light of hope that you’d lay mercy on him sparking in his lust-drunk mind. Hope that you’d consider finally letting him cum.

praedator! sylus who mumbles ‘yes’ repeatedly like a mantra when he feels himself inches away from spilling his load, the pads of your fingers rubbing insistently on his sensitive cockhead. His muscles flex, body tense as if bracing himself for the imminent impact that this orgasm would have on his body and mind—fuck, maybe his soul too. But you had to ruin it. Ruin the allusions of the most mind-blowing orgasm he might’ve had if you had just kept your hand moving. And now he’s a mess all over, hips bucking in the air and his rock-hard erection erupting like a fountain of thick pearly liquid of backed-up semen. His body spasms, laying back on the backrest of the chair as his thighs quiver with his entire body. His black pants are ruined, the concrete floor a lewd puddle of his baby batter that just kept flowing with each pulse of his cock and balls.

praedator! sylus whose mind turns so fucking hazy he can’t think of a single thought, only muttering promises of revenge at you while his crimson eyes remained unfocused, his vision of white spots forming as he threatened to pass out on you that very moment.

#not my best work but its something lol #sylus x reader #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader smut #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x reader smut #sylus x mc #lnds #lads #l&ds #lnds x reader smut #lads x y/n #lads x mc #lads sylus

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satorurize · 3 days ago

Text

Show me who you are..(p✩rnstar!)

Pornstar au; Sylus and Rafayel + a special bonus at the end <3

Warning: 18+, smut, MDNI, this is self indulgent and pure hornball energy, reader is fem

♡ Sylus

Definitely a solo performer, is infamous for his pov videos. Doesn't show his face since he's also the leader of the Onychinus and revealing his beautiful face would put him in a vulnerable situation.

He's got all the gears, the whips, harnesses, ropes. Soft BDSM was his forte. Initially he only did talk throughs for his massive and largely female audience, his subscriber count soaring through the roof just after his first video. His deep, raspy voice, ripped body and big cock did it for him.

But then, you came along, a captivated fan who sometimes took out time from your busy schedule as a hunter to indulge yourself in his videos, having no idea that it was actually the man you had encountered in the N109 zone. You had a hint, so you weren't too surprised when Sylus obliged to his dear fan to do a video together. He wasn't going to collaborate with anyone else besides you anyway.

He made sure you were blind folded with a lacy fabric which was enough for people to be able to recognise you.

He had you on your knees, hands tied onto your back with a clean knot, your beautiful bare body on display for him and his audience to enjoy.

Sylus dragged the tip of the cane tantalizingly, maybe perhaps with a playful sense of revenge from that one time you had him on his knees.

Your nipples were caressed beneath the leather of the cane, body shuddering at the cool sensation while heat pooled between your legs, you were embarrassingly wet with your inner thighs coated with your nectar.

Seeing a small trickle of your wetness down your thigh, Sylus immediately had an amused expression on his face. A smirk lacing his lips while he rubbed the leather now onto your soaked folds.

"Mh..please..more.." you pleaded in desperation, which was immediately followed by a soft spank with the cane onto your pussy, enough to make you jolt at the impact.

"Please what kitten..? Use your words." You let out a shaky breath at his sterness, it turning you on beyond measure.

"Please..sir.." Sylus was pleased with this switched dynamic, letting out a hum of approval as his fingers replaced the cane. The cacophony of your moans and the squelching from your wetness as he plunged his fingers within your cunt echoed the room.

Your body was worn as the man pulled orgasm and orgasm out of you. The floor a puddle of your juices as he made you squirt, over and over again. His greed really couldn't be satiated.

Some people were clearly envious of this very special guest but majority seemed to enjoy the new addition, the number of subscribers soared for him exponentially.

♡ Rafayel

Famous for his pretty face and passionate fucking. The way he did things in the bedroom were pure fun. Rafayel was providing his subscribers what most people weren't, and that was unadulterated romance between you and him.

The artist that he was, Rafayel shooting porn with you was always cinematic. The lighting, the angles where always set up in a manner that it would make the viewers even appreciate the aesthetics of it.

His sense of humor was incorporated in how he fucked, making his you laugh while he rearranged your guts and while managing to maintain his seductiveness. Took skill for most people, but Rafayel was a natural with his innate ability to be so..magnetic.

Anyone who craved watching "passionate sex", your and Rafayel's channel fit every single parameter of that genre.

Recently, the two of you were recorded a video in his bathtub, titled 'fucking my sweet girlfriend after a long day at work.'

Your back rested against his chest, his warmth merging with yours as he fondled with your breasts, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You giggled as you felt the tip of leaky cock brush against your folds and you decided to toy with him a little, pressing your thumb on his slit, with a glint of mischief in your eyes. A very evident throb passing between your legs when you heard him whimper for you.

That didn't really make you stop, now having your hand pump his length while you had your head turned to have your eyes gazing into his half-lidded ones, hazy with your touch.

It didn't take time for him to switch on you, making you face him with your thighs straddled onto him, with you positioned on top but the one to pull the strings was him, his hand settled onto your waist as you rode him slowly, but sensually. Each vein of his cock discerned against your cloying walls as you made love for the camera, that you forgot even existed.

He always made sure to give you a nice creampie by the end of it, or paint his cum onto your tits as the vision seemed to entice him. His videos were always inclusive of aftercare with him peppering kisses all over your body that appeared like worship. His and your fans always ate it up.

♡ Bonus! Sylus & Rafayel

You don't know what came over you, but you did not expect your beloved lemurian boyfriend to agree sharing you with Sylus for a video. There was some animosity in the beginning between the two, the bantering and both of them unleashing their sass upon each other.

However, all of it was soon wiped away when you were stuffed with Sylus' cock in your walls while your mouth skillfully worked on Rafayel's, hands placed onto his thighs for support. Things were a bit slow and steady at the beginning, neither of them really releasing their inhibitions until you begged them to be rougher.

Rafayel knew you could handle it, observing how well you took the other mans cock. He did feel a sense of pride in the end that you belonged to him.

"She can handle it, look at her..practically soaking your cock." He assured pulling out from your the hot cavern of your mouth. Rafayel leaned down nudging his nose on yours. "You can handle it, can't you cutie..?" You frantically nodded, all sense of shame already left body the moment the duo had you positioned between them on your knees. "Yes I want it..I want it so bad.." Sylus leaned in to plant kisses all over your back, tracing his fingers onto the cleft of your spine before he set a rougher pace as you asked. "Is this to your liking sweetie..?" Your replies only being a string of yeses and honeyed moans before your boyfriend gently guided on his cock again.

The two of them ruined you with pleasure together, leaving you to be a well fucked mess by the end of it.

Let's just say, this video remained too exclusive to be uploaded anywhere.

#lnds sylus #lnds rafayel #lads sylus #lads rafayel #sylus smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace sylus #rafayel x reader smut #sylus x reader smut #qin che #qi yu #sylus x you #rafayel x you #love and deepspace headcanons #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace

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loviatarsluv · 2 days ago

Text

APHRODISIAC

— ‎ ꜝ synopsis: it should’ve been just like any other auction you’d attended with sylus - get in, gather information, and get out - but an unfortunate run-in with another organization’s leader leads to a very… sticky situation.

— ꜝ pairing: sylus x reader (reader is technically MC, so they are described femininely and use feminine pronouns)

—ꜝ genre: smut (18+ reader discretion advised!)

— ꜝ word count: 5.6k

— ꜝ tags/warnings: strong language, dr*gging, aphrodisiacs, (f)masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), sylus being a consent king (⁎˃ᆺ˂)

—ꜝ author's note: another lads fic I’ve been sitting on for months bc I wasn’t sure if it was good enough to post but when I tell u the urge to write sylus smut is so strong at all times, esp to push the munch!sylus agenda … so I went ahead and finished this one and left it on a lil bit of a cliffhanger for shits and gigs (❛ε❛“) just know sylus had her up until DAWN, bro is trying to give himself lockjaw I swear

18+ ONLY under the cut!! I mean it!!

You tug at the tight crimson silk bound around your midsection, adjusting the almost too low neckline and the high slit that stopped just at the top of your thigh every few minutes to avoid a malfunction.

You recall Sylus’ words from months prior when you attended that first auction with him.

No one can stay wary when there’s a beauty walking around.

His flattery almost always held motive behind it— his intentions were clear with his choice of dress to adorn you in, and all you could do was grin and bear it as dozens of the N109 Zone’s most affluent gawked at you as you meandered around the lavish ballroom while Sylus was off doing god knows what.

“Miss, would you care for a glass of wine?” A waiter with a bright smile appears seemingly out of nowhere, a golden tray held before him with one single wine glass in the center.

You eyeball the glass for a moment, your better judgment scolding you for considering it, before shaking your head.

“No, thank you.” You smile politely, turning to walk away before the waiter clears his throat.

“Are you sure? It’s compliments of that gentleman over there,” he points toward a tall man looming in the corner, indolently leant against the wall and watching with a sly smirk on his face.

You squint at him, mentally searching your mind for any trace of him only to come up blank. Your eyes darted between the glass and the man, something telling you it would be wise to accept the drink in case it could start a conversation with a potential person of interest.

You feign a thankful smile, grabbing the glass by its delicate stem and swirling it slightly to subtly check for any tampering.

“Thank you.” You coo to the waiter as he dashes off, bringing the edge of the glass up to your nose to sniff it.

Unable to detect any smell or visible alterations to the dark red liquid, you sample a tiny sip, glancing at the man out of the corner of your eye as you do.

A deep and husky voice chimes through the earpiece Sylus had given you earlier, instructing you to keep it on at all times. So he can eavesdrop on me, you think to yourself.

“Miss Hunter drinking on the job? What a little rebel.”

You roll your eyes, now certain that Sylus was watching you somehow. Your eyes scan the higher parts of the room for Mephisto, but find no sign of the mechanical crow or the pompous man he answered to.

“Wasn’t this part of your plan? I stay down here and dangle myself like a piece of meat over a lion enclosure and hope someone bites while you get to do all the actual work? Well, someone has finally bitten. You should be thrilled.”

He chuckles lowly, and you tune your ears to try to listen for him somewhere in the room, but his voice remains secluded only to your left ear.

“Are you not having fun playing pretend?” Underneath the slight amusement, there’s a hint of genuine concern in his voice that catches you off guard.

A loud scoff tumbles from your lips, forgetting yourself for a moment before quickly covering it with a cough. “Are you actually making any progress, or are you too busy watching me? Is your faith in me so little?” You huff in retort, annoyance clear in your voice despite the deceiving little smile that remained on your face.

“Hard not to look at you right now, kitten. Red is your color.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, reminding you that you really were little more than a lamb primed for slaughter standing in a room full of hungry wolves— one of them being your escort.

A gruff sigh reaches your ears, his voice almost sympathetic as he speaks again before the line cuts off.

“I’ll be done soon. Hold tight.”

Before you can even attempt to reach out to him again, you notice a dark figure approaching out of the corner of your eye. You silently curse to yourself.

Sylus, you better hurry the fuck up.

“Red is your color, angel.” The man who’d sent the wine coos, peering at you from behind a pair of dark sunglasses that seemed out of place in the dim lighting of the room.

Somehow, you manage not to audibly scoff once again, biting down on your tongue as you offer him a sanguine simper from behind the glass as it perches on your lower lip.

“So I’ve been told. Thank you,” you deadpan, raising the glass to him, your dark burgundy nails tinking against the side, perfectly matching the color of the liquid inside.

He smirks, a mouth full of impossibly perfect pearly white teeth on display, his sharp canines peeking over his lip. “Don’t mention it, doll. Strange to see a pretty thing like you standing alone. Did you lose your escort?”

Misogynistic prick.

“I escorted myself.” You lie, your tone harsh as you respond sharply, unable to contain the bite in it at his presumptiveness.

“Forgetting about me already, sweetie?” Sylus’ voice is in your ear again, and it takes everything in you to fight the urge to rip the device out of your ear and stomp on it.

How you manage to be surrounded by the most insufferable men constantly is truly astounding.

“Well, it must be my lucky day then. How about a dance then, Miss…?” The man purrs, holding his hand out in offering.

Your eyes scan him once again, trying your hardest to search your memory for anything of note that could help identify him.

He was handsome— he looked like he had been torn straight out of an issue of a fashion magazine in his perfectly tailored gray suit and his lean physique. He was tall, but still not quite as towering as Sylus. He could almost appear as Sylus’ perfect negative, draped in lighter tones contrasted by his immaculately styled raven hair. He certainly had the ego to rival that of the leader of the fearsome Onychinus, but likely lacked the merit for it.

“Don’t waste your time. I’m wrapping up now.” Sylus rasps in your ear, an uncharacteristic tone of urgency in his voice as the words fly out of his mouth in rapid succession.

A devilish smirk tugs at the corners of your painted lips, deciding to give him a bit of hell as payback for leaving you out here like chum in shark infested waters.

“Vale,” you grinned coyly as you offered the fake name, knowing better than to give your real identity away, placing your hand delicately in his outstretched one. “And you are…?”

He offers yet another captivating smile before bringing the back of your gloved hand up to his lips. “Fawkes. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Vale.”

Fawkes. Where have you heard that name before?

“Shit. You didn’t drink any more of the wine, did you?” Sylus asks, his prior tone of urgency now topped with noticeable concern. “I’ll be there soon. Hold on, kitten.”

Your brows furrow, a pit forming in your stomach as the pieces fall into place and you suddenly understand the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

You’d only taken a sip, so the haze was manageable as it came on, but still enough to cause your eyelids to feel heavier than they should. You manage to maintain your composure as he leads you around the room, one cold hand wrapped around your waist, his fingertips digging into the bare skin of your exposed back, nails slightly digging into the flesh as if they were clawed talons perched atop a piece of carrion.

He watches you expectantly— you could feel his eyes on you even behind his dark glasses.

“Feeling alright, Miss Vale?” He dips his head low enough to bring his mouth close to your ear, his voice sending an unpleasant chill down your spine.

You feign a smile, coyly placing a hand against his lapel.

“Peachy keen. Thank you for asking,” you reply simply, attempting to subtly scan the room for any sign of Sylus.

The smirk on the towering man’s face sent a wave of nausea through you as the possibilities of his intentions with drugging the drink swirled in your mind— had he seen you enter with Sylus? Or worse… Did he know who you were, and did he know about the Aether Core?

Dreary eyes sweep the dance floor once more as he guides you into a graceful turn, your dress swishing across the marble tiles. No sign of Sylus still, and the pounding in your skull was only getting worse…

Not to mention, the… other effects that had started to set in, that you were trying with all of your might to ignore.

“Are you sure you’re well, doll? You’re looking a little… feverish. Perhaps you should lie down for a bit,” he offers coolly, as if he were an actor performing his lines for the millionth time. Your blood boils at the thought.

You shake your head, keeping an iron grip on your composure.

Any second now, Sylus will swoop in. He always does. He’s so handsome, and strong, and big… I wonder if—

Oh god, snap out of it!

“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day, s’all,” you slightly slur, mentally cursing yourself for losing control of your words while still trying to reign in your bodily functions and your mind that you were rapidly losing control of. Your eyes sweep the room once again, the room beginning to feel as though it were in rotation before landing on the area where you knew the ladies’ room to be. “I think I need to use the restroom.”

Just as you begin to pull away from his grasp, he reaches out once again, roughly yanking your body back against his and bringing his sinister grin close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver up your spine.

“But we haven’t finished our dance yet, doll,” His sickly sweet tone makes your skin crawl as his hands grip at your waist.

Just as you begin to worry that your fate has been sealed, you feel another much larger set of hands grabbing you by the waist and hauling you away. Sylus’ voice is low and gruff against your ear as he leans down to whisper to you. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

The low timbre of his voice sends a wave of heat through you, pooling low as a bright flush washes across your face tinting it a rosy hue. You try not to look him in the eyes for fear that you may lose the last remains of control you cling to.

Before you can even attempt an answer, Sylus pushes you behind him, his large and looming body shielding you as you cling to his back, pressing against the warm fabric of his suit jacket as it drapes over his broad shoulders.

He always smells so good…

“Ah, Mr. Sylus. Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to steal another man’s dance partner without asking first?” You hear the man’s voice distantly as you feel Sylus tense against you.

“Not nearly as rude as drugging another man’s date, is it not?” He hisses, his tone sharp and full of venom as his hand reaches behind his back to grip your arm protectively.

You recall earlier how you’d planned to make Sylus jealous out of spite, and the perverse part of your brain that had been wrenched out of hiding silently thank past-you for concocting such a brilliant plan— he is so hot when he’s like this.

Wait, what? Ugh, what did that asshole put in your drink?!

“Quite a big accusation to throw at a man with no actionable proof,” the man sounds amused, as if he were simply toying with his food. “Whether I’ve done such a thing or not, it would probably be wise to escort this lovely lady home. I’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry.”

Sylus’ jaw sets, his knuckles turning white at his side as he resists the burning sensation of his evol accumulating in his palm, the urge to send an angry mist of black and blood red to snap the man’s neck growing stronger with each passing second. He refrains, his demeanor calm and collected as he begins to lead you out of the ballroom.

As the two of you begin to pass the slightly shorter man, a hand reaches out to grip Sylus’ arm, halting him in his tracks.

What is said, you barely make out, every sound blurring together as the foggy haze makes itself at home in your unsober mind, but you could piece things together to discern what you thought was said.

“You have a long night ahead of you, my friend.”

Huh. Strange.

⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄

The silence in the car was deafening— or was it the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears? You couldn’t tell anymore, the world was all a hazy blur of sounds and lights and spicy cinnamon cologne that seemed so much stronger when contained and concentrated within the stark leathery confines of this small space.

You sneak glances at Sylus, your legs instinctively clenching together as you notice the iron grip his large hands held on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with the force of his menacing grip strength. You worried he might break the wheel entirely.

God, you’re going mad.

Especially when he looked like that— the way his muscles tensed and remained taut, his entire presence buzzing with an energy you’d only noticed when he would come to your rescue; a sort of protective, almost possessive aura that always made your heart skip a beat, but now it had your heart doing a full on marathon in your chest.

Typically, him speeding with you in the car might bother you, but you were too gone to care anymore. Your mind could not focus on anything but that stupid. Fucking. Cologne.

Was it the cologne, or was it just him?

“I have half a mind to go back and snap that man’s neck,” he breaks the silence, casually throwing the sentence out as if he were simply commenting on the weather. You knew he meant it, too. You swallow thickly.

It’s just him. Good lord… you’re in trouble.

You remain silent, for fear that whatever comes out of your mouth might seal your own death sentence. Death by mortification.

Sylus’ head turns slightly to peek at you, his brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

No. Nope. Not good.

“Y-Yeah. All good.” You muster, the tremor in your voice evident and undeniable. You pinch your eyes shut, hoping he won’t press you any further.

“Tch. You’re a bad liar, even with drugs swimming through your system.” He chastises.

Before you can attempt a defensive retort, the car lurches to a sudden stop, and you realize you were already outside of his base.

“We’re here.”

Just as your hands move to unbuckle your seatbelt, Sylus is already on the passenger side of the car, large hands making quick work of what your shaky, clammy ones likely would’ve struggled with. Heat radiates off of him as he leans over you for that brief moment and you feel your body instinctively lean into him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He freezes, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Let’s get you inside.”

You nod, your slightly damp forehead rubbing against the fabric of his shirt as you do. He pulls back, carmine irises scanning your face with a softer look than you’d ever seen him adorn.

His arm wraps around your back, the smooth, warm flesh of his forearm brushing against the exposed skin on your spine causing goosebumps to raise across your arms and your hair to stand on end. The smallest amount of skin-to-skin contact was already almost too much for you, and you jolted away from his touch.

Confused, he looks you over, thinking maybe he’d hurt you somehow. “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

You stare back up at him, chest heaving as if you’d ran here yourself, cheeks glowing and a sheen of sweat glistening all over your body despite the bitter chill of the winter air.

This is insane, it’s like I’m in heat! I have to get away from him before I do something stupid…

Without another word, you muster up enough strength to push yourself out of the car and dash through the front door, beelining it to the room Sylus had set up for you when you ended up staying the night in the N109 Zone.

You breeze past Luke and Kieran, who both offer some sort of silly greeting that you couldn’t be bothered to attempt to listen to this time, knowing you couldn’t look anyone in the eye right now knowing that your body was like a loose cannon.

It should be over in a few hours, right?

⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄

It had been much longer than a few hours.

At least it felt that way, for Sylus.

Sylus waited a bit before attempting to check on you, the familiar tug of worry in his chest that he only felt when you were hurt or in trouble persisting and making it hard not to fuss over you and make sure you were okay.

Not to mention, the last thing that wretched man said to him as he dragged you out of the venue echoed in his ears like a church bell— You have a long night ahead of you, my friend.

Whatever that meant.

“Boss, we can go check on her if you want!” Luke offers, breaking Sylus out of his swirling thoughts.

“Yeah! Don’t even worry about it, we’ll take care of her!” Kieran chimes in, stepping up behind Luke and peering at Sylus over his brother’s shoulder.

A heavy sigh escapes Sylus’ chest, his thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That will not be necessary.” Is all he says before turning and disappearing down the hallway toward your room, restraining himself from telling the two of them off for even offering. The thought of anyone coming near you that wasn’t him right now was making his skin crawl.

He tried not to rush through the extensive maze that was his main base to get to you, but he couldn’t help but move swiftly knowing that you were unwell, much less that you were unwell due to his own negligence.

As he approached your bedroom door, he could very faintly hear a low string of odd noises on the other side— were you crying?

Worried, he pushes the door open slowly, and the scene he finds is not at all what he’d expected.

Silver moonlight pours in through the parted curtains near your bed, bathing your blushed and panting figure in a starry glow as your skin glistens, your legs parted with your hand buried between them, your forearm draped over your eyes as you bite down on the sheets in a feeble attempt to conceal the moans and whimpers escaping your throat.

Sylus’ throat goes dry, unsure whether he should leave or announce his presence, unable to tear his eyes away from your body writhing in the stark black silk sheets, a million and one terribly profane thoughts flooding his mind at the sight.

“S-Sy— ah!” You whine, muffled by the silk on your tongue, but audible just enough for him to hear, and just enough to snap the last few strands of restraint he’d been holding on to.

He crosses the room in two or three quick steps until he reaches the side of the bed, clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence.

You gasp, your eyes snapping open, scrambling to readjust your dress to cover yourself. “Sylus! H-How long have you been s-standing there?!”

His ruby irises seemed so much darker as he looked you over, a low hum resounding in his chest. “Long enough.”

Your jaw goes slack, unsure what all he saw, or much worse, what he’d heard.

“I was just— it’s because of the— I wasn’t—” You clamor over yourself attempting to explain, your entire being feeling like you might fall apart at the seams due to both embarrassment, and the fact that you’d been seconds away from orgasm before the subject of your depraved fantasies so rudely and abruptly interrupted.

“I know, kitten. And if you had simply said something earlier, I could’ve helped you.”

Unsure if you’d heard him right, you look up at him, confused. “W-What?”

He chuckles lowly, his body lowering down to sit beside you on the bed, the mattress dipping below his weight as he scoots toward you.

“The drug— he gave you an aphrodisiac of some sort.” He explains, yet still expertly dodges your question.

“No shit, Sylus!” You yell, exasperated, still on edge and aching from the current lack of stimulation. You squeeze your legs together to quell the throbbing between them, a whimper dropping from your lips as you do. You grab one of the pillows and shove your face into it, wishing this hellish ordeal would end.

Sylus grabs the pillow and pulls it back down to look you in the eyes once again, a glint of both mischief and lust in his eyes. “Don’t hide from me, sweetie.”

“This is a nightmare.” You groan, your eyes moving to focus on the ceiling and avoid his knowing gaze.

A hand comes up to push a few sweat slicked strands of hair off of your face, then a thumb presses your jaw back down, holding it tightly as he inches closer, his face only a few measly inches away from yours.

“My offer to help still stands. If you want it, that is. But you have to give me a clear yes or no.”

Yes! Yes, please!

If you were hot before, you must be on fire now, your entire body feeling as if your blood had been replaced with magma. It took all of your strength to keep yourself from pouncing on him then and there, all rational and logical thought having left you the moment you’d entered this room.

“I need an answer, kitten.” He repeats, his hand sliding across the sheets, inching closer and closer to your thigh. You were practically trembling with need, each one of your muscles taut like a bowstring ready to send you whizzing through the air into his capable arms.

“Fuck it.” You practically moan, launching yourself forward and colliding your lips with his in a heated, breathy, sloppy kiss that was all tongue and teeth and pure greed. Not only on your part, but on his as well.

He molds you to him instantly, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, one hand moving to grip the back of your thigh before travelling underneath your dress to get a handful of the plush flesh of your ass. You break away from the kiss, dazed and gasping for air, a string of saliva still connecting his mouth to yours.

“Was that a clear enough answer for you?” You breathe, your voice huskier than you’d ever known was possible for yourself.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he whispers against your lips as you reconnect them, taking the lead by pushing him backward so that he was laying and you hovered above him. You could feel your slick dripping down your thigh, the cool air hitting it and sending a chill through you. You’d have likely been embarrassed in any other situation, but you had much more pressing matters in your mind— such as Sylus’ clothed cock pressing against you as it strains against his too-tight slacks.

You sit back, unsteady hands trying desperately to release it from its confines, but a large hand captures yours and brings it up to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“What an eager little kitten, I’ve got,” he purrs. “As much as I’d die to sink into you and never let you go— I think now maybe isn’t the best time.”

Ouch.

You weren’t sure if it was the effects of the drugs still swimming in your system that made his rejection feel like a knife through your chest, or if it was something else, but that’s exactly how it felt— as if he’d grabbed your heart and stabbed it like it were a butchered piece of meat.

His eyes soften as he notices the look on your face, a hand moving to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles under your eye. “Trust me, sweetie. I want to. More than anything, truly... But I want to do this when you want it for real, not because some deviant slipped a roofie in your drink.”

You remain silent, understanding his reasoning but wishing so badly you had a valid counterargument to against it, to beg and plead with him to just ravage you and not think twice about it— but damn this man for being so… thoughtful. You couldn’t possibly protest, even in your most addled state.

Taking note of your silence, he leans forward once again, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Besides, I want it to be special. I want to take my time with you,” His voice is low as he speaks, dripping with the promise of passion that only furthered your current dilemma. His eyes flick down to the spot beneath you on his pants where a dark, wet stain pooled, and he almost looks pained. “Let’s just get you through tonight first, hm?”

You sigh, beginning to climb off of him before he grips your hips, holding you in place. You raise a brow in confusion, only to be met with a lustful smirk. “I thought you said—”

“I said no to sex, not no to everything,” He explains matter-of-factly.

In a swift movement, he flips the two of you over, softly tossing your back against the mattress, your hair splaying out around your head like a halo. Large hands move to grip the plush meat of your thighs, gently spreading your legs and pulling your skirt up to expose the mess you’d already made of yourself, your panties soaked and the insides of your thighs drenched in your slick.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, a dangerous flicker of hunger flashing across his blood red eyes.

“Poor thing,” he tuts, his words like honey dripping from his tongue. “Already so soaked…” he grumbles more to himself as lays on his stomach, his face merely inches from your wet and waiting heat.

You can’t help but already moan in anticipation, your body aching with the fiercest need you’d ever experienced, that ache only intensifying the more he teased you. “S-Sylus, please…”

He ignores you, his eyes locked on your panties that were now essentially see through, examining your body as if he was trying to memorize it and save it for later.

He hesitates for a moment before leaning forward, his hot breath ghosting over you, eyes heavily lidded and full of pure desire as he peers up at you. Just as you open your mouth to plead with him, a long digit swipes up the center of your folds, lightly flicking your clit and making you jolt, wrenching a surprised yelp out of you.

“Are you sure you want this? I can try to figure out something else to ease your symptoms if—”

“Sylus!” You basically yell over him, leaning up and placing your hands on his shoulders, gripping at them as if your life depended on it. It sure felt like it did at this point.

“I have fantasized about this long before tonight, so I swear to all that is holy if you do not eat me out right now, I might actually keel over and die,” you ramble quickly, the words tumbling out as if a dam had burst in your brain and now the things that you barely even admit to yourself were spilling out freely. But you couldn’t care less at this point, you’d lost the ability to hours ago.

The words that leave your lips seem to shock both of you, an unreadable expression passing across his face before settling on something you could only describe with one word: primal.

He practically growls as he dives in, lapping hungrily at your still clothed cunt like a man starved. His voice vibrates against you, only furthering the sensation and nearly already overstimulating you. His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to him and fingers digging in and gripping them tight to prevent you from pulling away— not that you’d planned on it, anyways.

Your hand flies to his head, your fingers threading through his silver locks the way you’d wished you could dozens of times over. When your fingers find purchase, your nails scraping gently across his scalp, he groans loudly against your pussy— and god, you may not last much longer if he keeps this up.

“You are so,” he mutters into you, pausing to lick one long stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Fucking divine.” He finishes, one arm releasing your thigh so he could hook a finger beneath the soiled cloth and slide it to the side, the cool air biting at your drenched cunt as he exposes it.

“Fucking hell,” he murmurs to himself before diving in again, his tongue immediately finding your waiting hole, clenching and throbbing desperately around nothing.

Your back instantly arches off of the bed, a string of whiny, needy whimpers and curses filling the room amidst the profane squelching noises as he drinks you in as if you were the last drop of water in a burning hot desert.

He pistons his tongue in and out of you, using his still free hand to swipe against your neglected bud, shockwaves of pleasure wreaking havoc on your body and soul. You were already so close.

“S-Sylusss…” You mewl, bringing your hand up to bite down on your fist to muffle yourself. Sylus notices and quickly grips your wrist, yanking it away from your mouth.

“No, no, kitten. I need to hear you. Don’t hide from me,” he instructs, his voice a deep rumble akin to a purr against you. You lean up and nod at him with wide, teary eyes glazed over with pleasure. “Be good for me, won’t you?”

Good grief.

“Say it,” his voice is darker, more commanding. Your walls clamp down on the infuriating nothingness.

“I’ll be good, Sylus, p-please, pleasepleaseplease,” you plead, your voice more wanton and needy than you’d ever heard it before. It almost didn’t sound like you, if you hadn’t felt it drip off of your own tongue.

He hums in approval, bringing a finger up to tease at your folds, gently massaging and gathering up your slick on the pad of it before prodding at your entrance.

“I know, kitten. I’ve got you.” He purls as one finger slowly inches in, and a feeling somewhere between relief and desperation floods your body. It wasn’t enough, you needed more.

“More, please, please, I need—” You were practically sobbing, and he hadn’t even moved his hand yet.

“Hmm… so greedy,” without warning, he curls his finger, prodding perfectly at that spongy spot that made your vision go white and lit your body on fire, while his thumb starts to rub slow teasing circles around your neglected clit. “Is that better?”

“Yes! Just like that— I’m gonna come, just like that!” You scream, your hand instinctively pushing against his head to pull him closer.

He chuckles, complying with your nonverbal queue and replacing his thumb with his mouth, sucking down harshly onto your throbbing clit, sending you careening into the hardest orgasm you’d ever felt in your life.

Wave after wave of pleasure wrecks your body, slamming into you for what felt like forever while Sylus continued to work you through it all, one hand moving to lace his fingers between yours to help ground you while the other slowly moved within your pulsing walls as you came down.

Your body slumps, your chest heaving and your mind reeling. You’re still trapped in the haze of pleasure as Sylus pulls his finger out, placing one last lingering kiss to your over sensitive pussy before pulling away all together. You keen at the loss of his touch, already wanting more as he gazes up at you, chin glistening with the most pussy-drunk expression written across his features.

“Feel better?” He asks smugly, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and licking his lips, the burning embers of lust still flickering in his fiery eyes.

You want to say yes, but you know all too well that you could easily go for several more rounds and then some. You weren’t sure if you were even still under the effects of the aphrodisiac drug anymore, or if you were just finally admitting to yourself what you’ve known you wanted all along. This forbidden attraction to Sylus that had only grown the longer you’d spent time around him, the ache you felt to be closer to him anytime you went away or vice versa— you couldn’t deny it anymore, and that frightened you.

Sylus notes your silence, and chuckles, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head, his face hovering over yours. His breath smells strongly of you, and the thought makes your quivering legs clamp closed once again.

“Was that okay?” He asks, his eyes and voice softer than you think you’d ever heard from him, seeking reassurance.

Was that okay? You mock him in your head, your eyes flitting down to look at your disheveled dress, the sheen of sweat coating your skin, your heaving chest and not to mention the absolute disaster that was your lower half. Your eyes flit back to his, a wry smirk on your lips.

“If I say no, will you try again?” You ask earnestly, despite it sounding like a joke.

Sylus chuckles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Only if you ask nicely.”

⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄

other l&ds works ➛ bloop

#never beating the gooner allegations #I love sylus so much I need his **** ** ** *****#anyways!#love and deepspace #sylus #l&ds #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus smut #l&ds fic #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #sylus love and deepspace #sylus qin #my fics #⁺⊹♡◦₊⋄ lovey’s drabbles

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everlastingserenitys · 5 days ago

Text

SPOIL ME, RAW ! ♡︎

summ. in which sylus thought of a perfect surprise for you, which contained a little bit of money, and him.

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. spoiling, oral sex (f receiving), cunnilingus, kinda fluffy, oral sex in lingerie a/n. ITS CROW MONTH !!!! writing sy again. (also he IS a pussy eater dc what anyone says.)

The sound of your phone ringing awakened you from your beauty sleep. You groan as your fingers wrap your overheated phone–probably caused by it charging for too long, and you pry your eyes open on the screen.

Your eyes blink wide open when you saw Sylus’ contact illuminate on your screen.

Fuck, you both were supposed to hang out and you completely forgot to get up.

You immediately pick up and hop off your bed, getting changed in something comfortable as your phone rested between your shoulder and ear while you listen to whatever the fuck Sylus was saying.

“From what I could hear, you haven't gotten ready, have you?” Sylus said, his voice mixed with a hint of teasing and understanding. A sigh escapes your lips and you murmur a random excuse hoping it would be believable.

But of course, he doesn't believe you and just chuckled in response, “I'll be at your place in a bit. Wear something comfortable, yeah?”

You nod, as if he could see you, and the call ends momentarily. You already had a comfortable outfit on and you decided to finish getting ready before Sylus would show up. But those minutes of getting ready went by too quickly.

Because before you knew it, you were already sitting against your apartment door as your foot tapped a short rhythm on the ground.

You kept glancing at your phone and back at the window adjacent to you.

When was Sylus going to be–

A couple knocks were heard from behind and you got up from the ground, quickly opening the door to reveal Sylus standing right in front of you. Perfect timing.

“Shall we get going, sweetie?”

You nod and walk out of your own place, following Sylus like he also lived here with you. When the two of you head outside you gasp when you saw Sylus brought his motorcycle today. An egotistical smirk rested on Sylus’ lips and he brought his helmet over your head.

“Let's get going.”

“The mall?” you murmur as you remove the helmet off your head, fixing your hair through the reflection of Sylus’ shiny visor in view for you.

Sylus nodded and a small frown appeared on his lips, you quickly scramble a bunch of words together as you tried to make up an excuse that you were not disappointed at all, in fact, you enjoyed going shopping once in a while, it was just a little odd, coming from Sylus.

“C’mere, you can do your shopping and then I want to buy some stuff for you.” Sylus led you towards the mall.

Some time passed and all you did was window shopping. You haven't found a single thing and it was getting a little late, Sylus practically took you to only half of the mall and there were still a bunch of stores left.

“I give up. What did you want to buy me?” you ask, clinging your arm around Sylus’ as you two walked ahead through the mall. Sylus sighed and headed towards the…

Lingerie store.

“Here?” you chuckle, clinging your arm away from his and skipping yourself inside the store, where Sylus followed suit.

The store was filled with a bunch of expensive lingerie, all ranging from prices worth more than your rent. You sigh as you eyed a pair that you thought looked great.

“Want?” Sylus asked, his fingers snaking around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, looking at the piece of fabric resting on the mannequin.

“Too expensive.”

“Don't give me that, sweetie. I brought you here because I wanted to buy you something. Besides, I have enough to buy anything for you.” Sylus reasoned, and he was right, he had a lot of money but you still felt bad for some reason.

“What do you want in return?”

Sylus laughed, a cold, dry laugh escaped his lips, “just you trying this on for me.”

“Just trying it on, huh?” You teased, pushing Sylus away from you and looked through the multiple pairs, trying to find your size.

When you picked up your size both you and Sylus headed to the register and paid for your things. You walk out the store and quickly give Sylus a peck on his cheek, “thank you, sy. Let's go home now!”

Sylus nodded and led you out of the mall, taking you to his motorcycle.

After a relaxing drive in the motorcycle you finally made it to Sylus’ place. It was a quiet day in his area. You hopped out the motorcycle and took your helmet off, placing it in the back of Sylus’ vehicle.

“Wanna try the clothing I bought you?” Sylus asked, opening the door for you, guiding you inside.

How desperate. But it makes it so much more fun to toy with him.

“Mm, give me a few hours, then we can.”

“Okay.”

But when a few hours passed, he asked again.

“Now?”

“No.”

“Please?” his voice left off in a desperate tone and that's what got it for you. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath and then brought the bag where the lingerie was inside and headed to the bathroom to try it on.

You walk out the bathroom moments later, showing off your new piece of clothing to Sylus, whose expression changed faster than a lightswitch. Because the man who was acting completely nonchalant about this whole outfit he bought you, now couldn't take his eyes off for a second.

Sylus was practically eye fucking you on every step you took. Your reflection reflected upon his ruby iris and you stood in front of Sylus as you stared down at him, watching intently and waiting for him to say something.

“Sy?”

“Yes, sweetie?” he mumbled, his eyes still lingering on you.

“How is it?”

“Perfect. C’mere.” he raised his hands towards you, waiting for you to take it. When your fingers slide through his, Sylus’ breath started getting ragged and he was practically so, so close to fucking you right then and there.

You straddle your legs around his waist and slowly adjust yourself on him, but before you could get comfortable, Sylus’ fingers slid under the waistband of your panties and his cold, rough fingers danced on your clit.

“Wh-” you try to speak, but the feeling of his fingers working soo well on you was just making it way too difficult. Sylus moaned in response and he pulled his fingers away, staring into your eyes before he rested you along the couch.

His lips immediately make contact with your neck as he starts lowering himself lower, and lower. His tongue darted to every sensitive spot on your body and you felt like you were in heaven. Every cold, wet touch of his tongue sent shivers down your spine. Each. Time.

Then Sylus’ head was already down the lower half of your body, his tongue darts towards your clit and he practically toys with you through your panties. You squirm beneath him as the feeling of the tip of his tongue sinking deeper on the fabric of your panties was making you even more turned on.

Sylus slicked his tongue lower and sucked on your panties. You cling your legs around Sylus’ neck as he continues to savour every juice of you.

“Sylusss” you whine, rocking your hips back and forth letting his teeth hit your puffy folds as you try to ride yourself to release. Sylus groaned and pulled away, his finger resting under the waistband of your pantied before he pulled them down.

“Stay put, sweetie.” Sylus said before his tongue darts inside your soaking cunt. But this time, it felt so much better. Sylus practically ripped off your panties, as if they were ones you already had before. They were completely useless, he'll just buy you another pair eventually, ‘cause all he needed was you.

Sylus grabbed onto your thighs as his tongue continued their movements in you. He was sucking up everything inside you and you were so close to release.

“Please..” you moan, rocking your hips against him again. Sylus moaned in response and the vibrations sent shivers down your spine, you were so close to release, so, so, clo–

Fuck.

You grab onto the sheets as you roll out the last spurs of release.

“Ah, now your outfit is all ripped up” Sylus frowned, wiping his mouth as he stared down at you.

“And whose fault was that?”

Sylus chuckled and planted his lips on yours.

“Mine.”

part 9 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #qin che #lads sylus #sylus #sylus fluff #love and deepspace fluff #lads fluff #sylus x mc #qin che smut

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younbeanz · 1 day ago

Text

DONT START WITH CALEB I— WTHHHHDFHDJS

02/03/25; 10:55pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

anonymous said: hii. Can i get awkward moments during sex with the boys? 🙈

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

warnings: slight voyeurism with rafayel’s.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the way sylus kept hitting that special part deep inside of you made you see stars, increasing your pleasure by a tenfold. the sounds of his cock steadily sliding in and out of your heat echoes throughout the room, and you felt so full of him-

a strange, tightening sensation travels throughout your abdomen, making you cry out when you felt an intense climax washing over you, your release wetting his cock profusely as sylus’s hips stutters in response.

his eyes go wide when he sees the copious amounts of your fluid traveling down the length of his cock, managing to drip down onto the bed as you felt the pinpricks of embarrassment coursing through your veins.

it takes sylus a few moments to gather his thoughts, realization dawning on him just mere seconds later when he asks with a low drawl, “did you just squirt on my cock?”

your stutters of mortification echoes through the room, earning a rich chuckle from sylus when he picks you up, gripping at your backside as he slots his cock even deeper into your now soaked heat, “by all means, there’s no need to be embarrassed, kitten. in fact, i’d very much like it if you did it over and over again throughout the night.”

zayne had you pinned against the hotel wall, fucking himself into your heat after finishing a lecture at his conference. the way you had constantly teased him with your skin tight dress while clinging to his arms was enough to make the doctor lose the last bit of his self control.

the moment you both return to your room, zayne pounced on you, not even waiting to take off his glasses as he pulled down his dress pants and boxers, shoving your panties to the side before sheathing himself within your slick folds.

as he thrusts himself against you, his glasses kept getting in the way each time you tried to kiss him. feeling frustrated, you quickly grab at his glasses, tossing them aside in the midst of your lovemaking.

momentarily confused as his eyes tried to adjust to the view without the clarity of his glasses. while he moves forward without breaking his connection with you, you felt your eyes go wide when you heard the sound of a loud crack! beneath zayne’s feet.

you met with zayne’s gaze, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you felt your lover suddenly pin you to the bed, pumping his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace that takes your very breath away.

“that was quite the expensive prescription glasses you made me break, honey. perhaps i should punish you by not holding back anymore?”

you cling to xavier, basking in the way he held you tightly within his embrace. feeling so desperate for each other, xavier carries you to your shared bedroom, tossing aside your clothes before setting your form on the bed.

with his gaze darkened fully with desire for you, xavier quickly sheds off his clothes until he was just as bare as you, spreading your legs before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds-

however, the intensity of his thrust forces the top of your head to meet with your headboard, making you cry out as you let out a groan of pain. filled with panic now, xavier quickly slides out of you, his cock already softening due to the guilt of potentially hurting you.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to hurt you…” his hands immediately try to soothe the ache felt on top of your head, earning a soft hiss from you. it takes you a few moments to reorient yourself, but once your head slowly began to stop pounding did you push xavier on his back.

“that really hurt.” you pout at him, yet instead of allowing xavier to tell you how sorry he was, you interrupt him by grabbing a hold of his limp cock, slowly stroking him back to full hardness while basking in his groans of your name, “as punishment, i’ll be the one in charge for the night.”

you tried to convince rafayel to behave during your museum date-

yet he seemed to have had other plans when he traps you behind one of the walls, hands already sliding up the skirt of your dress, “it’s your fault for getting me all riled up, princess.”

he smiles sweetly down at you, already knowing that you could never resist him when he pulls down your panties, allowing it to hang on your ankle as he lifts up one of your legs. he had merely unbuttoned his slacks, allowing his erection to peek through his boxers before impaling your cunt with his cock.

you toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, trying to keep your voice even as rafayel swiftly pumps himself in and out of you. as you became caught up in the moment, you heard a series of loud voices echoing throughout the exhibit. people had came directly into the area where you and your spoiled boyfriend were fucking, your eyes going wide as rafayel stops his rapid thrusting.

“oh the art is so lovely here, dear.” an older woman’s voice echoes throughout the exhibit, making rafayel smirk as he leans in to whisper within your ear, “relax princess, no one is gonna even notice us.”

as the older couple began to talk about the various art pieces on display, rafayel continues his rapid thrusts in and out of you. he covers your mouth with his large hand, and you could hear footsteps coming closer to where you and rafayel were hidden.

“dear, what’s that strange… wet sound? is there a potential leak somewhere?”

“ah, indeed, we should alert the curator of this. it would be a shame to see such wonderful works be ruined by the moisture.”

by now, rafayel was practically grinning at you, continuing his steady pace as the sounds of footsteps slowly walking away eased your anxieties, making you cum directly on rafayel’s cock, the sensation of your walls clamping down on him causes him to shoot his seed deep inside of you.

“heh, what a naughty princess you are, getting off by the thought of getting caught.” the lemurian had a smug grin on his handsome features, still very much connected to you as you could feel his seed running down the length of your thighs.

even when you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks-

you found yourself unable to deny his claims.

caleb had managed to trap you in his bed, pounding himself in and out of your heat, his mouth clamping down on his dog tag necklace to keep it from moving too much. as your moans and gasps echo throughout the room caleb’s phone was heard going off in the middle of his passionate lovemaking.

he clicks his tongue, and before you could even stop him, caleb removes his necklace from his teeth and answers the call, using his free hand to keep the phone pressed against his ear while continuing to fuck you with his cock. “yes?”

“colonel?”

“speaking.”

you let out a whimper when he listens to his colleague on the other line, forcing caleb to place his hand over your mouth before moving against you once more. your breasts continue to bounce in tune to his rapid movements, unsure of why he could be so calm while you remained an utter mess for him.

you were dimly aware of all the military jargon caleb said throughout the phone call while his cock was still nestled so deeply inside of you, making you whimper each time his hips met with yours in an almost bruising thrust as he made quick work of finishing his call.

“just place the reports on my desk. i’ll see you at 0600 sharp tomorrow.” with that final phrase, caleb tosses aside his phone before returning his attention back to you, “sorry about that, baby… that won’t happen again. now, let your man take care of you.” he had barely began pumping his dick in and out of you when you felt your release quickly approaching-

something about witnessing caleb doing mundane tasks while he fucks your brain out causes a new rush of pleasure to course through your very veins, making you cry out as you spilled yourself on his cock, earning a grunt of approval from the colonel settled above you.

“that’s my good girl… so pretty and perfect for me.”

end notes: i’m back home bc i miss this blog so much 🙂‍↕️ also, this request was so hot and so much fun to write ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus smut #zayne smut #xavier smut #rafayel smut #caleb smut #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace

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dollgxtz · 7 days ago

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Five More Minutes?

Word Count: 6.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, morning sex, biting, injury, a bit of blood, teasing, fingering, nicknames like good girl, kitten, my love, grinding, humping, overstim, breeding

Summary: You have to get up soon for a team meeting at your job but Sylus shows you all the reasons you should stay in bed with him instead :3

His warm breath danced across your ear as he left gentle kisses, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered, "Just let me make you cum again." His words were a gentle persuasion, a soft coaxing that seemed to seep into your very being. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"

AN: Man, it feels SO good to be back writing again. I hope you guys enjoy this little fic I wrote up over the weekend! Another fic idea crossed of the list! Enjoy!

The room is still, wrapped in the muted hush of early morning in Linkon City. The faint glow of dawn filters through the blinds, casting soft, golden lines across the walls. Outside, the city stirs, but in here, time moves slower. The only sounds are the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the steady, even breaths of the man beside you.

Warmth cocoons you—thick blankets tangled around your legs, the lingering scent of laundry detergent on the sheets, and the solid, unmistakable presence of Sylus pressed against you. He’s a furnace, radiating heat even in sleep, his arm heavy across your waist, fingers curled loosely around the skin of your arm as if, even unconsciously, he refuses to let you go. His face is buried somewhere near your shoulder, breath warm and slow against your skin.

Right. He stayed over last night.

The memory unfolds in fragments, soft and hazy around the edges. He’d brought a bottle of wine, a gift for you, though you’d insisted—pleaded—that he share it with you. It had taken a bit of coaxing, some playful pouting on your part, but eventually, with a quiet sigh and a small, indulgent smile, he had obliged.

And then…

Your face heats up.

The night plays back in your mind, moments flickering like warm candlelight—his quiet laughter, the way his eyes softened as he listened to you talk about any and everything, the casual brush of fingers against skin that grew less accidental as the night went on. The pinkness of his face as he poured you both another glass. The slow unraveling of space between you. Then suddenly you both weren't wearing clothes.

Though he hadn't even bothered to remove your underwear, electing instead to just move the fabric aside for quicker access. The moans, the sweat, the pleasurable ache of him pushing inside you, filling you completely until you felt like you couldn't breathe...

You shift slightly in his grasp, your pulse quickening for reasons that have nothing to do with the morning chill.

But something tugs at the edge of your awareness, a vague, creeping sense that you’re forgetting something. A loose thread in your mind, pulling tighter with each second you lie there.

Your hand fumbles across the nightstand, fingers clumsy with sleep as they search for your phone. The cool surface meets your palm, and you bring it close, squinting against the harsh glare of the screen. The sudden brightness stings your tired eyes, and you blink rapidly, trying to focus. The numbers staring back at you make your stomach drop.

Shit.

A team meeting. In an hour.

For a few seconds, you just stare at the screen, mind sluggish, like a machine still booting up. Right. You need to move. Shower, throw on something presentable, maybe down an entire pot of coffee before suffering through whatever motivational spiel Captain Jenna has planned this morning.

You exhale through your nose, slowly, carefully, and begin the delicate process of slipping out of your bed.

The sheets rustle as you peel them away, inch by inch. You shift just enough to lift Sylus’s arm, careful not to wake him, careful not to disturb the heavy warmth of sleep still clinging to him. The air beyond the blankets is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the body beside you. You manage to slide his arm just far enough—his fingers loosen their hold, giving you the sliver of space you need.

And then, just as you begin to rise—

His grip tightens.

A soft, barely-audible noise escapes him—a quiet sigh, laced with something almost petulant, as his fingers curl tighter against your stomach. Before you can react, he shifts, using that lazy, effortless strength of his to pull you flush against him, caging you in with an arm that’s now locked like steel around your waist again. His face buries deeper against the crook of your neck, breath warm, slow, and completely undisturbed.

You freeze.

For a moment, you don’t move, barely daring to breathe. Maybe, just maybe, if you wait, he’ll shift again, loosen his hold, let you slip away without incident.

But no. His grip remains firm, steady, an unspoken claim that keeps you anchored in place.

You sigh, staring at the phone still clutched in your hand.

Well. So much for an easy escape.

You squirm against him, frustration creeping in as you attempt to loosen his grip. His arm is a dead weight around your waist, unmoving, solid, like he’s anchored you to the bed on purpose. The warmth of his body radiates into yours, making it all the more difficult to convince yourself to leave the comfort of the blankets. Still, you have a meeting. You have to get up.

“Sylus,” you whisper, testing the waters, voice hushed in the stillness of the room.

No response.

You shift again, pressing your back against his chest, hoping that if you disturb his sleep enough, he’ll finally wake up. But he remains perfectly still, save for the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. You know he’s usually a light sleeper so something about the way he’s too still makes you suspicious.

You try again, this time a little louder. “Sylus.”

Nothing.

The stubborn warmth of him seeps into your skin, lulling, dangerous, tempting you to sink back into sleep. But you refuse to fall for it.

Fine. If he’s going to be difficult, you’ll make him wake up.

You shift your elbow into position, drawing in a breath before—

Thud.

Your elbow connects with his chest, firm but not enough to actually hurt him. The effect is immediate.

A low grunt leaves him, but it’s short-lived—quickly swallowed by a laugh that shakes through him, low and unreasonably warm. The sound vibrates against your back, spreading through your chest before you can stop it. It’s deep, rich, full of amusement, and completely unbothered by your attack.

You glare at him over your shoulder, but he’s already grinning—lazy, smug, red eyes half-lidded with sleep but entirely too awake for someone who was just pretending to be unconscious.

“I figured,” he drawls, voice thick with lingering sleep, “if I just held still, you’d eventually give up and fall asleep again.” He pauses, another chuckle slipping past his lips, muffled as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses into your skin. The heat of his breath tickles your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “My bad for underestimating your stubbornness once again, kitten.”

Your stomach twists, an annoying mixture of warmth and irritation bubbling in your chest.

“You’re an ass,” you mutter, shoving weakly at his arm, though there’s no real force behind it.

He hums, unconcerned, tightening his hold around you with zero intention of letting go. “So you say. Just five more minutes.”

The weight of him presses against you, steady and familiar, and despite yourself, you stop struggling. You could fight it. You should fight it. But the way his body fits against yours, the way his warmth seeps into every inch of you—it’s too easy to melt into it, to let your body settle even as your mind screams at you about responsibilities.

His breathing evens out again, and just for a second, you let yourself sink into the warmth, into the comfort of him.

Five minutes.

Just five.

No, wait. You have to get up.

The thought pushes through the haze of warmth and sleep, clawing its way to the forefront of your mind, insistent and unyielding. You have a meeting. You have things to do. You can’t just stay here, no matter how comfortable, no matter how tempting the weight of Sylus’s body is against yours.

Still, the bed is so warm, the heat of him wrapping around you like a cocoon, the soft rhythm of his breath lulling, dangerous. He smells like remnants of cologne, a hint of last night’s wine still lingering on his skin, and something purely him, something familiar and grounding that makes it incredibly difficult to want to leave.

But you have to.

Sighing, you shift against him again, gathering just enough resolve to push at his arm, attempting to free yourself. His grip doesn’t loosen—if anything, his fingers curl tighter against you, securing you in place like an unyielding anchor.

"I can't stay in bed all morning, Sy" you murmur, voice slightly hoarse from sleep. You push again, trying to inch away, but it’s like trying to move a stone wall. "I have a team meeting soon." You pause, bracing yourself for the inevitable resistance. "I'm sure you have things to do as well."

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a low hum rumbles from deep in his chest, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end.

And before you can react, he moves.

Not to release you. Not to let you go.

No, instead, Sylus shifts forward, pressing impossibly closer, his bare chest firm against your back, his lips suddenly hovering at your ear. His voice drops into something dangerously smooth, velvety in its teasing amusement as he whispers,

"Mm…but didn’t a certain kitten beg me last night never to leave her side?"

Your entire body locks up.

Heat floods your face so quickly it’s almost dizzying, embarrassment crashing through you in waves as your mind scrambles to process his words. His breath, warm and deliberate, ghosts over your ear, and every single nerve in your body reacts all at once. A shiver works its way down your spine, traitorous and impossible to suppress.

He remembers.

Of course, he does.

The memory of last night unfurls in your mind like a film reel, every single moment flashing in humiliatingly vivid detail.

You’d been tired out by multiple orgasms, softened by wine and warmth, curled against him in the very same bed, murmuring words you hadn’t really been thinking through.

"Stay, don’t go, just a little longer. Never leave me, please?"

Of course he had assured you that he hadn't been planning on leaving in the first place. How silly of you to even beg him for something like that in the first place.

The pleas had slipped from your lips too easily, too naturally, and at the time, it had felt like nothing. But now? Now he was using it against you, and from the smugness dripping from his voice, he was enjoying it far too much.

Him and his constant teasing.

Your face burns hotter, the warmth of him unbearably close, suffocating, intoxicating. In a fit of sheer embarrassment, you thrash against him, twisting, wriggling, desperate to escape. "Oh, don't act like you didn't eat up every word I said! Let me go!"

But Sylus?

Sylus doesn’t listen.

He never listens.

Instead of loosening his hold, instead of giving in even an inch, he does the exact opposite.

He moves again, his hand gliding down the length of your body—slow, deliberate, maddening. His fingertips ghost over your side first, tracing a path too gentle to be ignored, before slipping lower, skimming along your waist, then back up in a slow, torturous caress. His touch isn’t demanding, isn’t forceful—it’s light, teasing, patient. The kind of touch that coaxes a reaction before you can stop it.

You shiver—visibly, undeniably.

And he feels it.

You don’t even have to look at him to know the smirk that’s surely curling at his lips. His fingers continue their featherlight path, unhurried, infuriating, utterly controlled. It’s like he’s memorized every spot that makes you react, testing, playing, pushing just enough to remind you that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Then, in that same, low, velvety tone, he murmurs,

"Shh…don’t strain yourself."

The words are a command, soft but firm, and before you can even process them, he adds, "Just call out."

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s doing.

He’s making you choose.

Stay or fight. Surrender or resist.

And worse?

He already knows which one you want.

"I can't just call out," you groan, frustration thick in your voice as you shift again, squirming against the warmth wrapped around you. "I've already called out four times in two weeks! Unless I have a good excuse this time, I'll get punished with desk duty..."

The thought alone is miserable. Trapped in the office, drowning in stacks of paperwork, stuck behind a desk instead of being out in the field actually doing something meaningful? No, thank you. You’d rather suffer through whatever mind-numbing speech Captain Jenna had planned this morning than subject yourself to that.

But the unshakable weight of Sylus’s arm draped across your bare skin tells you he has other plans.

For a moment, there's silence. A pause long enough that you think maybe—just maybe—he's drifting off again, and if you time it right, you can slip free. But before you even begin to try, he lets out a low chuckle, the kind that vibrates against your back, a lazy sound of acknowledgment that makes your stomach twist with anticipation.

His voice is slow, unhurried, still thick with sleep. "Punished with desk duty, huh? Yeah…that does sound rough…"

For a brief, foolish second, you almost think he's sympathizing with you. That he’ll finally loosen his grip, let you go, maybe even roll over and let you salvage what little time you have left before your meeting.

But then—he leans in again.

His lips hover just beside your ear, his breath warm as it fans over your skin. A barely-there whisper of heat, enough to send a shiver curling down your spine before you can stop it. His grip around you doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens—just slightly, just enough to remind you that he’s still in control here.

"I mean…" his voice dips lower, conspiratorial, teasing, smirking without even having to show it. "I could forge a doctor’s note if you really need it."

You blink, caught completely off guard.

"What?"

Sylus shifts, settling himself more comfortably against you, like this is just another lazy morning where neither of you have anywhere to be. His fingers begin to move again—absentmindedly tracing slow, meandering patterns across your stomach. Light, feather-soft strokes that aren't urgent, but they are distracting.

"Yeah," he murmurs, dragging his fingers idly up your ribs before dipping back down, his touch effortless, as if he's not even thinking about it. "I’m pretty good at it, you know. Could make it look real official—some tragic, unavoidable emergency."

You snort. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

He hums again, like he’s actually considering it. "Food poisoning? Appendicitis? Oh, I know." He presses in closer, lips brushing so lightly against your ear that you almost don’t register the words before he says them. "You were in a car crash."

A genuine laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. It startles even you, bright and amused, shaking your body just slightly against his. "A car crash? Really?"

"Of course," he replies smoothly, as if this is the most logical solution in the world. "A controlled one. Just enough damage to make it convincing. Maybe even get you some sympathy points—hell, you might even score a few extra days off to lay in bed with me."

You shake your head, still giggling, pressing your face briefly into the pillow before turning slightly to glare at him over your shoulder. "You are ridiculous."

But your amusement vanishes in an instant the moment his fingers graze lower.

The movement is so subtle—a mere shift of his hand, like he's still idly tracing those lazy shapes against your skin—but it lands over a sensitive spot just below your exposed breasts. The reaction is instant.

Your breath hitches.

Your body betrays you, tensing instinctively, muscles twitching beneath his touch. Your fingers reflexively shoot up to grip his hand, holding on like that might somehow stop him from noticing.

But he notices.

Of course he does.

His fingers pause for just a second, like he’s taking mental notes, cataloging the reaction, committing it to memory. Then, in a way that feels entirely too intentional, he moves again—this time even slower, more deliberate.

A soft, barely-there stroke, skimming over the tip of your nipple.

Your stomach twitches.

A sharp exhale catches in your throat.

You hate how easily your body reacts to him, how he barely has to do anything, yet your skin is already burning. You can feel the smirk on his lips even though you’re not even looking at him.

His voice is quiet, teasing. "Seems you haven't had enough of last night, kitten."

Your entire body goes rigid. Oh, no. No, no, no.

This isn’t good.

You stay still, hoping, praying, that maybe—just maybe—he’ll leave it alone. That he’ll stop before this becomes something you’ll never live down.

But of course, he doesn’t.

His fingers continued their deliberate dance across your skin, each stroke igniting a fire that spread from the bare expanse of your stomach to the very core of your being. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the heat of his body pressing closer, the unmistakable hardness of his cock brushing against your panties, sending electric shocks through your body.

Your breath hitched, an involuntary reaction that betrayed your desire to remain composed. Sylus, ever attentive, noticed your body's response, the way you tensed and shivered under his touch, your nipples hardening further, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Are you sure…” he murmured, drawing out the words like honey, “you don’t want to stay in bed?” His breath was warm against your skin, a tantalizing whisper that sent shivers racing down your spine.

As he spoke, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly, deliberately pulling them down, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. The cool air on your exposed skin sent shivers down your spine, a contrast to the heat of his touch.

Your body betrayed you, the wetness pooling between your legs a clear testament to your desire. Each brush of his fingers sent waves of heat coursing through you, an insatiable yearning clawing at your insides. You wanted him—needed him—yet the game he was playing was as intoxicating as it was maddening.

His fingers danced lower, their path a tantalizing tease, tracing the edges of your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You shifted, your back arching, your hips moving involuntarily, your body instinctively craving more of his touch, drawn to the heat and pleasure he offered.

Your heart raced, a wild drumbeat that echoed in your ears as you felt the heat of his gaze on you, his fingers poised tantalizingly close to the edge of your desire. You swallowed hard, the words stuck in your throat, a delicious mix of defiance and longing swirling within you.

“I…” you began, but the breathy whisper faltered, caught between shyness and the primal urge coursing through your veins. The way he leaned in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, made it impossible to think straight.

"Sylus stop...I need to..."

"Hm?" he pressed, his voice a sultry murmur that coaxed the truth from your lips as his fingers moved lower. With a deliberate slowness, he dipped the tip of his finger inside you, the sensation igniting a spark that shot straight to your core. You gasped, your body instinctively tightening around him, the warmth of your walls welcoming his intrusion.

"Mghn!"

The way he toyed with you was maddening; it was as if he could sense the storm brewing within, each twitch of his fingers a spark igniting the kindling of your desire. You could feel his cock twitching behind you, hard and insistent against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of need straight to your core.

He knew exactly what to say to unravel your defenses, to make you surrender to the sensations coursing through your body. His voice was a low, husky whisper, a sensual temptation that seemed to wrap itself around your resolve, weakening your resistance. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?" he murmured, his words a provocative challenge, a dare to admit the truth - that you were helpless against the pleasure he was unleashing upon you.

The way he spoke, the words he chose, it was all so deliberately crafted to break down your barriers, to make you succumb to the desire that threatened to consume you. And yet, despite the warning bells ringing in your mind about your meeting, you couldn't help but feel yourself being drawn back in, helpless against the tide of pleasure that he was so expertly manipulating.

Dammit, he knew exactly how to play you, and you were powerless to resist.

“M-make it quick...” you finally breathed, the words spilling forth with a desperate honesty that hung heavy in the air between you.

His eyes darkened, a glimmer of satisfaction sparking within them as he shifted, pressing his hardness against you more firmly, the friction sending waves of heat cascading through your body. “Good girl,” he crooned, his finger finally dipping deeper into your slick folds with a teasing gentleness that made your breath hitch once more.

You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch, craving more, needing him to explore you fully. “Fuck…” you begged, the desperation in your voice a heady cocktail of need and surrender that only fueled the fire between you.

The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment, the morning lighting casting long sun rays that seemed to merge with the heat of the encounter. The scent of anticipation lingered in the air, intertwined with the musky aroma of arousal. Every sense was heightened, every touch magnified, as if the world had narrowed to this single, electrifying moment.

You were drowning in a sea of sensations, the rhythm of his movements synced with the pounding of your heart. The emotional undercurrents were as intense as the physical ones, a primal dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless and yearning for more.

As his finger moved with deliberate precision, you became more acutely aware of the symphony of sensations enveloping you. The aching pressure already building in your lower stomach, the heat, the teasing gentleness, it was too much and yet not enough all at the same time. The dialogue between you was minimal, yet every word, every moan, seemed to speak volumes.

You tried to keep your focus on the upcoming meeting, the fear of being late and the prospect of desk duty looming in your mind. But as Sylus continued to orchestrate pleasure within your soft walls, the rising heat between your legs became all-consuming, your thoughts dissolving into a haze of pleasure.

But when he added the second finger, you didn't have the strength to make him stop any longer.

Your grip on his arm tightening, your nails digging into his skin as you arched into his touch, your body moving in rhythm with his fingers, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The sound of your own moans filled the air, a testament to the pleasure he was delivering, your mind unable to focus on anything but the sensations he was evoking.

"That's it, my love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Nice and loud, you sound beautiful". He sounded close to unraveling himself, cock now straining impossibly hard against the roundness of your ass.

As Sylus's words washed over you, your body responded instinctively, your muscles clenching around his fingers, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, each exhale a warning to the building pleasure. Your climax approached like a rising tide, your body trembling, your voice reduced to a series of gasps and moans, your nails digging into his arm as you surrendered to the sensations he evoked.

"S-sylus! Im-!".

"I know, I know" he whispered, panting and grinding into your backside. He deftly curved his fingers, hitting that spongy part inside. Your body responded to his movements, your muscles clenching and releasing around his fingers, your breath coming in shorter, sharper gasps, your climax building to a crescendo, until you cried out, your voice hoarse, your body trembling, your release a powerful wave that left you breathless and sated, the fear of work and its consequences now a distant memory, replaced by the all-consuming pleasure Sylus had delivered.

As you lay there, still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, Sylus took advantage of your heightened sensitivity, pushing his cock fully inside you in one smooth motion. Your body, still slick with arousal, offered little resistance, and he filled you with a solid thrust, his girth stretching you, his length filling you completely.

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations—the overstimulation of your orgasm blending into the pleasure of his intrusion, which quickly morphed into a slight pain as he began to thrust inside your tightening hole. "So fucking tight," he growled, his voice a low, primal sound.

His grip on your body tightened, almost possessive, as if trying to keep you from moving, from escaping the pleasure he was delivering. You struggled to breathe, your body shaking, your senses overloaded. "Sylus...too much!" you cried out, your voice hoarse, your body practically shaking with the intensity of the sensations.

"You're okay, kitten," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Bite down on my hand."

He offered his hand, his fingers curling around yours, urging you to bite down, to ground yourself as he continued to thrust, his pace relentless, his body a cage of pleasure and pain, his grip on you a reminder that you had no choice but to surrender and take every thrust he was giving you.

You bit down on his hand, your teeth sinking into his skin, grounding yourself in the physical sensation as his thrusts continued, relentless and powerful. The pain and pleasure mingled, creating a heady mix of sensations that overwhelmed your senses. Your body shook, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, your nails digging into his arm as you clung to him, your body moving in rhythm with his.

Despite the pain, he didn't flinch, didn't try to pull his hand away. Instead, he seemed to lean into it, his movements becoming more insistent, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. The friction between you was almost palpable, a living, breathing thing that pulsed with every thrust.

Sylus's movements suddenly became slow and sensual, his thrusts a a new gentle rhythm that built pleasure anew. Your bodies, slick with sweat, moved in sync, your moans filling the air, a symphony of pleasure and desire that seemed to echo off the walls.

As he moved, his cock rubbed against your G-spot, sending shivers through your body, making your toes curl and your fingers dig harder into his skin. His pubic bone pressed against your clit, adding an extra layer of sensation, making your body tremble with anticipation. Your moans grew louder, more insistent, as he continued to thrust into you sensually, lovingly

"Y'know..." he whispered, his voice hoarse and strained, his words barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. "I could give you a really good excuse to miss work for nine months" His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, making your body arch into his touch.

Your entire body locks up.

The weight of his words crashes down on you like a lightning strike, your mind screeching to a halt as it fully processes what he just said. Nine months. Nine. Months?

Oh. Oh.

Your breath stutters, your heart hammering so loudly you can hear it in your ears. A fresh, unbearable wave of heat floods through you, burning up from the inside out. You can’t even think properly, your thoughts spiraling into what ifs and impossible images that make your stomach flip so violently you almost feel lightheaded.

Your lips part—you want to say something, anything, but your brain is completely fried, every coherent thought erased by the sheer weight of what he’s implying. Instead, a strangled, breathless noise escapes you, somewhere between a choked gasp and a disbelieving scoff.

Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your body trembling on the edge of release. His thrusts became more insistent again, his pace quickening, his body moving in rhythm with yours, his voice a low, primal growl that seemed to vibrate through every cell in your body. You felt yourself getting closer and closer, your body coiling tighter and tighter, until you were a spring ready to snap.

You find yourself biting even harder on his hand, moaning and choking curse words into his skin.

Sylus still didn't flinch, thrusts didn't even falter, even as your teeth dug deeper into his skin. "That's it, kitten, let go," he urged, his breath hot against your ear, his words spoken with raw desire. "Cum for me". His voice was like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a fire that had been building for what felt like hours.

You surrendered to the building pleasure, your body convulsing around his length, your release a powerful wave that left you trembling and breathless. As you came, your body milked his cock, squeezing and releasing in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to draw him in, pulling him closer and closer to his own release. Sylus followed, his own climax a hot flood within you, his body shuddering as he filled you with his cum, his breath ragged against your neck. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, releasing wave after wave of heat, making your body tremble with aftershocks.

Even as you came down from the peak of your orgasm, you still bit down on his hand, the pain a reminder that you were still alive, still present in your body. Tears streamed down your face, your eyes closed as you struggled to process the intensity of the feelings that had just torn through you. Sylus didn't seem to mind, didn't try to pull his hand away, instead wrapping his other arm around you, holding you close as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax.

The air between you is thick, heavy with the aftermath of what just happened. Your body still hums with sensitivity, the lingering warmth of his touch ghosting over your skin even in the places where he’s no longer touching you. Your breath comes fast and uneven, mingling with his in the limited space between you. It takes a few sluggish seconds for your mind to catch up, for reality to seep through the haze of warmth, exhaustion, and the overwhelming presence of him.

You shift slightly, the movement sluggish and lazy, tangled in sheets that are now an absolute mess beneath you. But something catches your eye, a faint streak of red between his index and thumb—small, but unmistakable. Your gaze sharpens, the fog in your mind clearing just enough to process what it is. His hand. The mark you left there.

Your stomach twists.

Turning fully toward him, you reach for his hand without thinking, grasping it between your own as you bring it closer to examine. The skin is broken, a faint indent of your teeth still visible, a thin smear of blood welling up along the fresh bite wound. You swallow hard, something warm—guilt, embarrassment, maybe a little bit of both—curling low in your chest.

"Sylus," you murmur, tracing the edge of the wound with gentle, careful fingers, your touch barely a ghost against his skin. "You're bleeding. I'm so so sorry."

The reaction you expect—a wince, a sigh of annoyance, maybe even a scolding remark about being too rough—doesn’t come.

Instead, he chuckles.

A deep, amused sound that rumbles through his chest, utterly unbothered. His free hand moves almost lazily, fingers threading into your hair as he pulls you in just slightly. Before you can protest, he presses a warm, lingering kiss to your lips. Then another. And another. Each one deliberate, soft, like he’s trying to reassure you that he’s perfectly fine. That, despite the evidence on his skin, he doesn’t mind.

"You're so cute when you get all worked up and worried about me," he muses, voice drenched in amusement, his lips never straying far from you. "You've seen me bleed before. I healed just fine, this is no different."

You let out a breath, one you hadn’t realized you were holding, but you don’t let go of his hand. Your fingers tighten around his slightly, still feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your own. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen him injured before—this is different. The mark is from you. You did this. The thought makes something in your chest twist, a tangled mix of emotions you don’t have the energy to sort through right now.

Sylus, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit concerned.

He tilts his head slightly, brushing another lazy kiss against your temple before murmuring, "Since you’re so worried, and since you’re already late for your meeting…you can help me bandage up."

You blink.

The words take a full second to register in your mind.

Then, suddenly—panic slams into you like a freight train.

You jerk upright so fast that the blankets tangle around your legs, the soreness in your muscles protesting immediately. But you ignore it, lunging for your phone as a pit of dread sinks deep into your stomach.

No.

No way.

This can’t be happening.

Your fingers fumble against the screen, tapping it awake, and the moment your eyes land on the time, your heart stops.

You stare.

The numbers blink mockingly back at you, taunting you with undeniable proof that your absolute worst-case scenario is now reality.

You were supposed to be in that meeting fifteen minutes ago.

Fifteen. Minutes. Ago.

For a moment, your brain completely short-circuits.

Your breathing is still uneven, your body still warm and exhausted, and yet—somehow, all of that disappears beneath the sheer force of realization slamming into you. Your stomach drops into oblivion, a rising sense of dread climbing up your spine as your pulse kicks into overdrive.

Slowly—mechanically, like you’re in some kind of fever dream—you turn your head, your wide eyes locking onto Sylus.

He’s watching you, still completely relaxed, utterly unbothered. One arm is lazily draped behind his head, the other still in your grasp, and there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that tells you he knows exactly what’s happening in your brain right now.

You open your mouth, ready to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a strangled, breathless, "No way."

His smirk grows. "Oh?"

You snap your gaze back to your phone, as if staring at the numbers harder might somehow make them change. But they don’t. The reality is unavoidable.

You lunge back toward him, shoving his shoulder as the weight of the realization crashes over you. "No way. No way! There’s absolutely no way our—" You flail your arms wildly in emphasis, words momentarily failing you. "Activities lasted an hour!"

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, one that does absolutely nothing to ease your growing panic.

"You sure about that?" he muses, arching a brow.

You open your mouth to argue, to deny, to insist that there’s no way you just completely lost track of time like that—but then you stop.

Because, unfortunately, the evidence is right there.

The sluggish ache in your limbs, the dull soreness still lingering in your muscles, the aftershocks still thrumming beneath your skin—all of it is proof.

Your jaw clenches shut.

Your entire body slumps forward, collapsing back onto the bed, an absolutely defeated groan ripping from your throat. You drag a hand over your face, squeezing your eyes shut, as if that might somehow undo reality. "I'm so screwed."

Sylus’s laughter vibrates through the mattress, deep and thoroughly entertained. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s loving this.

A moment later, his good hand finds your waist again, fingers tracing lazy, absentminded patterns against your still-sensitive skin. His touch is warm, soothing, completely unrepentant.

"Relax, kitten," he murmurs, his voice a slow, indulgent drawl.

You hear the smirk in his tone before he even says it.

"The offer for that car crash is still on the table y'know..."

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus #lads #love and deepspace smut #sylus x reader smut #sylus smut #love and deep space sylus #lads sylus #lads smut #l&ds smut #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus lads #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #sylusposting

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l0v3shot · 3 days ago

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ADORE YOU. — sylus x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you've been feeling insecure as of lately, so sylus decides to take matters into his own hands.

wc: 2k or so

cw: soft dom sylus, swearing, nsfw content (mdni!), vaginal fingering, lots of praise

"no hiding, kitten. keep your eyes forward like i told you to." sylus commands, though his tone remains gentle. when you refuse to lift your face from the crook of his neck, he sighs before continuing.

"thought you wanted to be good for me, hm? what happened to that?" now this gets your attention.

with a huff, you lift your head, turning your gaze back to the mirror. you squirm in his lap, feeling embarrassed about the sight before you, but he doesn't let you go anywhere. his grip on you remains firm, unyielding, causing you to still.

"there's my good girl," he purrs against your ear, the praise sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

"this is embarrassing, sylus!" you whine, feeling your cheeks begin to heat up as you stare back at the sight of yourself in the mirror.

the two of you were sitting on the edge of the bed, you in his lap with your back pressed flush against his chest. while you would have loved this position any other day, the huge mirror propped against the wall in front of you made a huge difference. made you feel exposed, vulnerable.

which was exactly what sylus wanted.

you had tried to hide it from him, but he still noticed, he always did. nothing ever got by him, no matter how secretive you tried to be. so it was really no surprise when he easily picked up on how insecure you had been feeling as of lately. now, he was determined to show you just how beautiful you are. enchanting, as he put it.

his hands slide down to your thighs, gently urging them further apart, the touch a warm caress. it causes your breath to hitch, anticipation coursing through your veins.

"do you want me to stop?" he asks, his breath ghosting over your skin as he speaks. he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it come from your pretty lips.

you instinctively shake your head, eyes silently pleading with him in the mirror, begging for more. it's cute, he thinks, but it's not what he wants from you.

"words, sweetie. i need to hear you." he says, teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck in a teasing manner.

"no, don't stop," you breathe, turning your head to look at him. your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second, and he has to fight the urge to surge forward and close the distance, to greedily claim your mouth with his own.

"want you to keep going, please." there's an air of desperation to your voice now, and it nearly causes him to groan.

who was he to tell you no when you asked so nicely?

he noses along your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, cherry and vanilla — his absolute favorite.

he stays like that for a moment before his lips are on your skin, trailing soft kisses down to your shoulder, stopping once they reach the strap of your nightgown. as much as he wants to just rip the damn thing off of you, he's determined to take his time with you, to show you how beautiful you look when you fall apart for him.

you watch in the mirror as he reaches up, slowly pulling the strap down your shoulder, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze.

he kisses his way back up your neck, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste you, before moving to your other shoulder. ever the tease, he toys with the strap, clearly in no rush. but before you can get impatient, he slides it down, the action causing your nightgown to drop.

the silk fabric pools at your hips, leaving the top half of your body completely exposed. you try to turn your head, try to avert your gaze from the mirror, but sylus doesn't let you. he wasn't going to let you hide. not this time.

"ah, ah, i want you to watch." he reprimands softly, hand coming up to grip your chin, guiding your shy eyes back to the mirror. "don't make me tell you again, kitten." he whispers darkly, his authoritative tone sending heat straight to your core.

heat flares on your cheeks as you stare at yourself, your embarrassment still evident, but you don't look away. the two of you lock eyes in the mirror, and he can't help but smirk.

"look at you," he breathes, voice laced with a hint of awe. his hands slide down to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. he takes it as a sign to keep going.

"so pretty, baby. so soft, too, fuck." he hisses, his grip on you briefly tightening, like he's struggling to hold onto the remnants of his self control.

and in complete truth, he is. the sight of you, flushed and wanting, desperately seeking his approval, is doing more to him than he originally thought it would.

one of his hands travels further down your body while the other comes up to caress your jaw, thumb teasing at your bottom lip, a silent demand.

you obediently part your lips, taking the digit into your mouth, tongue swirling around it to taste him. he rewards you with a soft groan, the sound adding to the wetness between your thighs.

almost as if he senses your growing neediness, the hand that was resting on your stomach grabs ahold of your nightgown, pulling it down the rest of the way. he tosses it across the room, and neither of you bother to see where it went, too occupied with each other to care.

without command, you spread your legs further apart, encouraging him to touch you. what was once embarrassment had now melted into arousal, leaving you more turned on than you would like to admit.

maybe the mirror wasn't such a bad idea after all.

you gasp as his hand cups your clothed cunt, palm applying a delicious pressure to your clit. you can’t resist the urge to grind against it, chasing the small amount of pleasure it offers, greedy for more of it. while sylus doesn’t say anything, you can feel his chest rumble with silent laughter.

“thought you said this was embarrassing? i take it you’ve changed your mind?” he questions, pulling his thumb back from his mouth so you can respond. he wipes your saliva along your chin, smearing the mess into your skin. but you can’t bring yourself to mind, not right now at least.

“mhm,” you say, nodding lazily.

before you can get too carried away, though, he pulls his hand back. you make a noise of protest, already missing his touch, but he gently shushes you.

"patience, kitten," he chides playfully, finding your desperation more amusing than anything else.

he hooks two fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs in one smooth motion. this time, he does groan. the sight of you, wet and wanting, is almost enough to undo him right then and there.

"fuck," he curses lowly, and then he's touching you.

his fingers slide through your folds, gathering your wetness, before settling on your clit. his other hand rests on your thigh, ensuring your legs stay spread while he rubs small circles on the sensitive bud.

he stares at you in the mirror, watching every expression you make, committing it to memory. as much as he wants to drag this out, he also wants to make you cum, just so you can see how pretty you look when you shatter in his arms.

he speeds up his motions, causing you to gasp, your back arching against his chest. it was good, so good, but it wasn't enough.

"sylus," you whine, his name falling from your lips like a plea. you lean back against him, staring up at him with a soft pout. "want more, please. want your fingers," you beg, and he chuckles.

"you have them, sweetie," he presses down harder on your clit, the action causing your hips to jump, which only seems to amuse him more.

tease.

you huff, frustrated. "want them in me, not on me." you say, tone leaving no room for argument.

any other day, he would've made you beg for it, wouldn't have given in so easily. but tonight was supposed to be about you, and he was feeling rather generous, so he decides to indulge you.

"yeah?" he breathes, a teasing lilt to his voice. before you can answer him, he's pushing two fingers into you, pumping them in and out at a fast pace. "want them here, in this messy little cunt?"

"yes!" you mewl, eyes clamping shut as he curls his fingers inside of you, causing them to hit the spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids. he gives your thigh a squeeze, a silent warning, and they flutter open again, gaze returning back to the mirror.

"you have no idea how much i love it when you're like this," he rasps, his breath ghosting across your neck, the sensation making you shiver. his fingers remain relentless as he speaks, leaving you feeling dazed, unable to keep up with what he's saying.

"can feel how much you love it too, kitten. you're dripping everywhere, making a mess all over my pants." he stops talking for a moment, letting you hear just how wet you are. it was obscene, the sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you, but it was also hot.

"my perfect, messy girl." he murmurs, his voice more affectionate now. "so fucking perfect." he punctuates his words with a kiss to your shoulder, gently sucking on the skin to leave a mark behind.

it was all too much. his fingers, the sight of yourself in the mirror, the praise. you couldn't take it for much longer.

"close," you gasp out, unable to form a coherent sentence. the heat in your stomach, the pressure between your hips, was utterly overwhelming, but you still found yourself seeking out more. you just needed one last thing to push you over the edge, that was it.

"i know, kitten. i can feel it," he grunts, fingers continuing the same relentless pace inside of you, palm pressing against your clit. "squeezing me so fucking tight. go on, then, make a mess on my fingers." he encourages, sucking another mark onto your skin. it's enough to have you seizing up, body pulled taut like a bow string, ready to be released.

when his teeth sink into your flesh, you're sent over the edge.

you cum with a broken cry of his name. your thighs shake from the intensity of your orgasm, but he continues to fuck you through it, unrelenting. he doesn't stop until you're whimpering, until every last drop of pleasure has been milked from your body.

when you reach down, fingers curling around his wrist as you weakly attempt to push him away, he relents. he gently pulls his fingers out of you, pressing a kiss to your neck when you whimper at the sudden loss.

"so good for me, sweetheart." he praises, eyes soft with an affection that was reserved only for you as he stares down at you, taking in your content expression.

you practically beam at the praise, tilting your head to press a kiss to his lips. his clean hand slides up to cup your jaw, using it as leverage to deepen the kiss, his tongue licking into your mouth to taste you.

the brief satisfaction your orgasm gave you doesn't last for long. the heat in your core flares back to life, desperate for his touch once again.

you're shifting in his lap, trying to turn to face him, when you feel it.

his cock presses against the curve of your ass, hard and wanting, the fabric of his pants doing little to contain it. you let out a soft moan into his mouth, grinding down on his hardness just to hear him groan in response.

reluctantly, he pulls back from the kiss. he's breathless, eyes wild and dark with want when he asks, "think you can give me a few more?"

and who were you to deny him?

notes: i actually loved writing this it was so fun, had me giggling and kicking my feet a little bit. sorry (not) for edging you guys at the end </3 i might write a pt.2 if this gets any attention

#edenwrites #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus #sylus smut #love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace x reader

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jeansdoll · 1 day ago

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sylus’ rough hands grip your hips tight, thrusting into you teasingly slow as he has you bent over the fancy bathroom’s countertop, hiking up your delicate black dress just above the mound of your ass.

you bite down on your bottom lip hard, attempting to keep in any sound that threatens to slip through — avoiding suspicions from any buyer who happens to walk past the room.

your face flushes, only hearing his low, heavy breaths and the lewd sound of your wet cunt sucking him in completely, turning you on even more.

you didn't want people to know how well sylus was stretching you out, he’s practically moulding your pussy to the shape of him. but it feels so good. and unlike you, he’s revelling in your efforts to try to stay quiet.

the movement of his hips rolling into yours pick up the pace, and with a smirk plastered across his face, sylus watches your eyes screw shut through the mirror in front of you. god, you look so pretty like this.

your lip leaves its trapped position between your teeth, mouth involuntarily falling open as his cock slides deeper and deeper into your warm pussy, hands hastily trying to grip at something on the cold marble beneath you for stability.

your walls clench around him, his cock kissing that spot within you that had your vision blurring. pleasure increasing with every single thrust.

“hah.. fuck, sy-“

without hesitation, sylus is quick to cover your mouth. although he loved seeing you struggle, no one else deserved to hear your pretty moans.

effortlessly, he lifts you up, pressing your back against his front, maintaining the toe-curling rhythm. you’re forced to watch your vulnerable, fucked out state in the reflection, while catching a glimpse of sylus’ half-lidded red eyes staring right back at you.

“keep the noise down, sweetie.”

he leans down to your height, face next to yours, lips merely a few inches away from your ear as you feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“wouldn't want anyone to hear us now, would you?”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut #lads sylus #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #sylus x you

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qinche-cvmslvt · 3 days ago

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Forbidden

Content Warning: NSFW, MDNI, fluff, romance, taboo, Professor Sylus, AU Sylus. Slow burn, sexual and emotional tension. Power dynamic relationships.

Summary: You’re in your final years of schooling. Sweet and freshly 18, Professor Sylus has always made you feel something. But you feel it more now that you’re an “adult”. Perhaps, there’s more to this connection than meets the eye?

A/N: Helloooo, yes I have a problem but I love this concept and I’ve been wanting a professor Sylus fic for a very long time. I am collabing with my sister. She’s a seasoned Kpop fanfic writer hahahah. Anyways, don’t freak out. Every main character in this fic is at 18 and up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: After Class

The late afternoon sun slanted through the high classroom windows, bathing the rows of desks in a golden haze. You slid into your usual seat near the front, smoothing your skirt and laying out your notebook with steady, practiced movements. Despite your composed exterior, your heart gave a traitorous flutter the moment your gaze found him at the front of the room. Professor Sylus stood with one hand resting on his mahogany desk and the other writing the day’s lesson title on the chalkboard. Dust motes danced in the sunlight around his tall figure. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing toned muscles that flexed subtly with each stroke of chalk.

At 18 years old and in your final year of high school, you were technically an adult – a fact that emboldened and unsettled you all at once. Yet, sitting in Professor Sylus’ classroom, you felt small and young, as if the mere presence of your teacher could lay bare the schoolgirl inside you. You bit your lip and forced your eyes down to your notebook, fighting the heat rising in your cheeks. Get a grip, you chided yourself silently. It was just another literature class, and he was just your English teacher – confident, brooding, and far too mesmerizing for your own good.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Sylus began, his baritone voice easily commanding the murmurs in the room to hush. You dared a glance upward through your lashes. He surveyed the class with calm authority, jewel-like eyes scanning over students with a measured patience. His gaze passed over you briefly, and for a heartbeat your eyes met. A spark – real or imagined – skittered through your chest. Quickly, you looked back to your blank page, your pulse thudding in your ears.

Sylus cleared his throat and turned toward the chalkboard. On it he had written a line from the poem they’d been studying: “…somewhere between right and wrong, there is a garden. I will meet you there.” The quote hung in the air like a daring secret. “Today,” he said, “we continue our discussion on forbidden themes in literature – the allure of crossing lines that society has drawn.” His voice was smooth but there was an undercurrent of intensity when he spoke of the subject, as if the topic resonated with some private part of him.

As he launched into the lesson, you tried to focus on your notes, not on the man delivering the lecture. Your pen scribbled dutifully, but your attention drifted to him in spite of yourself. Professor Sylus moved with a restrained energy, pacing slowly in front of the chalkboard. The afternoon light caught in his crimson eyes when he turned just so, making them gleam. There was a certain heaviness to his brow – a brooding intensity that made him appear deep in thought even as he taught. He was relatively young for a teacher – you guessed not much older than thirty – and there was a vitality in the way he spoke that held the class rapt.

“Can anyone tell me what the poet might mean by that line?” he asked, tapping the chalk gently under the quote he’d written. His gaze traveled across the room expectantly. A few students shifted in their seats, avoiding eye contact. You knew the class well enough to predict that silence would follow; most were either too indifferent or too intimidated to volunteer an interpretation.

You inhaled quietly, gathering your nerve. This was your favorite subject, and despite the tremor of nerves around you, you couldn’t resist engaging – if only to impress him. Lifting your eyes, you found Sylus already looking your way, as if he anticipated you might speak. The thought sent a little thrill through you.

You raised your hand. “It’s about a place beyond judgment,” you said when he nodded for you to answer. Your voice came out softer than you intended, and you swallowed and continued more clearly. “The poet is saying that outside of right and wrong – beyond the rules and expectations – there’s a space where two people can truly be together. A… a secret meeting place, free from consequence.”

As you spoke, Sylus’ expression shifted almost imperceptibly. The stern line of his mouth eased, and the slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Something warm flickered in his eyes – pride? admiration? – that made your chest tighten.

“Very good,” he said, and that rich voice of his wrapped around the praise in a way that felt personal. “A thoughtful interpretation.” His gaze held yours a second longer than it needed to. In that moment, the rest of the class might as well have not existed.

Your cheeks burned at his approval. You managed a faint smile back before looking down again, hiding behind a curtain of your hair. You could still feel the weight of his eyes on you for a moment more, and the knowledge sent a sweet, forbidden thrill through your veins.

While Professor Sylus went on to elaborate on the poem’s historical context, you dared to steal another glance. He had turned away to address the rest of the class, but there was a new tension in his posture – a stiffness in his shoulders, as if your answer had affected him too. He ran a hand through his silver hair, the fingers briefly tugging in a gesture that might have been subconscious. For an instant, you allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like to run your own fingers through that hair, to soothe whatever turmoil made him look so distant and haunted when he thought no one was watching. The fantasy was as intoxicating as it was inappropriate, and you banished it with a quick shake of your head. Your braid brushed against your neck, grounding you back in reality.

Minutes passed, and you diligently copied down the notes Sylus put up on the board, punctuating them with a few stolen looks in his direction. Each time, your eyes seemed to find some new detail to fixate on: the way the veins in his forearm stood out when he gripped a book to read a passage aloud; the precise cut of his jawline; or the way his voice gentled when he recited a particularly poignant line from the text. There was such passion and nuance in his teaching that you found yourself entranced, hanging on to every word despite the turmoil of attraction stirring inside you.

At one point, as he circulated around the room to check on the students’ annotations, Sylus approached your desk. You straightened your spine, heart drumming. He stopped beside you, close enough that you became hyperaware of his presence—the faint scent of cedar and spice from his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body.

“Do you see how the second stanza reinforces that idea?” he asked softly, leaning down to glance at your open textbook. His face was suddenly much nearer to yours, and you hoped he couldn’t hear how loudly your heart was pounding.

“Y-yes,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. The air between you felt charged. As you shifted slightly, your shoulder lightly grazed his arm. The contact was barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity across your skin. You froze, and so did he.

Sylus drew in a slow breath, his gaze flickering to you. Time seemed to slow in that small moment of accidental touch. You dared to meet his eyes. Up close they were an endless crimson sea, stormy with something unspoken. His jaw tightened as if he was waging some internal battle. Then he straightened, politely putting a safe distance between you once more.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. His tone was steady, betraying nothing, but his adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Keep up the good work.”

You nodded silently, and he moved on, continuing his rounds. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your hand trembled slightly as you underlined a phrase in your book, attempting to appear engrossed in the text while your mind raced. Had you imagined that intensity in his eyes? The way he’d gone still when you touched? Don’t be ridiculous, you tell yourself. He’s your teacher. He was just making sure you understood.

But no matter how you tried to dismiss it, you couldn’t shake the memory of that brief flash in his gaze – like a wild, caged thing peering out. It made your stomach flutter with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

By the time the lesson drew to an end, the sun had deepened to a warm orange, and long shadows stretched across the floor. Sylus returned to the front to wrap up, assigning a short reflection on the poem for homework. The shrill ring of the final bell for the day made several students jump up eagerly, the spell of the class broken as backpacks were slung over shoulders.

You closed your notebook slowly, reluctant for this enchanted, torturous hour to end. Around you, classmates chatted as they filtered out of the room, their sneakers squeaking on the polished linoleum. Normally you would be rushing off as well, joining the after-school buzz in the halls. But today, you lingered, pretending to carefully organize your papers as your mind raced with an idea – or rather, an excuse.

Sylus busied himself at the teacher’s desk as the students departed, stacking essays neatly and wiping a stray chalk smudge from his fingers. His movements were measured, outwardly as composed as ever. Inside, however, his thoughts were anything but calm. Throughout the class he had maintained his usual professional demeanor by sheer force of will, yet now that he was alone… well, almost alone… he exhaled slowly, releasing a tension he hadn’t fully acknowledged until this moment.

He risked a glance upward through his dark lashes. One student remained, hovering at her desk near the front – you. He immediately felt his pulse kick up in response, an unwelcome surge of awareness. She should go, he told himself firmly. Being alone with a student after class was unwise under any circumstance, and with this particular young woman it was downright dangerous to his hard-won self-control.

Sylus had noticed you the very first week he started teaching at Linkon High. How could he not? You were bright, attentive, and disarmingly sincere in your love of literature – a rarity that had drawn his interest initially on a purely intellectual level. But then there were the other things: the way your smile lit up your eyes when you grasped a concept, or the soft tuck of hair behind your ear as you concentrated. Little details that had etched themselves into his mind against his better judgment.

He had brushed off his fascination as simple pride in a star student, nothing more. He was your teacher, after all. Lines existed for a reason, and he was determined never to cross them.

Yet today, when you had given your interpretation of the poem… something in your voice, earnest and a touch vulnerable, had struck a chord in him. Your words about a place beyond right and wrong had felt directed at him in ways you couldn’t possibly know. In that moment, he’d almost forgotten where they were. He had looked at you and seen not just a diligent student but a young woman on the cusp of adulthood – an adult, he reminded himself, albeit a very young one under his care. The realization had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

And then that brief contact – your shoulder brushing his arm – even now he could recall the heat of it. It was nothing, a pure accident, and yet it had set his nerves alight. For the rest of the class he’d struggled to keep his focus on the lesson and not on the memory of how close you’d been, how your perfume—something subtle, with cherry or floral—had left him slightly lightheaded.

Now, as the last of the other students slipped out the door, Sylus forced himself to appear at ease. Calm and collected, he reminded himself, like it meant nothing. With a quiet click, he capped his pen and slid the graded papers into his leather briefcase. Any second now, you would head out as well, and he would be safe to breathe normally again.

But instead of the expected sound of your retreating footsteps, he heard your voice, gentle and hesitant,

“Professor Sylus? Can I ask you something?”

Sylus’s hand paused on the briefcase buckle. He lifted his eyes to find you standing a few paces from his desk, notebook clutched to your chest. Most of your classmates had already disappeared into the hall, leaving an expectant quiet in their wake. The overhead lights were off, and only the honeyed dusk light from the windows illuminated the space, casting half of Sylus’s face in shadow and half in soft, gold light.

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at you, taking in the sight. You looked nervous, biting the corner of your lip in that way he’d come to recognize whenever you were grappling with a thought. The warm glow of sunset danced in your eyes. Why did it feel like the air between you was charged again, now even more intensely than during that fleeting touch?

He cleared his throat, reminding himself to speak. “Of course,” he replied, his tone measured. He leaned back against the edge of his desk to appear relaxed, crossing his arms loosely. “What do you need help with?”

You stepped forward into the aisle between desks, closer by a cautious half-step. You, your mind whispered traitorously. I need you. You banished the illicit thought and drew a slow breath. “It’s about the poem,” you began, willing your voice to sound steady. “Something you said about forbidden themes… it got me thinking.”

In truth, you hadn’t really needed clarification on the lesson – he had been very clear, as always. But the idea of walking out that door felt unbearable when a hundred unspoken questions and feelings swirled inside of you. This was your chance to linger in his presence just a little longer, to maybe confirm if you'd imagined the connection you thought you felt. Even if all you got was a few more minutes of conversation with him, it would be worth it.

Sylus nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Which part are you wondering about?”

You came a step closer, until you were right in front of him, the desk between them the only barrier. You set your notebook down atop his desk, open to the page of notes you'd taken. It took all your willpower to keep your hand from trembling. “Here,” you pointed to a bulletpoint in your careful handwriting. “You mentioned how, in literature, forbidden relationships often serve to challenge societal norms. I was just… well, I was curious if you think the writers romanticize those relationships. Do they make it seem more attractive because it’s forbidden?”

Your question hung in the air. In the quiet that followed, you heard the ticking of the classroom clock on the wall, counting the seconds of silence.

Sylus regarded you thoughtfully. He knew literature theory well enough to answer in academic terms – to talk about narrative devices and the human fascination with taboo. Yet as he gazed at your earnest face, framed by a stray beam of golden light, the purely academic answer didn’t seem to be the one caught in his throat. Instead, what came out was a gentle counter-question.

“What do you think?”

You hadn’t expected that. A soft breath escaped you. He often turned questions back on students to encourage critical thinking, but right now the way he asked felt different – almost personal. His voice was lower now, almost intimate in the quiet room. Was it your imagination, or had he inched just a little closer over the desk?

Your fingers fiddled with the spiral binding of your notebook as you gathered your courage. “I think…” you began slowly, searching for words that wouldn’t betray the full depth of what you felt. “I think authors do make it attractive. The risk, the secrecy… it adds excitement.” Your throat felt dry, and you pressed on. “When something is forbidden, maybe it makes every small moment, every glance or touch, feel more meaningful. Because you know it could be taken away.”

As you spoke, your eyes remained locked on the open notebook, tracing the indented lines of your writing rather than looking up at him. It felt safer to voice such things to a page than directly to Sylus’ face. Even so, your heart hammered at your own boldness. You were no longer talking strictly about poems or novels, and you both knew it.

There was a brief rustle, and you realized Sylus had moved. Gently, he reached out and closed your notebook, his long fingers resting for a moment on the cover just beside your own hand. You froze at the proximity – his knuckles only inches from your skin. Your gaze lifted on instinct, drawn by the magnetic presence of him.

Sylus’ eyes met yours, and you saw it again – that flicker of conflict, of heat, carefully restrained behind a composed mask. The dying daylight outlined the strong planes of his face, but his eyes were soft as they searched yours. “Literature isn’t the only place where that happens,” he said quietly. “Sometimes real life mirrors the stories.”

Your breath caught. The desk suddenly felt like an insignificant separator; the space between them crackled with something unspoken. Did he mean… could he possibly be referring to the two of you?

You tried to speak and found your voice had fled. In the silence, your uncertainty must have shown in your face, because Sylus’ expression gentled further. He seemed to be choosing his next words with great care.

“What I mean is,” he continued, tone still soft, “there’s a reason readers are drawn to those stories. A reason we sometimes find ourselves…” He paused, as if debating how frank to be. His gaze flickered down to their hands – his still resting near yours on the closed notebook – and then back up. “…drawn to things we know we can’t have.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There it was – the spark, the admission veiled in careful words but so plainly there. The world seemed to narrow until it was just him and you in that dim classroom, the air thick with everything you weren’t saying. You felt a flush rise in your cheeks and didn’t know if it was from joy, fear, or the dizzying combination of both.

“Sylus…” you whispered, his name slipping out before you could stop yourself. The familiarity of using just his first name hung between them. You weren't even sure why you said it – perhaps to confirm that this was real, that this was him speaking and not a beautiful daydream conjured by your hopeful mind.

At the sound of his name on your lips, something in Sylus broke subtly – his carefully maintained distance wavered. His hand inched forward just a little more, fingertips almost, almost brushing the back of your hand. He caught himself at the last second and withdrew slightly, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead.

“This…,” he said, so softly it was almost a breath. The single syllable carried a world of meaning. He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

You both knew what he meant: this connection, this delicate, dangerous tension humming between you. Acknowledging it was risky, but in that stolen moment neither of you looked away.

Your lips parted, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. You could scarcely believe this was happening – that the longing you'd harbored might not be one-sided. He feels it too… The realization lit you up from the inside. It also terrified you. He is the one person you aren't supposed to want, and the only person you desperately did.

Outside in the hallway, a locker slammed shut, jolting you back to reality. The distant chatter of students reminded you both of where you were – teacher and student, standing on the edge of a line that, once crossed, could change everything.

Sylus drew back slightly, straightening. A shadow of regret passed over his face as the spell between you broke, but the tenderness remained. He lowered his voice, though there was no one else to hear: “You should head home,” he said gently. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded, realizing suddenly how close you had leaned in toward him. You hadn’t even noticed your own body swaying nearer, drawn like a moth to a flame. Flushing, you stepped back, clutching your notebook to anchor yourself. “Right. Of course.”

He walked you to the classroom door, a careful distance between you now. Your mind was still reeling at what had just passed between you—subtle and yet undeniable. At the threshold, you turned back to face him. The corridor behind you was nearly empty now, just a straggler or two heading for the exits. In here, in the golden half-light, Sylus stood with one hand braced on the doorframe, looking down at you with an expression you could only describe as conflicted longing.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” you said softly. It felt like an inadequate thing to say after everything, but it was all your overwhelmed mind could supply.

A faint smile touched his lips. “Anytime,” he replied. “You know you can always come to me if you need help.” There was a quiet emphasis on those last words, as if they held layers of meaning. His dark eyes flickered with the warmth of an unspoken promise before he masked it with a polite smile.

You clutched your books to your chest a little tighter. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Your voice wavered, and you couldn’t help the small smile that slipped through, hope and anxiety warring in your chest.

Sylus nodded, but just as you were about to turn, he spoke again, voice low and earnest. “Wait.”

You paused, heart leaping into your throat. “Yes?”

For a moment he hesitated, as though walking right up to the edge of that line again. His gaze held yours, steady and searching. Say something, part of you pleaded silently. Admit you feel it too.

“I—” He stopped himself, then tried again, his words measured. “I just want you to be careful.”

Your brow knit in confusion. Was he scolding you? Warning you about staying late at school? Or was there a deeper meaning? “…Careful?” You echoed softly.

Sylus’ jaw tensed, and he let out a slow breath. His next words came out barely above a whisper, meant only for you: “This is uncharted territory. If we’re not careful, someone could get hurt.”

It was both a caution and a confession. He was acknowledging that something was indeed happening between you, even as he tried to protect you both from it. The weight of his words—and the vulnerability in them—hung in the air.

You felt a sting of emotion in your chest, a mix of reassurance and ache. Reassurance that you hadn’t imagined everything; ache that he was already pulling back into propriety. “I understand,” you whispered, your throat tight. “We’ll be careful.”

Silence settled again. His hand still rested on the doorframe, just above your head now. The way he loomed there was not threatening at all—in fact, you felt shielded, cocooned in the alcove of the doorway with him so close. His gaze traced over your face as if committing it to memory.

Then Sylus inclined his head in a slight nod. The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, more an expression of gentle resolve. “Good night,” he said softly at last. There was a slight hesitation, as if he’d been about to say more.

You caught that tiny falter—had he almost said your name? The thought sent a warmth fluttering in your stomach.

“Good night, Professor Sylus,” You replied, equally soft. Your fingers lingered on the door for a second, unwilling to break the last bit of eye contact between you. His eyes looked almost black in the dim light, and they were filled with so many things you wished you could decipher.

Finally, you forced yourself to step out into the hall. The spell had to be broken for now. With every stride down the corridor, your body felt lighter and more heated all at once, as if you were walking on air while adrenaline thrummed in your veins.

Before turning the corner, you glanced back one last time. Sylus was still there in the doorway, watching you go. The golden light behind him cast him in silhouette, but you could see the outline of his broad shoulders, the slight tilt of his head. You wondered what he was thinking in that inscrutable moment.

Hidden in the shadows, Sylus allowed himself a single, forbidden indulgence: he smiled – just a faint curve of his lips – as he watched you disappear around the corner. The empty hallway echoed with the fading sound of your footsteps. He let his head rest back against the doorframe and closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling a breath he felt he’d been holding all day.

What are you doing, Sylus? he chastised himself silently, even as that ghost of a smile lingered. His heart was still thudding in his chest. He knew this was dangerous ground – more dangerous than anything he’d ever felt. But the way you had looked at him, the way your voice trembled with hope… it made him feel alive in a way he’d nearly forgotten.

He would have to keep his distance, he told himself firmly—for both their sakes. Yet as he switched off the lights and darkness fell over the empty classroom, Sylus realized he was already counting the hours until he would see you again.

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