#sylus x fem!reader smut

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆ 

Chapter 4, Raw, next question

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8 k

Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Here we go babes! I hope ya'll like it. I am going to be very busy this weekend and part of next week, so I'll leave ya'll with this for the upcoming few days. Lots of love <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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It's not like you to forget about watching a Red Crow video, but it totally slipped your mind after Tara started suggesting different single guys to you. Seems like she's known Sylus for a while and isn't stoked about the idea of you liking him. For some reason, that gets you going even more. 

Sure, could be that he is a disturbed individual, but you figure it has more to do with his cold demeanor. It almost sounded like she was talking you out of talking to him again after her offer to give him your number. Almost like she suddenly remembered something. Could it be that she also knows about what he does? If that's the case, she's less innocent that you thought she was. 

Either way, she kept you busy until there was a knock at the door and you realized it was already 2 am. No wonder you had been getting sleepy. 'I'll get it,' you offer, you brain fried once more but this time the sleepiness is to blame. Tara giggles in response. 

You expected Kieran to come knocking so that Tara could drive him home. Instead, Sylus leans over you once more when you open the door, one hand on the top of the doorframe the other in his pocket. He's incredibly close, closer than one normally is when knocking on someone's door. Is he doing this on purpose?  

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hang around him like a cloud, mixing in with his cologne to create the most intoxicating smell you've ever smelled. His shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it was before and there's a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You figure he's drunk or close to drunk. 

But then he speaks, and he sounds stone cold sober: 'Hey, can you tell Tara Kieran is sleeping over. He is in no state to move.' 

'What happened to “taking it easy”,' Tara shouts from the couch. Sylus stands up a little straighter, removing his hand from the doorframe, and looking over top of me to Tara on the couch. He grins slyly. 

'Nothing we haven't done before.' She hops off the couch and rushes over, looking slightly agitated. 

'Sylus, that can refer anywhere from a gross shot to LSD,' she snaps at him. He leans down over her like he just had with me. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and it almost looks like her hair is puffing up like an angry cat. Suddenly, you understand why she might've wanted to curb your interest in Sylus but the teasing tone that slips from his lips so easily gets you fucking going. Without really noticing it, you bite your lip for no more than a second while your thighs rub together. 

He notices though. His eyes flicker over to you for just a second and his grin widens ever so slightly. 'No drugs. I quit that stuff. He's just very drunk.' Tara groans. 'You can check if you want.' 

'I will,' she snaps as she pushes past the two of you and quickly disappears into Sylus’ apartment. 

And suddenly, you are harshly reminded what happened the last time you and Sylus were alone. Reminded of that video that you still haven't fully watched. The first few seconds are engraved in your memory. Sylus, completely dressed with his hand slowly rubbing over the tent in his pants, low groans leaving his lips. 

When you look up at him again, you swear he knows exactly what's going on in your mind. There's that sly grin on his lips again. 'Having a fun night?' 

'Oh, fuck you,' you groan, and feel yourself puff up like Tara had as you cross your arms with an annoyed expression on your face. If he knows, you might as well cuss him out for it. He deserves as much, and he seems to like it as a rich laugh slips from his lips. 

He leans even closer, still towering over you with his eyes focused on yours. You feel your cheeks and ears heat up like you've just shoved your head against a space heather. 'You know who I am,' he states. You can almost feel your attitude melt like snow thrown on a fire as you nod.  

'You know what I do,' his voice is gravely, low, seductive. He's enjoying this. You nod again. No more snow, only fire. Fire in your loins and in your fucking ovaries. You are going to burst. He moves in even closer. 

'Use your words, sweetie.' One of his two signature pet names for his audience. Your panties are soaked, your blood is boiling, and your attitude is back. Because, if he keeps this going, you two will be down and dirty right here in your doorway. Ain't no way you're letting Tara see you in that state. 

'Back the fuck up before I jump your bones.' Maybe you should've just said the first part. His confidence wafers for a second before he realizes what you mean. He’s even closer now, his lips next to your ear, voice barely above a whisper. 

'Did you like what you did to me?' 

'Kieran is passed out,' Tara loudly announces before peaking her head around the corner. Before she can, Sylus moves back and crosses his arms, looking like he's bored out of his mind while you are bright red in the face. 'Sylus, help me get him in the car. We have plans tomorrow.' 

'Yes ma’am.' 

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3 am. The world outside is quiet, just like Sylus likes it. Kieran was a real pain to get in the car but at least he gets to listen to some records on his own now. Luke had left long before but Kieran always sticks. Sylus can only hope he'll be awake enough to walk into Tara's apartment when they get there. 

Today had been interesting to say the least. He hasn't been this risky in a long time, teasing someone who clearly knows who he is. Could be a very awkward situation in the future if she ever grows over her lust for him, but for now he's fine. This could be a fun little game between the two of them. No one else needs to know, but what if he just films his content after he's seen her. Like how he did today. 

Short conversation, make a video wearing what she saw him in, turn her on so he can listen to her sweet little moans pierce through the thin walls. He does need to keep his schedule though, otherwise it'd be too suspicious. On the other hand, no one would complain about an extra video occasionally. 

The soft thud of the needle bumping off his record pulls Sylus out of his trance. The room is suddenly awfully silent. Then, he hears it. 

The softest of whimpers. 

He turns off the record player and walks into his room curiously. The sound is coming from the air extractor fan in the bathroom, just as it had this afternoon. The shower isn't running and your noises sound farther away, so it's possible that you're in your bedroom with the bathroom door open. 

"Is she doing this on purpose," Sylus questions as he stands in the middle of his bathroom, listening to the sounds you make while his dick starts to strain against his pants. "Would she hear it if I did the same thing?" 

His curiosity quickly gets the better of him. Just for good measure, he quickly sets up his phone to record on top of the toilet reservoir and presses record. Then, he moves to lean against the sink cabinet, his head thrown back as he rubs over the fabric of his pants, just as he had this afternoon. 

He hears a particularly lewd moan and prays to the gods above his phone picked the sound up. His hand moves to his zipper and he undoes himself skillfully and fast. He takes his dick out of his boxers, not bothering to take his pants off. It's hard as a fucking rock and already leaking with just those little sounds. 

"What is this woman doing to me?"  

Lazily, he starts stroking his dick. Soft groans and moans slipping from his lips, suppressed in an attempt to still hear you through the vents. Then the prettiest picture slips into his mind. 

You, laying on your back in his bed, naked. Heels planted on his mattress, legs spread, hands lazily pulling on the hair on the back of his head. That beautiful blush on your cheeks, looking desperate and longing for release while he drives his length into you. The little sounds you make, so much louder when he's this close, so much more beautiful. Your eyes focused on him and only him. 

His hand starts moving faster, chocking his dick ever so slightly while his other hand grips the sink, knuckles turning white. An animalistic sound leaves his throat, a sound he's never made before. Something like a chocked growl. 

God, that image. He'd lean in closer, wrap his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders while your nails leave trails on his back. One of his hands would leave your body, move to your little bud of nerves to help you reach ecstasy. 

Another growl leaves his throat, louder this time. He's getting so close after so little time. Is this really all because of you? Because some pretty girl showed interest in him? He's not sure, but the picture in his mind keeps getting more and more realistic. His eyes screw closed, head leaning forward now, his breathing heavy. 

He'd sit down on his heels, pull you onto his lap and hold you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. Your pretty little moans would get louder, would morph into his name so beautifully strewn out on your tongue, barely recognizable to anyone but him. And you'd bite his collarbone. The pain and pleasure of the whole thing tipping him over the edge, his hands bruising your skin, serving you the same mixture to help you fall into the abyss with him. 

Hot ropes of cum lay on the tiles in front of Sylus while he tries to catch his breath. He doesn't hear your voice anymore, so you must be done as well. 

"What the hell just happened?" 

He steadies himself and grabs his phone from the toilet reservoir, stopping the recording. Before he can throw the thing to the side again, he gets a notification on his video from this afternoon. When he opens it, the name and profile picture look awfully familiar. It's you, there's no denying it. His lips pull into a grin when he reads your comment. 

"Raw, next question." 

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[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Hmmmm...Did you write the LNDS men of "How their lovemaking look like"? If not, what is their kind of lovemaking look like? Is it rough and passionate, sensual and intimate with a deeper connection?

໒꒱ ₊˚ THEIR LOVEMAKING ?!

❧ warnings : fem!reader. nsfw/smut, p*ssy drunk men, biting & marking, creampie, manhandling, mild degradation, non-stop s*x size kink & difference and Xavier is a freak in his part.

❧ note : i was waiting for someone to send me an ask like this. ily.

．𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 — 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒹ℯ𝓋ℴ𝓊𝓇ℯ𝓇.

Sylus doesn’t just fuck—he consumes. His desire is a bottomless pit, insatiable and overwhelming, and he buries himself in them like he’s trying to lose himself completely. His cock forces you open, stretching your pussy around his girth, thrusting in deep, slow, intentional. He makes you feel every inch, dragging against their walls until your gasping, shuddering, their body betraying you as you squeeze down on him.

His grip is unyielding. Fingers digging into their hips, forcing you still, holding them in place while he watches your body react, burning the sight into his memory. He wants to hear you break—hear the way your moans crack, the way you beg without meaning to. He feeds off of it. His mouth is on you constantly, sucking marks onto your throat, biting your shoulder, tongue lapping at the sweat beading on your skin.

His voice is a low rasp against your ear, rough, strained—“Take it. Let me feel you.” Not a command. A demand. His thrusts grow rougher, deeper, hips snapping against theirs with force, the wet sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the dimly lit room. He’s lost in you, drunk off the way your pussy clenches around him, milking his cock, pulling him in like you don’t want him to leave.

And he won’t. Even when he fills you, pumping you full with thick, hot cum, Sylus doesn’t pull out. He stays inside, cock still throbbing, stretching you open, keeping you full. His breath is ragged, lips brushing against your temple as he murmurs, “I need more.”

And then he starts moving again.

．𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 －𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓅𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ 𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒸ℯ.

Caleb fucks like he fights—mercilessly, all-consuming, and without hesitation. He doesn't slow down, doesn't ease you into it. The moment he's inside, stretching your pussy around his cock, it's over. His thrusts are rough and fast, forcing you to take him, knocking the breath from your lungs with every snap of his hips. He’s big, and he makes sure you feel it—feel the way he splits you open, fills you so deep your legs shake from the sheer intensity of it.

He holds nothing back. His grip on your thighs is bruising as he keeps them spread, keeping you wide open for him, helpless beneath his relentless pace. There's no escape, no chance to catch your breath. His cock pounds into you, dragging against your walls with each brutal thrust, every stroke sending another shock of pleasure straight to your core. You’re shaking, overstimulated, but Caleb doesn’t stop—not until he’s gotten his fill.

His voice is low, breathless, rasping against your skin as he leans down, pinning you beneath his weight. “You can take it. Don’t run from me.” His teeth graze your neck before he bites down, hard, leaving marks, staking his claim in a way that makes your body clench around him. The second he feels it, he laughs, a rough, breathy sound against your ear—like he knew you couldn’t resist him.

His cock twitches inside you, driving in deeper, faster, harder. His body tenses, muscles straining as he slams into you with one final thrust, spilling inside, filling you up with thick, hot cum. But even then, he doesn't pull out. Doesn't move. Just stays there, cock still throbbing inside you, making sure every last drop stays right where he put it.

Caleb presses his forehead against yours, breath still heavy, his fingers tightening around your hips as if daring you to move. Then, with a smirk and a rough kiss against your lips, he murmurs—“We’re not done.”

And just like that, he starts again.

． 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 － 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝑔ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓇ℴ𝓇.

Zayne makes love like he’s savoring every second, like he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. His touch is firm but tender, guiding your body with ease, making sure you’re comfortable, worshiped, and wanted. He kisses you slowly, deeply, taking his time as he slides his cock inside you, stretching you open inch by inch until you’re completely full. He groans softly against your lips, feeling the way your walls flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size. “You feel perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, as if he’s already drunk off the feeling of you.

His pace is slow at first, deliberate—he wants you to feel everything, to savor every drag of his cock against your walls, every inch sinking deeper, pressing into spots that make your breath hitch. His hands roam your body, tracing your curves, holding you close, making sure you never slip away from him. He watches every reaction, memorizing the way your lips part, the way your back arches, how your fingers clutch at him like you need him.

“Look at me,” he breathes against your cheek, his fingers tangling with yours, pressing your hands down beside your head. His thrusts grow deeper, hitting the spot that makes you tremble, makes soft moans spill from your lips. His forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours, lost in the moment. He’s passionate but controlled, making love to you like he has all the time in the world—as if nothing else exists beyond this.

As your pleasure builds, his movements grow more desperate, his breathing heavier, his control slipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, chasing the feeling of being as close to you as possible. His grip on your hands tightens, his lips brushing against your skin as he groans, “I need to feel you come around me.” And when you do—when your body clenches down on him, trembling beneath him—he follows, his cock pulsing inside you, spilling his warmth deep inside, filling you up completely.

Even after, he doesn’t pull away. He stays buried inside you, holding you close, his lips tracing lazy kisses along your jaw. His voice is a quiet whisper against your ear, full of affection, “I don’t want to let go.”

．𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 － 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇ℯ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓈𝓈 𝒻𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀.

Xavier is a force of nature in bed—wild, eager, and unrestrained. The moment he’s inside you, he’s on fire, driven by an overwhelming desire to pleasure you and himself in equal measure. His hands are all over you, pulling your body close, keeping you right where he wants you as his cock stretches you open, moving with a desperation that only fuels his hunger. His thrusts are fast, almost frantic, as if he’s trying to lose himself in you, as if he needs to feel you swallow him whole.

His voice is thick with need, rough and low as he growls, “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you? You won’t run from me.” The words are almost taunting, daring you to feel the heat of his craving, the way his body demands to be used. He’s demanding in his own way, but there’s a subtle submission beneath it all—a quiet desperation to please you, to make sure you’re as overwhelmed by him as he is by you.

His cock drives into you with relentless force, hitting places that have you gasping, your body shaking under him. He’s rough, no doubt, but it’s more than that—there’s a freakish hunger in the way he fucks, an unhinged need to feel everything. His fingers dig into your skin, his chest pressed against yours, sweat slicking your bodies together as his hips snap faster, harder, chasing that edge, pulling you with him.

When he feels you starting to unravel beneath him, he loves it. His mouth finds your neck, biting down on your skin as he whispers, “Fuck, you’re perfect. You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop.” His voice cracks as he groans, the desperation in his tone almost needy, like he’s begging for more, begging you to let him ruin you.

Xavier isn’t afraid to let go of control, but when he does, it’s a complete submission. As he comes inside you, hot and thick, he falls apart with a moan, his cock twitching, pumping every last drop into you, feeling the tremors rattle through his body. And then, when he’s done, he doesn’t pull away—he collapses against you, panting, soft, his head buried in the crook of your neck, whispering, “I’ll always let you take control. Just... fuck, you’re too good.”

He’s not afraid to let you see his vulnerability, even in the aftermath of that primal need.

．𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 －𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝒻𝓊𝓁 ℴ𝓃ℯ.

Rafayel is the kind of lover who turns the bedroom into a playground, not taking things too seriously but still knowing exactly how to make you melt. He’s a bit of a goof, always with a wide grin on his face, as if he’s just as excited to have you as you are to have him. His cock isn’t the biggest, but the way he uses it is pure fun—enthusiastic and eager, every thrust coming with a playful, almost mischievous energy.

He’s not smooth—no, that’s not his thing. He fumbles a little as he tries to position you just right, his hands a little too clumsy, but it only adds to his charm. “Wait, wait... Okay, hold on. Got it!” He says, breathless with a chuckle, before finally finding the rhythm. His pace is all over the place at first, but he’s trying so hard, grinning like a fool every time you moan, completely adoring the sounds you make.

His voice is lighthearted, teasing as he looks at you with bright eyes, his breath coming in shallow pants. “Oh, shit, you feel so good. Wait, did I just—oops!”He laughs, a little embarrassed by his own awkwardness, but he doesn’t stop. He really doesn’t stop—he’s just trying to make you feel as good as he does, even if he’s a little clueless about how to do it just right.

His cock slides in and out of you with a goofy grin plastered on his face, his hands holding your hips tightly but not with the roughness of others. His touch is gentle, like he’s treating you like something delicate, though his enthusiasm might suggest otherwise. “You’re so warm... I think I can do better. You ready?” He asks between thrusts, not realizing just how perfectly he’s already making you feel.

There’s something so endearing about his approach—he’s a little bit of a mess, but you can’t help but laugh and enjoy the moment. When he finally comes, his face is flushed, a goofy grin on his lips as he breathes out a satisfied, “That was awesome. I’m a pro, huh?”

Even after, he’s still silly, holding you close, nuzzling your neck. “That was fun, right? We should do that again… maybe with less accidents next time.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[cherryredstarz]

puppy!boy caleb absolutely pounding your pussy

he just can’t help himself—he’s been waiting for this all night. hes been licking your cunt for and hour before you finally give him the okay to put it in

puppy!boy caleb’s big ass dick rubbing your gummy walls, so tight and slick because he can’t stop cumming—poor baby has already orgasmed four times already.

he can’t help being so big—walking around with a fucking monster all the time is exhausting.

puppy!boy caleb who thinks with his dick more than his head, and he just wants to go home (to your pussy) 🥺🥺

[salemwasnteverhere]

How Sylus fucks you when he overstimulates you

A/N: I couldn't resist turning a cold mean man into a slight softie for us :'). If you prefer colder/meaner Sylus then please ignore this post and block me! <3

Tags: Stylus x Reader, reader is not Mc, Fem!Reader, creampie, clit rubbing, praise, use of "sweetie", slight dumbification, sloppy kisses, overstim, slight belly bulge

It was rare for Sylus to be very gentle in bed. Not saying he was aggressive and manhandled you every time, but he wasn't exactly mother Theresa. He usually had a bruising grip on your hips while pounding into you, one hand making it's way to your face, forcing you to watch his face or watch as his cock slid into you.

But then there were the nights where you begged for more, your eyes teary and hips bucking up to antagonize him. He'd give you what you want, slamming his hips back into yours until you fell apart on his cock and your mind practically snapped. He'd be gentle if you asked any night, but it was when you couldn't ask that he did it unprompted.

"There we go, sweetie." He pulled your body against his chest, hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed down and he fucked his cum deeper in. He came three times already, his cum dripping down the base of his cock after it leaked from your cunt.

His right hand slid up your back and he rubbed your hair, kissing your head. "A-ah...Sylus..." You buried your face in his chest, legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned slightly when your nails weakly dug into his back, hitting the scratch marks you left the night prior.

"So needy.." he rolled his hips up into you, smirking at your gasp. His cock hit all the right spots like it was made for you. He sped up slightly, watching as your hips bounced up slightly.

You lean back slightly, putting a little space between your chests. "So hot..." Your voice came out as a small whine, your body slick with sweat. Sylus held onto your waist with one hand as the other slid down from your neck, cupping a breast.

Sylus leaned in and blew cold air onto your neck, making you shiver. He smirked and kissed your neck softly, licking the slick skin. His hips moved slightly faster, his skin slapping against yours.

"Fuck...oh God.." you cry out slightly as he pressed your back against the bed, his hand on your waist holding onto the headboard. "Damn it.." he huffed slightly when you squeezed around him, his eyebrows knitting down.

He bottomed out and went all the way to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix. You cry out and turn your head to the side, clawing at a pillow. His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound mixed in with the already lewd noises of your moans and wet slapping.

You desperately slid your hand down to rub your neglected clit, which earned Sylus slapping your hand away. He pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed it weakly, his gentle touch making you yearn for more.

"Sylus-"

"You can handle it."

He rubbed harder and your toes curled. Your head fell back and a silent scream left you as you came. Sylus groaned when you squirt on his cock, hips squirming like crazy. He grabbed your hips and forced you as close as possible when he came. His balls tightened and you felt his seed pump into you for the third time that night, making your stomach bulge ever so slightly.

A minute later he pulled out with a wet 'shulp', his cock limp and covered with cum and slick. Your eyes were barely open and your whole body trembled. Sylus picked you up and cradled you to his chest, walking over to the large couch in his room.

"You got the bed dirty. Not like I mind. But I need to fix it first." He sat you down on the couch and covered you up with his coat, smiling when you curled up under it. He kissed your head and put on a robe.

You fell asleep before he could even start.

--

Requests are open! :3

[catcze]

NSFW !! 18+ ONLY

Cw afab reader & fem reader, self indulgent so reader is a cat girl w/ cat ears + tail, breeding, impregnation kink, size difference, married couple, giving him a baby for his birthday 👀

Happy birthday, Sylus ! ♡

Sylus, usually, is a man who prefers to make love over fucking. Who likes it slow, sensual— exploring your body with calloused hands and leaving worshipful kisses wherever his lips can reach. There isn't a single inch of your body that hasn't been loved by his kisses and his palms. And usually, Sylus is one who likes to savor each of your moans and the tight clench of your cunt around his cock with slow, languid thrusts before he gently pulls you over the edge with him.

But tonight seems to be an exception.

Each thrust is deep— deep enough to ache deliciously. The broad tip of his cock kisses your cervix without fail, punching the cutest little mewls from your throat, making you hug your pillow closer to your chest as your eyes roll in your head.

Sylus' big, broad hand is wrapped firmly yet carefully around your little kitty tail, using it to tug you back on his length whenever the overstimulation and constant pleasure has your fucked-out brain making you twitch forward, as if to escape his merciless onslaught of pleasure.

"Tell me what you said before, sweetie," comes his breathless, ragged murmur from above you, coaxing you to lift your teary eyes from the wet pillowcase, glancing over your shoulder at him. So pretty like this— eyes so full of love even when lost in the haze of pleasure.

Sylus groans at the sight beneath him, hilting inside you once more, and you squeak when he stays there, savoring in the warmth of being wrapped up by you.

His hand strokes your cheek gently, delighting in how you melt like putty in his palm. "There's my pretty kitty," he coos adoringly, his cock twitching. He can't hep it— you're just so damn cute. "Hm? What was it that you wanted to give me for my birthday, my love? Tell me again."

It's a struggle at first, with your tongue so heavy with pleasure and the twitch of his cock stretching you open, but you manage eventually— "A baby," you slur slightly, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. "Want— I wanna make you a daddy, Sy."

Just like the first time you said it, the words hit him like a punch in the gut and his breath leaves him in a hoarse exhale. Somehow, his cock gets even harder.

The mere thought of it —of you round and glowing with his baby in your tummy— just about pulls the rug out from under him. The only thing in his mind is filling you up so thoroughly with his cum that it takes.

He tugs again on your cat tail, grinding his hips deeper ( you feel him in your throat ) and you gasp, whining his name.

"Who am I to refuse a gift from my lovely wife?" He murmurs, other hand stroking reverently up and down the length of your spine, just to make you shiver. He grins when he sees how the cat ears at the top of your head flatten against your hair, how you tremble at the tone in his voice.

Adorable. Beautiful.

When he slowly pulls his cock back, it’s shiny from your arousal— pretty and glittering under the lights, marked by you. A ring of your cream circles the base of his cock, and he can’t help but groan under his breath knowing that he did that to you.

Right before you can whine, begging him back inside, Sylus pushes his full length back in in a single thrust, savoring in the wet, filthy sound when your bodies collide. All you can do is mewl as his rough pace starts back up, the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounding in the room, accompanied by your sweet little whines of his name, and Sylus’ grunts of exertion.

“Like that?” he gasps raggedly from above you, the hand not tugging at your tail tangling in your hair, scratching at where the base of your kitty ears meet your scalp. The sensation has your tail going stiff in his grasp, and Sylus laughs under his breath, knowing what he does to you. His voice drops, into something like a purr. A promise. “I’ll cum deep in your belly, sweetie. Breed you nice and deep, alright? I’ll be the daddy, and you can be our baby’s mommy. Sound good?”

"P-please—"

And oh, the way that you clench around him at that— the way that you whine so high pitched and needy, begging him— it has his head spinning. Another brutal thrust forward and your knees give way from the weight of his body pressing down into you. Your tummy meets the soft sheets of your bed, and Sylus follows you down with his chest pressed against your shoulder blades, pinning you to it.

Even with his brain consumed by desire and his very soul heavy with pleasure, he's still conscious enough to not lay all his weight on you, giving you room to breathe and not crushing your tail under his weight. Still so considerate, still so in love, even as he takes you apart at the seams.

You mewl, clutching your pillow tighter to your chest, so fucked out of your mind and drunk on the stretch of his cock but still wanting his baby inside you, begging for it each time you clench down when he thrusts in. Begging for it in the way you chant his name, in the way you beg for him to give you his baby.

Sylus grits his teeth, willing himself not to cum right then and there— forces himself to have an ounce of self control. But fuck if you’re not making it easy for him.

“Deep,” you gasp, delirious from the pleasure but still such a good little kitty for him, even as tears gather on your lashes. “Want it d-deep Sy— please—”

“Alright.” With a grunt, he buries his face into your hair as he continues to pound into you, fucking you into the sheets of your bed. The scent of your shampoo fills his nose and his lungs and his head with nothing else but you. Both hands on your hips now, fingers digging into the softness of your waist so tightly and so desperately that you’re sure to be sporting his marks tomorrow. If you want it deep, then deep is what he’ll give you.

He groans, wicked and wild and in love, and his cock pushes into your tight cunt once more, his whole weight behind the thrust. As deep as he can go, buried to the very hilt, with his base rubbing against your pussy lips. Deep enough that you whine his name, cunt squeezing around him as your tail stiffens, then your whole body goes limp, orgasm washing over you and leaving you glowing.

Sylus groans, your name honey-sweet as it drips from his lips, finding his own orgasm when he feels your cum coat his cock, dripping down onto the stained sheets. He stays seated as deep as possible inside you, breeding you the way you had so wished, pumping his cum into your willing pussy.

With a coaxing noise, he draws you into a passionate, loving kiss over your shoulder as he continues to fill you, hips bucking as you squeeze him of every drop he has to offer.

You mewl sweetly into the kiss, your cute little tail twitching weakly in delight as he swallows each of your noises hungrily. The fullness in your belly only grows and sneakily, his hand slips down to feel over your lower tummy as if he could feel his cum filling you up,

“Again,” he gasps when your lips part, a thin strand of spit stretched between your lips. His hand scratches at your hair again, and he moans when you clench down. “Just to make sure it takes, hm? Is that alright?”

And you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow. Certain that your legs are gonna ache and that sitting is going to be hell. But at the same time, with Sy’s hard cock still stuffed inside and the prospect of making sure it takes still heavy on your mind, your decision or already made.

“Again,” you murmur in agreement, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Let me give you a baby, Sylus.”

And oh, who is he to say no to you?

[sushiyuzu]

sugar daddy

warning: fluff + tension — sugardaddy!sylus spoiling you with his black card 🤑 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

“here,” sylus says, tossing something onto the table in front of you. you glance down, your eyes widening when you see it—the shiny black card, his personal, unlimited credit card.

“what… what’s this for?” you stammer, looking from the card to him, confused. sylus leans back in his chair, a small smirk playing on his lips, crimson eyes locking onto yours.

“for you to spend, of course,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal. “buy whatever you want.”

your jaw drops slightly, and you feel a mix of disbelief and excitement bubble up inside you. “sylus, are you serious?”

he raises an eyebrow, his silver hair catching the light as he gives you a teasing look. “do i look like i’m joking?”

you can’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “you’ve got to be kidding me… i can’t just spend ALL your money.”

sylus leans forward now, resting his elbows on his knees, and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “trust me, you couldn’t spend all of it if you tried.”

your eyes flick back to the black card, still in disbelief. “but… why?”

“because i like spoiling you,” he says, his tone softer now, almost serious. “and because i can.”

you bite your lip, suddenly feeling a little shy under his intense gaze. the thought of him giving you free rein with his money, his ridiculously large fortune, is overwhelming. but there’s also a part of you—a curious, excited part—that can’t help but wonder what it would be like to indulge.

“you really want me to?” you ask quietly, looking back at him, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation.

sylus tilts his head slightly, studying you with that same intensity that always makes your heart race. “of course i do. i want you to have whatever makes you happy.”

he stands up then, coming around the table until he’s standing behind you. his hands rest on your shoulders, fingers brushing your skin gently as he leans down to murmur in your ear, “go ahead, take the card. spend the day however you want. anything you see, it’s yours.”

a shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath against your ear, and before you know it, you’re reaching for the card, picking it up with slightly trembling fingers. sylus straightens up, satisfied, and moves back to his seat, watching you with a look of amusement.

“i… i don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your mind racing with possibilities. clothes, jewelry, shoes—you could buy anything. it’s almost too much to think about.

“start wherever you like,” sylus says smoothly. “i’ll have a car ready to take you wherever you want.”

you glance up at him, still feeling a little overwhelmed but also more excited than you’ve ever been. “you’re not coming with me?”

he shakes his head, smiling softly. “not this time. today is about you.”

and just like that, you’re whisked away in one of his sleek black cars, the driver patiently waiting as you step into the most expensive stores you’ve ever seen. the salespeople seem to know the moment you walk in, eyes widening at the sight of the black card in your hand. they practically trip over themselves to help you, showing you everything from designer clothes to luxury handbags, expensive jewelry, and shoes that cost more than you could have ever dreamed.

at first, it feels strange—almost surreal—to just point at things and have them brought to you. but as the day goes on, you start to get into the rhythm of it. you try on dresses made from the softest silk, shoes that make you feel like you’re walking on air. the jewelry sparkles under the store lights, and each time you say “i’ll take it,” the salespeople smile and hurry to wrap it up for you.

by the time the afternoon comes around, you’re carrying bags filled with everything you could want and more. sylus’s card never gets declined, no matter how much you spend, and you start to understand just how insane his wealth truly is.

it’s only when you step into the last store—a boutique that specializes in high-end lingerie—that you feel a small pang of nerves again. you’re not sure why, but there’s something about this particular place that feels different. more personal.

“is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” the saleswoman asks politely, her eyes flicking to the black card in your hand.

you hesitate for a second, then smile. “i’m just looking.”

but as you browse through the delicate lace and silk, your mind drifts back to sylus, to the way he looked at you earlier. you pick up a particularly beautiful red set, running your fingers over the soft material, and you wonder what he’d think if he saw you in it.

without even realizing it, you find yourself buying the set. as the saleswoman wraps it up for you, you can’t help but smile to yourself, imagining the look on sylus’s face when he sees it.

when you return to the house, your arms full of bags, sylus is waiting for you in the living room, lounging on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. he glances up as you walk in, his crimson eyes lighting up with amusement.

“looks like you had fun,” he says, setting his glass down and standing up to greet you.

“you could say that,” you reply, laughing as you set the bags down one by one.

he walks over to you, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss. “did you get everything you wanted, sweetie?”

you nod, feeling a little giddy from the day. “more than i wanted.”

his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “good. because i want to see everything you bought. especially that little red number you picked up at the end.”

your face heats up, your heart skipping a beat as you realize he somehow knew about the lingerie. you look up at him, wide-eyed, and he grins, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“nothing gets past me,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

you can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, the weight of the day’s indulgence sinking in. “you really spoil me, you know that?”

“i enjoy spoiling you,” sylus replies, his eyes darkening slightly as his lips find yours again. “and i’m not done yet.”

[gingybimby]

Collateral Damage of Dragons

Synopsis: Sylus is still a dragon, but keeps tight control on his form. It's only when you lose all inhibitions while ovulating that he matches your energy.

Notes/Warnings: explicit shameless nsfw (MDNI), sylus x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, they're feral and break things, breeding, established relationship, you know he's not human but not much else, explicit consent and safe word established, predator/prey tones

This took too long to write. Barely proofread. Might cross-post to AO3 later. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLUS- I've been saving for the birthday memory.

wc: 3.1k

Tag List: @browneyedgirl22 @cherryredstarz

You were possessed. At least, that’s what it felt like rushing into the N109 Zone on your bike, the heavy vibrations making the ache between your legs unbearable. You’d only gotten off work just before racing over into lawless land because you couldn’t bother to wait. It was bad enough Xavier had been hovering, like he could tell your panties were soaked even after spending forty-five minutes wrapping up some paperwork from some wanderer encounters. You adored your sleepy coworker, but there was only one man on your mind all day making you ache.

Driving right into the underground garage where Sylus liked to keep all his various motorcycles was second nature to you these days ever since you and Sylus became rather serious about your relationship. You still liked to dance around each other in your methods of sharing indirect affection, but the dance held an electric zeal to it now. It was a good thing you both liked a little danger.

When you slipped into the base, you were on a hunt. Luckily, the twins seemed to be absent. It saved everyone from some awkwardness and trouble. Your boyfriend was proving to be rather elusive. He wasn’t in the boxing ring, his favorite music room, his bedroom, or the main armory. You made it back to the large common room that had an open kitchen and island with a quiet huff when finally a presence appeared at your back.

Your neck was brushed with a strong nose and curious lips that sent fire right to your aching pussy. Large, strong hands settled on your hips as the deep voice of Sylus practically purred into your ear after tugging your earlobe between his teeth momentarily.

“Looks like a little kitten brought herself to me in heat.” 

You spun on Sylus, pointing an accusatory finger in his face until he tried to bite it. Your glare was fueled with playful annoyance.

“You-! You know exactly what time of the month it is and you were deliberately hiding from me.” You accused even as your boyfriend dragged you closer to press your bodies together.

“Hm.. guilty as charged. Fuck I could smell you the moment you walked in, kitten.” Sylus buried his face in your neck once more to breathe in deeply like he needed your scent to survive. A soft growl reverberated in his throat.

You couldn’t stop the shiver that licked up your spine, leaning your head to the side for him. It was the faintest whimper from your lips that had him lightly biting into your neck, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before relaxing in what you knew to be an exercise of restraint. That simply wouldn’t do. 

Ever since you learned Sylus wasn’t exactly… human, you’ve been wanting to see more of that wild part of him that he always kept careful control over. You learned quickly that your scent drives him crazy, so you intentionally didn’t put any artificial smells on your skin today.

Oh you knew exactly what you were doing. You intentionally denied yourself the littlest pleasure as the peak of your ovulation hit just so you could truly let loose with Sylus. You even already put in for tomorrow off. It was all for this. You wondered if he suspected anything.

Planting a firm hand on his chest, you pushed Sylus away with blushing cheeks, knowing your panties were ruined and that he could smell that. It was such an unexpected turn on. Sylus didn’t look at all upset at being pushed away save for the tiniest frown as his eyes danced over your face.

“Down boy…” You laughed lightly. “You go sit over there for thirty seconds. I get to have a head start since you decided to hide from me. You better not hold back. I have my safeword: Pomegranate.” 

You swore you saw Sylus’s dilate more than they ever have before at your quiet words. It was so embarrassing at first, having open and honest conversations over something like sex, but Sylus always stressed the importance of it and now it made things like what you were about to do utterly thrilling knowing you’re safe with him. 

You’ve never seen Sylus drop onto a couch so quickly, his eyes burning holes into you. The red gaze never once left your direction and followed you as you neared the doorway to the hallway. You looked over your shoulder at him, kicking off your boots one by one.

“Start counting… Now!” With a final shout you broke into a sprint, heart already racing and giggles flying from you without your say.

During your run, you started discarding things. First it was your holsters for your pistols. Then your socks. Your pants and shirt took the longest, but as you let your ruined panties hit the bare floor, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and quickly ran off again, now only left in your bra.

You slid into the long hallway that would eventually lead to his bedroom and felt that sensation again- that you were being watched by a predator. You didn’t even make it halfway down the hall before a heavy mass was shoving you into a wall chest first. A hand landed above your head and there your dark red panties were twisted in his grip. A long drag of Sylus’s tongue up the back of your neck and the rough pressing of his hips into your ass had you gasping out his name, reaching back with one arm to bury your hand in his silver hair.

“I caught you.” Came his low growl.

An irreverent hand slipped between your legs to drag through your dripping folds. He pauses to circle two fingers into your swollen clit for several moments. Pressing yourself back against his cock, you didn’t hold back your noises as he drew them from you.

“My pretty girl… so ready for me… You put so much effort into trying to drive me wild, huh? You want me to breed your pretty pussy so badly, kitten?”

The filth that came from his lips was just what you wanted as you forced him back a step with a harsh elbow, caught by his hand wrapped in your panties of course. Spinning, you dragged him up against you by the waistband of his pants.

“Why are these still on?” You grumbled before his lips crashed into yours in a wild flurry of kisses that was an obscene connection of tongue, lips, and panting breaths.

You only have a brief second to latch onto his shoulders as he drags your legs up around his waist. He only walks you both a small distance before he settles you on a table just meant to display some of his “shiny things” as you call them. Items of exorbitant value that he likes because of one reason or another. You try to be careful to not knock anything over, almost mentioning it to him to be careful, but he was kneeling between your legs.

You were given no warning as his lips closed over your clit for him to suck on and felt two fingers spread your folds to expose your aching hole clenching around nothing. Sylus groaned into your heat, pulling back only briefly to drown you in praise.

“You taste so good- I can’t get enough.” 

You felt the cold tingling sensation of his evol as it wrapped around one of your calves to drag it over his shoulder as he buried his face into you once more. He slipped two fingers into you instead of starting with one like he usually did and it sent your back arching and snapping a hand down to his hair.

“Fuck!” You whined out, feeling his fingers slowly thrust into you at an easy pace. It was when he pulled lightly on your clit with his teeth and teased his tongue along the hood of your clit that made your arm snap out across the table. You were desperate for something to hold onto, but instead you sent a gorgeous piece of kintsugi flying to the ground, shattering immediately on impact. 

The sharp sound made you jump, apologies starting to tumble off your kiss-swollen lips, but Sylus didn’t so much as shift from his position of worship between your legs. He only curled his fingers up to rub that delectable spongy spot in you that made you see stars and felt his grin when you sobbed out his name. It was right there, that delicious edge promising a most wondrous fall that had you bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Sylus! Please! S-so close. Wanna cum…” You cried.

Part of you knew he was going to pull away, but it still didn’t stop your despairing gasps that melted into frustrated growling and huffs. 

Sylus rising from between your legs was a sight you’ll never tire of as his tongue worked over his fingers to collect every drop of your essence. Your slick covered the lower half of his face and that only made the denial of your orgasm all the more painful. The way he was watching you, you knew he was giving you a moment to put a stop to things if you truly wanted. Shaking your head, you sat up just so you could tear open his buttoned shirt. You glared at him when he only gave you an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

“Such a hissy kitten… You should know by now that you’re not allowed to cum tonight unless my cock is buried in you and filling you with my seed.”

Your glare became more of a pout at his purred words, a fresh wave of need hitting you like a freight train. Gods you wanted that so badly. You needed that.

“Then stop talking and take me to bed, or do you not want me to have your baby.” As you spoke you wrapped your legs around him to pull his hips into you and felt his throbbing bulge get soaked with your dripping need.

Sylus’s groan made your toes curl before he was sweeping you up in his arms and stumbling towards his room even as you desperately ground your pussy against his confined cock. His fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass almost felt sharp when he finally kicked his bedroom door in. He was too focused on biting bruises into your neck to even spare a moment of his attention to the fact that he kicked his poor door hard enough to break off one of the hinges.

When Sylus finally threw you down onto his bed you looked up at him with a cheeky smile, rolling over onto your stomach and raising your hips with a little wiggle. It earned you a hard slap as Sylus spanked you while getting rid of what remained of his shirt and his soiled pants. You let out a sharp yelp that eased into a whiny moan as heat radiated from where his palm landed on your ass.

The coolness of his evol was on your skin again as your bra was tugged free and a pillow being moved to support your hips. Then it concentrated on your wrists as your arms were pulled taut in front of you, pinned.

“Is this okay, kitten?” Sylus’s voice was a comforting roughness that always left you putty in his hands. You started to nod before verbally responding instead.

“H..haah… yes. I need you inside, Sy… I need it so badly.” 

You wanted to push back into him when you felt his cock throb against you. You were still so high strung from your denied orgasm, the cusp just lingering beyond your reach. Couple that with how horny you’ve been practically all week, having waited for this day in particular, you were at your wits end.

While discussion of kids has floated around, you two haven’t tried to exactly plan for any of it. If it happens, it happens was the mentality you both were okay with, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try to tip the odds in your favor. It most certainly wasn’t because one of your coworkers on maternity recently stopped by with her new baby and something gripped at you so desperately you’ve been thinking about it non-stop since.

“Don’t worry Sweetie, I’ll take care of you.” Sylus’s words were an oath and you knew he’d deliver.

One of his hands massaged the cheek he slapped moments ago while his other guided him to your dripping heat only for him to sink in right to the hilt immediately. Normally it took a little time for you to relax properly. His breathless laughter was at your neck as he leaned over you, brushing your hair away so he could trail kisses along your spine.

“You really weren’t kidding… you’ve never taken me so eagerly before, baby.”

You sobbed out in utter bliss as his cock filled out every inch of you just as you’ve been needing, but even this felt like it needed more and he was already huge to begin with! His little bits of teasing didn’t even get a real response from you beyond you trying to bounce yourself against his hips.

Sylus didn’t need to be told twice to get moving, working both of you up to a brutal pace that had your entire being singing with pleasure. His cock hit you in all the right ways, reaching deep enough to tease your empty womb. Your evol-bound hands twisted into the bedding as each noise was forced from your lungs.

“More… Feels so good Sy… Want more…” You babbled, unable to see the slight emergence of black scales along his skin.

He’s never had a lapse of control over his form since long before he even jumped to this time from the Deepspace tunnel, but you right now- the way you cried for him, the scent of your fertile womb at its peak, knowing you’ve been struck by a wave of baby fever from a coworker… It made this beastly side of him rear its ugly head. The need to pin you down with his teeth and tail, to claim you as his mate properly with a vicious bite, to fill you completely and knot you to make sure his seed catches. Oh, you ruined him in all the best ways.

He knew his teeth were already sharper with how his jaw ached to clamp down on your neck and uncontrollable drool pooled in his mouth. His nails wanted to become familiar claws, but he refused to lose the sensation of feeling your skin with the sensitivity fingers offered. Your pleading for more was going to be his undoing. He could already feel a knot forming at the base of his cock and from the way you suddenly bit into the bedding with a sob, the rest of it changed too. Firm ridges and all.

“Oh gods… yessss! Sylus!” You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly paid attention to the differences other than it felt so good. Feeling drool hit your shoulder, you instinctively dropped your head the opposite way.

“Bite me.” You commanded between tearful mewls. “I’m so close-”

The noise Sylus made definitely sounded more beastial than man, but where he worried you might get scared, you just cried his name again, begging him to cum in you as you hit your peak. Sylus was growling when he slammed his hips into you, bullying his knot into your tight hole just as he clamped his teeth down on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You were crying, overwhelmed completely between the pain and pleasure. The way he rolled his hips with every steady pulse as he filled you dragged you through the remnants of your orgasm. Something deep inside you was immensely satisfied, feeling so full of your lover.

You vaguely heard Sylus swear and your neck ache, but everything was fading out fast with sweet sleep dragged you under with a siren’s song.

“Love you… Sylus…” You mumbled before drifting off fully.

—

When you woke up your entire body was sore, but your pussy ached the most. You could smell Sylus on your pillow and hummed in contentment while stretching out as a lazy cat would. You nearly drifted back to sleep when tender fingers brushed your hair from your face and a low voice called your name.

You blearily pried one eye open, barely peeking out from your blanket you had pulled up right under your chin. Red eyes filled your vision and a tender hand crept past your blanket defenses to cup your chin.

“Hey Sweetie… Are you alright?” Sylus looked so concerned, his hair a wild mess as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly.

“Mhm… It was amazing.” You started to push the blankets down to reach out for him when you realized he already had you in a fresh set of one of your favorite jammies. 

“Why aren’t you cuddling me?” You pouted.

“You, my dearest, are a menace.” He drawled out slowly, a visible relief melting into his body and eyes before he dragged a hand through his hair. You narrowed your eyes slightly.

“Were you worried about me?” You questioned, starting to sit up before he shook his head and crawled into bed with you. He dragged you on top of him like you usually preferred and he started playing with a bit of your hair.

“I lost myself a little.” He admitted quietly, meeting your eyes with genuine remorse. “I hurt you because I wasn’t-” “Did I say pomegranate?” You interrupted him, tilting your head slightly.

“No, but-”

“But nothing. I didn’t say it. I wanted all of you. Even the nonhuman-y bits. Those are starting to become my favorite.” You grinned, cheeks going the slightest bit red as the memories started coming back.

“I trust you. You trust me, right?” You reached to run a finger along his upper lip.

“I do.” He responded without hesitation. “I just… losing any level of control for me is-”

“You don’t have to explain. I know.” Your finger traced up his nose and along his brow. “You’re Sylus. My Sylus. And I’ll always love every part of you- good, bad, and wild.” You sat up slightly on his lap, dancing two fingers up his chest while humming. “And if you ever decide you want me to see all of you, I’ll savor every bit of it. Because it’s you.”

Sylus snatched your hand in his, lacing your fingers together with a quiet laugh, his eyes shining with love and face just the slightest bit red. He dragged your hands close so he could kiss the back of yours.

“I love you.” He breathed your name with reverence along with his declaration of love. It’s hardly the first time you’ve heard him like this, but it still made your heart skip a beat. You snuggled into his chest, letting your hands rest together completely entwined.

“I love you too.”

[gabbytbll]

❦ love and deep space💫

Part 2

Masterlist 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

~ As i just started to play this game Sylus will be OOC! ~

Authors notes: I feel like I'm cheating on Zayne but that's ok I can just take both at the same time ehehe I JUST KNOW ITS BIG! I CAN FIX HIM!!!!!

✦𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒♔

Warnings!!: Creampie, BDSM, Nudes, choking, Teasing, orgasm control, sex toys, Dacryphilia, Hand cuffs, Roleplay, Slapping, Rough sex, Switch Sylus, Public sex, Markings, Biting, Big dick Sylus, Blindfolds, Knife play, Blood kink.

MDNI!!!

SFW!

major fluff ahead!

✫ Sylus hates staying away from you to long like this man is obsessed with you from top to bottom, inside and out.

✫ this man loves everything about you! your scars, your crooked teeth, your acne EVERYTHING!!! he just can't get enough of you.

✫ This man loves PDA he loves to show who you belong to in front of people who flirt with you

✫ Whenever a girl or boy flirts with him he gives them the stink eye and gets sassy with them because he belongs with you. (cause we all know he is a sassy man).

✫ He loves to go on rides with you with his bike at night to just look at scenery and play around.

✫ He loves surprising you with random kisses on your cheek, lips, forehead it doesn't matter to him.

✫ Sometimes he makes his cook have a day off just so he can cook for you all day or so you can cook for him.

✫ He loves coming home to warm cuddles in your shared bedroom

✫ He always make sure you don't see blood on him when he comes home so he sneaks into one of the guess bedrooms to get a quick shower and change.

✫ This man loves pet names so he loves calling you kitten, sweetie, honey, etc.

✫ On his days off he loves when you make him breakfast in bed, he loves your cooking even if it's simple.

NSFW!!

sexual content ahead!!

✧ One of his favorite thing in bed is when you cry, he loves the face full of pleasure as you cry and moan.

✧ He loves to tease you to the point you beg for him in any way possible just to cum.

✧ He loves when you try to dominate him, so he lets you play with him for a while until he's had enough, so he switches on you and punish you.

✧ When ever you let him, he loves knife play he makes tiny cuts on your chest, your neck, anywhere he just loves to lick up the blood that trickles down your beautiful skin.

✧ He has special hand cuffs made for some of your punishments, he loves hand cuffing you to the bed.

✧ Sometimes when he gets so into roleplay, he lightly slap's your face a couple times.

✧ When he's not home he often sends you nudes to tease you and to get you all hot and bothered so he can fuck you when he gets home.

✧ He made a dildo that's a replica of his dick so whenever he's not home you still have a piece of him plus, he loves the videos you send him when your riding the dildo!

✧ When the both of you go on your nightly rides on his bike he loves to stop at a secluded area and just fuck you on his bike, since he loves both his bike and you, he feels like he's in heaven.

✧ This man never wears a condom because he said he loves how you feel wrapped around his cock tightly whenever he releases in you.

✧ When he releases he cum's a lot, he loves to take pictures of his cum dripping down from your wet cunt onto the bed or floor, etc.

✧ He loves to put you in blindfolds so you can't see what he's going to do to you next, he loves to surprise you.

✧ He loves to leave markings on your neck and body rather it be hickeys or bite marks he just loves how his markings look on you.

✧ The both of you kind of have a Dom and a Sub relationship in bed it depends on how the both of you feel or if you're up to it.

✧ Before the both of you have penetrative sex, he has to open you up with 4 fingers because his dick is so big he might tear you apart.

✧ When you have sex its mostly rough because he loves how much control he has in bed but he loves making love just as much because he loves how your body slots against his like you were made for him.

დTHAT CONCLUDES THIS POST! i hope you loved reading this please make sure you support me by liking and reposting i would appreciate it!!დ

©️ gabbytbll do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[mapofsouthdakota]

Maps headcanons

The LADS boys -

The underwear edition

Details: 3000ish words.. What do they wear? What do they get you to wear? And most importantly… how do they gift it to you? Probably fem reader, but let’s be honest, it’s strictly just a gift. They want to see you in it. Full stop. Some adult fluff, some sexual tension and implied notinoti stuff. So 18+ I guess? And umh… yea I definitely went overboard. SORRY! But I had so much fun, I couldn’t stop myself.

❤️ Sylus

What Sylus wears:

Sylus is all sharp lines, dark elegance, and control. Underneath that crisp red-streaked suit? He’s wearing tailored, jet-black silk boxer-briefs. Luxurious. Breathable. Tactical. They’re tight enough to keep everything in place during any kind of… movement, but soft enough to feel like nothing’s there—no small feat, considering what they’re working with. No logos. Just that sleek minimalism only a man would choose if he knew exactly how handsome he was, didn’t care what anyone else thought—and never once looked at a price tag.

Sylus’s gift to you:

Oh, he’s not just buying you lingerie—he’s curating a message.

It’s a two-piece set, hand-delivered in a black velvet box—while you’re at work. No return address. Just a black wax seal with a crow pressed into the lid. Then a folded note in sharp, elegant script.

If this ends up on the floor, you better not be the one who puts it there. Don’t disappoint me, kitten. —S.

And inside:

A high-leg, sheer silk and lace thong in a crimson so deep it’s almost black—just enough opacity to leave things to the imagination, but not too much.

The matching bralette: underwire-free, soft lace, with feather-like embroidery in crimson thread—subtle nods to his own red-streaked shirt and the crow brooch he gave you. It whispers danger and intimacy at once.

But here’s the kicker—he’s had both your initials and his embroidered inside, side by side in tiny, near-invisible thread. Only you would notice. That’s his way: power in the quietest touches, like branding you without ever lifting a finger.

Scene:

You don’t even have to look out the window to know he’s watching. Heat creeps up your neck as you snap the box shut, fingers fumbling slightly. You tuck it into your drawer fast—too fast—just before anyone walks by.

Your cheeks burn. Your pulse stutters.

Later you open the velvet box in your bedroom—its crow insignia gleaming faintly under the light. It smells of something expensive and sharp—amber, burnt cedar, and a lingering metallic note… gunpowder? When you look up, Sylus is already there, leaning against the doorframe like he’s been watching the whole time. His smirk is lazy, eyes glowing faintly red.

“I thought you could use something… less modest,” he says, voice like dark wine. “Consider it… encouragement.”

You brush your fingers over the crimson mesh, the featherlike embroidery. “And this is supposed to motivate me?” You glance up at him. “Sending me underwear while I’m at work?”

He tilts his head. “Everything I do motivates you. Why should this be any different?”

You narrow your eyes. “Want me to try it on?”

His grin widens. “No. I expect you to.”

You disappear into the other room—and when you return, the change is undeniable. The set clings like a second skin: barely-there lace, delicate and daring in all the ways he clearly planned. Sylus is leaned back with his palms pressed into the mattress behind him, utterly at ease—blazer still draped over his shoulders, one brow cocked as his gaze trails down every inch of you.

You turn slowly, fingers trailing along the silk at your hip, then glance back at him with the faintest smirk. An unspoken well? hangs in the air—daring him to speak, to react, to move.

“Look at you. The gift, wrapped and worn—for the one who gifted it.” A slow smile curves his lips. “You’re lucky I let you wear it at all, kitten.”

Sylus doesn’t move—just stays there on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his palms, one ankle resting casually over his knee. But his gaze trails down your body like a hand.

“But don’t confuse indulgence for permission,” he adds, voice velvet-dark. “I unwrap what’s mine when I decide.”

You raise a brow.

Then he stands—slowly—and stops in front of you, fingers brushing the embroidery near your hip. His touch is light, almost teasing, but his voice has gone rough. “So now I get to peel this off… piece by piece… and watch your ambitions unravel.”

His fingers slide just under the strap at your shoulder, just enough to threaten movement. “I want to see how long you can hold eye contact while I take my time with you.”

He leans in close, gaze never wavering, and drags the tip of his tongue slowly along your bottom lip.

“So don’t blink, kitten.” He murmurs, voice a low drawl. “I want to watch every second tonight.”

——————————————————————————

💜 Rafayel

What Rafayel wears:

Rafayel isn’t really one for undergarments—too restrictive, too boring. He prefers fabric that flows, not hides. On regular days—when he’s in his paint-splattered studio with a half-buttoned shirt and flushed cheeks—he wears linen boxer-briefs, soft and pale pastels. But not just any linen—this is the kind handwoven by some obscure artisan, the kind that costs more per pair than most people’s monthly utilities. They cling loosely, comfortably, with a low waistband that dips dangerously on his hips when he stretches or leans too far over a canvas.

Rafayel’s gift to you:

You don’t even know it’s for you at first. He doesn’t say it.

It’s wrapped in a long strip of sheer silk, painted by hand. The gift is neatly tucked at the base of his easel, a soft rosy color catching in the early light, with painted waves in a beautiful baby blue flowing gently across the fabric. The fabric inside feels more delicate than air:

The bottom is a high-slit silk wrap, sea-blue and iridescent, that ties at the hip with a golden clasp shaped like a wave crest. The slit goes high—deliberately high.

The top is a lace halter bralette, stitched with tiny scales in shimmering threads—blues, pinks, and deep ocean violets. When you move, the color changes like it’s underwater.

And at the center of the chest? A small pearl—real, imperfect, kissed by the sea.

There’s a faint scent of paint, sea salt and saffron on the silk. You know he touched every part of it.

Scene:

You step into the studio—sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains, the scent of paint and salt lingering in the air. Raf’s crouched in front of a half-finished canvas, brush dangling loosely from one stained hand, shirt half-off one shoulder, eyes pink-blue and distracted until he notices you.

Then he blushes. Bright. Immediate. Cheeks, ears—flushed like a sunrise.

“There’s something for you,” he mumbles, looking away as if the thought of you seeing it—wearing it—is almost too much to bear. He nods toward the silk bundle. “I… made it. Thought you’d look… divine in it.”

You crouch beside it, fingers trailing along the silk wrapping, savoring the softness before carefully unfolding it. The fabric slips open, revealing the undergarments inside—shimmering, sea-glass delicate. You glance back at him then, eyes teasing.

“Should I put it on?”

Rafayel swallows hard, brush frozen in mid-air. “Yesss. I mean, if… you want to.” His voice cracks just slightly, the tip of his ear glowing like it might catch fire.

You disappear into the adjoining room—there’s a screen for changing, of course—but you leave it just slightly ajar. When you come back out, the set clings to you like seafoam. Rafayel stares—his brush forgotten, his lips parted. For a second, the artist is speechless.

Then, finally, he says softly, reverently:

“I’m never painting anything else again.”

You’re not sure if he means for the next hour, or the rest of his life.

With a small twirl, you step closer to him. The silk shifts with every movement—light, barely there, suggestive in ways that feel like poetry and sin all at once. Rafayel’s gaze follows the curve of your hips, the embroidery over your chest, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.

His paint-stained fingers twitch at his sides. “Turn around again,” he says, quieter this time. “…Please?”

You do. Slowly. The moment stretches taut between you.

When you face him again, he’s closer. Too close. His hand lifts, hovers just above your waist, not quite touching. “I wanted it to feel like water,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, lower. “But it clings like heat. Like you’re melting into it.”

He finally touches you—fingertips tracing a line along the embroidery near your ribs. His breath stutters. “I don’t know if I want to paint you or pull this off with my teeth.”

You arch a brow. “That’s quite the choice.”

Rafayel leans in, lips brushing your shoulder, his voice a husky rasp against your skin. “Why not both?”

His hips press into you, letting you feel the full weight of his desire—hard, aching, and entirely focused on you. One hand traces the edge of your halter, fingertips ghosting along the lace before he gives it a curious little poke, like he’s testing his own creation. His lips hover just above yours, breath warm, eyes soft and burning all at once.

Then, just above a whisper, he adds—“Either way… I’m going to ruin you beautifully, cutie.”

——————————————————————————

🧡 Caleb

What Caleb wears:

In casual moments—when it’s just him and you in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, cooking for you—he wears comfortable cotton boxer briefs. Black, sleek, nothing flashy. He’s practical like that. But they hug him just right, sitting low on his hips, making it really hard to focus on the food. And the worst part? He knows. You’ll glance, just once, and he’ll smirk—subtly flexing one ass cheek like it’s a reflex. Just to mess with you. Just to watch you squirm.

Caleb’s gift to you:

It comes in a sleek, dark orange box. You find it on your doorstep after a long day. Tucked on top, folded with military precision, is a tiny origami fighter jet—his old model, of course. Unfolding it reveals a single line, scribbled in his handwriting:

Try it on, or I’ll just imagine it. Either way, I win.—C.

And when you open it:

A high-cut, gravity-defying black lace bodysuit. It’s sheer in all the right places, sculpted with subtle violet shimmer threading through the seams. Where the light hits it, it reflects a dull glow—almost like a nebula.

A thin, matching choker with a clasp shaped like an apple.

And one last piece: a purple silk sash. A tie. A leash. A promise of discipline wrapped in devotion, of control you never had to ask for, of just how far he’ll go to make sure you never forget who you belong to.

Yet the fabric carries just the barest trace of his cologne and… mouthwash(?)

Scene:

You confront him, of course—he left it there on purpose, knowing curiosity would get the better of you. You don’t even try to play it cool. You find him hours later, still at work on The Fleet, posture perfect, all crisp uniform and that infuriating calm. An adjutant’s just finishing a report when you step into the room. Your eyes lock on him like a missile. Caleb doesn’t flinch—doesn’t even turn. Just gives you a quiet, knowing look over his shoulder like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.

“What’s the meaning of this?” you ask, holding the box like evidence, like a challenge.

His gaze drags over you from across the room, slow and deliberate. He uncrosses his arms, brushes a speck of dust from his uniform—measured, precise. Like you’ve interrupted something important, but he’s willing to indulge you.

That Colonel Caleb chill lingers in his eyes… but there’s a glint now. And the faintest curve to his lips.

“You found it,” he says, stepping closer until your breath catches. “Great. I had it made. Custom stitching. Seamless where it matters.”

You narrow your eyes. “So you just decided—?”

“I don’t ‘decide,’” he cuts in smoothly. “But if you really are mine…” his voice drops, dangerously low, “…then I want to be the only one who sees you in this.”

His gloved fingers brush your cheek, then trail down to your collarbone. The heat between you crackles like static in space.

Behind you, the adjutant clears their throat—once. A warning. A presence. Caleb doesn’t even glance their way.

“That’ll be all,” he says, voice low and firm, the kind that doesn’t invite questions. The door hisses shut behind you a moment later.

Then it’s just you. Him. And that charged space between.

“Put it on for me, Pip-squeak.”

It’s not a request. But it’s not entirely a command, either. He’s looking at you like you could refuse—but he knows you won’t.

Caleb shrugs off his coat with practiced ease, draping it over the back of the chair before pulling off his gloves, one finger at a time. He sinks into the seat in a single, fluid motion—then reaches up to loosen his tie, just enough to breathe. His legs spread, posture easy, but there’s nothing casual about the way he watches you.

You turn your back to him as you undress, the room quiet except for the subtle shift of fabric. The black bodysuit slides on smoothly, the silk sash tied loosely at your waist. The lace hugs your curves perfectly.

Caleb leans forward, forearms on knees, purple eyes trailing down your form like a scan. Slowly. Thoroughly.

“Turn around.”

You do, slowly, and when you face him, he’s already rising. He closes the distance in measured strides, hands sliding to your waist, voice low and tight.

He leans in. “You know,” he murmurs against your neck, “I wish I could deploy you in this. No one would dare touch you.”

You smirk. “Jealous, Colonel?”

“Obsessed,” he corrects, voice like a velvet threat. “And completely serious.”

You feel his lips graze your shoulder—soft, then firm. And then—his teeth sink in, just enough to make you gasp. Not to hurt. Just to remind you: you’re his.

“Do you know what I thought about every night when I designed this?”

You breathe out. “What?”

His fingers curl into the sash at your hip. “How fast I could undo it.”

Then he lifts you like it’s nothing, pressing you back against the console with stars spinning behind you—his mouth already trailing down your neck as the fabric slips from your skin. But you don’t see stars—you feel them crash.

Then, without missing a beat, the corners of his mouth curve—just slightly, just enough. “I’m betting it’ll take me ten seconds to undress you… if I take my time.”

——————————————————————————

🩵 Zayne

What Zayne wears:

Zayne is nothing if not understated excellence. Beneath his pristine three-piece suits? Charcoal-gray modal boxer briefs. Soft, breathable, structured—he’d never wear anything flashy or inconvenient. But they fit like they were measured for him, contoured to sit low on his hips beneath that crisp dress shirt. And if you ever catch him with the shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, forearms scarred and strong? The contrast of clean fabric and rough skin does things to you.

Zayne’s gift to you:

He doesn’t take you shopping. He doesn’t even mention he’s getting you something. It just… appears, neatly folded in a soft satin box inside your closet. Next to it, a small handwritten note in steady script:

The fabric’s hypoallergenic. I know how your skin reacts to lace. I hope the fit is precise—I took the liberty of measuring while you were asleep. —Zayne.

And on the inside:

A silk slip dress, cut short and minimal, in deep forest green with thin black straps that crisscross at the back. The inside is lined with cotton—soft, breathable. So Zayne.

A matching bra and panty set—subtle scalloped trim, no underwire, no push-up. Just comfort and beauty in quiet balance. He knows how to make you feel exquisite without shouting it.

And tucked in one of the folds? A thin bracelet. Jade.

Scene:

He doesn’t even bring it up at first. You only find it after he leaves for a night shift.

The next evening, you bring it up with a wry smile. “So… were you going to mention the intimate gift hiding in my closet, or were you just hoping I’d trip over it?”

Zayne blinks once behind his glasses, setting down his mug of cocoa.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says simply. “But I also didn’t want anyone else buying you something that didn’t… suit you.” His gaze drops, lingering on your wrist where you’ve already put on the jade bracelet. “So I took care of it.”

You arch a brow. “Do you want to see it on me?”

His eyes flick up, expression unreadable—but there’s a faint flush climbing up his throat. “That depends.”

“On?”

“If you want me to take it off you too.”

And there it is. The Zayne smirk—so faint, you almost miss it. Almost.

You step into the bedroom after a hot shower, damp hair over your shoulders, body wrapped in the green silk slip. It molds to you, effortless and cool. The straps kiss your shoulder blades, the hem teasing the tops of your thighs.

Zayne is seated at the edge of the bed, shirt undone at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbows—relaxed in theory, but his eyes are anything but. Behind the silver glint of his glasses, hazel green irises rake over you slowly. Intently. Like you’re a case study he’s about to personally explore.

“You wore it,” he says, voice steady, but lower now. Tight.

“I did,” you reply, stepping closer, letting the silk sway just enough to tempt. “Are you going to examine it?”

He doesn’t answer—not with words. He pulls off his glasses and sets them aside with exacting precision, then leans forward and tugs you between his knees. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, fingers splaying over silk and skin.

“I’m not your physician right now,” he exhales, his mouth brushing your sternum, “but I still know how to handle delicate things.”

You inhale sharply, and he shifts the slip aside—just a little—enough to make your heart race.

His lips brush the inside of your wrist—soft at first, then slower. He drags his mouth down to the base of your palm, then lets his tongue trace the curve of your finger, you like you’re his favorite candy—something rare, rich, and entirely his.

“…You realize,” he says against your skin, “you’re never wearing this for anyone else.”

You breathe out, quiet, shivering. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good.”

And the way he says that one word, low and clinical and full of heat? It feels like you’re about to be unraveled—one practiced touch at a time.

“I’ve studied anatomy,” he murmurs, gaze unwavering, “but I’ve never wanted to memorize someone like this.”

You tilt your head, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “So what now, doctor Zayne? Want me to act like your study sample?”

His eyes flick down your body, then back up—calm, absolutely smoldering. “Mm. Slow breaths for me, please,” he says softly. “I want to feel every shift under my hands.”

——————————————————————————

🩷 Xavier

What Xavier wears:

For all his ethereal calm and delicate looks, Xavier’s body is not soft. He’s lithe, compact, and stronger than he looks—and his undergarments reflect that contradiction. Sleek. Supportive. Understated. He wears fitted low-rise boxer briefs in pale gray or lavender. Soft, seamless, breathable—so easy to move in you almost forget they’re there. And while size has never been the point, there’s no denying the quiet truth: he’s big. The waistband is low enough that when his sweater rides up while he’s napping on the couch? You catch the edge, just barely. (And no, he’s not unaware. He’s just pretending he is.)

Xavier’s gift to you:

You don’t even realize it’s a gift at first.

You find a small folded bundle on your pillow—no tag, no note, but it smells faintly of that tangy-sweet, citrusy energy drink he drinks… laced with the subtle warmth of vanilla that always seems to linger on his skin. The fabric is impossibly soft. Dreamlike.

A silk cami set, sleeveless, light violet with silvery sheen. The camisole is loose, with barely-there straps and delicate lace at the hem. It looks like starlight.

The shorts are sheer, fluttery, with a ribbon drawstring. If you move too quickly, they shift… dangerously.

There’s a tiny embroidered constellation stitched near the hem.

You realize later that the embroidery thread is pale gold. Subtle. Like he wants you to wear the stars for him.

Scene:

You ask him about it later, holding the fabric between your fingers—right after sharing a burnt pizza he insisted he had under control (he did not).

“Did you leave this on my bed?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you with that quiet intensity, like he’s still trying to figure out how you got past his walls with nothing but laughter and melted cheese. He tilts his head slightly.

“I thought you might sleep better with it on,” he says softly. “Or off.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that a suggestion?”

“No,” he replies, gaze dragging slowly down your figure. “It’s a preference.”

He steps closer, fingers brushing yours as he takes the fabric back from your hand—just long enough to skim his knuckles over your palm before he returns it. His voice drops a note lower.

“Will you wear it tonight?”

You swallow, pulse jumping.

“I might.”

He smiles—barely. But it’s real. “I’ll be upstairs if you need help taking it off.”

Later, when the lights are low and the house is quiet, your phone buzzes.

XAVIER: Did you end up trying it on?

You hesitate, then type:

YOU: Maybe.

There’s a long pause. Then:

XAVIER: Then I hope you’re not expecting sleep.

You stare at the screen, heart skipping.

YOU: Good night, Xav.

Another pause.

XAVIER: Good night… Don’t lock your door.

You wake to find Xavier standing in your doorway—messy silvery-blond hair, expression unreadable, sleep still tugging at his lashes. You’re wearing the silk cami set, curled under your blanket. He blinks once, slowly, as if committing the image to memory.

“…Door was unlocked,” he murmurs. “You sleep too lightly.”

“I sleep just fine,” you say, voice husky, watching his eyes flick down the curve of your thigh where the blanket’s slipped. “So why are you here?”

He walks in, slow and barefoot. “I was thinking about you.”

“And?”

His fingers brush the ribbon of your waistband, tugging lightly—just once, enough to let the silk shift against your skin. “And I wanted to see if you look better in… or out of it.”

You lift an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring long enough to know.”

His eyes drag up your body with excruciating calm, but there’s something darker flickering beneath the stillness. He leans down, brushing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then just beneath your jaw—lingering there.

“I’m thorough. Still deciding,” he murmurs, breath warm and slow, thick with something you feel more than hear.

He undresses with quiet efficiency, unbuttoning his pajama shirt, folding it once before setting it aside, then slipping out of the pants with the same composed ease—until he’s left in nothing but his underwear.

Then he slides under the covers, pulls you into his chest, and whispers against your ear,

“You can keep yours on—for now.”

But his hand is already resting low on your waist, fingers curling just beneath the hem of your top, like he’s giving himself permission to explore later—inch by inch, breath by breath.

Then, without a word, he takes your hand and guides it along the plane of his chest, down the firm line of his stomach—slow, careful, like he wants you to feel how hard it is for him to stay gentle.

And just when your fingertips brush the edge of his waistband—he leans in, voice low and rough with need.

“This is me… trying to be good for you.”

Your fingertips slip just beneath the waistband, barely testing the edge of skin. His breath catches, and for a moment he doesn’t move. Then his hand wraps gently around your wrist—not to stop you, just to feel you there.

His voice drops. “But if you keep doing that… I won’t be good much longer.”

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: YE. I’m sorry. Nobody asked for this. I spent my Saturday night writing 3k words of underwear headcanon and then gave it the gentlest proofread over my Sunday morning coffee like that somehow made it respectable. Totally normal, balanced behavior. I’m thriving. Unhinged, yes—but thriving. Should I be finishing the Bear AU pilot? Absolutely. Am I derailed by one intrusive thought? Also yes. But! I will finish the pilot this week. Prrroooomise. I should touch grass… but let’s be real, that’s what triggered this spiral in the first place. Okey then, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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Previous - Next

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[cherryredstarz]

Cherries 🍒

A/n: more nasty Caleb ☺️aka Caleb popping your cherry

Cw: NSFW, fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), a little blood, fluff, aftercare, petnames

Your Grandma was going to be away for the night—out visiting a close friend. Which left Caleb in charge of you at the house. He made your favorite braised chicken wings for dinner, and now you both were fooling around on the couch while watching a Disney movie.

“Caleb!” You giggle, dropping some pink confetti into his hair; you’d just celebrated your eighteenth birthday a couple days before. Caleb shakes his head like a wet dog while grinning. “What? Can’t handle being tickled by your gege?” The nineteen year old pulls you onto his lap and playfully bites at your neck.

You squeal and swat at his chest, before nestling into his warmth. You’re wearing one of his old shirts from highschool—it smells so comforting, like him. Burrowing your face into his neck, you inhale softly. “What’s all that for?” Caleb flicked your nose, albeit gently.

“Ya’ smell good.” You mumble.

“Yeah?” He squishes your cheeks together, like a pufferfish, before pressing a quick peck on your lips. You return to watching the movie, but it isn’t long before you feel a certain someone’s hands wandering down your hips to the bottom of your teeshirt. “What are you doing?” You tilt your head back at him. “Nothing.” He smirks, his fingertips brushing against the dainty lace of your panties.

You nearly gasp when his fingers slip under your panties, and begin to gently circle your clit. “C-Caleb!”

“Shh, Pipsqueak. Let me take care of my girl, yeah?” He mutters against your ear before giving your cheek another soft kiss. You both stay their like that, him leisurely rubbing your poor little bud while you leak into your underwear. Nobody’s ever touched you like this before, and Caleb is playing you like a fiddle.

You mewled and tried not to squirm as a strange, unfamiliar sensation began to fill your belly, and tried to keep your thighs still when they threatened to jerk. Then his hands creep lower, lazily stroking your pussy lips, and gathering all the slick that’s pooled in your slit. “C-Caleb—mph—”

“Caleb’s gonna take care of you.” He nipped at your neck before pushing a finger into you. You whimper and clench at the unfamiliar feeling. “Relax baby. Deep breaths for me.” He lazily pumps his fingers in and out of you. You moan into his neck, your thighs clenching around his hand. “Caleb—m’ tummy feels tight—” you’d never orgasmed before.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay baby.” He coos, and grins as you moan and for the first time, cum around his fingers. “Good girl.” He kisses your nose and gently wiped sweat from your forehead before sticking his wet fingers into your mouth. Whining, your tongue swirls around the digit. You taste…sweet.

Before you know it, you find Caleb had you laying on your back on the couch, and Caleb was tugging off your panties, and pulling down his pajama pants. “C-Caleb—I’ve never done this before..” you whisper, and he just gives you a little kiss. “I’ll take care of you, huh? When has your gege ever steered you wrong?”

Multiple times, you think, but your mind goes blank seeing the size of Caleb’s dick. Huge. “T-That’s not going to fit inside me.” You stammer.

“I’ll make it fit, okay?” He assures you. It takes two tries, but he lines up and gently thrusts inside you. You gasp, whimpering at the sharp pain. He does a few gentle thrusts, and the pain eases to a dull ache and the beginnings of pleasure bubbles in your belly.

“Popped your cherry, huh, pipsqueak?” Caleb’s hands gently massage your breasts. Your eyes flicker to where his were at—a tiny bit of blood on the base of his dick. You whimper, but he hushed you with a kiss. “It’s okay. It’s normal baby.” Caleb begins lazily thrusting—it feels so good.

2 hours later you’ve squirted and cummed more times that you can count, and you’re seeing stars as Caleb pounds your poor, abused hole. “C-Caleb—” you don’t even sound like yourself anymore; just a poor, wanton mess.

“So tight baby..” he moans, leaving another dark hickey on your neck. How are you going to hide these from Grandma?

Caleb moans as he blows another load into you; cum leaking from your weeping pussy. “Such a good girl, huh?” He kisses your cheek before easing out of you. Caleb puts his boxers and sweats back on before disappearing in the bathroom, and returning with a warm wash rag, and fresh pair of panties, and a clean teeshirt of his. Caleb gingerly wipes down your thighs and soaked cunt, and carefully redresses you.

“My girl, huh?” He carries you to bed and snuggled close.

“Love you Caleb..” you babble before passing out.

“I love you too, pipsqueak.”

[salemwasnteverhere]

You and Sylus often shower together. I mean have you seen his shower? It's definitely big enough.

He likes it when you try to clean his hair but fail since he's too tall, so he bends down slightly and lets you work.

Expect his hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing soap into your skin. You have to swat his hands away when they glide down lower, cupping your ass and holding you closer.

But he likes helping you wash your hair. Doesn't matter how long it is, he just likes touching you. And if you have specific types of hair he'll buy the products you need for it and even help you apply them!

Most of the time it ends up with you against the wall with him fucking you :p

[catcze]

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !! — Sylus. fem&afab reader, he fingers u good morning, banter, lovesick Sylus ♡

Thinking thoughts rn about waking up on the first morning of the new year to Sylus’s kisses on your face and his hand on your inner thigh with his fingers trailing higher and higher with each second. The way he hums when he feels you stir awake, the way he grins into your lips when you kiss back against him, still sleepy but so willing to return his affection.

“Let’s start the new year with a bang, shall we?” He asks, crimson eyes sparkling with coyness— and you laugh, because you’re too sleepy to tell if that was a pun, an innuendo, both, or something in between. You just know that goodness, you love him so much.

And Sylus huffs, because he wasn’t expecting you to be laughing at him when you should be gasping his name. His hand slipping under your sleep shorts remedies that, however, and soon your laughter dissolves into a soft gasp of arousal when his broad hand cups your pussy, roughened fingers stroking your folds through the fabric of your cotton panties.

Sylus groans alongside you, feeling the way you respond to him so beautifully— your pussy knows who’s taking care of her, and she’s already growing wet under his simple touch.

“You laugh, but you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, hot breath brushing across your lips. “Do you want me to do something about it, baby? Hm?”

A whine is pulled from your throat when he pushes more insistently against your panties, stroking you just a touch rougher now, teasing your little cunt. “Yes,” you mewl, voice still rough from the haze of sleep. “Sylus, don’t fucking tease—”

“Manners,” he scolds, though he grins. His other hand lightly taps your thigh. “Is that any way to say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’?”

You scowl up at him, displeased at being treated like a little kitten who’s merely showing her claws, though the haze of pleasure that clouds your eyes dulls the edge of it. “Please fuck me, before I shoot you again. Thank you.”

And the bastard laughs, the sound sending shivers up your spine.

“Yeah, alright. Wouldn’t want to start the year with that kind of bang,” Sylus concedes, because he always concedes when it comes to you. His fingers tug the seat of your panties aside as they finally delve into the soft slickness of your pussy, two fingers dipping into your cunt, and you whine. He grins, seeing how your eyes flutter shut and your body shudders.

“Just relax,” he murmurs to you, over the sound of you whimpering his name as his fingers push deeper, up to his knuckles now, and the way your hand darts to his wrist, pulling him close, begging for more. “Just lay there and look pretty, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Full on nasty smut soon I swear let me just get motivated enough to finish it lol

Comms [ ♡ ]

[merelylillies]

˗ˋˏ ─────── ‧˚⊹☽ ◯ ☾˙₊๋ ────── ˎˊ-

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Note: ‘‘Sorry if it’s bad,,

・・・・・​​⟢

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Pairing: (Fem.)Reader x Sylus

Content Warnings: (NSFW) Thigh Riding

✦・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​✦

The leader of Onychinus leaned back onto the bed's headboard, watching the bed dipping from the shuffling of your knees. As you hovered over his lap, movement shy but deliberate, you felt a large hand find its way onto your lower back. The warm palm making its way up your spine, churning a pleasurable heat in your stomach, until it wrapped around one of your shoulders.

Before you can even question the newfound grip, the hand pushes you down firmly, making you topple over to the side, a leg landing between his, another by the side of his hip.

Despite your surprise, all you could register was where you were sitting. His thigh, muscular even covered with his black dirtbike jeans, pressed directly between your now spread legs.

Fuck.

Looking up at him, his eyes were staring at you intently, a raised eyebrow as if his very own lips weren't quirked up into a smirk. As if he wasn't the one who had ruined your plans.

A couple nights back, during a drinking game with the Kieran and Luke, you had bet the twins you could top Sylus. Now was that your best moment? No. But you were drunk- and hey you could totally top him if you wanted.

Sylus being Sylus, cockily let you have a chance. But you'd prove him wrong.

Right?

"What's wrong?" Amusement clear in his voice.

"You said you'd let me take the lead tonight.” Your response as bitter as you can muster with the tension that seems to grow with every breath.

"And I am." He chuckles before bringing two fingers between your brows, massaging the frown away, then dropping to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your face in an almost mocking way.

"Go ahead."

Maybe you should've known better. Because just as you leaned forward, aiming to take charge, his thigh lifted. Instantly your lips closed and your core tightened, eyes fluttering up to his.

A pause.

"Sweetie? Did you not hear me?" He says softly, the tone betraying his expression, as his gaze takes you in.

"I said go ahead," Another move.

"Do as you want," Harsher against your core.

"You're the boss tonight." He says with delight.

And god why is it so hard to gather your thoughts. Curse him and his ridiculous thighs-

Another bit of friction and you feel yourself lowering you body weight on him.

"Oh?" The bastard has the audacity to act like he doesn't know what he's doing. His leg continuously rubs against you, the rhythm unsteady on purpose, keeping you on your toes.

"Are you alright Princess?" He teases. And you can feel the flexing muscle hit just right, making you clamp your legs around his singular one.

Shit, why does it feel so good?

"I'm fine." You mumble.

"Yeah?" His leg jerks up, and your breath hitches audibly. "Are you?" Another movement and you feel your sanity start snapping, your resolve crumbling and humiliation be dammed-

Double Fuck.

You tentatively move your hips. The friction of his pants material only further aiding your relief. Before long you're rutting against his leg shamelessly as he watches with an amused smile. Eyes half lidded as the flicker back and forth between where you sit on him and your face contorting every time he flexes just right.

And fucking hell you're close. And he's just enjoying himself doing nothing but grinning-

Sending the grind of your hips stutter more and more Sylus sighed out a breath that resembles a small laugh.

"But wait a second." Two large hands circle around your hips gently, before firmly pushing you down onto his leg. The pressure pushing a small yelp past your lips.

"Didn't you want to lead tonight Sweetheart?" As you try to regain rhythm your hips trembles and shake from his grip, not allowing your movement past staying put on his thigh, pressing you down onto the muscle.

And you were so fucking close- can he just-

"Just- Sylus-" You pant out, hands gripping at his slightly unbuttoned shirt, the dark fabric crumpled in your fingers. And suddenly a rush of humiliation runs down your body and goes straight to your core, realizing how disheveled you were while you were both still fully dressed. He was beyond unaffected though.

"Can I just what?" He hums calmly.

"Oh I'm sorry." He feigns pity with a shit eating smirk.

"Were you close?"

[leighsartworks216]

Cup Runneth Over

Sylus x fem!Reader

I was supposed to go back to bed but then this possessed me

Title from "Cup Runneth Over" by Kiki Rockwell

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: smut, established relationship, swearing, creampie, stuffing, size kink, aftercare, praise kink, biting, kissing, licking, begging, overstimulation, explicit consent

Word Count: 1,274

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"One more..." he breathes heavily by your ear. His chest rubs against your back as he shallowly rolls his hips with a low groan. "Please, my love, one more... You can take it, can't you?"

Sylus has never been one to beg. The man will find workarounds and push buttons until people are begging him. But not this time. Not when you're a shaking, whimpering mess beneath him, drooling dumbly into his pillow and fighting to find any conscious thought that he hasn't yet fucked out of you.

He supports himself with one hand as the other reaches under you to glide along your stomach. He peppers kisses all over your neck and shoulders, already marked up from his unrelenting bites. Down further, at your lower abdomen, slick with sweat and the overflow of cum that's spilled out of you, he presses down. You cry out in a sweet gasp, weakly trying to press your hips back against him.

"Feel me right there, kitten?" He sighs shakily, biting softly at a bare spot on your shoulder blades. He's already hard again, twitching and eager. He's insatiable, he can't get enough of your perfect pussy squeezing around him. "There's still a little room left... Just one more, beloved. Need to stuff you just- just one more time."

There's no room left. How could there be? His cum runs down your thighs, your belly, coats his cock so thoroughly he doesn't need your slick to lube him up anymore. But the breathy desperation in his voice reaches past the haze, serenades you with the promise of being taken care of even as he uses you as his own personal cocksleeve. You nod as best you can.

He coats his fingers in the cum, brushes lightly over your abused clit. You whimper with overstimulation. "Use your words, baby... Need to hear you say it."

He's unbearably patient. To distract himself, he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and upper back. He can feel the jagged imprints of his teeth left behind. He licks over a particularly deep one that he hopes will last for at least a week on your pretty neck.

"Yes... Nhnn, need you to... to fill me..."

"That's my girl."

He holds your hips up with his hand on your belly. He refuses to sit up, far too addicted to caging you in like this to even dream of it.

He starts slow. You're so pliant for him. Your poor abused cunt is so slick, stretched so perfectly to welcome his greedy cock, over and over again. It's a feeling that goes straight to his head. Only he can see you like this. Only he can fuck you dumb like this. No one else will ever come close, will ever get the chance. Only him.

He groans, unable to keep himself from speeding up at the thought. Wet squelching mixes with the slap of hips, a beautiful symphony. With each thrust, more and more of his sticky spend is pushed from your pretty weeping hole, dripping sinfully onto the soiled bed sheets.

His hand glides from your belly, presses against the bed to grab one of your tits. It squishes and sits so perfectly in his palm. He pinches your nipple just to hear your choked moan. He chuckles at just how well he knows your body.

"You're so good to me, beloved," he whispers. His canine digs into your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth to soothe the sting. "My good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod without even processing what he asked. You just know he asked something, and that you want nothing more than to please him. He already knows you're too cockdrunk to know what the hell he's saying. Just this one more and he'll take care of you. You deserve it, his sweet little dove.

He's close. He can feel it, just right there. He presses you even further into the mattress with his weight. Releases your breast to rub frantic circles in your clit. You squirm against him, so sensitive, so overstimulated. But he wants you to finish with him. Needs you to. Needs to feel you clench around him and milk him of what he has left to give you tonight.

You clutch helplessly to his pillow. Your cries muffled by the plush, sputtering out nonsensical pleas.

"I've got you. I've got you, dove. Fuck." He thrusts wildly, pounding into you relentlessly, chasing this one last high. "Cum for me, please, pretty girl. Be a good girl and cum for me."

A choked cry tears from your throat. You clench and spasm around him. It's the last push he needs to bury himself as deep inside you as possible, cock kissing your cervix as he fills you one last time with his hot cum. He moans lowly by your ear. His chest heaves against your back, breaths hitching as at last he's milked dry. He stops his onslaught on your clit to tenderly stroke your side.

"That's my good girl," he pants adoringly. He kisses your cheek gently, watching your reactions as he slowly slides his softened cock out of you. "Let's clean you up, hm?"

His weight carefully lifts off of you. Your body is tight and cramped from being in one position for so long. He takes his time helping you out of it to lay flat on your stomach, calloused hands massaging your muscles as he goes.

Any other night, he'd love nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and clean you with his tongue. Suck out your combined releases and swallow them down greedily. But you're far too gone for that. So instead, he disappears into the bathroom to start the shower. Once it's the perfect temperature, he retrieves you, cradling you in his arms as he presses sweet kisses to your forehead. There's a shower seat installed just for you, for moments like this, where he sits you down and kneels on the floor to take care of you.

You're already asleep when he's finished. His hands working the soaps and oils into your skin sealed your fate.

Wrapped up in a big, warm towel, he lays you down on the couch so you can continue sleeping while he changes the bedsheets. They're most certainly completely ruined, but he doesn't give a damn. He can order more. He has to change the cover on his pillow, too, given the drool that soaks through it.

He gets dressed first, with sleep pants that sit low on his hips. When it's your turn, he's careful not to wake you as he slips fresh underwear up your legs and one of his shirts over your head.

At long last, he carries you as you cling to him like a koala, and lays down with you in the freshly made bed.

He lays awake for a while longer. Plans run through his mind for just how to pamper you come morning, when you're going to be too achy to do anything. Breakfast in bed, plenty of cuddles, a massage if you desire. Through it all, he's most excited to see your eyes blink up at him with all the fondness in the world. He covets that look like no other.

But for now, he'll admire your peaceful sleeping face, devoid of any stress. And he'll brush the lightest of kisses to your lips, ever so careful not to disturb you. And he'll tuck your head under his chin and slip his hand under your shirt to rest on your bare back. And he'll go to sleep, dreaming only of you.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[gingybimby]

Tested Patience

Synopsis: You have one final thing planned for Sylus on his birthday. You've shown each other your vulnerable bellies, so you hope he's interested in playing.

Warnings/Notes: Sylus/fem!reader, Sylus/MC (you are MC), Blatant NSFW (MDNI), BDSM themes, established relationship, dragon sylus and you know, follows after his birthday event, breeding/breeding kink, knotting, panties shenanigans, pure fluff/no angst, no use of Y/N

I didn't mean for this to be so late Q-Q Life and such and such. Same universe as the this Dragon!sylus, doesn't need to be read to be understood. They're both standalone. I didn't really edit anything. If I cross post to AO3 eventually, I'll make the effort then.

wc: 4.8k

“You look like the kitten that ate the canary, sweetie.” Sylus’s amused observation followed you into the Onichynus base.

“Who me? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just happy we got to spend your birthday together.” You glanced over your shoulder at him with your smile.

You were rewarded with Sylus’s soft laughter and felt delight rush from head to toe from the sweet sound. You had texted the twins to go find something better to do for the evening and they’d responded to you with a flurry of emojis and variations of “ew” and “gross” though Luke did include brief “take pictures” that had made you swallow a snort at the time. Even Mephisto wasn’t butting heads with you this time, having performed this once in a lifetime favor of queueing up a custom playlist of favorite songs. A compromise seeing as the crow couldn’t exactly get a record safely set up and you’d faint if anything happened to that custom record Sylus had made of both your favorite songs he gifted to you on your birthday.

“So the music that is conveniently a nice mix of our favorite songs is just a final piece to the day you planned?” 

Sylus was starting to prowl. You could tell in the way his gaze narrowed in on you, taking slow, measured steps to corral you against the kitchen island. The thrill of it pooled a welcome heat in your belly but you stopped him with a single finger to his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat. It was rarely ever at a slow pace, always pumping like he was mid-exercise. You wondered if it was due to his nature in these brief moments you take to notice the speed of it.

“Don’t think I don’t notice a predator that’s got me in his sights.” You hum softly to him, trailing your finger along his shirt, teasing the buttons as if you were going to undo them any moment. 

Sylus’s controlled inhale was all you needed to know that he was going to take your bait. As if there was a world where he wouldn’t. He loved it when you had these little schemes of yours. You knew how to play into his every desire just as he did yours.

“Just how do you plan to handle this predator, Miss Hunter.” Sylus’s voice had dropped to a near growl and it took all your effort to suppress the shiver that wanted to dance up your spine.

“Oh, he’ll go quite willingly into my trap I should think.” You started to circle around him, knowing it put him more at attention by reflex. “I’m just curious if his patience is deep enough to stay in it. How quickly will he break, I can’t help but wonder.”

You slip your hand into his, pulling him along behind you. He follows, chuckling in that dangerous way that makes your hairs stand on end.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetie.”

“Aren’t we always? Where’s the fun if not in a little danger? I can take it, thorn or claw.”

You felt his long fingers flex in your hand briefly, things left unsaid but no less understood. You loved that about this, about him. This absent need for words when the two of you came together like two halves of a whole. No matter what he could read you, and while you still stumbled occasionally, you were confident that you could read him too.

Opening the door to his bedroom you had to contain your urge to grin. There was a very carefully placed chair as close to the center of the room as you could manage. A chair Sylus instantly recognized with a slow exhale of a chuckle. Always willing to explore desires with you, he’s tied you to the very same chair many times before. Always he’d dance masterfully along a line of pain and pleasure that left you reeling and in this floating space afterwards that he always brought you back from with such sweet words and tender care. You had no delusions of trying to replicate what he did, but you had some ideas you’re hoping he’d be interested in.

“If you wanted to play, kitten, all you had to do was ask.” Sylus purred at your back, hand nearly slipping from yours until you held tighter. He always reaches for your waist first, casually saying once that it simply was where his hands belonged.

“I do want to play.” You nodded, pulling him towards the chair before finally stopping and turning to face him, suddenly feeling your face heat up.

“While I didn’t plan for our whole talk on vulnerability earlier, I did want to try something different.” 

You struggled to speak over the forming lump in your throat and not think about how intense Sylus was watching you. He was always like that, you tried to reason with yourself, but you knew it was different. Still, you knew he waited patiently, even as your hand fidgeted in his.

“Control is important to you.” You finally manage, looking at your entwined fingers. “Important, but exhausting. Always making decisions, always thinking of every scenario, every way something can go wrong, and the steps to make sure it doesn’t. I just- I wanted you to have a moment to let go of that and… and trust me to hold it for you just for a little bit. No thinking, just feeling.” 

You felt his hand on your face and instantly nuzzled into it with a sigh, almost nervous to see his reaction to your stumbling rambles. Almost. Your eyes flicked upwards to look at him and it left your heart racing at the way his cheeks and ears had gone that cute shade of red you adored. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world and it was only in these special moments that you truly felt it. You bit your lip when he breathlessly said your name.

“You’ve had control this whole day.” His gentle words made you take in a quivering breath. “Do you have any expectations for how this ends? Something about testing my patience…?”

Now his other hand was on your other cheek, cradling your face as he kissed you momentarily. Soft and sweet, all his feelings in a single action. An action of pure, unbridled love that burned his insides with its heat. A flame you willingly gave yourself to if only so the two of you could burn together.

“As long as we go to bed happy and satisfied, how we get there is part of the fun.” You affirm with his lips just barely parted from yours. His answering quirk of his lips had you buzzing with renewed excitement.

“I think we can work with that.”

You had to resist the frantic delight rushing through you as he gestured to himself as if to say “do as you please.” You first point to the chair, voice quiet and firm.

“Sit.” 

As he did, you went to the collection of playthings you prepared and slid a long, narrow piece of black silk into your hand and walked behind Sylus with it. His posture was relaxed, but you were able to see his anticipation the way his fingers drummed along his legs. You kissed the shell of his ear while draping the silk over his eyes. These eyes struck fear into the denizens of the N109 zone and anyone stupid enough to become an annoyance on his radar. For you, they were an endless expression of adoration.

“The silk one is nice.” He commented quietly. You usually asked for a linen or cotton blindfold since it felt the most comfortable to you.

“I thought you might like it the best.” 

You kissed his temple while taking your time to tie the ends together. Firm. Secure. You slid two fingers beneath the fabric before draping your arms over his shoulders to kiss the top of his head. Your hands run down his chest, toying with the buttons again.

“Good?” You asked quietly, going agonizingly slow undoing one button at a time.

“Very good.” Sylus purred in response, relaxing his head back into the softness of your chest.

“You need to wear this again. I like it.” You comment on his extravagant birthday outfit.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You removed each accessory from his clothing with a methodical slowness, as if it were a sacred ritual. One piece at a time, your fingers trailing along exposed skin for moments longer than necessary. Your body heat would move around him, tease him with your closeness, but he kept his hands down. He didn’t reach for you, though the little twitches in his hands when you’d drag your fingernails lightly over his exposed collar bone or his wrist told you how much he wanted to. 

“You’re doing quite well keeping your hands to yourself.” You praised before kissing just below his ear, drinking in his labored inhale.

“It’ll take more than this for me to give in, sweetie.” You loved the smugness in his voice. The complete confidence. You wanted to ruin it.

“Oh I know.” 

Your words were punctuated with you easing the suit jacket off of him, treating it with extreme care like everything else. You held it selfishly close for a moment, basking in his scent that clung to the fabric. His fancy cologne was a custom mix meant to enhance his natural scent and fuck if it didn’t do its job. You could bathe yourself in this smell and still it wouldn’t be enough. There was also the barest hint of motor oil and gunpowder that always clung to his skin and even these you found yourself enjoying more than you thought possible. You loved your pistols long before him, but being reminded of Sylus everytime you discharged shots into a wanderer was a silent pleasure beyond making the area a little safer.

Hanging the suit coat up, you returned to your lover’s side and plucked the few remaining buttons loose. He always reminded you of those grand marble statues a master artist carves over the course of years to attain perfection. Sylus shivered with a quiet curse when you suddenly raked your nails down his abdomen. Hard enough to whiten the skin before blood rushed in to leave faint red lines trailing your movement. You watched him for a moment, taking in the barely controlled breathing and the way he wet his lips.

You were painfully silent. He loved to hear you be it talking, singing, or his favorite being your sounds of pleasure. His senses were already greater than any humans, so you maintained your steady breath so he wouldn’t even get the pleasure of knowing how much this ruined you as it did him. His hands were curled into fists now. Not quite white-knuckled, but you’re sure you could get there if you wanted. 

When you removed his shirt, your knee just barely nudged against the prominent bulge in his pants. Light enough that it could’ve been an accident. You grinned to yourself seeing those fists clench tighter and hearing your name on his lips so quiet like a prayer. 

Again, you were dragging your hand from shoulder, across his chest to the other shoulder. You trailed your knuckles up from there, feather-light in your drag up his neck and cheek. He turned his face into your hand, panting like he needed the contact to breathe easier.

“Put your arms behind your back, love.” You murmured to him, rewarding his careful restraint with an open caress to his cheek.

Going back to your selection of toys, you picked up blood red ropes. He’s tied you with these very same ones, forcing your legs to be spread and hands pinned to your back. He always talked you through the way he tied your body up, letting you watch. You’d spent countless nights practicing the very same ties to keep his arms behind him so when you started the careful knotting Sylus hummed.

“You’ve planned this for a while.” He murmured, starting to calm his breathing now that you weren’t touching him constantly. “You can go tighter sweetie.”

Your pause was only momentary, nodding, then going to make things tighter.

“Better?” You lifted your hand to run in through Sylus’s hair, always tickled how he turned into your touch like a needy puppy. You had half a mind to say as much.

“Mm. Let me teach you next time.” 

You grabbed his jaw to turn his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. He tried to be greedy by biting your bottom lip and despite your grin, you pulled back with a click of your tongue.

“Naughty boy.” You hummed, watching his hands easily flex behind his back with his low chuckle.

You quietly retreated to your own personal wardrobe Sylus long since let you claim for yourself. Hidden at the bottom beneath some loungewear was a simple black box that contained lingerie you got when Tara dragged you into a boutique because she wanted help finding something cute, but sexy. You didn’t pry, but something had caught your eye. The saleslady noticed immediately and talked you into buying it. She was very good at her job.

“Changing into something? I can’t wait.” 

You stuck your tongue out at Sylus even if he couldn’t see it. Then you slid your panties down your legs and watched his whole body tense, head turning in your direction. You pulled on the lacy under-things. The sheer fabric was stitched with decorative roses and hugged your figure. Pulling on the garters and stockings it matched with, you scooped up your soiled panties to return to your boyfriend’s side.

“Kitten…” Sylus exhaled when you drew near enough. He pulled against his restraints and growled softly.

You settled onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs. His groan was instant, head dropping to land in your tits perfectly held together by the lingerie. You held in your own noise feeling his cock throbbing against your ass. Your own restraint and patience would be tested before this was done.

“You must be aching.” You coo. “Poor thing.”

You drew your hand up his side to his chest, playfully circling a nipple with your nail. It made his hips buck into yours, making you gasp softly. It was all he needed to latch onto your neck, dragging his tongue over your skin and bite into it with blunt teeth. A part of you wanted to give in then and there, let him take you, but instead you dragged your hand to the back of his hair and yanked back non too gently. Sylus whined being dragged away from your neck and feeling your weight leaving his lap. “Wait- no. Come back, kitten. I’ll be good.” Sylus panted, desperate to feel your body against him.

His desperation went straight to your core, making you want to touch your aching clit. To drag his cock from his pants and ride him stupid. You clenched your wet panties in your hand, using the hand in his hair to drag his head back again.

“Open.” You ordered, managing to sound far more authoritative than you felt. You watched his hips buck into nothing.

He obeyed, after a few moments. Perfect lips parted to open his mouth to you and you leaned in close, murmuring right against his ear.

“Be grateful for this. I was half a mind to not let you have this at all for that stunt.” You shoved your panties in his mouth, letting him have a mere taste of the want you’ve felt all day. A truly weak noise broke its way from his throat, letting you see his arms strain and hips sadly rock into nothing. You noted, however, his teeth were tightly clenched now. A beast given a toy and now unwilling to allow you to take it back. You even tugged lightly on the waistband of the underwear only to be growled at, making you grin.

“Nasty.” you whispered through your glee. “I wore that all day and you’re gnawing on it like a dog with a bone.”

Sylus was silent, save for his low growling. He didn’t care if you were right . He was unwilling to let his prize go just for the sake of a few words lest you take it away from him. Your faint touch to his thigh made him jump as you circled him again to your collection of goodies.

Your grin was positively wicked as you eased the top off a small ice box. You popped one icecube in your mouth and took another one with you as you silently put the lid back over the box. Playing with temperatures has become one of your favorite things with Sylus. The sting of hot wax hitting your skin was horribly delicious and he looked at you with such reverence painting your stomach with the quick-to-cool wax.

“You must be burning up, love. This should help.” You hummed sweetly. 

You pressed the ice cube to his beating pulse in his neck and watched his head lull to the opposite side with a groan. You could feel the accusation that you were being so mean to the needy birthday boy.

Dragging the ice down along his collarbone, you watched the melting liquid bead down his chest in tiny rivulets. Then you circled a nipple with the ice while teasing the zipper to his pants. It fascinated you to see black scales faintly start to collect along his limbs. His restraint was waning. If that hadn’t been obvious before, the way he jerked his arms and snarled slightly certainly did. You paused your ministrations, watching his chest heave with every breath.

“You’ve been so good so far, love. Is this the end of your patience?” It was an unspoken challenge. Both of you knew he could end this at any point, throw you onto the bed, and claim you again and again until you couldn’t think anymore. Still, your words seemed to remind him of himself and his worked up thrashing settled down, even if the scales remained.

You waited a few more moments before dragging the nearly melted ice cube to the other nipple, pressing in to the area until it melted to nothing while you dragged open the zipper to his pants. You drew a heart into his chest with the wetness remaining on your finger. Palming his cock through his underwear made your pussy clench around nothing. You felt ridges and heavy pulsing veins. A needy sound tore from Sylus’s throat as you touched his neglected cock, rocking desperately into your hand.

Instead, you tugged the rest of his pants and underwear down with his eager assistance. His cock throbbed against his abdomen, tip an angry red and weeping with precum. You kneeled between his legs, hands resting on his knees so he could feel you. The ice cube you popped in your mouth has long melted, but it still left it a pleasant coolness to your lips and tongue.

You kissed the underside of the tip, letting a hand settle at the base of his cock to rub your thumb lightly against the outline of his knot. His hips only twitched, moans muffled by the panties he still stubbornly held onto. That was until you dragged the head of him into your cool mouth and dragged your tongue along the weeping slit. 

His jaw dropped to make the most toe-curling groan you’ve heard from him. It made your clit pulse and ache. Nearly made you trip over your own concentration.

“Fuck. Fuck, kitten. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Sylus begged you. He repeated his soft pleas, more desperate than the last, and your name. You knew he was close with the way his breath hitched and how his knot swelled slightly. You let him sit at the edge, staring up at him with a diabolical grin. Your lips left him with a soft sucking sound to be met with his frantic whining. Your hand dragged down below that slowly swelling knot and squeezed. Whining melted quickled into begging before settling back into snarling like before. 

“You’re okay.” You chided, resting your head against his knee. You felt a sense of awe and wonder seeing twisting horns adorn his head. “Wouldn’t you rather cum inside me?” Sylus settled, the ropes that had started whining in protest going silent. Only his ragged breathing filled it.

“Yes.” A single word in response, rough in a way that dragged down your spine. “I want to see you.”

You shivered. He wasn’t asking, begging, or demanding. It was a simple command that you stood up to obey immediately. You couldn’t resist when he talked like that. 

Your fingers were trembling slightly as they tugged the knot you made loose. Slowly silk dropped from Sylus’s eyes and the moment his eyes were free, they were staring at you- and it took your breath away. Red eyes burned into you, dilated pupils constricting in response to the soft light of the room. They never left your face.

You thought maybe you should say something, lips parting, but all that escaped was a shocked yelp as something curled around your waist as Sylus stood. That’s when you realized with a rising anticipation, that he’d been freed from those ropes the moment they’d gone silent. You could hardly process that it was a tail wrapping around you because he was backing you up towards the bed.

You fell back onto it with a gasp, flushing as clawed hands ran down your bare thighs to push them further apart for him to settle between. This was one of those times where he was unreadable to you. Was he upset? That was opposite of what you wanted. Uncertainty gnawed at you as you laid a single hand against his abdomen, a silent request to stop. He did, but his tail curled tighter around your waist.

“Did… did you not like it?” You hated that you sounded so small even to your own ears.

You felt his tail flex around you a few moments before he was crawling over you, settling between your legs like it was where he belonged. Your lip quivered as his hands, so gentle despite the claws, held your face. He leaned down, resting his forehead to yours, eyes closed before pulling back slightly to see you again.

“It was… more overwhelming than I expected.” He breathed quietly. “But yes… I liked it very much. Too much, maybe, because everything in me wants to act like a beast in making you mine. My mate. Mine to claim.”

Relief flooded you, so much so that you smiled and giggled, draping your arms around his shoulders and neck to pull him closer.

“Well… We did see a lot of different animals today… annddd I’m still an animal- and so are you.” You hummed, tilting your head as his face buried into your neck, the rumbles he made sounding like purring. “You showed me your vulnerable belly, I’ve shown you mine. What are we if not mates?”

Sylus didn’t really respond in words. He pulled your legs over his hips so that he could slide his cock into you in a single, easy movement instead. Bites were littered along your neck as he rocked in an almost lazy manner into you.

Your growing noises were music to his ears. Every gasp and sigh made up for the ages he’s gone without your presence. You were there, in his arms, right where you should be. “Sylus.” His name on your lips was its own blessing. One that dragged his head back just so that he could look at your flushed face, still dolled up in this pretty lace he resisted tearing apart when pushing it aside so he could slip into you.

“Does biting me act as a claim for you?” You asked, touching his face. So gentle. You were always so gentle with him.

“Yeah.” He murmured, dragging a hand up to your mark-riddled neck, tracing the harsh indents in your skin. “But so is filling you up. Claiming you. Letting the whole world see you carry my children. It drives me mad, imagining your belly round with my baby.”

You choked back a sob of pleasure as he finished his words in a growl, shifting slightly so his next thrust hit even deeper. You were clenching around him, needing him as badly as he needed you. 

You barely needed to tug at a wrist before his hand slid between your legs, rubbing tight little circles into your swollen clit. It was just the thing you needed as you started arching your back. Every inch of him was like it existed purely to please you. The ridges on his cock dragged against that delicious spot inside you that made you buck your hips in time with his. Even his knot, teasing at your entrance, drove you mad, knowing it’d plug you up with the intention of ensuring you didn’t leave the encounter without getting pregnant.

Then, Sylus practically bent you in half. His tail shifted to support your lower back as he pushed your legs up, nearly making your knees touch your shoulders. The next thrust from this made you wail, clawing your nails along his arms. The tip of his cock met your cervix and you swear you were starting to see stars.

“Sylus! Hhaa…Fuck! Fuck… close- ‘mso close, baby. Please! Wan’ you to cum with me… Sylus… need you-” You frantically babbled with tears in your eyes, overwhelmed as your orgasm was just on the cusp of hitting.

Sylus groaned deeply, watching you come apart around him. Such a sight will never fail to ruin him as his hips stuttered.

“My pretty girl… my mate…” He breathed out, shaking when he looked down between you to watch as he fucked his knot into you. It took several heartbeats before he forced it inside your tight pussy.

The denial earlier mixed with the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy made him whine as he was finally cumming in you. Greedy rolls of his hips tried to make it all go deeper, like he wanted it all right in your womb. 

He gently rolled you both so you could rest on him, knowing his knot wouldn’t be fading anytime soon. Not when his cock was still weakly spurting cum in your full pussy until it felt like  your belly itself grew taught from it all. It was like those holidays where you’d eat your fill and then some. 

As both of your breathing started to even out, you lifted your head to look at him. He was already watching you, as he always was.

“You know… I like how humans show their claim.” Sylus broke the silence with a lazy smile. “Metal bands decorated with gems. Eye catching. Obvious. A statement.” He reached to twirl some of your hair around his finger. “Would you want something like that?”

You could hit this man for the things he says like it's nothing. Instead you just gawked at him lifting your hand to push your palm against his cheek, only for him to take it and kiss it.

“Sylus!” You gasped in exacerbation, not sure if you should laugh or cry because his dick was still buried in you, but he might have just-

“Are you asking me to marry you? Right here? Like this?” He tilted his head like you were being the weird one, still sporting that lazy grin.

“I was just asking if you wanted rings. You said it yourself, what are we if not mates, hm?” He chuckled as your face scrunched up and you tried to playfully shove his face again, and again he caught your hand. This time he drags his sharp teeth along your palm.

“If you want it to be a proposal though, that’s fine too.” 

He said it so casually, but the words made it impossible to think.

“...You can come up with an actual proposal and surprise me.” You finally landed on, trailing your finger down his nose. “Since we both know the answer is yes.” 

Despite his nonchalant demenor, his face went completely red. He was so easy to read sometimes. It made you laugh softly, smiling at him as everything settled and just felt so right.

“Happy birthday, Sylus. I always want to celebrate this day with you, because you being born means I get to have you in my life.”

Sylus’s gentle eyes and smile that bordered with deep emotion left nothing unsaid as he leaned in to kiss you. You alone are the reason this day has any meaning, and he’ll celebrate it with you every year in this life and the next, because him existing means he gets to have you.