18+ because I'm going to reblog things. just a clown, trying to get Wanderers, but I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm also sleepy while all these men thirst for me.
It's ME the little goth clown that I am, and the relationships I'd think I'd have with the lads if I was MC. also I'm going to write it because it can be a little confusing!!!!
Xavier's Thoughts
-Please stop being reckless
-pearl from steven universe singing do it for her~
TAGS. MDNI! NSFW CONTENT! explicit content. Implied dubcon. unprotected intercourse. use of aphrodisiac(their pre/cum/saliva, that is). monster fucking(they got crazy dicks, except for xav, sorryyyy). Xavier has an alien like tongue though. dirtytalk. SIZE KINK. biting. scratching. posessiveee(especially xavier). they r incubus y'all so... it's a lottt. missionary(xavier, rafayel). cowgirl(caleb, zayne). Mating press(sylus duhhh). oral(fem! receiving) in xavs'. implied anal teasing in calebs. saliva. spit(in zaynes. a lotttt.) dacryphilia. dumbification. Blood k!nk. implications of myth sylus and rafayel.
A/N; HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We made it luvs! Didn't think I'd be able to actually complete my knktober lmaoo. This is a bit of a mess… I wrote each one of the guys on separate occasions, I think I wrote lil crumbs of Sylus' back in June(??) bc I wanted to make some headcanon for him ig. Rafayel's and Xavier's have some bits crafted in of an old draft of mine's too, been wanting to clear my drafts out slowly hihih. I just hope it's not tooo noticeable that I had different moods when I wrote each of them lmaoo. Btw I went crazy on Zayne's bruh oh ma gawwwd something possessed me that day. And yesss Rafayel has long hair just like in his myth hehe, hope that's clear! Anyways, enjoyyy xoxo^^
K!NKTOB€R 2025!
Xavier ꩜ Temptation's Bite! ~2.0k
Your breath is uneven, shallow gasps escaping as frustration claws at you, hands sneaking into your short pj pants in desperate need to just get some kind of relief.
A deep, insatiable ache pulses through you, wrapping around your body like a fever you can't seem shake. Body hot and bothered, you're unable to focus on anything but your needy pussy crying out for relief.
Until something catches your attention in the corner of your room.
A shadow that doesn't belong. A presence so sufforcating it sends a shiver straight down your spine and sends a fresh wave of air around your room before you even lay eyes on him.
He— or it— stands at the foot of your bed now, watching you, waiting, the barest hint of amusement playing on his lips and dancing in the glint of his eyes, sharp canies slightly visible.
And the faint glow of the night filters through the window, illuminating his sharp features, the wicked gleam in his gaze. His body is nothing but pure sin—lean muscle, sculpted milky body perfection.
Broad, almost angelically white wings fan out from his back, each feather catching faint light, glowing softly on their own like the twisted, sharp horns jutting from his head, glow subtle, but ethereal nontheless.
"Can't sleep?"
His deep, rumbling voice startles you. "Poor thing. So restless," his eyes drift down to your tangled form, examining your hand burried inside your panties, "and so needy."
Your breath hitches, heart hammering in your chest so hard you think it might jump out.
Who is he and why does he look so familiar?
Then it clicks, he's the man, no— demon from your dreams, the one who lingers in the shadows of your mind from the moment you close your eyes to the moment you stirr awake in the morning.
But he's not supposed to be real. And yet, here he is.
He moves before you can blink, suddenly looming over you, one knee pressing into the mattress, fingers trailing along the edge of your sheets. The heat of his body radiates over you, dangerous glimmer around him as he preys down your shivering from.
"W-what are you—"
He leans in, smirk deepening, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. "You know damn well, pretty. You called me," he murmurs, voice dripping with sin. "Every toss and turn, every needy little whine in the dark, I heard it all."
"N-no, I didn't—"
"Lying doesn't suit an angel like yourself." His fingers ghost down your arm, then lower, ghosting along your inner thigh.
The desire for him to feel up on your body, give you what you've been craving for is so intense, your whole body's on fire.
"I can feel it, you know? How badly you want to be touched riiiiight—" His hand ghosts, just barely over your glazed short cotton, the pads of his fingers catching onto your clit just lightly, robbing a whimper from you, "—here."
His whole presence screams sin and danger, but isn't it just what you've been longing for all along? The one you've been dreaming of for so long now?
Your tensed legs loosen, spreading open only for his sharp eyes to instantly shoot down, examining the large damp spot on the lace before he's on you, mouth claiming yours with a hunger, sharp, ivory fangs catching onto the soft flesh of your lip.
And his tongue is mind-numbing, so unnaturally long, ribbed in ways no tongue should be, as it suckles on yours like it has a will of its own. Each ripple of its textured surface makes your eager cunt throb in anticipation, kiss so searing as his tongue's coiling and sliding against yours.
And you grow hotter, needier with every drop of his saliva he smears into your mouth, the thick sweet taste intoxicating you. It has to be doing something to you, because the second it coats your tongue your body flares, pussy gushing so hard your soaked little pj shorts stick to you like a second skin.
You're embarrassingly dripping, wetter than you've ever been in your life, and it only gets worse each time the surface of his tongue suckles at your lips.
When his thumb presses against your clothed clit, circling with harsh patterns, the pressure building inside you spikes, only for him to rip the cloth, exposing your flushed skin to the cool night air.
And you can't help but wonder how that monstrous tongue would feel against your pus—
"Hmmm," he hums, fingers sliding down your stomach, pausing just shy of where you need him most between your legs. "Such a desperate little thing... do you even realize in what situation you're in right now?"
Yeah, you do. And you couldn't be happier.
Your hips arch in search of friction, but he only chuckles, dragging his lips down your throat, the odd surface of his tongue flicking against your skin until you shiver.
"Patience," he murmurs against your skin, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp, "Want to take my time with you. We have all night, no?"
His mouth rushes lower until finally he's between your thighs, staring at your sobbing pussy in total awe, vicious grin curling his lips as his tongue darts out, already drooling from excitement.
"Ohhh, angel," he growls, droplet of drool plopping down right onto your clit, "You have noooo idea how long I've been waiting to taste you. The real you."
A strangled moan slips free from you when his fingers part your folds, exposing your pulsing clit, and then his inhuman tongue lashes out, curling and wrapping around your dainty button in one obscene motion. It drags a fat, wet lick all the way down your slit, only to coil back up and tighten, suctioning hard against your little button.
Fingers catching his solid horns and some of his light hair, you're tugging hard because you don't know what else to do, already loosing your mind.
He groans at the sting, the sound sending a sickening shockwave through his tongue as it quite literally vibrates against your swollen button, his glowing eyes flicking up to watch your mouth falling agape.
"Dirty fuckin' girl."
He mumbles against you, horns carelessly poking at your fleshy thighs locked around his head, grip tightening on them as he begins to devour you, tongue flicking your bundle of nerves wildly, pressing deeper into your folds. He's eager, tongue dragging through your soaked folds, greedily lapping up the slick juices that gushes for him.
His tongue is out of this world, so damn obscene, flattening broad against your pussy to suck, little suctions on the surface tearing whine after whine from you, then twisting sharp and pointed, plunging alllll the way inside. The ribbed surface drags against your walls as it thrusts, curling and stroking every inch of your gushing walls until your body bows up off the bed with a loud scream.
Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
And then it vibrates again, the sudden buzzzzz reverberating deep inside, the sound and sensation so intense you sob, your entire core rocking as if he's drilling straight through you with nothing but his mouth. Your thighs clamp around his head, shaking, but he only growls low, vibration intensifying as if he cranked up a setting, your vision bursting into white stars.
A sharp cry tears from your throat, and he growls in response with his fingers replacing his tongue, sliding in, pumping in a delicate rhythm that has your spine bowing off the mattress.
A dark shine is in his eyes, preying over your twisting expressions as his pace quickens, fingers curling to slam into your g-spot again and again until you're gasping and shaking, clinging onto his fair locs for dear life again.
The pleasure builds and it's unbearable, so overwhelming, coiling tighter and tighter until you shatter beneath him, body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you. Xavier smirks against your skin, licking his lips as he crawls back up, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss.
"Sweet thing", he whispers, voice laced with a hunger that isn't going to be satisfied anytime soon, "C'mere," his teeth are bare now, saliva and slick collecting at the corner of his mouth as his hands work their way down to your hips, "we're not done yet."
Claws digging into your flesh, he lifts you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing at all, caging you between his arms. His blown pupils lock onto yours, the predatory gleam in them sending a jolt of excitement through your body.
And you're still not satisfied, body screaming for more as your shaky legs curl tighter around his slender hips, dragging him closer with a silent beg, eyes oggling at his hefty girth needily jumping against your thigh.
"Please," you whisper, voice barely a breath. "P-please, Xavier. Need more."
"Ohhhh, I know, pretty girl."
Sneaky fingers trace slow circles over your skin before they dip lower, sliding your legs apart as his body presses against yours. And he doesn't shy away to grasp your hips, pulling you closer, his leaking tip sliding down sloooowly from the bottom of your tummy to your aching clit, all the way to your agape hole, leaving a trail of thick pre in it's wake.
As his pre paints your body you swear you feel the heat in your body shooting up, and it feels like you're having a fever at this point.
There is no going back now, not when his fangs lightly tease the delicate skin of your neck while plunding into you in one smooth, brutal ram, stretch so delicious, your pussy sucks him in with a greedy wail.
The repeated plap, plap, plap that echoes with each thrust of his demonous hips sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, each prod at your cervix earning a hichup from your small, quickering form, breaking you apart piece by piece.
"Xav'— O-oh!"
Every thick vein of his cock drags through your gushing pussy, and he can't hide the mischevous smirk that stretches across his lips, his face hidden in the crook of your neck.
Xavier groans, a sound so rough it scrapes straight through your core, his mouth breaking your skin. His his thrusts turn harder, faster, trying to imprint himself in the depths of your soul.
"Ohhh, you loveee gettin' your pussy bullied huh?" he taunts, pulling out until only his tip catches your entrance before slamming back in hard enough to make you cry out, a lewd squelching cry coming from your cunt. "S-sure you're not a succubus? Fuckkk!"
You can barely nod, can't even find the words as you feel his swelling head forcefully ram against your womb. Every suger-coated word, every little leak of his pre and each lick over your breaking skin makes you more desperate, hornier.
His hands grip the sheets beside your head as he curses at the vice-like grip of your feisty cunt, because if he really let go, he'd break you in half.
"Gonna keep going til' your legs don't work, til'—" he snarls as you clench around him— hard, his lips slick with a mixture of saliva and a string of blood now brushing your ear. "Til' you're allll mine."
You clench around him, again, trapping him in your warmth as the pleasure spikes again, tension inside you coiling impossibly tighter tighter and tighter and fuck, you're close, so damn close.
Hot, fresh tears roll down your cheeks, your head shooting back into your sheets as breathy and broken moans erupt from you.
And that bastard of a demon laughs, his cock twitching inside you in victory, feeling your limit creeping up with each flutter of your overwhelmed folds.
You choke out his name, again, again and again, voice shaking as you chant whatever with your mind turning into mush— and he's loving it.
"You sound so pretty like this, my pretty little angel," his moan is possessive, hips thrusting into your trembling body with demonic force, vicious girth forcing your fluttering walls into a burning stretch.
Right when his fat tip kisses your cervix again your orgasm slams into you like a bullet train, back arching, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his hips. You sob through it, voice caught in your throat, the world going white as you clench around him in helpless spasms.
"M-mine— fuuuuck! Alllll mine. Yeahhhh, take it, allll of it—"
His voice falls flat as he pumps his load deep, grinding as he pours into you with a heat that makes you whimper. Thick, evil hot ropes fill you, spill from the corners of your overflowed pussy, his cock jerking with every drop as he groans into your hair.
"You're mine now," he whispers through his gritted fangs, voice drenced in vicious intent, as if claiming ownership of your very soul.
You don't need to answer or utter a word. The truth is already written, sealed even, in the way your stuttering hole clenches desperatly to keep his thick white ribbons inside.
"And I'll make sure you'll never forget it."
Sylus ꩜ Wicked Games! ~2.3k
It's late when you finally slip into the warm comfort of your bed with your silken red robe, the soft rustling of sheets surrounding you in the quiet night.
The wind howls just beyond the window, but it's only when you hear the faintest of sounds, like the distant brush of what seemed like claws against your matress, that you start to sense something isn't quite right tonight.
You roll over, trying to ignore the discomfort creeping up your spine, the feeling of eyes on you. But the moment you blink once more, someone hovers right above your resting body.
You're supposed to be startled, shocked or scream, no? But somehow, this creeping shadow seems all too familiar, like something— or someone you've seen before in your most desperate of dreams.
You know him.
Of course you do, how couldn't you? Those meaty biceps clawing at your mind, making you unable to ever forget this face that has been haunting you in your restless dreams since god knows for how long.
Sylus.
An unnatural chill seeps into the warmth of your room when his eyes, dark red like fresh gushing blood meet yours, and you feel the full weight of his menacing hues piercing right through you, like he sees every secret and every naughty thought you've tried to bury.
And his hair is silver as the moonlight, big and long black horns pocking through them like daggers, broad black and red wings framing his body.
"Still awake?"
"You're not supposed to be here. This isn't— this can't be real," you stammer, trying to make sense of the impossible because, how the hell is the being from your sex dreams standing right infont of you in the flesh?!
He grins, that cocky smirk never leaving his lips, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. "Is this how you greet the one who's cock you've been yearning for all night long? I'm hurt, sweetie."
Heart stuttering in your chest, you shiver. But not from the cold, rather from the way his gaze drags over your body so shamelessly, as if he's already won the game you've had no recollection of even playing.
You push back, further away onto your bed as he steps closer, warry eyes staring him down with your fists clenched into the sheets, sweat forming at your temple, biting the inside of your cheek in thought.
Think think think— For fuck's sake, think of something!
"Did you miss me?"
His question hangs in the air, and just as you open your mouth to respond, no words dare to come out. It's like the world shrinks around you and him, traping you in this sufforcating atmosphere, unable to escape.
A hallucination? Possible, but no. To vivid.
The bed creaks slightly as Sylus moves, fluid and graceful, like he's part of the shadows themselves. His every movement seems calculated, predatory, and as he sits next to you, the weight of him settling in beside you like an inescapable force.
Sleep paralysis? Also no. You can move.
His icy clawed fingers brush your shoulder, your robe slipping over your slick skin, sending a jolt through your body. His touch is gentle, yet there's nothing innocent about it.
"You feel that?," he murmurs, voice just above a whisper, lips dangerously close to your ear, "That desire? That urge?," his other hand brushes your cheek now, and your wondering what step you missed for him to already be on the bed, "The one you fall asleep with every night?," his claw hooks around your robe now, teasing the hem, "The one only I can satisfy?"
Fuck, he's actually real.
The path his claws leave down your arm scratch you like fire, goosebumps racing across your skin as your body shivers, tightening in his cold. You should be terrified, screaming, or even push him away, but you sit still, glossy eyes following the trail his fingers lead down to your thighs, exposing them to the cold night air.
He knows. Feels it, even.
Laughing with a knowing softness, he's relishing in every tiny twitch of your thighs or hitching breath when his claw scraped across your skin teasingly.
"I can feel you trembling, sweetie. But don't worry," He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your jawline as his weight further presses you into the matress, slight breeze of air hitting your face from his fluttering wings, "I won't bite. Unlesssss you want me to."
Before you can breathe, his hand slides up, cold claws trailing over your throat before wrapping firmly around the back of your neck to pull you close.
And you can't look away, not when his eyes hold your gaze so intensely, his blood-red orbs staring right into your soul.
Thumb, thumb, thumb.
Your clit's throbbing so hard under your red robe, you're sure he can hear it because he growls so deep you feel it through his heavy palm on your neck.
And as you're about to clasp your thighs shut, something big and heavy twitches right against your exposed thigh.
And you know exactly what it is.
With one quick glance down, your look past his heaving chest and halt right where his monsterous cock hangs thick in the air between you, abnormaly fat tip already glistening, a bead of pre slipping free only to driiiip down and soak into the thin fabric of your robe.
Holy fuck. He's hung. You've never seen a cockhead so fat, so inhumanly swollen. Because, well, he isn't exactly… human.
"Language, pretty."
Your eyes snap up, heat scorching your cheeks when you realize the words tumbled from your lips out loud. Sharp, wicked teeth flash with a grin, his fangs gleaming in the low light, just itching to sink into you.
Then his clawed hand wraps tight around his monstrous cock, squeezing the flushed crown until a thick bead of pre swells and spills, grinding the leaking head right over your clit, smearing his sweet honey into your robe until it seeps through the thin fabric.
And the moment it soaks in, your body sizzles with your nerves on fire, clit twitching violently, a drugging haze of lust clawing at your brain. That damned pre-cum of his is burning you alive, somehow making you wetter, hornier, even.
The sound that rips out of you is embarrassing, something between a gasp and a moan, so lewd in the heavy air of schlick schlick schlicks, and your thighs won't stop shaking so violently with need, it feels like your body's going to explode any second now.
"What?," Tone dripping with mockery, his voice thick with eager lust as he fists his cock and draaaags the fat head over your hidden pussy again, another streak of slick painting the silk, he's careful not to let is slip to the side, heat seeping easily through to your pulsing clit, "It's not like it's the first time you've taken it, sweetie."
"B-but—"
The protest dies in your throat because you don't think you could take even his tip, so ridiculously huge that just the weight of it pressing over your clothed cunt feels like too much.
But he's right, though. You have taken him before. In your dreams, at least. Again and again, night after night, you've felt that bulky head forcing you open, splitting you so goddamn wide, and made yourself cry out for him until you woke up soaked, poor pussy aching from the phantom stretch.
But now? Now it's real.
"B-b-but? What?"
He leans in close after his mockery, lips grazing the shell of your ear as his cock drags slow and deliberate over you again, crueler now. The blunt head catches on the cloth, pressing hard against your squelching hole through the robe, your hips jerking up needily.
"No buts, pretty girl," he growls, sinking his firm hands into your hip hard enough to sting, before the sharp edges hook into the silk, tearing it clean in half with one devilish rip, leaving your body completely bare for him, "I know exactly what my sweet girl wants."
And before the sound in your throat even dies, he groans deep in your ear as his fingers squeeze your perky nipple, nails scraping lightly over it just as he drives his cock down through your sobbing cunt. The blunt crown pops against your entrance with a slick, loud plop! making you jolt. He's so heavy and swollen, every vein perfectly pronounced, girth massive enough to shadow your stomach.
And that tip— god, that abnormally fat tip presses insistently at your hole, far too big, stretching your lil' cunny just with the weight of it, not helping one bit with the monstrous girth following behind.
Your breath's caught in your throat when his other hand clamps the back of your neck, thick fingers curling tight to tilt your face just right, making sure you can't look away from his fat head sloooowly pushing past your hole.
His wings twitch violently, gaze lingering low on your puffy clit, then higher to the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against your shirt.
"Tell me," he muses, cockhead grinding harder into your gooey walls, smearing more slick onto you, "how badly do you want it this time?"
"B-bad," you choke, voice high and eager, hips twitching up up up at the stretch of just his tip threateningly spearing you open, "Really bad."
"Oh?," Silver brow arching, cruel grin spreading slow across his sharp features, "That's all it took for you to talk?"
Then his scaled tail lashes around your thigh, coiling tight like a serpent, wrenching your leg open wider until his fat head's halfway in, tears burning at your lashline.
"Please."
"That's more like it," he purrs, throat bobbing as he watches your hole suckle on his red crown, fingers flexing against your hip, "That's the way my good little girl begs."
Each shallow and messy stroke of his tip sinking in then jumping out again leaves messy streaks of pre smeared across your slippery pussy, until your thighs quiver and your hands claw at his tail snaked around your leg, pulling with impatience.
"I told you, didn't I?" his smug voice brings you back to reality, cruel teasing. "You want me here."
With a quick kiss to your shiny lips he smirks against you, fangs teasing your bottom lip before his strong arms make quick work to fold you in half, forcing the air out of your lungs as he pushes your legs up your chest, "And now—," he muses, sudden drag of his scaled tail making your whole body seize once the sharp tip finds your swollen clit, circling it with wicked precision, "—you're going to let me in."
Quite literally.
The blunt, fat crown of his cock forces past your swollen, tight entrance with a brutal push. You shriek, body jolting as he stretches you wide, wider than you've ever taken, the obscene girth splitting you open, thick head spearing deep, shoving past that tight ring and plowing until the very tip slams against the farthest point of your guts with a wet, brutal plop!
The stretch is unbearable and dizzying, pain getting tangled with the pleasure of his repeated knock knock knocks at your cervix, your walls clenching around the throbbing veins.
"Nghhh! Shoooo good!"
You're sobbing at this point, tears streaming down your face as your belly balloons around his monstrous cock. One of your trembling hands flies down to press against your stuffed stomach, mouth falling slack as he rams deeper, while the other claws desperately at his devilish tail, still looping around your clit.
"Too big, Sy! M' fuh-full!"
"Too big? But sweetheart, you're taking it."
And then he pulls back, dragging that fat cockhead along your raw walls before slamming back in, the wet sound so violent as your poor cunt milks at his angry head, mattress screaming beneath you, your body bouncing on the bed with each mean thrust he forces into you.
"H-hahh! I can't, I—"
"Yes you can. Just look."
You try, folding over onto yourself as best you can, head bobbing awkwardly, eyes straining to take in every obscene detail of your own stuffed pussy. His claws dig into the back of your thighs, tail coiled tight around your clit, and the moment your gaze lands, the pleasure hits like a wave.
Eyes rolling back, your thighs quake, juices slicking down his length as his tail flicks faster, sharper, tapping your clit with maddening rhythm while his fat cock drives you crazy, your legs wobbling over your head.
Then you feel the twitching pulse of his swelling head, he groans with a broken voice, rutting faster, until—
"My turn now now, sweetie."
With one broken moan he's spurting his sweet sticky mess into you in buckets of white, the molten heat gushing into you, and already making you pant hard again as an indescribable neediness rushes over you.
"Ahhh! Soooo good! More— need more of it!"
You're pathetic, hips jerking uncontrollably, panting so hard you don't even care if you look like a complete mess right now. And when his massive cock swells to life inside you again, you scream out a moan shamelessly, throat raw, your walls getting back to greedily wrenching him for all he's worth.
"My needy girl."
Fangs graze your jaw as his tongue drags up your bobbing throat, licking at the salty streaks of tears glistening on your cheeks.
"I'll show you," shoving you further into the mattress, claws digging into your thighs, his tail's flicking harshly at your quivering clit, each flick sending shivers straight to your spine as he pushes your bent legs wider until your hips jerk and whine under the stretch,
"Show you what it means to summon me."
Rafayel ꩜ Whispers in Steam! ~2.0k
Frustrated. That's how you're feeling.
Warm water laps against your skin, surface shimmering with flickering candlelight. In here, everything is quiet except for just the sound of water sloshing as you shift restlessly, head resting against the porcelain edge of the tub.
Your days have been so long and exhausting, but more than anything, you've been feeling haunted and it's driving you insane. Aching in a way you can't even try explain for the past few weeks.
You see, you've had this dream. More than once.
A stranged man, if you could even call him that. But this stranger was enough to be still lingering on your mind, and you can't help but somehow miss his dreamy touch, the light graze of his teeth against your body and not to mention the otherworldly pleasure he's brought upon you over and over throughout the duration of your dreamscape.
It should've faded like every other dream, but it hasn't. And it feels like you're slowly loosing your mind because you swear you can still feel him deep inside you, his mosterous cock hitting every spot imaginable.
Yeah sure. They were just dreams.
But if there was even an inkling of a chance to make it real, you would risk it.
The exhaustion of the day slowly melts away with each slow inhale you take, eyes drifting shut as you lull yourself into the heat of the water, hovering into sleep.
You eyes flutter open with the slight shift of air, an uncomfortable kind, something that feels alive. And as your eyes adjust to the steam filled room, you think you're halucinating because—
He's here. In the flesh.
Perched on the edge of the tub, one hand resting on the surface, the other tracing idle patterns in the water. He watches you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.
Long, lilac hair falls in soft, careless waves over his forehead and shoulder, the fierce and dark lavender strands resembling the rippling moonlit surface of the ocean at midnight, pointy horns peek from his long messy set of locs.
His coral eyes, glowfaintly in the candlelight, shimmering like a lively coral reef in the deep sea. His milky skin, impossibly smooth, holding the faintest sheen of iridescence.
Did you fall asleep already? Because this can't be—
"Oh, no, cutie. You're very much awake."
What. the. fuck.
His lips curve into a smirk, revealing the sharp tips of fanged canines. Along his bare shoulders, faint etchings of scales gleam when he moves. Small, webbed ridges trace the curve of his ears, vanishing into the inky strands of his lilac hair.
"I'm guessing you had a long day?"
Your heart stutters, and you sit up abruptly, water sloshing over the edge, crawling further from his presence right next to you. "W-who are y—?"
"You already know."
You do.
Not his name, not the why of his presence, but something low in your bones knows he isn't human, that he doesn't belong here. And yet, your heart flutters in excitement.
He drags one hand lazily along the edge of the tub, teasing the water, eyes locked on you. The surface trembles, water moving out of its peace.
And your eyes linger a little too long on his slender, pale hand, the faint shimmer of scales tracing his skin in delicate patterns. Beautiful, almost holy, so radiant you could almost mistake him for an angel sent down to bless you.
But you know better. Angels don't look at you like that.
"You called me."
"I didn't."
Your voice's barely above a whisper, and he just hums knowingly, smirk teasing and laced with vicious intent.
"Not with words, silly girl."
His fingers dig into the bathtub as his body leans lower, and you shriek once his fingers brush your thigh, his glowing, coral hues so close to yours your heart skips a beat.
"You've been dreaming of me," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns lower, way too close, pausing himself as his gaze lingers on the droplets of water running down your perky nipples, "haven't you, cutie?"
Right. The dreams. The ones where you felt that addicitng heat curling low in your stomach as silken whispers met your ear.
His whispers.
His face is just mere inches from yours, "Just say the word and I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, voice more of a command that a suggestion, really.
"Rafayel."
You don't know how you know it. But the name spills from your lips like something so oddly familiar, rolling of your tongue with ease.
And you can just tell it's his name as his boyish grin splits into something darker, dainty scales along his cheekbone and temple shimmering with heat as he leans closer, too close, impatient for the sound of your surrender.
"Yesssss?"
"I… I want—"
He doesn't let you finish, doesn't care what follows from those puffy lips of yours, already moving before you can take another gaspy breath, scrambling into the tub with a rush of water that slaps against your skin.
Towering and dripping, he's forcing himself right into your space. His weight looms over you, suffocating, almost, his eyes already searching for where to touch next.
Claws twitching before sliding forward, tip-toeing beneath the water as two playful fingers skate over your ankles, dragging slowly up your calf, lingering at the crook of your bent knee before trailing down again, tracing the inside of your thigh. He pauses there, sharp points digging ever so slightly into your thighs, and his gaze snaps up to meet yours, breathing heavy as if he'd ran a marathon.
"Sorry for interrupting you, cutie," he purrs almost mockingly, biting back a moan once your thighs clasp around his hand with a frustrated whine from your lips, "What exactly do you want?"
You damn near scoff at his teasing, because you know that he's seconds away from taking you anyway.
The proof hangs thick in the air between you with the fat tip of his cock hovering just above the waterline, twitching with every shaky inhale you make, and every little whine you can't bite back.
"Want you to—"
Voice breaking, you swallow the rest with a gasp as his textured tip grazes your clit, girth of his adored with variously odd bumps and ripples, rubbing over your needy pussy just right, hand slithering along your calf under the water, curling around to pry your legs open wider.
"Tell me," he hushes you, chest brushing against yours, eyes glinting with desperate need, " whisper it right against my mouth, cutie. Just like you always do."
Before you can even form the full sentence, he presses his mouth to yours with a whine that vibrates through your core, shoving you back into the water with the weight of his body, the kiss so hungrily greedy, his tongue sweeping right into your mouth.
His hips grind just enough to let you feel the length of him brushing against your puffy clit, so much bigger than you had in memory from your dream. And so much more real.
A fine, syrupy mist seeps from his pores, tangling with the steam of the water, shooting up your nostrils and fogging your mind. Every thought that isn't about him quickly drifts away, leaving only the intense ache of your needy pussy.
You think you might faint from the sheer heat around you, heavy neediness ovecoming your whole body, head collapsing against his chest with your eyes rolling to the twitching tip of his fat, girthy cock hovering just above your soaked folds, and you thank the gods once another twitch manages to nudge your clit and slightly ease the burning ache inside you.
Pressing the fat head of his cock against your soaked folds as the water splashes around your tangled bodies, he's dragging his angry crown slowly to hook just enough into your already suckling pussy.
"G-goddd! —nghhh!—I need it nowww!" you squeak, hips bucking impatiently to suck his tip deeper inside, not minding the water dipping out of the tub that you'll probably curse yourself for having to clean up later.
"It's Rafayel to you, baby."
With that, he pushes in further, letting your greedy pussy take the lead as you let him sink in deep with delirious clenches, your weak arms shaking up to claw down onto his beefy biceps, scrating and tearing at them.
He's huge, slight curve of his girth directly hitting your sweetest spots inside, delicious stretch filling you so completely you can barely even remember how to breathe.
Eyes locked on yours, his scales glint wetly in the tub light, and every time he pulls back to harshly, cock slipping out, the rough bump on his tip draaaags over your clit, rubbing the hard abnormality tightly against it.
"Look at you," he murmurs, voice dripping with lust, his vicious pace leaving you panting and whining, fingers still clawing at his beefy arms with a paining grip as the various patterns wrapped around his girth rub your sore walls with percision, "your body knows me before your mind does."
You rut up into him instinctively, hips pressing, walls clenching. His thrusts are punishing, leaving you utterly powerless. But nothing quenches the ache inside.
"Awww, you're all drunk on me, baby."
And his words are just a projection, really. Because he's taut, jaw clenched, groaning low as little whimpers escape his lips, his tail twitching in time with his mean hips, hands gripping your trembling body as he fights to maintain his own composure.
It's obvious, he's just as wrecked, just as lost in this insane heat as you are.
Maybe it's that cursed mist curling off his skin in thick and sweet form, maybe it's doing something to him too. Or maybe, just maybe it's your drooling, needy little pussy that's making him feel so hot, so hungry. Your tacky walls are so addicting, turning him inside out as his thick cock grows an entire inch longer inside you. Literally.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
The water is barely half its original size now, splashing over the sides of the tub with each bruising ram he's punishing your eager cunt with, and you squeal, hips jerking helplessly around his waist as he fucks up into you without inhumane speed.
You dig nails into his shoulders, into his lilac hair, even take his pointy horns as reins, trying to ground yourself, but it's no use. His relentless thrusts have your arms falling to the humid water, head thrown back onto the hard edge of the tub, taking everything he's giving you.
"Oh fuckkkk, taking it like a champ, baby. Gonna take my cum like a good girl too, yeah?"
And he's at his wit's end now, chasing your slick-soaked body, head pressed into the curve of your neck, sniffing and nuzzling at your scent as his hips rut against yours in a frenzy.
Every stroke, every grind flattens you more into the curve of the tub, cold porcelain digging into your back. There's an impossibly tight tension in his balls. He's so close, so close.
"Mhmmm, gonna take all of it! Want your cum, Raf'!"
Fuck.
Thats all it takes for him to spurt his entire saved load into you, his balls drawing up tight as he whines and whines loudly against your ear, each pulse thrusting thick, sticky cum into you.
And he catches the hungry glint in your eyes, watching as your greedy cunt milks him dry, watching your plumb lips puff into a pout, eyes wide and pleading like a needy little puppy.
"Nawww, dont'cha sulk like that, cutie," he chuckles, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple, his eyes raking over every slick curve of your messy body, already craving to burst another load into you again just from watching you drown in him,
"We've got alllll night."
Caleb ꩜ Haunted By Heat! ~2.0k
"Urghhhh..."
A frustrated groan rips out of you as your hand jerks uncontrollably on your naked body, sending your useless vibrator skidding across the sheets.
Something feels… off.
Usually, on nights like this, you can ease that insatiable ache rumbling inside of you with your loyal little companion, grinding and humming against your puffy folds until your body forgets everything else.
But tonight, nothing seems to work.
Every setting feels off, either too dull and soft, or too intense and sharp, and just when your body starts to get used to one setting and melts into it, your arm twitches away, like it refuses to let you feel any type of release tonight.
And it's bothering you. Extremely.
Your hips twitch despite yourself, rolling against the empty air, dragging your fingers over yourself, trying to recreate that specific touch that only seems to exist in your mind. Every weak flick only makes the fire inside you scream louder.
If only something— someone could help you.
You want to whimper in frustration, curling in on yourself as the ache blooms impossibly, stretching from your clit to your cervix, every pulse screaming for the tiniest bit of attention.
And it's all because of that damned dream you've been having for weeks on end, the same impossible creature wrapped in sin, bending you over, folding you into every filthy, obscene position imaginable, hands and teeth and tail leaving marks and trails of fire across your body.
He's haunting you.
Your bed is chaos with sheets tangled, pillows strewn, but it doesn't matter. Not right now, not when you're in a situation so helpless you feel like raging. If only, if only you could make that man from your dreams come to life for just this night.
Ahhh, you'd be forever grateful if luck would graze your miserable state and help you out just this once—
"Oh, my poor, poor pipsqueak."
The voice slithers through the air like smoke and your whole body snaps upright, heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes dart frantically around the room, looking for its source, until—
WHAM!
The mattress dips and something slams down. A massive, clawed hand erupts from the foot of your bed, and you watch in horror as it tears straight into the sheets, sharp nails hooking into the fabric, pulling until the matress shreds under the pressure.
There's no way.
The culprit rises, and the first thing you see are swirled horns before a tall, monstrous figure crawls out from the dark shadows, followed by large wings, every inch of him rising slow, paining almost, as if he crawled out of the depths of hell.
Heh, how ironic.
You know exactly who he is.
Has he been under your bed this whole time? Watching? Waiting? And, if he really was, you can't help but question if your dreams really were dreams.
Wide-eyed, you scramble back on your bed, knees dragging through your damp sheets, but he's already on the bed, looming over you with his huge body, smiling down at you with an odd softness.
"Sooo needy, and there's no one to help poor you. Or is there now?"
His brown hair's in messy locs, soft enough to want to run your fingers through, boyish cut framing his angelic features. But it's his eyes that steal your focus, lilac ring in his eyes almost swallowed entirely by his blown wide pupils, already devouring you with their hunger.
Then your gaze slides lower.
God. Yes.
His cock is already out, ridiculously fat and heavy in his hand, glistening with pre. It twitches in his hand, veins pulsing with every heartbeat, but it's not just veins.
The length is ribbed, knotted, and sculpted in an inhuman way, like some monstrous dildo made to wreck you. Each ridge, bump, and coil makes your clit jump with joy, already eager to feel those rough ribs scratch your walls raw.
Shamelessly, he drags his pre down every obscene ridge, coating it in thick, sticky trails, his hand stroking, teasing himself right in front of you. The veins pulse under his touch, the fat, unreal crown glistening and drooling.
It's him. It's really him.
Your lips part, a strangled moan spilling out before you can stop it, body betraying you with your drooling pussy pooling slickly between your thighs, hips jerking forward on their own accord, heart hammering so loudly it echoes in your ears.
Every inch of him looks so wrongly perfect, formed in a way no human cock could ever be.
"Ya' remember me, pips'?"
"Mhmm."
Of course you do. What a stupid question.
And sure, any sane human would be running, screaming, clawing at the walls, but not you. Your gaze is locked, stuck on his hand pumping that monstrous cock slowly, watching it twitch and throb in time with him and god— those fucking ribbed patterns.
You're cockdrunk already, and he's not even inside yet.
"Good. So you know what's about to come, hmm?"
Shaking your head no, you look up at him with those wide, desperate eyes, and he only chuckles, hands already locked on the back of your thighs. In one quick yank, he hauls you onto his lap, caging you against him with a possessiveness that makes your pulse stutter and skyrocket.
"I think you do, baby," he drawls, lips brushing yours as he steals a quick, teasing kiss before his tongue pushes past to lick over your lips. You moan right into his mouth the second his saliva hits your tastebuds, your thighs suddenly twitch like you've been drugged.
What the fuck is going on with you?
Well, if only you'd know.
"I don't! I really don't!" you whimper, rutting helplessly on his lap, "S-show me—show me, please, need—need something!"
You need him to fuck you. Right now.
But his voice stays soft, taunting, ignoring your pitiful pleas as his hungry gaze drinks in every roll of your hips against his fat cock.
You can feel the ridges, the bumps, the inhuman thickness dragging over your sobbing pussy, pre smearing across your folds, making you even sloppier, even messier, and it doesn't fucking help your state one bit.
"Mmmh," he hums lazily, cock twitching as it catches on your hot clit, "Already doing all the work for me," grip tightening on your hips, his claws tease your skin, "What a good girl."
Voice dipping lower with mockery, but almost affectionate, "You didn't think those were just dreams, did you?," His gaze is awstruck, watching the mess of his pre smeared all over your folds before snapping up to catch the way your face twists in delirious need.
"C'monnn, pips'. We had soooo much fun that one time. And I've been waiting under your bed every single night since then. Been sooo lonely, waiting for you to notice me, call me. And today—"
Right then, he cuts himself of, lifting your jolting self just enough so his heavy cock sliding along your soaked slit until he's nudging right at your clenching hole, swollen head pushing in, "—today my sweet little pips' finally did."
And he doesn't wait for an answer, because he knows you won't be able to give him one. Not when his cock finally splits you open, sliding into your pussy inch by inch until he's buried fully, the fat, upward curve of him spearing straight against your g-spot, making your walls strangle him tight.
Back bowing into his chest, your mouth's dropping open in a choked moan, eyes rolling back as his jagged girth scrapes roughly against your gooey walls.
"O-oh! Yes! Yesyesyes— js' like that, Caleb!" you babble, voice breaking once he gets to gripping your ass, spreading your cheeks wide to jig you up and down while suddenly something sharp and scrapy teases the rim of your puckering asshole. Just what the—
Oh fuck. He's got a tail. It's his tail teasing you there, flicking over your twitching hole while he rams you like you're nothing but a ragdoll. The pointed tip prods inside just barely and you clench up hard, the reaction ripping a raw whine out of his throat as he bucks up into you faster.
You're jolting up, down, up, down, your clit rubbed raw mercilessly against his pelvic ridge, every bounce making your whole body shake.
"Even remembering my name," he snarls, half laughing, half losing his mind in your snug cunt, "Gooooood."
And you don't even know how you know it, but you're screaming it now, over and over again, blubbering it out between hiccupping moans and drooling as your pussy clamps down tight.
Your orgasm crashes over you, so brutal it's damn near blinding, your walls choking around his hefty cock while his tail coils tight around your waist, locking you flush on every inch of him.
You squirt on his length in messy spurts, slick splattering over his thighs, your clit sparking from the ruthless grind of his pelvis as you sob into the crook of his neck, drool slipping from your lips and onto his sweat-slick skin.
His claws gouge deeper into your ass, sharp enough to burn, pinning you down while his hips jackhammer up into you with loud smack smack smacks of his balls up against your ass.
He fucks you straight through your orgasm, every brutal slam to the hilt scraping those jagged ridges and fat veins through your soaked, trembling walls, your body wracking with pleasure too sharp to bear, arms twitching uncontrollably before shooting up, clutching onto his horns like they're the only thing keeping you sane.
You cling desperately yet careful, trying to desperatly ride your high out harder, only for it to twist into something filthier and hungier with each second that passes.
"Hold onto them," he snarls, horns grinding into your temple, voice staining with the last bit of restraint in him, "C'mon, pipsqueak, no need ta' be shy with me. Grip 'em."
You obey without thinking, hands clutching tighter around his daggered horns, and their pulsing faintly under your palms. Then he slams into you with a wicked crash, hard enough your whole body jolts up and down like jelly, hiccupping through your moans as you cling to his horns for dear life.
"Yer' sooo fuckin' perfect, baby," he spurts out all pussydrunk, his lips dragging down your throat to your collarbone, nipping and sucking at your skin there, biting hard enough to leave dents before soothing the sting with a wet tongue.
Right after his eager mouth crashes onto yours, ravenously lapping your leaking drool, suckling at your bottom lip, he can feel your second orgasm aproaching while his hips keep driving up, cock battering your sweet spot until your cries melt into his mouth.
"I'll take my sweet time with you, pretty," he growls into your mouth between kisses more to himself as a reminder not to cum into you just now. His claws flex on your hips, dragging you down harder until your throat's raw from all the screaming, "Finally, allll mine now."
"Mhmm!— hieeek!— All yours, all yours!"
Nodding, nodding, nodding, your hands grip tight around his horns, yanking him down with desperate force until his tongue drags slow over your painfully stiff nipple, humming in a purr, the vibration shooting straight to your core as he suckles at the bud, fangs scraping just enough to make your shriek.
"Pips' gone so dumb on me already, huh? Cute," The demon murmurs around the swell of your breast, his eyes glimmering up at you, drinking in every pornographic grimace that twists across your face.
Your hands tremble, slipping from his horns as his pace grows dowright evil, cockhead grinding deep until he nudges your womb, ridges scraping your raw walls, your thighs quivering and locking around his waist.
His wings flutter, then fold in tight, wrapping around you like a prison. You squeal, sobbing into his chestnut hair, clinging to him because your body doesn't know what else to do but submit.
"Cay-Caleb! Gonna— ouhhhh! Cuh—"
"Cum again? Yeahh, you better do just that all night, baby." he growls against your chest, lips sliding up to your throat, "Because if you don't," he nips at your skin, harder this time, then grazing his fangs over your skin,
"I'll bite."
Zayne ꩜ Fevered Nights! ~2.2k
When you step out of the steamy bathroom, your towel's slung lazily under your armpits, hair dripping onto the floor as you pad straight into your bedroom. You have no other choice but to.
Because this is getting ridiciolous now. Unbearable.
Maybe it's the remnants of water sliding over your skin, maybe it's that sudden wave of icy cold blowing through your bedroom even though no windows are open, but clearly, something's going on with your body.
It started with those sudden, impossiblly lewd daydreams about a man. Maybe you saw him on the streets somewhere or your mind crafted him, you don't know. But ever since you woke up today in the morning, the same name rings in your head.
Zayne.
Zaynezaynezaynezayne— It's driving you absolutely mad.
Even just now in the shower, visions clouded your mind of this mysterious Zayne guy your mind is choosing to torture you with tonight, tempting you to do something about it.
So you decided to do just that.
The towel slips from your fingers, falling to the floor with a dull thud, and you sink onto the edge of your bed, fingers drifting down your still damp skin.
"This show's for you, Zayne."
You spit the name with venom, a mocking scoff slipping past your teeth. You feel like some pubescent and it's all thanks to some impossible man your own mind conjured up.
Great.
It's just take the edge off, you tell yourself, just to quiet that pulse of your needy cunt before you actually lose your mind—
"Couldn't you wait for me, darling?"
Holy shit.
"Who—"
From the shadows, he appears like he'd been waiting there the whole time, his horns curling sharp from the mess of his dark hair, wings spreading in a slow stretch that makes your heart lodge in your throat.
His tail flicks once, twice, almost like it's... excited. And his emerald eyes are burning in the dim light of the night, pin you in place on the edge of the bed as he steps dangerously closer with that wicked grin curves across his mouth.
"Don't play dumb, pretty girl. You know exactly who I am."
There's no way. It's him, it's—
"Z-zayne."
He just chuckles, every step ringing closer until you see his sculptured, beefy body right infront of you, and you don't dare to look down, because you can already tell there's something dangerously massive from the cold breeze rushing up, leaving goosebumps on your body in it's wake, "Mm. That's right."
Your legs fall open instantly, instinctively, his honey-coated voice like a command straight to your quivering pussy. A cold, teasing gust of air snakes between your thighs, kissing your already leaking pussy until your hips jerk.
You must be dreaming. There's no way. No way on earth—
"So?"
His voice slides over your skin like silk, mockingly sweet, "Is that show of yours over already?"
Fucking hell.
"I-it, it was just—"
"Show meee, darling," dragging the word out, his clawed finger brushes your cheek, and you flinch at the icy shock of his touch. His lips twitch in amusement, "I want to see what you got in store for me," grin widening, his fangs gleem in the dim light, "Don't leave me hanging now."
Your bottom lip stings as you gnaw at it, but you obey regardless. Trembling fingers slide clumsily down your own body until they find your clit. You circle it once, twice, thighs twitching with the tiniest sound escaping your throat.
Just that little touch already eases the unbearable heat inside you, as your gaze oggles over the monstrous perfection his body is. Your gaze rakes hungrily over him, over every big, beefy muscle. His body is perfection, all broad chest and hulking arms, those ethereal wings shifting behind him.
And then you risk dragging your eyes up, forcing yourself to meet his. The second his emerald glare locks onto yours, your fingers speed up, desperatly circling your clit harder, sharp gasp ripping from your throat, back slightly arching towards him when a hot gush of slick escapes your clenching hole, spilling messily down your thighs.
"That won't do."
"H-huh?"
Leaning down closer, he's tilting your chin up, his other icy hand sliding down over your shoulder. You gasp when it brushes your stiff nipple, because fuck, his whole body is like literal ice, every touch cold and biting against your burning skin.
"I'll lend a hand."
You move to pull your hand away, embarrassed from his piercing gaze, but he doesn't let you. One massive hand wraps over yours, keeping it right against your eager cunt, pressing it down harder. Together he forces your touch into tight circles over your swollen clit, then drags your hand further, pushing down your slit until he forces two of your trembling fingers inside.
And then two of his own.
Two thick, icy digits slide in alongside yours, stretching you wider, making your sensitive pussy clamp down tight almost instantly. His face is so close you can feel his cool breath ghosting over your lips, his sharp horns tickling at your temple.
The moan you let out is downright pathetic, your eyes rolling back as his hand flexes, forcing your combined fingers even deeper, the frigid chill of him shocking your blazing walls, cooling the fire only to make it burn hotter.
"Better?"
Nodding frantically, your moan's cracking in your throat when he curls his icy fingers just right with yours, massaging your gushing spot inside with intense pressure.
"Good."
Tongue flicking out, he's wetting his lips, "Alright then—" His claws dig just barely into your thigh as his wings shift wide, evil smirk sharpening with his lush pupils glowing like twin emeralds as his cock twitches, icy and massive, brushing against your skin, —"let's get this little show of yours started."
Right after those words, his mouth crashes onto yours.
The kiss is poison and sugar, his tongue spearing into your mouth, swirling with yours, intoxicating saliva spilling thick and heavy between your lips. It's dizzying, and by the time he rips back you're gasping, choking on air, nipples perky and painfully straight, your pussy already gushing pathetically.
His spit is searing through your blood like an aphrodisiac, like it's drugging you— no, you know it's an aphrodisiac. Because your body isn't your own anymore.
"Zayne, I don't feel so well. It hurts."
Zayne chuckles against your quivering lips, sharp fangs grazing your swollen lower one, fingers now sliding out of your pussy, "Ahh. Don't worry, darling. I'll kiss it better."
You don't even notice when he pushes you back onto the mattress, body sprawled out, his icy weight crashing down over you, his cock so monstrous, fat tip twitching out pre, already nudging at your weeping folds. The shocking cold of it makes your entire body seize up, pussy clenching over his leaking slit before he's even inside.
How the hell can he be so cold?
Schliiiick!
The moment his cock forces your squeaking walls apart, your jaw falls slack.
Shivering violently, your nails claw at the sheets as that frozen girth splits you open. A sharp gasp tears from your throat, body trembling uncontrollably.
Zayne's teeth are bared, and without giving you time to think, he hauls you up on top of him, massive hands caging your body against his, his entire inches stuffing you full as you sliiiide down.
It's like being split open on a frozen icicle, fresh from the freezer, biting cold. The chill spreads through your hole, numbing and stinging, yet somehow soothing and soooo addictive. And when the freezing tip grinds against your cervix with ruthless pressure, your eyes roll back, a high-pitched whimper spilling from your lips.
"Ohhh, you're freezing cold," he drawls, fingers gliding over your skin, tracing every goosebump, "let's warm you up, yeah?"
Raaam!
His hips snap up with brutal force, fat cock spearing deeper into you, that frozen girth splitting your walls wide all over again. The stretch is unbearable, deliciously unbearable, every thrust sending shockwaves through your cunt as your body jerks.
He tilts you back like a doll, forcing you to ride the vicious curve of his cock the way he wants, his pace never flattering, each slam percise enough to wipe your brain clean, leaving only a dizzy haze of the freezing ecstasy he's granting you.
Then, his tail joins the game.
The slick, frostbitten thing coils around your hip with shocking strength, sharp tip digging deep into your flesh. One savage jolt, and you're bouncing on his cock, wiggling up and down up and down, your hard clit grinding against that faint, frosty trail of dark hair.
"O-oh!"
Your head tips back, strangled sob after sob tearing from your throat, body convulsing as you grip his shoulders firm, watching his wings flutter in awe.
"Oh indeed. Your pussy's all full, so cute."
The sound that rips from you isn't even human, a choked wail as your gaze drops down. Your belly bulges obscenely around him each time his tail yanks you down, reaching far into your guts.
Tears spill, icy against your heated cheeks, so cold they almost freeze onto your skin. His tongue's quick to flick out, catching them before they can fall further, licking the salt right from your face. Then scraping your skin with his sharp teeth, nipping harsh, almost sucking on your puffy cheek.
"Crying already, sweatheart?", he hums against your skin, tail jolting you down harder, forcing his cock impossibly deeper, "Maybe you need a little break—"
"No!"
A break? Is he trying to kill you?
"You're an eager one, aren't you? My needy little baby."
Yeah, that's exactly what you are. Nothing but putty in his hands, your body bouncing helplessly on that fat, cock of his. Your thighs quake violently, smacking in wet rhythm with his forceful tail against him, the slick squelch squelch squelching echoing like filth through the room.
"I'll make you want it even more. Just watch."
Splosh!
He spits a thick, messy glob straight into your mouth, and he can't help but let out a loud whine once you swallow it instantly without a thought. Because shame doesn't exist anymore.
It's pure sin, really.
"Such a nasty fucking girl. My sweet darling's gone dumb on me already, yes?"
"Mhmm! M' sooo nasty, but js' for you— only for you!"
You really are something.
Another fat glob drips down your chest, icy trail rolling over your burning skin, and he follows it with his tongue, smearing the cold slick across your nipples until you arch and shiver, broken little whimpers spilling from your lips. His fangs scrape before his mouth closes around a peak, sucking hard enough to make you thrash in his hold.
He swirls and sucks, teasing you until you're squirming in his grip, voice breaking into obscene whimpers. That's when you realize this evil creature is a liar. Because, there's no kissing it better, no soothing the ache, no easing the need clawing at your insides.
He's only making everything worse. So much worse.
Your hips buck desperately against his thrusts, chasing him, grinding into the cold stretch of his cock like a fiend, hands flying to his horns, forcing him to take more of your nipple into his mouth, to bite harder, to suck deeper.
And he's looooving it. You can feel it in the way his cock twitches inside you, in the deep, rumbling growl vibrating against your skin, and in the wicked curl of his lips around your breast.
He's obsessed.
You force your eyes down through the haze, through the tears streaking your face, and you gasp at the sight of his thick fingers.
Hearts. He's drawing fucking hearts on your clit.
"Z-Zayne—I wanna— wanna—"
"Cum? You already did, darling. Twice."
What?
Oh.
He pulls back just enough to look up at you, emerald eyes watching in awe as your hips twitch uncontrollably, like a jolt of electricity running straight through you, and your juices gush all over his stomach and thighs, the slick running down in thick, messy ribbons.
Your body locks violently, trembling and shaking so badly that anyone, including yourself can tell that this isn't your first time already losing it.
Zayne's driving you—
"Insane. Hnngggh!— you drive me insane, pretty."
Yeah. That.
Then he slams up into you hard enough to rattle the bedframe, claws digging into your back to hold you flush against him. His voice is frantic now, the words spilling from him with haste.
"G-gonna marry you," he growls, rutting into your soaked cunt, his cock swelling thick, and he doesn't even notice his thick cum shooting out of his clenched up balls, "Plug this sweet pussy up everyyyy night, make sure you take it."
The second his cum floods you, your body goes haywire, hormones surging so violently that your mind feels fried. You shove him down onto the bed, grinding your soaked pussy into him, hips smacking down hard against his, smack, smack, smacking, palms slapping down onto his beefy chest for leverage.
"Y-yes, please! Wanna be you're wife! You'll fuck me every night, yesss?"
Have you've driven this incubus mad?
"Of-fucking-course. G-gonna make you feel this good every night," his voice breaks, swollen head spurting another set of honeyed cum into you, "My wife will neverrr feel unsatisfied ever again."
Getting fucked by Sylus in nothing but the jewelry he dressed you in.
Your hand runs down the foggy mirror to reveal your fucked out expression—smeared makeup, lips parted while pitched cries escape you, and eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
You are decorated in nothing but Sylus's finest jewels. Sparkling rubies and diamonds adorn your collarbone and drip down your ears. Matching bracelets drape your wrists as you attempt to steady yourself against the bathroom's mirror while your precious wedding ring glitters on your clenched fists.
Sylus takes you hard and fast from behind, gripping your waist as he stretches out your wet little pussy with his cock. Your toes are just barely touching the floor as he lifts and uses your body like his own personal flesh light with ease.
"Ngh! S-Sylus!" You squeal as he presses a hand against your abdomen, feeling the shape of him inside you. Your toes curl as his tip hits the sweet spot against your gummy walls over and over. The jewelry on your body sings with every harsh thrust, blending with the sounds of your sweet moans.
"Close?" He purrs with a slight smirk. He's watching you in the mirror, noting the way your lower lip wobbles and your mascara begins to run down your cheeks.
"Yes! Please, 'm gonna come! I—ah!—'m so close," you cry. Your breasts are squeezed against the countertop. Pebbled and sensitive nipples are trapped against the cold while the rest of your body feels the inescapable heat between your thighs. It grows and grows each time his cock slips through your tight, hot walls. Arousal leaks down your thighs and onto the dark marble floors.
"Let go for me."
Your body trembles violently against the sink, pussy clenching around him, as you come undone. You lay weakly, only held up by his arms around your waist, and catch your breath.
Sylus slips out of you, still hard, but picks you up onto his hip like always. Your whimper, burying your face into his neck, as your sensitive core rubs against him.
"What about you?" You mumble into his neck.
He chuckles, striding over to the bathtub and sitting you down on the edge, "don't worry. We're not done yet."
You hum, eyes fluttering shut as your body sways. You feel his hands on your neck, tracing the curve of your necklaces before beginning to unclasp it.
Sylus removes each piece of jewelry off your body until there is only one left.
"My greatest treasure," he murmurs, taking your hand to trace the band around your finger. "My beautiful wife."
A/N — oh yeah it's all over the place... I couldn't help it after I saw his new card anywho horny time is over~ comments and reblogs always appreciated! thanks for reading! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️
w/c: 2K
a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!
You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you.
"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.
You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs.
You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body.
Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you.
He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking.
This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment.
“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs.
Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.
“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”
Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that.
“I don’t think-“
“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage.
As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it.
And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string.
You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it.
Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head.
He intertwines his fingers with yours.
“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”
“But-“
He presses his lips on the back of your hand.
“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”
You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you.
So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next.
It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder.
He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock.
“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown.
“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you.
“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg.
You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation.
You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?
“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey.
His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.
Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you.
Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus.
Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.
“Do you want me to go all the way in?”
Your toes curl.
“I can take it.”
So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.
Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good.
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
You hiccup softly. “So full.”
He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm.
“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin.
“Make you what?”
He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you.
Oh no.
Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red.
“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock.
He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily.
The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open.
It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet.
“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away.
“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”
That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough.
“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words.
“Now, can I make a mess in you?”
Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.
He’s just ready to ruin you.
His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper.
“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed.
Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole.
You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you.
Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway.
Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair.
He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip.
Just thinking about Soft!Sylus and how he expresses his love…
Hear me out…he’s at his most vulnerable after moments of intimacy. And I don’t mean just after sex, I mean any kind of intimacy.
Walk with me here:
…You’re laying on the couch and Sylus is on top of you, his full body weight resting on yours. One hand rests between his shoulder blades while the other cards through his hair.
He hums in contentment and says, “I’m safe in your arms. You’ll protect me, right kitten?”
…You’re nestled together in bed, the sun peeking through the slit in Sylus’s blackout curtains. You’d convinced him once again to ruin his sleep schedule for you, wanting to spend the night warm in his embrace.
His lips trace over your brow as he whispers, “Having you here makes the sunrise more bearable. I could get used to this.”
…Your heavy breaths mix as you both come down from your highs, Sylus still buried deep inside you.
You share a slow, passionate kiss.
Against your lips, he murmurs, “There’s nothing I enjoy more than worshipping every inch of you, my beloved.”
…It’s your honeymoon and you’re on the beach, finally having gotten a moment to yourselves after what felt like days of chaos. But not once did Sylus complain, no he took everything in stride as long as it meant being by your side.
And he says to you, the weight of his devotion clear in his red eyes, “I love what you love.”
~ again, this is only my second time doing an SMAU so I apologize if the boys are OOC at all! But this is the SMAU smut/crack idea I was talking about yesterday so hehe I hope it’s enjoyable!
you leave for a mission and they miss you. to make up for your absence, you left them some things that'll make them feel a little less lonely. requested by anon <3
- sylus -
Three more weeks.
Sylus checked the calendar for the nth time, counting down the days of when you will return from your long mission. He has plenty of patience. He'd lasted years and years waiting for you. A month and a half is nothing. He'll be fine.
That's what he tells himself everytime his body yearns for your presence. Anytime he does anything, he feels as if you should be there.
Just like right now.
In order to escape the empty feeling his own home is giving him, Sylus decided to go out for a motorcycle ride.
His eyes glazed over the helmet with cat ears, and his chest tightened just a little as his mind imagined you wearing them with that grin on your face.
Shaking his head, he picked up his own helmet and got on his motorcycle. Before he put it on, something inside it caught his eye: three red flowers attached to their stems, and a pink sticky note attached with them.
'Going for a ride? Be careful. Enjoy the fresh breeze and the pretty stars for me. 😸'
The doodle of a kitten made him chuckle, but the words written in familiar handwriting immediately made him feel warm all over. His fingers felt the soft petals of the flowers before bringing them up to his nose to smell them, and suddenly, he feels as if you're there, right next to him.
The emptiness in his chest vanished.
That night, Sylus cruised all throughout N109 Zone with his motorcycle, with three flowers attached to its front.
After a long night dealing with shady guys for Onychinus business, Sylus decided to relax his exhausted muscles with a bath.
His body acted on its own and his hands automatically collected the products you'd always use whenever you'd take a bath together: the same soap, salt, and oil, just so everything can be exactly the way you want it. It has to be the perfect temperature and texture, you always tell him.
This time, however, there was an extra item that's placed next to the bath soap: a scented candle, and a pink sticky note.
'Have a lovely bath, Sylus! I hope you're not overworking yourself and your poor, strong muscles! Use hot water so you can be more relaxed! But make sure not to use all the soap! We're gonna use a lot of it when I come back! I want it to be extra bubbly~ 😽 ps: this candle smells so delicious, pls use it. ily ily'
Just by reading the note, Sylus could hear your voice, exactly how you'd talk to him whenever he'd come home after a nasty fight with troublesome enemies. You'd drag him to the bathtub and dump a whole bunch of things to make it hot and bubbly, because it would make his body feel better.
Then, you'd come up next to him and massage his sore muscles before he eventually pulls you in the bathtub with him. After all, nothing makes his body feel better than by having you next to him.
This time, unfortunately, you're not there to give him a massage. For now, he decided to accept your gift and lit up the scented candle before going in the bathtub.
Right away, he detected the scent of pomegrante, mixed with a few other typical candle elements. It's one of the scents that he always finds comforting whenever he catches a whiff of it, and he hadn't realized that you'd picked up on that.
Sylus closed his eyes and leaned his back against the rim of the bathrub, letting his body relax to the peaceful atmosphere.
On one hand, he craved for your presence even more. He wished you were there with him, resting your head on his chest while the two of you talk about pointless, yet entertaining topics that could go on for hours.
He'd always watch you play with the foam of the soap, sometimes putting bubbles on his hair just to mess around and give him silly hairstyles.
On the other hand, even though nothing beats having you there with him, he's feeling much better than how he was hours ago.
You knew ahead of time that he'd eventually be needing hot bath and left him a candle along with a sweet little note. Just you thinking of him and taking care of him even while you're away... It's a simple gesture, but it means a lot to him.
And if he ends up getting too comfortable in that bath and falls asleep... it'll all be your fault. He'll remember to tell you about it later when he calls you.
Just a few more days left. So close, yet so far.
He could technically show up wherever you are and act like it's just a coincidence— and it wouldn't be the first time he'd done that, but he knows you're working in a security-tight environment with lots of hunters, so his presence might just make you more stressed out. That's the last thing he wants to do, so he'll just have to suck it up and wait for you to come back.
Today is a Saturday, and he'd usually be spending the night with you. This time, he's embraced by the coldness and silence of the house. Mephisto and the twins are out and about, so the house feels lonelier than usual.
What to do?
There are no urgent Onychinus business to do at the moment. All of his motorcycles are up to date, and none of his weapons need tinkering. He just finished boxing, so that's out of the question.
You aren't available for a videocall until about three hours, so what can he do to kill time while he waits?
"Hmm? What's this?"
He was just about to get himself a glass of wine when he found something placed next to his favorite bottle that's not been opened yet.
It's a CD inside a clear case that has a pink sticky note on its cover.
'Feeling bored? Lonely? Listen to this playlist I made just for you. You might still feel bored and lonely, but at least there'll be nice music playing in the background! 😽
(But jokes aside, I miss you. I'll be by your side soon. Pls don't drown in too much wine while I'm gone. You can drink more when I'm by your side to take care of you.)'
Sylus tried to be nonchalant as he made his way to the nearest room with a music player, which happens to be another lounging room where you like to relax and read books when he's asleep.
The very first song that played is a cheesy, happy, upbeat love song that he remembered you playfully singing to him not too long ago.
The sound of his laughter muffled the first several seconds of the song as Sylus couldn't hold back his amusement. His lips curled into a wide smile, shaking his head as he pictured you singing in front of him.
His heart ached and swelled at the same time, longing to see you so badly so he can hold you close to him.
For the rest of the night, your playlist and a glass of wine had kept Sylus company.
When Luke and Kieran came home, they found their boss sleeping on a sofa, with an empty, clear CD case carefully held against his chest, while a calming song plays in the background.
"Looks like the boss had a nice night."
- zayne -
An exhausted Dr. Zayne goes into his office after a long night of successful surgery. He sat down on his chair and loosened his tie so his body could breathe a little more, and the sweat on his skin would dry out faster.
Suddenly, he spotted a sticky note that wasn't done by him. It has jasmine flowers at the bottom of the familiar handwriting.
'Tired? Text your name to this number. A special drink will be sent to you immediately! It's on me! 😉'
Out of curiosity, Zayne followed your instructions and sure enough, a delivery guy dropped off an iced-vanilla latte, exactly the way he likes it, just fifteen minutes later.
It's from that 24-hour coffee shop near your work. Zayne loves going there, not just because he enjoys their coffee, but also because it gives him an excuse to see you 'coincidentally'.
He hasn't been going there lately because he'd been busy, and because you're not around to motivate him to make the extra stop. You've been out of Linkon for two weeks now due to a serious mission that should take at least another month and a half.
He's already been feeling lonely without you, so he's been working more to keep himself out of the house. As long as he's there, he notices your absence even more.
No one to hold at night while talking about the most random things.
No one coercing him into trying the silliest yet fun activities.
No one to share his desserts with.
But despite you being away, you're still somehow bringing him joy.
Just a week ago, he started finding candies in the pockets of his coats and jackets. He knows it's from you because you especially love that brand. You picked up that habit from him, as he, too, would randomly leave candies in the pockets of your clothes.
And two weeks later, there was more surprises that came for him.
This time, it was a box of macarons of various flavors, delivered right at his home during his day off.
'Try not to eat these all at once. By the time you empty this box, I should be back by your side to give you some more <3'
And that wasn't the end of it.
You also left colorful heart-shaped candies (contained in a plastic bag) all over his lunch bag and house, though mostly in his home office.
The hearts contained the following texts engraved on them:
ily
go to sleep
xoxo
go to sleep
ily
go to sleep
go to sleep
ily
Everytime he pulled an all-nighter, he'd eat those candies with a smile on his face.
Zayne didn't notice it sooner, but now, he can't stop smiling everytime he has to do paperwork in his office at the hospital.
Before coming to the hospital, he was feeling a little down. He hasn't gotten the chance to talk to you for the past two days because of your busy schedule. To top that off, his own work had been giving him headaches.
Then, his eyes caught something as he entered his office.
There were new pens on his container on his desk. A sticky note had gotten wrinkled and buried at the bottom of it, but he'd found it just this morning along with the new additions of pens.
Three blue pens with cute pictures of seals on then.
'Gotta make sure you have the best tools at work !!!! Stay focused, Dr. Zayne ~ you got this! With these little guys, you will be the coolest, best doctor ever! If anyone disagrees or laughs at you, tell them I will be speaking with them once I get back. Have a wonderful day! Love you!'
It wasn't much, but seeing your note almost made him hear your voice and feel your presence, and it was enough to calm him down and take a deep breath.
At that moment, he felt that everything was okay. And so, his day instantly got better.
Not only did his young patients love the pens, even his colleagues can't help but admire them. Yvonne complimented his new pen yesterday, and right now, Greyson is using one to write on a file that he will he giving to Zayne soon.
"Here you go, all done, Dr. Zayne!"
"Thanks."
Greyson handed Zayne the document, then he gave him a wave of goodbye before heading out the door to leave the office.
"Ahem."
Greyson paused, noticing Zayne's fake cough.
"Huh? Did you need something, Dr. Za—"
"I'd like my pen back, please."
Greyson looks at his hand to realize that he's still holding the seal pen. "Oh! Sorry about that, haha! It was so comfortable to use, I didn't realize I was still holding onto it!"
At least one pen was in his pocket for the rest of the day.
To him, it felt like a good luck charm.
Zayne frowns at the cold, empty side of the bed.
Still no calls or text messages from you either.
You did tell him that there's a high possibility of you losing all sorts of communication within the next few days, as you will be entering a zone that does not receive radio signals, so he expected the lack of updated.
Still, he can't stop himself from feeling lonely.
You've gone on far, long-lasting missions before, so this isn't the first nor the last time, but it never really gets easier. Whether if it's you or him leaving Linkon for work, the distance is always uncomfortable.
Today is his day off. He'd woken up early as usual, though he doesn't really have any plans in particular, so he decided that he'll take the long route during his morning run.
And by the long route, he means the one that would pass your apartment building.
He knows you're not there, so there's no reason why he needs to come there... but still.... he just wants to pass by.
It's been a while since he did a run around there anyways.
And so, Zayne got out of bed, did his morning routine, and put on his running outfit.
While doing so, he found a light blue towel folded along with his compression shirt.
Not just a random towel, but one with a penguin sewn on it.
As he unfolded the soft cloth, a white sticky note with jasmine decorations fell out from it.
'Next time you go running, I'll be there to wipe all the sweat off you. For now, your old friend, Mr. Penguin, will have to do my job. Mr. Penguin, pls take care of my Zaynie for me while I'm away.'
Zayne laughs at the penguin on the bottom right corner of the towel. He could tell that you've personally sewn it, as the stitches reminds him of the other accessories that you'd personally made for him
His thumb traced over the designs and warmth spreads across his chest before embracing the soft item, as if it's you that he's holding.
He'll take good care of this towel.
In fact, he almost feels that it'd be a waste to use it. However, you do want him to use it specifically for running, so that's what he'll do.
That's why, during the entire time he ran, Zayne held the towel with gentle care, as if it's your hand that he's holding.
- caleb -
His house at Skyhaven is always dead silent and cold whenever you're not there. Sure, it has gotten much more lively after you started putting your own belongings and personal touches all over the place, such as your growing collection of plushies, but nothing compares when you're around.
While you're away for a mission that'll last for at least three months, Caleb spends his free days at his home, lonely and bored.
Yes, he thought about showing up to wherever you are and just say that the Fleet just happened to have business in there as well. He thought about doing that on a daily basis, actually.
However, you gave him an earful lecture for the last time he did that, so this time, he really has no choice but to just simply wait for your return.
Most of his time is spent looking out the windows, as if you'd just magically appear in the middle of the clouds just to see him.
What to do, what to do.
Caleb digs around a shelf by the living room to search for any unfinished models he'd forgotten about, and suddenly his eyes catch something next to his new Star Wars figure that somehow have gotten disassembled.
It's three CDs inside a clear case with a sticky note attached to it: a green sticky note with a green apple at the bottom.
'I have a mission for you, Colonel. You have to watch this series and tell me which characters you think we are. Think carefully because we're gonna have a long discussion about it when I come back. There ARE wrong answers. Yes, there are three movies and yes, they are three hours long, each. Have fun! Don't you dare fall asleep or else I won't give you any souvenirs from my trip. <3'
As if the choice of sticky note wasn't obvious, the handwriting gave away who decided to give him such an interesting homework.
Caleb chuckles as he examines the mysterious CDs that doesn't have a single image that'll hint what movie, nor genre, he will be watching.
Well, he's up to the task. Once you come back, he'll be ready to pull out his notes full of character analysis, so you better be prepared.
As he started the first movie, Caleb's mind instantly went to you. He wished you were cuddling with him as you watch the movie together. You'd instantly start rambling about the characters, sharing your first impressions about them, while muching on the popcorn that he made.
Was your goal to distract him from feeling lonely or to make him miss you more?
Gideon watches with amusement as Caleb fixes the scarf around his neck and sniffs it for about the seventh time within the thirty minutes they'd been out together.
It's a coral, cotton scarf that Gideon could've sworn he'd seen before. But more importantly, Caleb seems to be quite happy with it. Too happy, in fact.
But that's better than how he was a few hours ago, when Gideon videocalled him to talk about where they will be having their monthly dinner tonight.
When Caleb answered the videocall, Gideon almost thought he was sick and was unable to go out. His tone didn't have its usual playfulness, and his eyes lacked some light.
Gideon joked about you being mad at him, and Caleb didn't even laugh. For a moment, he thought that was actually the case, but now he's wondering if he'd imagined the whole thing.
Caleb looks like an excited puppy now.
"Good find, Gideon. I'm definitely coming back to this restaurant."
With you, of course. Caleb didn't need to say it. Gideon already knows he had you in mind.
"Maybe she'll like this one." Caleb checks the menu. "This one too. Definitely not this one— she'll for sure make me finish it after taking three bites. Oh, and this one's pretty sweet so she'll love them."
Caleb rambling about you is nothing new. It's always been that way since their university days. Caleb not rambling about you would be when anyone should worry.
"I'm gonna go buy something from the vending machine real quick! There's something I want to give to her when I pick her up in two weeks."
"Sure, go ahead."
Once Caleb stood up and walked away, Gideon learned just what put him in such a good mood. A sticky note had fallen out from Caleb's pocket, now resting on his chair.
'Caleb, don't forget to wear a scarf when it's cold outside. I know you can be a dummy sometimes by forgetting your scarves at my apartment. This time, I'm leaving my scarf to you so you have something to wear. You better not catch a cold and get sick! If you get sick, I'll make you eat a lot of cilantro. Don't test me!
Also. By the time you read this, I'll most likely be on my mission so I can safely confess something: I ate the cookies you baked this morning sorry sorry I love them I love you bye don't get sick.'
Gideon laughs and shakes his head.
Silly you, worrying about him getting sick, when you're the one who got Caleb out of whatever sickness he was in just hours ago.
Caleb lets out a soundless sigh, leaning back on his chair while he tries his best to look interested in the meeting that he's currently forced to attend.
He's surrounded by a handful of men from the Fleet, all discussing their upcoming activities, which didn't necessarily require the Colonel's presence. He's just there to approve of all the arrangements.
He'd much rather be in his own office. What if you call him at this moment? He'd been waiting for a single call or text message since two days ago. You said you'd contact him at some point today, as soon as you're able to. He wouldn't want to miss your calls.
He desperarently needed to hear your voice and find out how you've been doing. He wants to listen to you rant about all the things that happened on your mission, and what interesting things you ran into.
The fifth sigh he lets out caused Liam next to him to glance, though the man says nothing like always.
It wouldn't hurt to just take one second to look at his phone, right?
And so, Caleb reached down to the left pocket of his uniform jacket to take a peek at the screen of his phone.
His eyes then widen as he realizes that the item he's looking for isn't there at all. Instead, two things had taken its place: a paper, and something tiny, solid, and sharp.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Caleb made sure his hand remains hidden under the table as he pulled out whatever is in his pocket.
The first item is.... a small heart, made out of red legos. It's small enough to be fully hidden with his fist.
He tilted his head as he looked at it carefully. His heart is already racing as his mind pictured the gift's sender.
To confirm his assumptions, Caleb fishes out the paper in his pocket and learns that it's an origami. A red, heart-shaped paper with handwritten words written all over them.
Caleb feels his face heating up as he unfolded the heart-shaped paper.
'Caleb, did you like my surprise present? I worked extremely hard putting together those six blocks of legos, just for you.
I wonder when you'll find these. Maybe when you're half asleep while getting dressed for work? Maybe while you're doing some paperwork? Or maybe when you're in the middle of using The Force and torturing someone for information? Either way, I hope you like it.
This heart is tiny, but it's strong despite it being designed to break easily, just like my own heart, which is yours, as it always have been. Please take care of it and don't let anyone take it. You're the only one I trust with it. You're the only one that can keep it safe. You're the only one it can ever belong to. You're my safe place. For as long as you have this heart, I'll always be by your side.'
With a shaky hand, Caleb quickly shoves the lego heart and the love letter back in his pocket.
He shouldn't have read that during this meeting. Because now, he feels like tearing up. His heart is racing like crazy, and his entire body feels hot. His eyes feel heavy, but his shoulders feel light, his stomach is fluttering, and his chest is swelling.
"Colonel, are you feeling alright?" One Fleet member asked, seeing him cover half of his face with a gloved hand.
Caleb was quick to put back his cold mask and straighten up. "I'm fine. Carry on with the discussion."
No one questioned it, but it didn't fully go unnoticed. Liam had seen the whole thing, as he was sitting right next to him.
Again, he stays stilent. However, Liam had a strong feeling who was responsible for making the Colonel act so flustered in the middle of a meeting.
- rafayel -
Rafayel drops down on your couch after watering your plants. Your apartment is warm but lonely, so it doesn't feel as welcoming as it usually does. Still, being surrounded by your things brings him comfort.
As he lies down on your couch, Rafayel closes his eyes and imagines you next to him. You'd be resting your head on his chest while his arm is around you, holding you close to him, while the two of you talk about the most random topics.
No wait, that doesn't make him feel good. Because now, he feels even lonelier.
It's only been two weeks since you left for your mission and he feels as if you've abandoned him. He should be used to it by now. You occasionally going away for some time, and him leaving Linkon for his job purposes— you two actually have lots of times when you have to be apart.
But it never gets easier.
"Ugh.... Wait, what's that?"
Rafayel opens one eye and finds something next to the flower vase on your center table across the couch.
He sits up and finds a little pink bag full of coins. No, not coins, tokens. For the Claw Machine. Inside the bag is a pink, rolled up sticky note with jellyfishes on the background.
'Rafayel, if you find this, I'll assume you've dramatically fallen on my couch, and you may or may not want to get up because you're feeling tired or bored. If you're tired, pls go take a nap. If you're bored..... will you do me a favor of finding me a new bestie that I can have when I come back? I'll trust this important job to you, the claw machine expert.'
Rafayel immediately left your apartment building and drove his fancy car right to the arcade, heading straight to his favorite claw machine.
"It'll be so embarrassing if I don't take home at least one. Please work with me here, plushies. I might get dumped if I fail. This is a life and death situation, so please..."
Rafayel made sure to concentrate on the plushies that he knows you've been wanting to get. He can already imagine how excited you'll be when he shows you what he's won.
"So close.... I'll get this one this time for sure!"
He was in there for quite some time. He'd received stares from other adults, but Rafayel doesn't have the time and energy to care: he has an important mission.
At the end, he got exactly one plushie. He's proud of his accomplishment and he can't wait to show it to you.
Rafayel stares at the empty canvas in front of him, twirling his paintbrush that has yet to do a single stroke. Nothing is coming to his mind. His body doesn't seem to want to move either.
All he wants to do is lie down in his bathtub and talk to you for hours.
Unfortunately, you won't be available to call for at least three days, as you will be going somewhere that can't receive communications. For now, all he can do is wait for you.
Rafayel knows you're more than capable as a hunter and your team are full of highly skilled people too, so he has no doubts about you returning safely.
Still, his mind would sometimes bring up a touchy subject. He sometimes wonders, what if, one day, you might not come back from a mission and he might never see you again. What will he do then?
Rafayel shakes his head, forcing himself to stop thinking such terrifying thoughts. He has work to do. Thomas will be coming today to check on him, so he has to do something. Anything.
"Wha—pffftt!"
As Rafayel was rummaging through his toolbox, he found an opened journal, displaying one of the funniest, silliest drawing of stick figure he'd ever seen.
"What is this?"
He picks up the journal and saw that the doodle is just a coverup. The rest of its contents had caused him to hold his breath.
Random pictures of you and him, with your own personal comments on the sides, plus some more doodles that aren't as silly and horrible as the first one, and random things such as lists of date ideas, movies and shows to watch, places to visit together, food to try, and a whole lot of to-do things.
The journal is more like a scrapbook and bucket list.
On one of the pages, there are only a few words written.
'We need to add more stuff! Professor Rafayel, will you help me make this prettier? When I come back, we need to do all the things listed here! Put whatever you want, and we'll do it ASAP! Oh, and don't forget to put pictures of our plushies! They are part of our family! 😘'
And so, that is how Thomas came to find Rafayel working extremely hard.
He caught him working on the floor, humming a song while cutting paper scraps and drawing pictures with amazing details that should belong in an artbook.
Because he looks so happy, just this once, Thomas will allow Rafayel to skip work.
On his bed, Rafayel is curled up in his blanket and staring at his phone on his nightstand.
It's three in the morning. He'd just talked to you an hour ago, and now, he can't sleep.
Hearing your voice did put him at ease, but it also made him miss you even more. He wishes he could call you again and talk to you some more, despite the last phone call being almost three hours long. You have to sleep now, so he'll have to resist contacting you again until the next day.
That's why he's glaring at his phone as if it's his number one enemy.
He can't touch it, no matter what. Otherwise, his fingers will act on their own and call you by muscle memory.
He has to sleep.
But he can't.
The bed is uncomfortably cold and it feels bigger than usual. The empty space next to him feels like it's mocking him.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Rafayel gasps and falls out of his bed to get his ringing phone. "Hello, cutie! Did you—"
"Hello. This is the ZZ-Company calling to let you know that you have an unpaid toll—"
Rafayel almost pops a vein as he ends the call and shoves his phone in the drawer of his nightstand out of frustration.
"Stupid scammers got nothing better to do at three in the morning. Hmph!"
As he dropped his phone in the drawer, it bumps into something hard and a high-pitched sound made him pause.
"What is this?"
A small, lilac box with a sticky note.
'You're always the one singing me a lullaby to sleep and making sure I end the day in the most peaceful way. Your voice is always the last thing I hear at night and the first thing I hear in the morning, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
For the days that I'm away, you can take a break. Instead, our old friend will be the one to sing you to sleep. I hope he keeps you company and makes your nights feel just as wonderful as you do with mine.
I have your lullabies engraved in my heart. I will be dreaming of you tonight, so if you don't mind.... will you meet me in my dreams, Rafayel?'
He opens the box and Rafayel meets a spinning whale in the middle of a disk that's disguised as the pink sea.
It's a music box that plays a very special melody that only you and him know about.
Rafayel places it down on his nightstand and sets a timer so it could play for at least two hours. He returned to his bed and wrapped himself in his blanket, then he faced the music box and watched the whale spin slowly.
At last, his body relaxes and he grants your wish of meeting you in his dreams.
- xavier -
Xavier came to work with dark clouds over his head, and his colleagues knew not to bother him too much.
He was supposed to come with you on the faraway mission that'll take at least two months to wrap up. However, a new hunter ended up taking his spot because Xavier's expertise is needed for a local mission. He has to stay in Linkon.
Now, he sits behind his table with a little pout on his face and you're not around to get rid of it.
Sighing, he rested his head down on his desk to prepare for a nap.
But before closing his eyes, his gaze landed on his pen stand and saw something next to it: a box of Pocky and a white sticky note with stars on it.
'Did you know that everytime you eat a Pocky, a star is born? If you eat all of these, there will be enough stars to make your nights a little less lonelier. I will be eating some too so I can have some stars to keep me company while my guiding, shining, favorite star is a million lightyears away 💕'
The dark clouds over his head vanished instantly as soon as he opened the box of Pocky.
Xavier pulled one out and smiles as he stared at it, recalling the words you've written on the note. He then took a bite and felt the tightness in his chest going away.
Only then did his colleagues became brave enough to approach him.
Xavier entered your apartment to check on your plants and pick up the package that he accidentally got delivered to your unit, but he ended up staying for roughly three hours.
The first half an hour was spent watering and trimming your plants just as planned, and the following two hours was spent sleeping on your bed.
Xavier couldn't resist sinking down on your soft mattress, just for five minutes, he hold himself. And then, he knocked out.
Something about your bed made it hard for him to get up. Maybe it was your scent lingering on your pillows and bedsheets.
Maybe it's the memories of some of the activities you two had on that bed that stripped away his sense of reality.
Or maybe it's just his exhaustion he felt after working for hours with no one to refuel him. Whatever it was, Xavier was trapped on your bed for quite some time.
And for the last thirty minutes, he did some cleaning up so that you don't come back to dusty windows and furnitute.
That was when he came across something that you left for him.
Hanged on a key hook next to the the spare key of his apartment is a red bracelet with yellow beads and a white star.
There was also a rolled up sticky note attached to it.
'I made this bracelet for you and I meant to give it to you sooner but I didn't finish until the night before I left. I'll just leave it here and hope that you find it eventually.
It's not much, but this is a little charm that takes away loneliness! Everytime you wear it, I will be by your side to look after you and make sure you're smiling and eating and sleeping well! If you fail, then you will be cursed and an evil witch will show up at your door to feed you the grossest, healthiest food she can find at the market. Okay bye love you please don't burn down our apartment building turn off your oven right now !! 💕'
Xavier laughs and holds the bracelet against his heart to appreciate the gift.
One minute later, he teleports to his apartment because he did in fact, left the oven on.
Xavier has decided to hold a grudge against you for leaving him alone during such a cold time of the year. He has no one to cuddle with and keep him warm. He only has Bunbun and his siblings, but the plushies aren't enough to keep him from feeling lonely.
He's in his living room and reading a book, though his eyes have been scanning the same two lines for the past five minutes, as his mind is elsewhere.
You should be next to him, on his lap, listening to him as he reads the words from the book outloud, until the two of you start to feel sleepy. Then, you two will go to the bedroom and.... not sleep.
But instead, he's here all alone in the cold, and you're with four other hunters. He wondered if you're cold too. What if someone asks to cuddle with you? What if...
Xavier shakes his head to push out such irrational thoughts and set the book on the table in front of him. Clearly, he won't get any reading done tonight.
He has no choice but to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place: laundry.
He gathered all his dirty clothes in his room and threw them in his laundry basket, until he picked up something that got buried with his other clothes worm recently.
"Huh?"
It's a hoodie that he hasn't seen before.
It's pastel-colored, yellow and pink, soft, slightly oversized, it has pockets that'll keep his hands warm, and most importantly, it smells just like you.
He reached a hand inside the pocket and raised his brows as he found a sticky note.
'I'm sorry I'm not there to give you hugs, but hopefully this will provide all the warmth and comfort you need. Just don't get used to it though! That's still my job! 💕'
The very first thing he did was embrace the hoodie as if it was you. He held it in his arms and closed his eyes, then he lets out a content sigh as his nose detected the familiar perfume.
He held the hoodie tighter, only to feel nothing but air, and that's when Xavier had to open his eyes and remember that there's still no you to hold.
For now, this'll do.
He put on the hoodie, replacing the white one he was already wearing. Despite the similar texture and materials, the one you'd given him feels a lot warmer and more comfortable.
Maybe it's just in his head, but it doesn't matter. He's warm now.
"So soft... just like you..."
Xavier took a moment to lie down on his bed and close his eyes to appreciate the comfort that the hoodie provided him.
He ended up sleeping for the rest of the night, and all chores have been forgotten.
your pussy was already raw and throbbing, swollen from how hard he’d been pounding you, his cum still dripping out from the last round. you thought he’d slow down, but sylus just groaned, pulled out, and hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the bed like you weighed nothing.
“hold on to me, sweetie,” he muttered, voice low and rough, sweat sticking strands of hair against his forehead. his cock pushed back into you in one brutal thrust, bottoming out so deep your scream tore through the room.
“ahhh... ahhh... fuck, sylus! s-so deep...! hhnnngghhh...! y-you’re splitting me open!” you sobbed against his shoulder, clinging to him desperately while his cock pounded into your cervix.
he grunted with each thrust, eyes dark, jaw tight. “and you fucking love every second of it, don't you, kitten? getting fucked like this—you say that and you’re still squeezing me like this cock’s the only thing you need.” his hips snapped up hard, making you jolt.
“c-can’t—ahhh—too much—ahhh—fuck, it’s so big!” you wailed, voice breaking into filthy cries, your nails clawing down his back. “yeah?” he rasped, fucking you harder, the back of your thighs slapping against his thighs with every lift. “you always take it so good for me, baby. look at you—screamin’ for it like a good girl.”
your body trembled, squirt gushing out around his cock as he drilled up into you, making you cry out hoarsely. “ahhh... ahhh—sylus! i’m cumming—ahhhhh, f-fuck, i can’t...!” he groaned deep, grinding you down onto his cock, holding you tighter when your body shook violently in his arms. “there you go, baby. fuuuck... yeah, that's it... fucking cum on my cock.”
your dripping pussy kept convulsing around him, messy and soaking, slick running down his thighs as he never slowed. “sylus—ahhh—nnghh—‘m sensitive—too much—c-can’t think—ahhh!”
“shhh,” he husked against your ear, still pounding you mid-air, his voice a deep growl. “don’t need to think, sweetie. just hold on and let me fuck this pussy—you're not done.”
you’d been perplexed when sylus had called you in the middle of the day—which was usually his favorite time to rest.
“can you come to the base, sweetie?” he’d rasped, voice thick with ruined sleep. “i need your help with something.”
your confusion is all the more reason for you to head to the base. when you arrive, you let yourself in and greet mephisto with a poke on the beak before hurrying to sylus’s bedroom.
“is something wrong?” you breathe, all but barging in. quickly, you scan the room for threats or intruders before your eyes land on the hulking figure in front of you.
the hulking figure who’s uncharacteristically hunched over his bed, head bent and looking defeated.
at your voice, he looks up, and you know him well enough to see the relief and slight embarrassment in his ruby eyes.
“…sylus?” you ask hesitantly, “what’s going on? you should be sleeping right now.”
“i was asleep,” he agrees with a slow nod. “and then…i ran into a slight problem,” he responds carefully, eyes flitting forlornly to the side of the bed.
curious, you come to stand beside him, placing a hand on his sagging shoulder. it takes a few seconds, but then, you spot it: trapped between the dark oak boards of his bedframe is a small brilliant red gem, glittering slightly in what little sunlight fills the room.
“are you able to retrieve it?” he asks quietly. “it must have fallen earlier. when you’re not here…i can’t sleep without it.”
“o…kay?” you reply, your confusion only doubling. taking a moment to study him, you notice the small pout on his face and stroke his slightly mussed hair. “of course i’ll get it. just a sec.”
a moment later, you’re kneeling down to stick your hand in the bedframe and wiggling your fingers until you feel the crystal’s cool surface. you pull it out in one fluid motion, blow the dust off, and deposit it into sylus’s waiting hand. flashing you a tired, grateful smile, he immediately places it securely under his pillow.
“there you go!” you chirp, pleased to have helped him. “but…can i ask something? why didn’t you just fish it out yourself?”
avoiding your gaze, he clears his throat before he speaks.
NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
— Sylus.
cw. fem / afab reader. wife reader & husband sylus. minimal editing, wrote this in a haze. post-sex, but it's heavily implied that you two fuck again in the tub lol. sy loves u and adores u vv much ᯓ ♡
Sylus loves when you get like this. Soft, sweet. A hazy, dreamy look in your eyes, staring up at him like he hung the stars up in the night sky for you.
You're still shaking slightly, body coming down from the throes of orgasm. He can hardly feel the weight of you as you rest on his chest, cheek smushed against his skin and his cock still stuffed inside you, trying to keep his cum from leaking out. You're a vision like this— warm and naked and perfect. You hum, burying your face into his collarbone.
"Hey, sweetie," Sylus breathes softly, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek. His heart prectically melts when your eyes flutter shut and you nuzzle against his touch. You're practically glowing in the low light and he can't take his eyes off of you. "You alright?"
"Perfect," you sigh softly, the breath brushing his palm. He feels a surge of pride in him when your voice comes out hoarse— the result of you moaning and whining his name.
He sits up a bit, the shift making you gasp and clench around him again, but Sylus can hardly bear it any mind. All he can focus on is—
Smooch!
He presses a soft, adoring kiss to your cheek, making you squeak. Before you can react, he does it to your other cheek. And then again to your nose. Your forehead, your eyelashes, your lips. Anywhere and everywhere his lips can reach, he's peppering you with kisses until your giggles fill the bedroom.
"Sylus!" You laugh, hands on his chest, giggling as you try to push him away. But you're still wobbly and weak from your orgasm, so it does nothing more but make him grin.
And the miscreant himself, wearing a much too self-satisfied smirk, presses one last kiss to your hairline and makes extra sure to give it a loud, flourishing mwah!
"Yes, sweetie?"
"That tickles, you doofus," you say, shoving him once again. At least this time he has the decency to act like he felt it, tacking on a little 'oof' just to help you feel a bit better about yourself.
Sylus' warm, broad hands quickly find their place back on your waist, squeezing at the flesh there fondly. He tugs you close once more. "I worship my wife, and this is the thanks I get? How cold. You wound me, dearest love of mine," he quips with a grin, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes.
"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll survive— oh!"
The words are all but ripped from you when Sylus suddenly lifts you, picking you up with ease even as you squeak and wrap your legs around his waist, clawing at his shoulders in surprise. He grunts as your tighten around him, but otherwise just adjusts his arms around you, holding you tighter against his chest as he begins walking in the direction of his luxurious bathroom.
"If you still have enough energy to sass me, that means I haven't done a good enough job of tiring you out," he grins, fingers tightening on your hips, and you whimper when you can feel him begin to subtly rock you on his cock with each step, grinding his tip deep. Each step jolts you on him slightly, and you can feel your mixed release steadily dripping out of you.
"Maybe another round in the tub would do the trick," Sylus murmurs, hands squeezing you eagerly. "Don't you think so, sweetie?"
Zayne and I are chill, unlike whatever canon mc has going on... I also take my health very seriously. (Also I have narcolepsy in case you were wondering about the sleep attacks.)
Bonus:
Thanks sir for listening to me talk about literally anything and everything.
sylus would definitely go to a meeting covered in hickies
tw: smut-biting-marking-scratching-
A negotiation is a silent conversation. Eyes convey all; words are like bullets, especially with the man on the south end of the table. A smart man knows when it’s time to draw and when it’s time to pull the trigger. A dead man doesn’t. The three other negotiators exclude him from their discussion. Three crooked businessmen, each having blood on their hands and money in their pockets and deception in their hearts, say nothing, but their eyes gossip to their hearts' content. Their eyes dance, one to the other, a waltz of confusion.
Is that…?
Are you certain?
I believe so.
Eyes convey so much in a negotiation with so little. The three killers can all agree to let the masks slip for a moment; it’s only fair considering the circumstances. How shameless the Onychinous leader is, more so than what people talk about. How he stalked into the room, right on time, his presence like winter’s chilling breeze blowing in from an open window. The infamous Mr.Sylus, sits down and immediately demands attention with nothing but his appearance. His usual spotless figure is disfigured, which they easily spy; his typical spotless pale skin burns in ugly red patches crawling down his neck. Some are a soft pink and fading, while most look as if he’d been bitten by an unforgiving insect.
Mr.Sylus sits in the chair like he has a gun in his hand, and he’s holding everybody in the room hostage. He knows good and well why the three are struck by surprise.
The negotiators go from startled to curious. Who managed to get their hands (or rather mouth) on the most dangerous man of the N109 Zone? The one whose presence is everywhere but nowhere all at once? where even the most trained assassins, killers who have been taking lives since birth, have failed time and time again to leave even a single cut on his skin. But someone out there in the great big universe left a big red sign of their existence on the great leader of the omnipresent. It's vandalism, and whoever they are, they must be formidable.
The three negotiators look at Sylus like a madman, but they don’t even know the real bounds of it, the state you’ve left his body in, and he's overflowing with pleasure at the thoughts that brew in his mind. Beyond his collar is a memory of your mouth, your unrelenting attack from his throat to his cock still wet from your cunt. You called it marking your territory, and he wholly agreed. Take what’s yours, he told you in breathless praise as you did just that. Take him and do what you wish, and be assured he’ll enjoy himself in every way.
You did mention as a concern that he had a commitment and should look presentable, but he brushed the thought away for you. Reputation matters so little when you're bare on top of him, leaving damp spots on his pants with the essence that oozed out of your hungry pussy. And your mouth was just as greedy. Hardly holding back, even as he hissed from the pinch of your teeth after your loving kisses. The vulnerable sound only encouraged you, and he’s glad you caught on so quickly. Undressing him like gift wrapping as he helped, leaving your claim on the flesh you exposed with every unravel.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” he pops the question like a bottle of champagne laced with poison; his grin is all the same
One of them coughs, another looks towards his cigar, and the last shakes his head, “Of course not.”
sylus takes a long look at him before chuckling, “Rest assured, I’m perfectly fine. The truth is, I have a cat at home.”
He can almost feel you again, a flashback of your glare as you run your mouth along his V-line between his legs. His patience chips in that moment, “She’s very cute but a biter.”
and a scratcher. If they could see the chaos carved out on his back. Like a cat satisfying a need against a scratch post, he’s happy to be yours when it comes to taking care of his kitten, who was all bold before, sinking her teeth into him until he filled her with dick. Then she went all docile, still putting up a fight.
How you dragged your sharp claws with no rhyme or reason, narrowly breaking skin in small bubbles of blood as he held your thighs apart to drill your pussy, insisting she take every thick inch of his cock.
sylusss you whine from your pretty pouty mouth- it's too big.
With a grin as prideful as sin, he can’t help but ask, Are you sure? He was under the impression you liked when he opened you up like this. Didn’t you like how he touched your stomach from the inside? Doesn't that feel good? He purred in your ear, rich like temptation. You marked your territory; won’t you let him do the same?
He already knew your answer before you started begging; you left it along his skin, and it burned so good with his dick buried in your wet clutch, adding an edge to the pleasure that made his brain mush.
Your scratches encouraged him; they told him you wanted more, and he embraced you with a fraction of his weight collapsed on top, your soft little tits pressed against his massive chest just the way you like. He ground his cock in, slow and precise, making you feel the stretch of it as puffy veins swim in the gooey sweetness flooding out of your pussy.
The shift in angle knocked him into new spots, sensitive little bundles inside that made you shake and mewl. The short grey hairs at the base of his happy trail grazed your clit with every roll of his waistline, and he was intentional with rubbing on the pearl, patronizingly responding to your broken moans of his name as you tried to move with him. You dug your claws deeper, and he’s drooled on your shoulder, cursing, his rhythm stuttered when your pussy twitches.
He left a tender bite on your shoulder. The hot trail left along the edges of his spine told him you wanted to cum, just like your pussy rushing in waves of slick as she throbs. She needed it. so so bad and so did he...your claws took pieces of him when you unraveled, and he panted your name in a breathless mantra. He used your orgasm as a catalyst for his own; he looked in your eyes, blown out in lust, and rode the tight squeeze of your pussy as you kept cumming on his cock. It was your claws and your fangs that sent him over with you, a bite to his throat and nails along his lower back. You whispered his name again. You begged for his seed as your legs held him where you wanted it.
“Mr. Sylus?”
The negotiators watch him with unease.
They don’t know he’s stiffening along his zipper, thinking about the load he spilt deep inside his kitten as his back radiates, as if the sun sits directly behind him.
sylus looks at them, his eyes asking a very apathetic what?
“Your terms for the deal?” they request carefully
A tension comes and goes on his jawline as he looks to his side in a mockery of consideration, “How about... I give you three what you want, and in exchange we end this exchange,” his eyes narrow on them, “right now.”
“I-“
“And before you ask why,” he continues, adjusting himself decently before getting to his feet, “it’s because I'd much rather spend my time getting mangled by my cat than discuss protocores that hold no value to me.”
In a negotiation there are always two winners: one who thinks they’ve won and the one who actually got the better deal. As Mr. Sylus disappears in a mist of ominous black and red that lingers for a short moment, the three negotiators ask themselves quietly which of the two they were.
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