cw; drugging, worship/cult, dubcon, sacrifice, sylus is a god.
wc; 4k
reddened fingers pressed at the flat of your tongue, stained with the juice of crushed berries. rumor had it that there were aphrodisiacs mixed in or psychedelics. your eyes are fixated on the man before you, he's needing to squat to look you in the eyes. the tip of your tongue flicks at the pads of his fingers, savoring the sweet taste.
you would follow him into unspeakable depths, he wouldn't need to even ask. his thumb strokes at your cheek, rubbing in the fat tears that fall in devotion. he was a god amongst men, but still his bloodied eyes landed on you. it was obvious the flock envied you; the whispers, the spiteful glares and the isolation. how could it be your fault that you were sylus's favorite?
the outsider, that's what you had came in as. someone that traveled thousands of miles to see him, maybe that was your first mistake. being so willing. the second would be falling in love with him and the third would be his own fault of reciprocating the feeling.
your lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking any remainder of juice from them. he couldn’t blame your diligence, it was what got you to this point. such a obedient pet. absentmindedly, he licks his lips at the saliva that seeped from the corners of your mouth. after having your fill, his fingers are pruned from the wetness of your mouth. he leans down, drenched fingers pulling your chin up so that his lips can rest against yours.
you gasp, stupefied at the action. you weren't the only one surprised, the congregation filled with shocked murmurs. surely no human was worthy of this treatment, especially not you. there was a numbing buzz to his kiss, a spice that opposed the lingering sweetness of the berries. you didn't reject him though, sinking into his hold. that made a corner of his lips quirk upwards. of course you would be the one to complete this long standing ritual.
sharpened nails dig into your thighs, he's on his knees in front of you. his body wraps around your legs, it's a hug. he pleas for you, it's almost pitiable if he wasn't drawing blood from your skin. the pain is blurred, only slight pricks against your skin. you're dizzy, swirls in your vision make you sway. it's hypnotizing, his voice clear in your ears even though your mind silences itself.
your eyes shut, it feels like youre falling, but a jolt shocks your body awake before you hit the probable ground. the sound your mouth makes isn't one you'd ever heard yourself make before, nor is what you're feeling remotely familiar. his tongue between your thighs is foreign, but it makes you pull at his silver scalp. you crave so much more. red eyes see through you and grant what your wish, pressing his thumb into you.
you don't remember shutting your eyes, but they flutter open to sylus. sweat coats his bare body in a slight sheen, the red crystal in his chest obscures your face, but you see your body writhing. there's my girl, it echoes in your head as his fingers work themselves into your sopping cunt. the pressure beneath you is soft, you sank deeper into his mattress. razor teeth nip at your ear, you should really respond when someone asks you a question. rude if you don't, sweetie.
a scream shakes you to consciousness. you're being ripped open, it feels like. your teeth are in sylus's shoulder, muffling the cries to make way for the sounds of you welcoming his upward thrusts. he's hugging you again, there's incoherent curses and whines in your ear. how would mere mortal decipher a god's own praise and prayers?
waking up the final time isn't jarring, the room is empty. the balcony door is open and a gentle breeze is disturbing the sheer curtains. your head throbs with flashes of intimate memories, you stifle a gasp with trembling hands. you should feel honored, he rasps from outside. his voice sends a shiver down your spine, recalling the way he said your name in groans or the 'thank you for accepting me, my dove'.
a quiet admission of your love drifted with a small gust of wind, you hoped he didn't hear. he just wondered how long it would take for you to notice the band of ink around your ring finger, a vow of eternity.
Back on forced proximity/bonding rn, dilfy Sylus keeping you on his lap after you've been bad to show you you can be a good girl. (Sorry I'm so depraved for him.)
I like to imagine a captive! mc in the earlier/resistant stages of their arrangement here thank you for sending this in nonnie 💗 don’t apologize because we’re actually both down bad for a dilfy, possessive Sylus determined to make mc behave.
tw. heavy dubcon vibes, allusions to captivity + stockholm syndrome, power imbalance, nsfw themes; small random drabble to regain feeling in my writer fingertips
“B-But I- I don’t want to be at the meeting.”
“You will.”
Perhaps his low, baritone voice humming at the shell of your ear should be reassuring, but as your transgression flashes through your mind- and the knowing that he always doles out punishment accordingly- you’re hardly comforted.
Worse has happened to him. Than what you did, you mean.
Bullets follow him everywhere, some have clipped him, some have missed him and some have punctured bone. Mysterious men in black trail you on those impromptu, isolated dates he takes you out on and no matter how often he’s been interrupted, it never fails to dampen the mood.
He’s been stabbed and shot and lied to. Betrayed by those he’s fostered under his organization, mouths that he’s been kind enough to feed.
When vermin step on his toes, Sylus becomes the worst thing to ever happen to them.
And the reality is that you’ve been blatantly dishonest to his face. As if the first couple times weren’t enough, he’s found you going around his back again, and God, kitten, you’re more like a rat than anything- scurrying underneath his feet, darting for the shadows. Looking for a place to hide. For a place to run.
Predictable. Very.
…But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely without pity.
So in lieu of a gun to the head, or badder yet, those red tendrils to envelope your limbs and snap, he takes a different road.
The higher one, he might call it. Spares you the brutality.
Doesn’t spare you the dignity though, because when his men trickle into the room and take their perches at the round table, Sylus’s hand doesn’t shift from your thigh to a more… appropriate location, no, and he doesn’t let up even when you nuzzle into his neck and whine softly, silently praying for a way out.
Nightwear drapes over your body in delicate frills, your babydoll hardly long or thick enough to cover the skin beneath: just how he likes it. You’re shivering, but not simply from the cold, or the nerves that come along with being seen while so scantily dressed.
In his pocket, you feel the lump of your panties, stashed there like gold.
Apparently, you do not deserve that thin barrier of protection, nor the soft, cottony feel as opposed to the scratchy tweed of his pants.
It’s a very raw, motionless form of panic that siphons through your veins now, silently scattering your pulse.
Despite it all, Sylus isn’t a complete, ruthless monster— to you, anyway— you know he won’t toss you to the metaphorical den of wolves you’re in (or would he?), but the imagined threat is still there, slowly warming your blood with fear, swarming your head with doubt.
If his goal is to make you feel as vulnerable as possible (and to be clear, it is) and force you into being more dependent on him, it’s working. Right now, there’s little choice but to place all your trust in him and hope he’ll forgive you by the end of this ordeal; still deem you worthy enough of his protection, his care, his loyalty.
Whether or not you ever asked for it to begin with is irrelevant.
A mouse of uncertainty races through your brain: Why is he letting them see you like this? How many times has it been now that he’s fucked you slow and deep on his marshmallow-soft mattress, grunting in your ear that you’re the only one for him, coaxing out more of the same vows from your own unwilling lips?
This undoes all of that.
The twins don’t have bad intentions, the fiend knows this. They can only linger around you for so long, though, and nobody else comes close to sharing that make-do permit.
Beneath you, your captor shifts, as if this is even half as uncomfortable for him as it is for you. That almost makes you scoff with anger, but you think better of it. The present is meant for you to change course and convince him of your reliable character, after all, and it’s a silent expectation of his that you will behave- especially after your little stunt earlier.
A thick swallow- yours.
A too-fresh memory dredges itself up. Dark, ominous eyes, and an effulgent shade of red glowing brighter with every solemn stride forward. Once he’d found you at the door, futilely picking at the lock with trembling hands- sabotaged by your own panic- he’d bridged the gap and snatched your wrist, little signage of his anger save for the flex of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. But oh, you’d known your demise was spelled out right then and there.
It makes your breast flutter now, adrenaline surging for a second time.
At some point a low voice can be heard, muttering between conversation. “Stay still.”
With some unexpressed shock, you feel his long fingers adjust the lacy hem of your babydoll, tugging it further down your bare legs. Covering you up out of sheer selfishness. But the bulk of your unease lingers, as does the idea of fleeing.
He did this to you in the first place... What’s it matter if he tries to preserve some of your skin now, save you from the prying, hungry eyes of the wolf-like operatives in the room? He chose this punishment- honestly, it’s more infuriating than anything if he suddenly decides to switch gears.
The noise, the vapid chatter of the meeting that might as well be a foreign language to you, continues on, but for an odd moment, your heart falls silent.
A shooting star of regret blurs through, then, lighting your conscience.
For all your attempts to escape Sylus’s bedroom, the bougie, silken sheets he leaves you swaddled in every morning, you’re sure wishing you could go back to it now…
Mephisto’s company is a million- no, a gazillion times better even- than these disreputable, yet no less powerful men that burn paths over your spine to the nape of your neck, their eyes foraging your body for a sign of movement, of fear. A slip of smooth, supple flesh.
Do they know? That your captor has stripped you of your underwear, that beneath this pretty, dreamy blue article Sylus loathes to reveal you in that you’re perfectly naked? And as aware of it as Eve?
Don’t bleed in front of the sharks, a voice in your brain sagely whispers, and really, that fraying ribbon of resolve is all that stops you from crying as your bottom lip starts to wobble.
You hate him, God knows you do.
…Yet you hug him tighter, clinging to the very man who’s done this to you like a limpet. And perhaps what you despise more than him is the fact that it feels right, under all the unique layers of doubt and hurt, to lean into his warmth.
To give in.
And you don’t even care anymore if you’re a traitor to both him and yourself, if this means he’s won, if some sick, twisted part of him reaches its fulfillment when you anxiously fist at his tie, trying to bore yourself into his ribcage like a screw.
You just want this miniature humiliation ritual to be over.
Eventually, your quiet, somewhat intentional attempts at garnering sympathy must work, because something in his intention changes.
It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to discipline you anymore- like he’s trying to have some cruel, I told you so moment while he reclines in his chair and resembles the cat that got the canary.
On the contrary, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it’s remorse that takes ahold of him, smoothing the agitated bunch in his brow.
Large hands slowly lift. One from your ass to loop around your lower back; the other slowly stretching around your shoulder to pull you even closer to him.
You breathe in his scent, up close and impossibly more personal, and as you shut your eyes and desperately envision yourself somewhere else, with the twins or arguing with Mephisto, a begrudging murmur stirs at your ear.
A concession: “Alright. That’s good enough.”
That much is meant for you and you alone, but his next words crescendo into a shout that addresses the whole room, “Everyone- out.”
There’s a collective pause to process their boss’ sudden dismissal, but no follow-up questions are asked, and nobody needs to be told a second time.
It’s only when they’re gone, the heavy door sealing behind them, that you let your shoulders finally slump.
It’s done.
Sylus draws back slightly just to prop his knuckles under your chin, guiding your wet gaze to his so he can regard you in that wordless, shrewd way he always does.
Ruby gemstones shine back at you, but not with all the smugness you’re expecting; they’re streaked with an unease that momentarily stuns you.
Devil, it must be the rational part of you that seethes in turn. But oh, it’s finally over, those tortuous minutes that felt like hours, flayed apart the longer you’d been forced to sit half naked on his lap, and the frightful piece of you says something different.
Tiny fingers dig into his suit, his gaze cataloguing every micro-expression, every sign of internal conflict that seeps into your appearance.
Savior.
He opens his mouth then pauses for a second, understanding what you are not saying, though you won’t pretend to understand it yourself, “I’ll admit that I need to find a more… suitable punishment for you, Kitten. I…”
A short, unhappy huff. Registering that his sentence has no destination, he starts anew.
“It felt just as unpleasant for me.”
An upward twitch of his lips- no doubt an attempt to match his typical, smug aura- but it fails to hold any true mirth, or even condescension, “So what sense would it make to drag it out?”
Long digits trail up your side, weighing something. Your heart hangs pendant in your chest, waiting for his word, albeit now that the outsiders- those invaders to your new home- have left, your peace of mind slowly reappears over the horizon.
Again, Sylus pauses, staring at you like you have the answer for his inward dilemma; knowing full well that you could not explain this phenomenon of passion to him even if you tried. You are just a girl. He’s forty something years old, twenty your senior— he should have this figured out already. He doesn’t.
Truth be told there is no accurate label other than love to detail this jealous, restless maelstrom he is experiencing, and fuck, hasn’t he known that for a while now? But maybe it’s pride that blocks his path, stretches his inevitable fall.
Plants these nasty seeds in his head, telling him he must cut to where it hurts you most in order for you to fucking see—
That you’re his. And he is yours.
A shallow breath of perfect realization. As he exhales, it blows against your lips and it’s not long before he leans in to sample the sweetness there. With great hesitance, and a feeling that scares you- maybe just autopilot at this point- you clumsily return his ardent, almost tender kiss.
Maybe not the best, nor most ethical measures were taken in the name of discipline, sure… he knows that now that he’s dwelling in this unneglectable morsel of guilt.
But Sylus does wonder if it worked any.
…
The conclusion:
You melt, coiling into his warmth and practically caterwauling into the underside of his scratchy jaw, nuzzling into the tendon of his neck where his flesh is most susceptible to damage, to the teeth you’ve fruitlessly tried to sink there before.
“I- I wanna go back to your bed, Sylus.”
A satisfied, if not slightly exasperated huff. The chair screeches underneath as he effortlessly lifts you up.
18+ I just know Sylus is low key mean during sex when he's frustrated. Now, I know that sounds redundant, like of course he'd be mean if he's already in a bad mood. But like, not the mean you're probably imagining.
He's condescending.
He’s holding you down on the bed with his evol so his hands are completely free. He’s purposely spreading you open nice and wide, exposing you almost embarrassingly. Watching you squirm as he blows on your exposed clit.
“Aww, too sensitive? My poor baby.” You want to argue back, you want to squeeze your thighs closed. But something about this feels so good, too good.
“She’s so pretty all spread like this. Just for me.” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut as heat floods your face. He’s studying you too intensely, for some reason it feels more intimate than his mouth being on you.
“Y-you’re so mean…!” But it’s weak, you’re barely able to take yourself seriously as Sylus chuckles. “Oh I know, I’m so mean. Sitting here complimenting your pretty cunt…”
We’re slowly returning to our regularly scheduled program y’all… I miss my man… but I am a hyperfixater at heart so plz bear with me with the Valko content I assure you it should die down once he debuts. Because I really do miss Sylus </3 - Soul
It was a particularly cold day in the N109 zone. The base’s heating systems seemed to be working overtime, yet they failed to provide the warmth only your walking space heater could, Sylus. But he was away on business, so for now, you resorted to wrapping yourself in as many blankets as possible.
Scrolling through videos under the huge pile of bedding, you buried your face beneath the thick quilts, choosing potential suffocation over the biting chill of the room. Eventually, even you grew bored of staying in one place for half the day.
Dramatically pushing the layers off your body, you were hit with a sudden draft that raised goosebumps all over your skin. The fact that you were only wearing shorts wasn't helping, but the rest of your clothes had ended up in the laundry.
Right as you were about to give up and huddle back into your haven, you spotted something resting on Sylus’s desk chair. Squinting to get a better look, you realized it was his motorcycle jacket.
Mmm, he wouldn’t mind, would he? You thought as you walked over to the desk, wondering if it would even be able to keep you warm enough. You had never borrowed his clothes before, never needing to since you had your own closet prepped here in his base. But today was a special case. As your thumb ran over the heavy fleece lining inside the jacket, you knew you definitely needed it. Plus, knowing him, Sylus would let you take his soul if you wanted to; What was a jacket?
So you went on your merry way, spending the day wrapped in his scent, exploring the new corners of the base you somehow still managed to find after all this time.
By the time Sylus finished his affairs and returned home, you were left bored and twiddling your thumbs on the couch, sprawling across it while playing a video game on your phone. It was evening and the house had settled into a comfortable temperature, but you still couldn't bring yourself to part with the cloud like material of his jacket.
Sylus, looking weary as ever, stepped through the main door, slipping off his shoes and coat. Hearing his entrance, your body jolted up and you rushed over to where he stood. “Sylus! You’re back!”
Glancing up at you, he let his shoulders relax just a little as he took in your entire figure. Realizing what you were wearing, his eyebrow cocked up, his face shifting into immediate amusement. Reaching him, you leaned up and hugged his neck, letting his strong cologne and physical warmth replace the flimsy reassurance the jacket had given you all these hours.
Looking down at you, Sylus seemed to realize a few things. Of course, it had always been obvious that you were much shorter and smaller than him. But seeing his jacket, tailored to him perfectly, now resting on you almost like an oversized cloak... The sleeves easily reached past your hands, leaving your fingertips completely out of sight. The broad shoulder pads drooped almost halfway down your arms, and the hem spanned all the way to your mid-thigh. Yeah, you were engulfed.
A part of him felt strangely territorial at the sight. His lover, in his clothing, showing him exactly how small and fragile you were compared to him.
Noticing he was still staring, you looked down at yourself, remembering your little thievery earlier. “Oh yeah, sorry. It was so cold in here, I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it.”
“Quite the contrary, sweety.”
You were splayed on his bed, entirely naked except for the jacket still draped over your trembling body after Sylus insisted you keep it on. He was a man who usually let you take the lead, letting you use him however you pleased. But today, his restraint seemed to be teetering on snapping entirely.
Two of his fingers were curled up deep in your cunt, more than enough to stuff you fully.
“Just so pliant for me, aren't you, kitten? My fingers are all you can take,” he huffed mockingly, looking at you pathetically squirming and struggling over practically nothing compared to what he could really be giving you.
He worked rhythmically, letting his digits plunge in and out of you with obscene squelches. “I wonder if I'll even fit.” Sylus could basically be talking to himself; you were too far gone with the way he kept prodding and bullying against that one spot, making your eyes roll back into your skull.
“We should check, no?” At your lack of response, Sylus retracted his fingers suddenly, the glisten of your juices dripping down his knuckles as he lapped it all up devotedly.
“Sylus- wha–,” you started to protest, but he cut you off with a hard rub to your clit, effectively silencing you. You let out a desperate whimper, arching off the bed as he delivered the final push into your unraveling.
Too distracted by your orgasm, you didn't notice that Sylus had already pushed off his pants and underwear. You looked up to see his dick spring up against his abdomen, an angry red that looked almost painful. Reaching back to hover over you, he lined himself on top of your stomach– heavy and warm, the tip reaching all the way to your belly button. If it wasn't for the rolling afterwaves of your high, you would've tried to claw away from him at the sight.
Sylus looked down at you, slotted perfectly beneath him, the jacket falling open further with the rise and fall of your chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in as you tried to anchor yourself while his thick cock kept shoving inside you, inch by inch.
You just felt so goddamn full.
Gazing past your chest, you saw he wasn't even halfway done feeding you his length, yet you could already see the faint outline of where his cock rested, peeking through your belly.
“You can do better, sweety. Be good and take everything for me, hm?” He still had that insufferable smirk on his face, thoroughly amused by your plight. This prick. To take your own little revenge, you dug your nails into him deeper and clenched his cock with everything your poor pussy could offer, which earned a sharp hiss from him.
“Stop! No– no more, Sylus- AHH-!” Your breathless words were cut off entirely as he leaned over, placed a palm flat against the growing bulge in your lower tummy, and pressed.
You swore you could see nothing but white. You practically drenched him with how much your cunt squirted. Sylus chuckled darkly, looking down at you like his new little plaything.
“You can give me more of that now, can't you?”
Perm: @lanalemonn @hilliserose
♡ Bunny's Note: Let me know if you want the rest of the LIs for this trope! Whose hoodie or shirt shall we steal next? ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎
edit: I resposted this to see if it'll show up on search and tags again, cause i think tumblr was spam filtering me.
valko marking his territory (ur front porch) when u are away!
he has tracked ur scent, sweet and candy like, all the way to ur house. and every night he comes back just to imagine the ways he could introduce himself! :c poor puppy it’s just a little nervous to reach u, so he complies with marking ur place so no one else comes near u! oh he would love to mark ur body too </3 baby boy has to improve his social skills
writing this because fuck it. ovulating and I need him now.
scent kink, collar/leash, marking, mutual masturbation, turning valko's brain off because grrhrrh, letting him get some control back because grrhrrh, ooc because we don't know personality yet, this was made mostly at 2 am
"h-hah... nnnfh...hhmmm..." valko nose is buried in your neck, right on your pulse point, where you smell is strongest. he's been getting off to the smell of you for the past 10 minutes. riled up and unable to come down. you keep the leash connected to his collar taut on your hand. making sure all he can smell is just you, you, you.
his ears press flat against his skull, while his tail wags behind him like helicopter blades. his cock aches, it's begging to be freed from his slacks, and you won't let him. you've just been palming slowly at him like a form of forbidden torture.
"p-please... oh fuck...hah...please pup, please. can't t-take it." he begs, pathetically pressing kisses against your warm skin to entice you to free him from his cloth prison. you let the leash slack and he lifts his head up some to meet you with lidded amber eyes. your scent has thoroughly shut his brain off.
"think you deserve it?" you can't help but snicker faintly at him. seeing valko in this state. helpless. at your mercy just over your smell and some palming. he nods his head once, ears perking up before he just grumbles. he's fucking drooling at the chance for you to pump his cock. he doesn't care.
his look and petulant grumble breaks you, and you help the werewolf free his cock. it springs up from his boxers, standing tall and at attention. the bead of precum bubbling from his tip shows how bad he wants you. needs you.
"this is how bad i need you... always...always like this...." before he can finish his thoughts, he's tugged by your grace to find solace in your scent once more. now you get to watch his cock throb freely. watch it leak pre with every deep inhale he takes of your smell. you take his shaft in your grip, pumping slowly. thumb rubbing over that glistening tip as it spills his natural lube.
he's gotten more vicious. slight revenge for making him wait. he's intentionally marking you, leaving hickies and remnants of himself on your skin so his pack knows who you belong to. not like he'd let anyone get close to you anyways. his tongue laps at your skin after a nibble on your skin. his restraint is slowly failing as his arms wrap around your form.
"touch me... like you want me. show me that.... i picked the perfect mate."
if his nose remains any longer in your neck, he wouldn't even know where he is anymore. the slack on the leash gives him just enough space to reach your mouth, wet puppy kisses meeting you. an awkward moment of teeth clashing until you both ease into the kiss, one of valko's hands running slowly down your torso. curving around your hips until it's down between your legs, slipping hastily into your panties.
the wetness his fingers are met with makes him shiver, and the pace of his tail turns into a steady thump thump thump against the bed.
he breaks the kiss momentarily, just to tease. "you're enjoying this... as much as me? it's soaking down here." he chuckles, fingers rubbing at your wet pussy while your hand strokes his aching cock. nothing mattered to him right now besides you and your mind numbing smell. it was the only thing that could get that beast inside him to still and calm. yet, simultaneously, it wears at every moral sense in his head and turns him to mush.
"you feel me, pup? i can feel you, too... its good... so good. don't stop." his thick fingers curl inside your needy cunt, making your legs squeeze around his hand as you work his dick even faster, harder. he matches your pace, growling into your ear against his better will. even the slight hint of a needy whimper leaves him, and he bites his lip hard and hides in your neck again. he would hate it if you heard that sound that came from him.
and he hates how close he is. how he wants to rut his hips up and fuck your palm like the dog he is. but all he does is turn to bite on your neck again, working his fingers to get you close as well. neither of you say a word, but the bond you two have formed tells you both that you have to release.
valko grumbles, a low animalistic noise deep in his chest when he cums, throwing his head back as he spills himself over your hand. you cum all over his fingers in turn, leaving you both blissed and fucked out.
the room falls silent besides some slow panting from the both of you. coming down from his high, valko observes the litter of marks he's left you with on your neck, leaning down to lick at a particularly deep red one as a silent apology. well, not really. you were his, his territory. people needed to see that with every last mark he's left on you. now his licks feel like that of a soft puppy's, though claiming, it soothes you to settle and brings you down from cloud nine.
tags: pseudo-incest, daddy kink/ddlg heavy, age gap, sexual content 18+ mdni,
wc: 4k
Dad Sylus makes every room feel a little bit smaller when he walks in.
He's unpredictable and doesn't say much. So mysterious, he moves through the estate like he haunts it.
Even when he's on a business trip, his absence follows you everywhere. And when he's home, your heart runs like it's trying to flee when you find him staring at you first. Like a challenge, as if he's quietly sizing up your potential.
Dad Sylus might look super strict and old-fashioned, but he doesn't seek to be the authority in your life. Less like a ruler, more like a castle. He doesn't reprimand your spoiled attitude and the way you tease him. Or for wearing tiny clothes, even when it raises eyebrows at the country club.
Bend over in his vicinity and he's perfectly fine with catching your lacy panties under a mini golf skirt. His idea of discipline is him reaching over and curling a finger under the seat of your panties. To pull and snap! the sticky fabric against your lips.
"Nice swing," He compliments, grinning truly sincere before going back to the game.
Owning a multi-billion dollar business is not easy, even a man like Dad Sylus gets so stressed. His favorite way to destress is to find you lazily sprawled out on your stomach in bed. Like always.
As you scroll through your phone, he settles behind you. Head resting on your butt, legs trapped under him so you can't crawl away.
"Hey! You're too heavy-!" You whine, trying to move your thighs but you're completely immobilized, "Get offff"
"In a moment, I have a meeting with troublesome men tonight. At this very hour, they plan to ruin us. It will fail but.." He sighs like an eye roll, and you freeze feeling a large warm hand feel up and down the curve of your ass, " You don't really mind if I lay here, right kitten? You make a very good pillow."
So many pet names, whenever Dad Sylus wants your attention and crude affection, which is all the time.
Kitten. Sweetie. Baby. Princess. His voice lures you into his touch every time. Like the way you'd pet a cat, he's careful but so eager.
You relent with a scowl, "Fine..but no snoring."
“Good girl. Now stop moving, pillows don’t squirm.”
You can't believe how scattered you get every time he opens his mouth. Body brimming with heat and you trying to fight the urge to relieve it.
You swear Dad Sylus lives in the walls or something. Always buying you things the minute it comes out of your mouth, regardless if he's around or not. Millions of dollars worth of jewelry left on your bed. New clothes in your closets. His spending habits used to confuse you, but you can interpret the gifts as his way of being nice. So you happily accept each one.
And it doesn't matter what you want or need, Dad Sylus will get it for you with no shame. The charger to your vibrator breaks and the next day you find a mini sex store inside your bedside drawer. A variety of toys with different colors and curves for your pleasure. You wonder if this is something your dad should be giving to you, especially the dildo.
You despise it, the way it looks and feels so realistic in your hands. You're too embarrassed to give it back and fussy that he gave it to you, but you're curious enough one night to give it a try.
And damn your curiosity. It takes one time of slowly easing yourself down on it's thick silicon shaft wet with lube (that he also bought), chewing on your lip as you're touched in places you've never felt before. One time becomes multiple over the course of weeks, months. Your latest gift from Dad Sylus being the only thing that can make you cum the way you want. You're completely addicted to the stretch that leaves you breathless-vibrator be damned.
Dad Sylus has strange habits but that's just the way he is. Like picking out your outfits for a day trip or personally making your meals (despite having chefs on-call). He leaves the door ajar when he showers so you can hear him sing a classic. Pays no mind to your prying eyes and he lets you enter if you need something, even though there are plenty other bathrooms.
It becomes a normal occurrence for you to crawl into his bed when you can't sleep. You forget Dad Sylus ritually sleeps naked, but by the time you're drowning in sheets laced with his scent, it's way too late and you don’t care. You're out like a light to the sounds of his sleepy moans, to your name timid under his breath.
He cuddles you when you roll towards his side of the bed. As if his cock wouldn't be brushing against your thighs all night. Sometimes you join him nude and Dad Sylus complains about how cold you are. He mothers you in his muscles when you try to inch away. Hums a lullaby in his low gravel voice as a way to appease you.
He can't tell if you know what you're doing, but Dad Sylus doesn't mind. He's willing to satiate any desire you might have, except the one that has you mewling his name at night. He's so mean about it but fair enough, considering how highly inappropriate that would be.
So when you "accidentally" brush a hand against his belt and let it linger, he takes your wrist and gives it a kiss. When you try to go for an actual kiss, he distracts you with something shiny and it always works.
Even perched on his lap entertained by the TV, he holds your waist steady in his big hands. He admires your hips and stops the subtle grind of your lower half hoping to provoke him.
Being denied over and over again, no matter what, is infuriating. Especially when you can get anything else you want. But the rejection only makes you bolder, much to his enjoyment.
The idea of giving up doesn't exist in your head. You're entitled and persistent just like the spoiled brat you are, but it's his fault isn't it? He encourages it, Dad Sylus admires the depth of your lust for him and for life. How it grows day by day, never satisfied. You have his avarice, maybe even more than that. And by god is he proud of it.
You're shy to say what's on your mind though, even when it's all over your face. But you're a sly one, crawling to kneel between his legs as you corner him. A mere kitten eyeing him down like a beast.
It's a sight he'll never forget, the curve of your nose and warmth from your blush-stained cheek nuzzling against his growing print. Like an animal that wants food. Absolute perfection.
"I was wondering where you ran off to" He says, looking away from his book. More attentive to how pleased you seem. Like you've won something.
Dad Sylus is a lover of learning. Of teaching you a thing or two. He can't let you get what you want that easily, what kind of lesson would that be?
So he holds your head back with one hand. Gently guides your tongue away from his firming erection and back into your pouty little mouth. Letting you suck on width of his thumb instead.
"Am I on the menu tonight?" He questions, tenderly amused as your mouth hollows. He rubs the wet fleshy inside of your cheek and plays with the flick of your tongue "You already ate your dinner, but you look so hungry.."
"Maybe it wasn’t enough.." You retort, eyes narrowed with his finger still in your mouth, and you lick around it with baited persuasion,
You're joking, obviously, but he looks serious when he says, “That appetite of yours is quite impressive.”
It takes patience, and Dad Sylus considers himself a very patient man. He has to be in order to be so, but you make him reconsider everything.
You exist inside a place intensely buried in his soul that's foreign to him, and it desperately wants to be freed. Surprises come rare to a man that's seen everything. He ponders contemplative but his wicked grin already knows the answer, "Tell me what you're in the mood for kitten. I'm feeling generous tonight."
To Dad Sylus, all the years of stalking you from a distance is worth it when he decides to indulge you. Getting to see your sweet beautiful eyes grow big like saucers. Mouth drooling, thighs squeezing together when he slowly unbuckles his belt in his favorite red arm chair.
Night sky. Roaring rain. Handsome fire behind you.
The flames make the crimson in his eyes alluringly haunting as Dad Sylus pulls out the long heavy cock you've been teasing. Same one you've been creaming around all this time much to your surprise. The only difference is this one is real and leaks against his fist. It's raw and it smells like him. Like a real man.
"Looks familiar doesn't it?" He teases, " But you already knew that. Don't look so surprised."
He strokes himself, up and down in front of your face. A drip of precum falls on your nose and you don't even wipe it. You're only meant to look, hands tucked under your plush calves kneeling before him. No touching.
"Why did you give me that toy daddy?" You ask him, feigning innocence,
You watch the way his head slant to the side mischievously, "I wanted to know what you'd do with it." He goes, without an inch of shame, "I'm glad it was well received."
Your face heats up with the idea of him listening through the cracked door to your bedroom. Him seeing you keep it close to your bed. There's a sense of regret you feel for being so shameless, but he reaches over to caress your face,
"You sound so beautiful pleasuring yourself like that. And when you feel good, I do too ."
"Then.." You offer with a subtle leer, "I should show my gratitude right? For the gift?"
"Sure," A ringed finger curls to draws you in closer, where you can lay your head on his meaty thigh, "But nothing more and nothing less kitten."
He chuckles at your huff and taps his swollen cock head against your pout playfully. Mixes precum with your lip gloss that you immediately lick. It's sweet, just like the soft moan that leaves his throat when you kiss his cock the way you kiss his cheek before breakfast. Lips soft and innocently pressed on his tip. Slow pecks against his shaft but you can't stop your tongue peeking out for another taste.
"Tease.." He sighs pleasantly, cock smearing over your bottom lip,
"You don't like it?" You ask, tasting him on your lips
"Does it seem that way?" He muses, eyes glancing to his cock then to your mouth, "Do it again. Give daddy one of your kisses."
It's sloppy, your mouth covering him in your slipping drool. Wiping every bead of precum that drips from the head with the curl and flick of your tongue.
"Keep going.." He gently urges, a hand smoothing over your hair, "Show me how grateful you are."
The taste of Dad Sylus takes root in your brain, growing an arousal that dampens your panties to ruin. You can't stop yourself from wrapping your lips around the head, feeling it pulse against your tongue as you suck.
"Mm..kitten you're letting greed consume you" He lightly scolds,
But he doesn't make any move to pull out. Rather, he urges deep deep past your lips, eases your jaw to widen like your eyes. Avoiding your teeth as he's snug heavy in your throat. You squeal and gag, trying to pull away on full instinct.
"Don't run..you asked for this," He's quick, puts a hand on the back of your head keeping you still as he slots back in, "You can do it. Just relax and breathe."
Dad Sylus lovingly fucks the path down your throat, feeling how you melt. Your tongue obedient and caresses his length as he strokes himself with it. You feel him and all the dilated blood vessels firm with the wetness of your throat.
"You're a fast learner. No surprise there." He breathes your praises, cock twitching along the gentle suction of your doughy cheeks, "You feel full kitten?"
Air passes through your nose, but your head feels light and fuzzy as you moan weakly nodding your head. You're soaked to tears with your heart racing, inner thighs and your pussy all drenched, like the beads of sweat running down back.
Dad Sylus can almost taste you in his mouth. Your scent, sweeter than ever, makes his cock leak like it's crying down your throat.
For the first time in his life, his patience runs empty. Whether its appropriate or not, whether it's right or wrong, that was never a question. Dad Sylus sets you on the priceless rug in front of the fire. Gifts you the unforgettable sight of him puling off his reading glasses, and undoing his tie with the rest of his clothes.
You pull him impatiently to your lips, arms wrapping hungrily around his neck. A very indulgent kiss that has his lower half grinding needily between your legs, against the wetness that overtakes your panties.
"Ha..what a messy kitten…" He whispers with a mocking tune, fingers rubbing your slit, “I didn’t know you were this sensitive.”
A chair pillow placed under your head as Dad Sylus peels the clothes off your body, mouth immediately on the skin that's exposed to him just like the firelight. Sucking the hardening peaks of your tits, the rise and fall of your stomach when your shirt goes. Leaving bite marks at your hips to kiss down your pubic bone, down to your pussy when your bottoms are pulled below your knees.
"Are you sure is this what you want?" A friendly last warning he offers, before you relationship descends into great darkness, "I won't stop once you get me going. Even if you tell me to."
He's grinning when his hushed words make you squirm like you're trying to hide from him.
"Good," You say with a puff of indignant air, back arching as he nips your inner thigh, "You're not allowed to leave me for the rest of the night. Tomorrow night too. And! The night after that."
"Cute.." He whispers fondly, like your words revive something in him, "You don’t actually hate me do you?"
"…Isn't it obvious?"
An undeniable yes, and Dad Sylus wastes no time with it. The fire behind you can't compare to his gaze bearing into yours. His mouth moves like he's wretched to consume every inch of you swallowed like time is endless.
Your body's been brimming with excitement since you cornered him. You're so sensitive the sound of his lips covered in your arousal, making out slowly with your clit is too much. When he slowly feeds you two thick fingers, your back arches off the carpet in bliss.
"D-ah-daddy.."
"I know kitten" He coos, "Such a tight little thing even though you love fucking that fake cock."
Even so, his fingers and his mouth wreck you in perfect tandem. You're a sweaty, shaking mess like your body is short circuiting, "Feels-s-good-" You croon, "More..please "
The once quiet study is filled with your loud cries as Dad Sylus devours you with no mercy. Even when you thread your fingers through his hair and pull, he groans blissful and pulls against your grip. Stuffs his face while feeding your pussy his fingers, double the size of your own. Rubbing the places you're fragile at so affectionately. He doesn't stop until you're squirting warm into his mouth with nonsense blubbering from your lips.
He's dreamt about this moment for years. He's always been jealous of his own gift to you, and he makes a mental note to get rid of it.
You don't need it anymore, a meager toy would never make you so audacious to get on top. To keep him down as you line his cock between your thighs at your core.
Even with how much confidence you exude, Dad Sylus and his loving hands escape your restraints to smooth out the nervous shivers down your spine.
"Scared?" He asks delicately, kissing behind your ear before whispering, "Don’t rush it.”
The head of his cock pushing in almost melts away inside the second you impale yourself.
"..Good girl" He groans with a faint growl, "Nice and slow.."
The head is enough to have you whimpering, his fake replica never felt this thick " 's so big daddy.." you softly mewl
"Of course it's big I’m your Daddy kitten" He drips back into your ear, while holding your chin with gentle fingers, knowing damn well it's not nearly enough, "I’ll always be too big for you."
You glare at him mocking you and hug his neck, face dug into the crook where his cologne smells the strongest. Dad Sylus holds you like that in his arms. Like your trying to crawl beneath his skin. You shake your head, biting his neck when you sink down a little past the tip, where he gets all thick and veiny.
"Sit on your throne princess" He whispers like a bite to your earlobe, from you squeezing like his cock like he owes you something, dragging up and down shallowly, "That's it..let me in."
You're tempted to go all the way down to settle on his lap, but you want to mess with him. A little. As payback. So you pause.
"Hm..?" a lazy hum rumbles from his throat,
"I can't.." You whisper almost like your out of focus, " Too much-"
Which is so far from the truth, but he takes the bait. For a moment.
"That's alright" He promises with a sarcastic smirk, seeing right through you, "I had a feeling you couldn’t handle it. I’ll just give you the tip, how about that?"
"That's n-not what I meant-"
You try to sink even lower but his grip stops you immediately.
"But you just said it’s too much for you," His words condescending , "And I would never dream of hurting my one and only. No matter how much I want to stretch her little pussy out."
You moan almost impatiently, writhing against massive chest. You hear him chuckle, nipping and kissing at your neck.
"But my thighs are sore.." You snivel, another lie
In response to that, Dad Sylus changes positions. Puts you on your back with him hanging above you, with enough force you can't fight back.
"Better now?" He asks, holding you to his liking before pushing back inside. Barely. His hips give shallow strokes while beaming at the sight of your pouty face, "You're so cute whining like that."
The smugness of his smile makes you quick to get your legs around him with a frown. Just as he taught you in the gym, your thighs give an overwhelming squeeze. Ankles crossed behind his back before he can stop you.
“A-ah..”It buries him immediately, "Christ.." He hisses, "So you were messing with me huh?"
He can't stop it, the way he slides deep with so much ease a pleasurable shudder travels from him into you.
" It's not a good to lie to me baby" He groans, lips flashing a salacious smile. His hips immediately start to reel and push, breaking out of your hold but you don't even care. Thighs wide to accommodate him, "Be good and..take your punishment."
Dad Sylus fucks like you imagined he would. He might be kind to you, he might treat you like a spoiled princess but the strength of his body is barbaric. He grabs your hands trying to touch him and binds them together above your head. So easily done, it knocks the air out of your lungs.
"Daddy s-slow-" You half-beg as he ruts into your sloppy cunt. His quiet office overwhelmed with the lecherous sound of skin smacking, of his growls like your were made to mate with him.
"I gave you slow and you didn't want that." He says, breath fanning your face like an aggressive beast, "I rather give it to you like this kitten-I might as well, you've been grabbing at it for awhile."
Dad Sylus knows that his ruthlessness is what you've been hoping for all this time. You start tearing up, whimpering for him, but he doesn't listen. The hot squeeze of your cunt and the pull of your glassy eyes bring him unfathomable pleasure and it loosens his composure.
He's flipping you over on your knees fucking you full in front of the flames. Your entire body bakes in the heat, dripping in his arms like nectar. He's groping at your chest, selfishly all over your smaller body. Hips digging where he wants to barely thrusting. His cock fits so much better than the toy, knocking on the spots entangled in your stomach that make you quake in his grip. Your twitching cunt flooding him with drooling spasms.
"You take me in so well..so soft and wet.." He whispers against your skin, a hand feeling up where his swollen cock pokes dull through the supple flesh of your stomach, "I'm so proud baby"
“Daddy..” You’re blabbering, his praises always mess you up, “l-love your cock-“ You head tilts back to look up at him, "Love you-smuch daddy-"
Dad Sylus never thought you'd utter those words to him. It lodges his heart like a bullet and travels. Goes to his cock that throbs as you
You feel a hand hold the column of your neck, keeping your gaze on the way his eyes glimmer.
"About time you said it" He says warmly, "You already know I adore you. You belong to me-body and soul-"
“Mhmmhm” You do your best to nod through every mind shattering nudge towards your cervix.
Dad Sylus truly believes you are the same as him. It's why you can pleasure each other so intensely. His fingers squeezing the sides of your throat, teasing the hood of your clit below. Making your eyes flutter back. You clamping down on his length like a vice, milking him as you're about ready to burst around him.
Therefore there's nothing wrong with flooding your womb with his seed, dragging you back into his bullying hips. You own half of him and he possesses half of you. In his eyes, you and him are the same so it only makes sense to leave your sore pussy satisfied and bred. Glistening white slowly oozing to drip onto the carpet as your hole twitches from the after shocks. He pushes it all back in to watch it leak out again.
No one’s aftercare is as good as his. Dad Sylus is a natural. A hot shower then loose clothes and bed. Entangled with him as he kisses the soreness away.
Dad Sylus isn’t willing to share. What kind of man gives away his most prized possession? The idea of it is repulsive. Even when rumors start floating around and suspicions linger, nothing matters but making his girl happy.
Even if that means explaining to the situation to your mother.
A/N: There is slight tension and fruitiness between Caleb and Sylus in honor of Pride Month, so if you aren't comfy with that, its totally okay, but this work isn't for you! 𐙚
Caleb and Sylus both agreed on one thing, they had spoiled you rotten.
You knew exactly how to get your way with a stomp of your foot and a bit of incessant whining. They both had a massive soft spot for you, and you absolutely abused it. On the rare occasion that one of them actually stood his ground and denied you something, you simply went running to the other. Without fail, you always ended up getting what you wanted.
So there you were, flopped unceremoniously across Sylus’s bed, dramatically huffing and taking your frustrations out on his pillows. You made sure your tantrum was obvious to the white-haired man sitting at his desk, casually flipping through documents. He looked up at your theatrics, a hint of amusement playing on his face.
Seeing that your efforts were going to waste, you decided to kick it up a notch. You paused all your dramatic thrashing and sat up on the bed, going dead silent. The sudden lack of noise instantly caught Sylus’s attention. That's when you brought out the big guns. With a perfectly timed sniffle, crocodile tears began streaming down your cheeks. Sylus, defeated by your dirty tactics, tossed his documents onto the desk. He sighed, making his way over to the bed before pulling your body against his chest, enveloping you in a warm hug.
"Alright, alright," he murmured, his deep voice vibrating against your ear as he stroked your hair. "We’ll get you your pet wolf. Don't cry now, kitten."
The next of your schemes involved sneaking to the kitchen at 3 am in the morning, staying as quiet as possible as you tiptoed across the cold floors. You opened the fridge and retrieved the goods, and right as you thought you had gotten away with it, you heard someone behind you. Goddammit.
You turned around guiltily to find Caleb standing there, leaning against the wall, shirtless and looking like he had just woken up. Ice cream in hand, you flashed him a nervous smile. "Pips, you know you can't have that so late at night," he scolded gently. Your instincts kicked in immediately. You pouted, hugging the tub close to your chest as you gave him your signature puppy eyes. "But Caleb, pleaseee... I've been craving it." Giving in, Caleb walked over and ruffled your hair with a sigh. "Fine, but not too much, okay?"
And just like that, victory was yours. Half the time, you made ridiculous requests just to test their limits, to see exactly how far they would bend to keep you happy. they were well aware of this fact too. But unbeknownst to you, Caleb and Sylus had recently made a plan. Deciding they officially had enough of your shit with the way your asks became more absurd by the day, they knew they needed to teach their bratty little girl a lesson.
It was a day like any other, you woke up with a slow, heavy stretch, yawning your way out of bed and heading downstairs. In the kitchen, your two boyfriends were already occupying their usual spots. Caleb was making breakfast, while Sylus leaned against the counter, mindlessly popping cherries into his mouth and scrolling through his phone. Scurrying over to Caleb, you leaned over his shoulder, trying to peer into the pan. "I'm almost done, pips. Go sit down," he murmured, not looking up. You blinked down at the eggs sizzling in the pan, and like second nature, felt defiance bubbling up. You looked up at him with a sparkle in your eyes. "But Caleb, I'm craving pancakes today." Right as you expected to watch him immediately pivot to indulge your craving, he did the exact opposite. Caleb glanced down at you, held your gaze for a flat second, and deadpanned, "Nope."
That caught you completely off guard. "Wha-?" It wasn't the kind of "no" that felt negotiable. It wasn't a "maybe" with extra steps. This "no" felt definitive. As you stood there, jaw slightly slack and confused, Caleb simply reached out, picked you up by the waist like a doll, and set you down next to the kitchen island. "Sit down," he ordered softly.
For once, you actually obeyed, slipping into the seat next to Sylus as if in a trance. Caleb caught your expression and let out a smug smirk.
A few moments later, Caleb began setting the plates down on the island. Still reeling from the pancake rejection, your eyes drifted over to the bowl of juicy cherries Sylus was snacking on.
"Can I have som-"
"No."
Before the sentence could even clear your throat, Sylus cut you off. He didn't even look your way as he answered, instead, he popped another cherry between his lips, holding it between his teeth as he leaned back, his gaze locking directly onto Caleb.
Wordlessly, Caleb moved across the space, leaning over the counter to meet him. He closed the distance and took the cherry right from Sylus's mouth, their teeth clashing in a quiet click. They both tried not to laugh at the sight of you looking like a kicked puppy.
The rest of the day went on just like that, a rebellion was what it was. By evening, you were left thoroughly frustrated by the mountain of rejections that had accumulated all day. You could tell something was up, but you knew they couldn't keep this up forever. So, you decided to stage your own overthrow.
When nighttime finally arrived, you got into bed a little earlier than usual. You could hear the steady rush of water from the shower Caleb was running in the bathroom, while Sylus was finishing up some work in his office. Smirking to yourself, you slowly stripped down to just your underwear, a lacy pair you knew that they were weak for. Settling back against the pillows, you slowly spread your thighs and gave a few exploratory flicks to your clit. Mmm. As you started to play with yourself, your fingers spread your folds, rubbing gently before plunging two fingers shallowly inside.
Despite always catering to your every wish and whim, Sylus and Caleb had one strict rule for you, hands off yourself. You knew not to cross this– you never had a reason to anyway, not with two utterly devoted men ready to give you more pleasure than you could ever give yourself. But after a day of them teasing and denying you, you didn't see why you couldn't play their game as well.
Soft moans spilled from your lips, juices leaking through as you could feel yourself getting hotter. Right then, you heard heavy footsteps moving through the hallway outside. Grinning, you worked yourself even harder now. Sylus, on the other hand, reached the outside of the room and knew immediately something was up; he felt your sweet scent filling the air, your faint gasps barely heard. Seems kitten is playing dirty.
Walking inside, he locked eyes with you, only for you to scrunch your eyebrows and put on even more of a show, cunt in full display. And right on cue, Caleb walked out of the bathroom, skin glistening and a towel hanging off his waist. The moment he caught on to the events occurring in the room, he flashed Sylus an unhinged smile.
Your mind had dissolved into absolute mush. Overstimulated as you were kept on your hands and knees, your back arched deeply as Sylus relentlessly drove into you from behind.
You had lost track of how many times you'd finished already, yet there were no signs of stopping. Caleb, meanwhile, was in front of you, admiring the glisten on your face and lips from the previous load he shot up that he was still recovering from, panting with his abs clenching.
You felt another intense orgasm coursing through you, cum and juice spilling out further as your pussy spasmed around Sylus, but this only prompted him to go faster. Tears streaming uncontrollably now, your knuckles turned white with how hard you were gripping the sheets, and you looked up at Caleb, almost pleading with him to reason with Sylus. Almost like Sylus figured out your ploy, he snapped your hips back against him harshly. “Oh no no no, he’s not gonna help you, sweetheart.” Caleb could only grin, giving you a mock pity look. “Aw, is pips tired? Should’ve thought of that before you decided to break the rules, no?” He looked over to Sylus. “Sy, my turn now.” Panting, Sylus plunged balls deep all the way into your cervix one last time before he pulled out completely, manhandling you to switch positions.
Now you were sitting upright, your back leaning against Sylus with your legs being held up and apart by his veiny arms. Caleb took his position immediately, feeding you his cock from the front, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, a tad overstimulated from his earlier release. Sylus, looking at the vulnerable puppy boy, couldn't help but reach out and caress the side of his face, his fingers running through his slightly damp hair. Caleb only subconsciously leaned into his touch all the while plunging completely inside of you, moving in shallow, ragged thrusts.
Then Sylus had an idea. Nipping at your shoulder, his fingers still tangled in Caleb's hair, he gripped a bit tighter, grabbing his attention. “You think she's ready for it?”
“Huh? fuck– yeahyeaheyeah,” Caleb mumbled incoherently, looking absolutely pussydrunk by the way you clenched around him. You were confused. “Sy? Wha- what do you mean ready? Ready for what?” you panted, and right then, you felt something poke at your virgin back entrance. Fuck me, you thought.
Gathering all the slick from your combined releases and giving you a spit of his own, Sylus made sure you were well-lubricated before he attempted the intrusion. It felt weird in the start– an unfamiliar feeling– but you knew better than to oppose it. You were completely at their mercy.
Soon enough, Caleb and Sylus found a shared rhythm, breaching your holes at the same time and building up an insane amount of pressure, slick sounds and moans filling the room. Even Sylus, who wasn't normally vocal in bed, was groaning and whimpering, and in no time, another orgasm ripped through you. “Fuck— yes baby, give it all to me. Come on, I know you can give me more,” you weren't even sure who was talking to you at that point.
Hours dissolved into an exhaustive blur as positions were shifted and forced upon you. You were floating in and out of consciousness. You all looked like a litter of bunnies going at it for so long. You were tired, and just let them move you around for their own pleasure; their combined stamina was ungodly. You could feel your womb bulging with all the semen pumped into you, and finally, with bruising thrusts, they came at the same time, collapsing back against the bed.
God, Smiling in your fucked out state, all you could think was, you still got what you wanted.
♡ Bunny's Note: I'm a tad bit late with this one, thank you for being patient with me! I had to get out of my comfort zone for this one because I explored tropes and dynamics I wouldn't normally, but I hope you enjoyed this! Any suggestions are always appreciated! ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎
Imagine Sylus realizing you haven’t called out of work in over 4 months so he gives you a proper reason to call out the following day by fucking you to the point you genuinely can’t walk without a limp...
“I can’t… I can’t feel… Sylus…!” You didn’t even know it was possible for your legs to bend this far, nevermind that you were this flexible in the first place. His grip on the back of your thighs only grows tighter, squeezing your flesh a little harder as he applies more pressure down.
“Yes you can… you can take it… you’re going to keep taking it like the good girl you are… like the good girl you’ve been…” You can’t control the whimper that leaves you, head tossing back as he presses more of his weight down on you… into you.
The mating press is brutal, your thighs are nearly crushing your breasts at this point. Your spine curves awkwardly, your hands are digging into your calves, you’ve lost all feeling below your waist.
Except for where his cock bullies your swollen, overstimulated cunt.
Throbbing with need each time he pounds down into you, swallowing him greedily despite your babbled pleas for him to maybe ease up or slow down. You have work tomorrow, after all.
“You’re not going, clearly I’m not… fucking you hard enough… if you’re still thinking about that …” Even with his stamina, he’s panting from the exertion. Face flushed and aether-core practically blinding. The sight alone is enough to have you crying out, cumming around his cock for the fifth or maybe sixth time since he’s entered you.
