𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊 ˚₊‧⁺⋆♱
she/her, 21+, and mostly writing fics and drabbles now once in a while!
proship; problematic tropes & content ahead ಄ everything is fiction; minors dni
requests for fic/drabbles/wordvomit are always open but no guarantee what you might get, just like gacha ݁ᛪ༙
𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖓 ˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ ao3 & twitter (inactive)
𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖚 ˚₊‧⁺⋆♱
love & deepspace; sylus, zayne, caleb x reader
jujutsu kaisen; toji x gojo, gojo x megumi
𝖋𝖎𝖈 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖜 ˚₊‧⁺⋆♱
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full tag list and information in the links ᛝ please please read the tags!
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ love & deepspace ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
white-dusted knight ⋮ ao3
sylus x reader | 11.5k words
alternate universe, drug dealer!sylus, fluff & smut, dom!sylus + more
You meet Sylus on a fateful night. He's likely to be bad news, but it doesn’t stop you from buying his weed as an excuse to keep talking to him. Unbeknownst to you though, he has already laid his claim.
repeat after me ⋮ ao3
sylus x reader, caleb x reader | 5.5k words
canon divergent, daddy & gege kink, cucking + more
“I thought you didn’t like Grandma, Caleb. Shouldn’t you be happy?”
“I don’t. But anything is better than him,” he points at the man, who only smirks and drinks the rest of his wine.
Caleb hates Sylus, your new guardian. And Sylus can't help but make things even worse.
hay cosas que se tatúan sin tinta ⋮ ao3
sylus x zayne | 3.1k words
canon divergent, top!sylus x bottom!zayne, fluff & smut, relationship reveal
Zayne had tried to keep things discreet. Sylus, however, is far more shameless.
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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ jujutsu kaisen ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ archive
habits of my heart ⋮ ao3 ⋮ gojo x megumi | 2.5k words
post-canon au, force feeding, trans!megumi + more
a fils à papas ⋮ ao3 ⋮ toji x gojo x megumi | 14k words
no curse au, voyeurism, mommy & daddy kink, trans!gojo + more
Zayne had tried to keep things discreet. Sylus, however, is far more shameless.
3.1k; tagged top!sylus/bottom!zayne, established relationship, relationship reveal, fluff & smut, ft. adorable mc ><
˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ full fic under the cut or on ao3
excerpt; “I'm sorry, who is your ‘beloved’?”
“Oh. What a conniving man. He hasn’t told you about me? No wonder you hadn’t mentioned him to me before. I’d hate to ruin whatever attempt he is making on you, kitten. But if you must know, it’s your primary care physician.”
Even with his position and the duties that came along with it, there would be some afternoons from time to time where Sylus was able to take it easy. To lounge around the expanse of his darkly-decorated home, or do whatever else he pleased. However, she was currently staying with him as a semi-reluctant houseguest while he helped her in a still-shaky alliance to complete her business in the N109 zone. As such, she was gracing him with her presence on a rare free Friday, tapping away on a tablet doing research as he sat with her doing maintenance to some of his choice weapons.
While their first meeting was lukewarm at best (and hostile at worst), they’ve achieved a sort of friendly dynamic over the time that they’ve been acquainted with one another. She reacts positively to his teasing quips these days, and responds with a witty jab or two in return. It's great, and he can say now that he thoroughly enjoys spending time with her. He likes to think that she reciprocates the feeling as well.
So, sitting in silence while she does her thing can be a bit boring. Especially when he’s free to have some fun with her.
He breaks the comfortable silence with a question. “When will you be done with that?” She looks up. “The weather today is less volatile than usual. Perfect for a joyride around the city.”
She scoffs, and goes back to looking at her tablet. “Sorry, this is urgent.”
Sylus wouldn’t admit it, but her response makes him pout. Just a little. “You’re no fun.”
She sighs. “I still have a job to do, Sylus. I’m sorry for not living up to your expectations.”
“None of that. I just thought we could go on a little date,” Sylus says, but his tone turns serious as he switches to a more mature, assuring tone. He won’t have her feeling insecure. “I understand that you take your work seriously, and that’s very admirable. I love quality time with you, sweetie, so I just had to ask.”
She flushes a pretty shade of pink. He continues, “Even if I didn't know you, my beloved often spoke highly of you during the early days of our relationship.”
He stares at her, a soft and gentle expression on his face. Like he didn't just drop a huge, unexpected piece of personal information. Her mouth gapes open like a fish.
“Your—”
“I used to get quite jealous before I knew he was talking about you,” he chuckles. “I definitely understand him better now.”
“I'm sorry, who is your ‘beloved’?”
He pauses. Then, a sinister smile grows on his face as he realizes. “Oh. What a conniving man. He hasn’t told you about me?” He puts the pistol that he was polishing down onto the coffee table in front of him and crosses his arms as he leans back into the black leather couch. “No wonder you hadn’t mentioned him to me before. I’d hate to ruin whatever attempt he is making on you, kitten. But if you must know, it’s your primary care physician.”
She pauses. Another bomb dropped. Her eyes widen as she slowly processes his words.
“Zayne?” That’s incomprehensible.
“What other doctors do you have?”
“Zayne?!” She has to ask again, in case she's not getting it right. “Chief Surgeon at Akso Hospital? Ice Evol? Has a sweet tooth?”
“I feel like you shouldn’t be surprised as you are, sweetie. You and him weren’t in contact for a long while before he was appointed as your doctor.”
“I mean, yeah, but…” She scratches her head, trying to put her confusion into words. “What are the chances that he’s… romantically involved with the leader of Onychinus?”
“High, apparently,” Sylus shrugs, all too nonchalant for her liking. “Though our initial meeting was very circumstantial. I like to say that it was fate, though he may argue otherwise.”
She’s speechless from the shock. Sitting in the arm chair, the dots in her head slowly start to connect. Sylus can literally see the gears in her head turning as she looks back at him when another question forms in her mind.
“Go on,” he says. “Spit it out before I make you.”
“Don’t you think both of you are a little too… flirtatious as people who are supposedly in a relationship with one another?”
Sylus balks at the question, and it turns into a full body laugh. This was far more entertaining than he had anticipated.
“It’s you, kitten,” Sylus rolls his eyes. “If only you’d remember— ” (Remember what, exactly? He can hear her say it so clearly in his head.) “—you’d understand that both Zayne and I would make an exception to our exclusivity with you in particular, no questions asked.”
She gulps.
“This is all very shocking to you, I’m sure,” Sylus smiles, taking in her surprised expression. She shakes her head like she’s saying tell me about it. He takes his phone out of his pocket, “Well, now that you’re clearly done doing research for today, I think it’s time to play.” He taps a button and the sound of a ring dial fills the room.
“No. You’re not calling—”
“Sylus.” The soft baritone of Zayne’s voice on speaker puts a wolfish grin on Sylus’ face. “You know how many surgeries I have scheduled for today. Please tell me it’s important.”
“Indeed, darling,” he purrs into the receiver, and he says the pet name with so much affection that Sylus can see her shiver. “I just happened to hear from a little bird that I’m being hidden like an incompetent wife while my husband tries to get a mistress.”
“...” The silence on the other side of the line is deafening.
“I’m not hiding you from her, Sy,” Zayne finally says, gently, with a kind of sweetness that rarely comes out of him. “Don’t you think it’s a bit scandalous to tell a Hunter, a very high-profile one at that, that my husband is an organized crime leader?”
“What? So you don’t trust me?!” she blurts out. What can she say? She’s a bit irked. “Wait. Husband?!”
“Oh.” Zayne says. “You were listening.”
Sylus sighs, taking control of the conversation once more, “I think the two of us feel quite scorned at the moment.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not my intention.”
“I understand, darling. Regardless, some groveling is in order for you. I know you'll be finished with your scheduled surgeries at 8. I expect to see you here no later than 9:30 so we can have you for the weekend.”
“When did you two meet?”
“Around the time he started his residency.”
“Did he know you were… a mafia boss?”
“I would say that the circumstances of how we met made it impossible for him to not know.”
“Meaning?”
“It was before I was able to refine my Evol. He found me bleeding in an alley in Linkon after a deal went sour.”
“How cliché. He patched you up?”
“He did.”
“... You’re gay?”
“I’m not picky with gender. I’m obviously not exclusively into men,” At that, Sylus rakes his eyes over her body. She clenches her thighs together.
When she doesn’t continue her prodding, he gestures at her plate with the knife in his hand. “Your food is getting cold, kitten. The chef worked hard to make it for you.”
She bites her lip, poking at the hardly-eaten steak. “I’m just really curious about the two of you. You guys are such polar opposites.”
“Opposites attract, do they not?”
“When did you guys get married?”
“Four years ago?” Sylus tilts his head. “But it wasn’t official, legally speaking. We had a vow exchange.”
“That’s… actually really cu—”
She’s cut off by the doors to the dining room opening to reveal Luke and Kieran, with the man of the hour in tow. Zayne looks disheveled, as if the twins had upheaved him straight from the operation room. They probably did.
“Welcome home, dear,” Sylus smiles as Zayne makes his way to his seat. The twins make themselves at home on the other end of the table, wordlessly grabbing dinner from the serving plates. Once they’re all settled, the silver-haired man grabs a bottle of wine to pour into his husband’s glass.
“The twins have better things to do than to act as chauffeurs. I’m perfectly capable of making my way home by myself,” Zayne argues, but picks the glass up to swirl it anyway.
“Yet you haven’t been home in weeks. I had half a mind to come get you myself, but as you can see, I was preoccupied with entertaining our special little guest.”
He takes a sip, directing the conversation to her now. “I was going to tell you after we had gotten a bit more reacquainted with one another.”
“What’s your definition of getting ‘reacquainted’ with her? A hand up her skirt?”
“Sy,” Zayne starts. “Don’t be so vulgar.”
Sylus huffs in his seat.
Watching their conversation unfold, she only had one thought. They bicker like an old married couple. A very attractive old married couple. It makes her smile in amusement. Her heart feels warm from both the wine and the realization of her blooming relationship between the two men. She can admit that she doesn’t oppose its recent developments.
“Stop it, you guys!” she says, grabbing both of their attention. “I’m not done yet with my interrogation. Now that everyone is here, I have about 50 new questions to ask.”
“You sent her to bed,” Zayne states later that night as he stands by the edge of their bed, taking off his shirt.
“Do you think that she’d be ready for this right now?” Sylus asks from his position sprawled on top of the duvet, freshly showered and naked save for a black bathrobe. “She’d collapse on the spot, I think. She’ll remember and learn in due time, dear. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“In this one we do, yes,” Zayne nods, finally undressed to just his underwear. He gets onto the bed and kneels above Sylus, boxing the taller man’s legs in between his and settling onto his lap. Sylus’ hands are on him immediately, thumbs tracing circles around Zayne’s hips.
“Or did you only have interest in doing this if she was around?”
“Sy, drop it. You told her. She’s fine with it. What else do you want me to do?”
Sylus looks away. He’ll proclaim his affection any time, yet he still finds it challenging to be vulnerable. “It’s just been far too long since I’ve touched you, beloved,” he manages to muster, void of the bite in his tone that Zayne expected.
He watches as Zayne’s brows furrow. The man leans down until their foreheads are touching, and Sylus finds small comfort in sharing the same air with him again after a while.
The doctor’s voice drops to a whisper. “Are you upset because you thought I was too ashamed to tell her about us?”
He always sees right through him. “And if I said I was?”
“Then I’d reassure you and tell you that it’s not the case,” Zayne says without missing a beat. “Far from it.”
Zayne’s hands start to travel from either side of Sylus’ neck down to his bare chest, continuing before Sylus could reply. “Like I said on the phone, I wasn’t sure what she’d be like this time around. How she’d take that information without meeting you first. I hadn’t spoken to her since we were children.”
Sylus gasps quietly when a cold thumb brushes over his nipple. “Do you really think I would take a single risk and endanger my husband?”
“Your husband can handle any danger thrown at him. I don’t need your protection.”
“You’re a capable fighter and can heal yourself now,” Zayne agrees. “But you still need your doctor. Don’t you, my love?”
With that, Sylus finally acquiesces. “Always,” he admits.
The kiss they share is passionate right off the bat. It’s always like this when they’re apart from one another for too long. Sylus bites into Zayne’s lower lip, causing him to gasp into his mouth. The younger man ducks even lower to take a swipe at Sylus’ teeth with his tongue, groaning when Sylus’ thumbs hook into the band of his underwear.
Zayne heaves loudly as they separate, a trail of saliva following suit as he pulls the ribbon of Sylus’ bathrobe, taking it apart in one smooth motion, revealing his already-leaking cock, flushed and angry.
A hungry look descends upon the doctor’s face at the sight, and he holds his lover’s eye contact when he says, “I need you too. You know that, right?”
Those pretty ruby reds hold his gaze as its owner pulls Zayne’s underwear down, causing his cock to bounce up and hit his stomach. Sylus allows himself to look down over the expanse of Zayne’s body; he could never get tired at how absolutely breathtaking he is. He doesn’t reply.
Once the garment was finally off and kicked elsewhere. Zayne settles back on top of him and repeats, “Tell me you know, Sy.”
“I know, darling.”
“Good,” he says, as he starts to grind against Sylus’ bare skin with his, setting a slow, torturous pace. “I’d hate it if my husband thought I didn’t need him. He takes such good care of me. Always making sure I want for nothing. Always giving me the space I need to pursue my career. Always there for me when I need to fall back on him. Always fucks me so well. Lets me fuck him so well.”
“Sweetheart,” Sylus chokes.
“What would I do without you?” Zayne sighs. “God, Sy, you’re leaking so much. Getting me so wet.”
“It’s hard not to when you’re speaking to me like this,” Sylus moans, “I want to be good to you all the time.”
“And you are,” he reaches down, to line Sylus’ cock to his hole. “During times like these, I am very grateful for the privacy screen of Luke and Kieran’s car.”
“Y—you prepped yourself on the drive?”
“I haven’t been able to see you for three weeks. I wasn’t going to waste any time.”
“My husband never fails to surprise me,” is the last thing Sylus is able to say before Zayne sinks himself down on the entirety of his cock. It pulls out a moan from both of them.
The pair pauses, giving themselves a moment to get used to the feeling again, though there is only so much that they can actually get reacclimated with. Sylus’ grip on Zayne’s waist is hard enough to cause bruises, and the crescent moons of Zayne’s nails were sure to leave its mark on Sylus’ broad shoulders. The air between them gets denser as Sylus adjusts himself to sit up high enough so that their foreheads are pressed against one another again.
“Darling, I love you.”
They didn’t have rings to show their union or commitment, the jewelry simply being too impractical for both of their lines of profession, but the two felt the weight in their hearts all the same.
“And I you, my love,” Zayne lets out in a shaky voice. Crying out softly when he unintentionally shifts and causes the tip of Sylus’ cock to rub against thatspot. “You’re so big. I don’t think I could ever get used to it.”
With that, Zayne begins to set a languid pace, throwing his head back in pleasure as it really starts to get going. The slick noise of sweaty skin sliding against each other filling the room, whimpers and groans slowly building as Zayne steadily speeds up.
“T-tight,” Sylus gasps. “You’re always so fucking tight.”
“You n-never want to prepare me well enough to get loose.”
“You like the pain.”
“I do,” Zayne nods, and Sylus watches as the man above him loses himself in ecstasy. Knowing that she’s sleeping a few doors down, he briefly thanks whatever entity is out there for the blessings given to him.
He can’t get enough of the expression his husband has in the heat of the moment. Sweat beading down his face, eyes closed. Mouth slightly ajar, and hair mussed. His toned abdomen and the way the muscles move as he fucks himself on Sylus’ cock. It only takes a few minutes before Sylus feels the ferocious need to take control of the situation, using his grip to halt Zayne’s movements.
“Sy, what—“ He uses his leverage to pull himself out of Zayne, all the way to the tip of his cock, only to slam it all the way back in, and the scream that comes out of Zayne makes Sylus’ ears ring. “Fuck! Sylus! Just like that!”
“Shh, shh,” Sylus coos, in between heavy breaths. “Th-the walls are thick, but not that thick. You’ll wake the whole house up, sweetheart.” The warning makes Zayne backhand him square across the face, and Sylus chokes out a broken laugh.
“A-as if I could care about that right now,” Zayne moans, the sound of Sylus’ thighs slapping against Zayne’s ass as he fucks him like his life depends on it dampening the sudden motion. Sylus makes an adjustment, so his cock rubs up against Zayne’s prostate at every thrust.
“Oh god, god— I’m so close,” Zayne cries, taking ahold of his own cock and stroking it in time with Sylus' movements.
Sylus gasps, the pain in his cheek beginning to throb in sync with his heartbeat. “M-me too, darling.”
“You’re gonna fill me up, won’t you, Sy?” Zayne leans in until his breath skirts Sylus’ ear. “Be-because you’re so good to me. Fuck, I’m coming, Sy—“
He lets out a final shout as he coats both of them in his spend, breathing reducing to soft whimpers as his legs begin to shake and give out when Sylus still continues to fuck into him, thrusts becoming more and more erratic and out of rhythm, until he finally lets go.
“I-I’m—” Sylus cuts himself off with a loud groan, giving a final decisive push as the white hot pleasure overcomes him, emptying himself to the last drop into Zayne’s hole.
Zayne falls to Sylus’ side, the two of them staring up at the ornate ceiling of their home as they take a moment to bring themselves back down from the high.
It’s not long, though, until Sylus rolls himself over and on top of Zayne, grabbing the back of one of his knees to prop it up against his shoulder and using his other hand to stroke himself back to hardness.
“You won’t be leaving the bed much this weekend, my beloved,” Sylus warns, and Zayne can only sigh peacefully in anticipation.
She stares at them the next morning over breakfast with a knowing look on her face. Her expression increasingly becomes more horrified as she notices even more bruises and marks across the expanse of both the mens’ skins.
Sylus says what’s on everyone’s mind. “You’re welcome to join us if you like, kitten.”
excerpt; “I’m Sylus,” he introduced in a deep, rich voice. His right eye glimmered a slightly brighter shade of crimson than the left. “I guess your grandmother has finally caved in on letting me watch over you two.”
Caleb hated him instantly. You haven't seen him happy since.
a/n; please please please heed the warnings. everyone is super horrible to each other in this and this is not a great fic for caleb. he suffers 110% . please click out if you feel like this fic isn’t for you.
You had wondered how long it would take for Caleb to finally snap. The answer was four months.
Your older brother has been acting up ever since Josephine essentially abandoned and dropped you two off in front of a grand skyscraper in the middle of the N109 Zone. "For your better protection," were her last words to you before she up and left.
Other than Caleb, Josephine was the closest thing you could even remember to family, so you were inclined to believe her regardless. You were well aware of Caleb's disdain over your previous guardian for reasons that remain unknown, so you originally thought that the change of scenery would be welcomed by him. And you had every right to believe that he'd be thrilled, the initial surprise and uncertainty almost immediately simmering down as he began to get along and have fun with the twins that also stayed at the tower, playing video games with them and messing with the neverending amount of cool stuff that occupied the expanse of Onychinus' headquarters during the first week and a half of your stay.
Until your true caretaker finally came home.
Your warden stood tall, an easily intimidating face sporting a conniving smile, as if things were falling into place for him. “I’m Sylus,” he introduced in a deep, rich voice. His right eye glimmered a slightly brighter shade of crimson than the left. “I guess your grandmother has finally caved in on letting me watch over you two.”
Caleb hated him instantly. You haven't seen him happy since.
In contrast, you had warmed up to him rather quickly. While initially wary thanks to Sylus’ cryptic wordings and the implications he was making behind them, it was hard not to fall under his charming spell. He was always at your beck and call, getting absolutely anything you wanted, and you assumed he would be at Caleb’s as well, if the boy ever gave him a chance to be.
The apex of the boy’s frustrations finally hit tonight as the three of you sat together for a late dinner. Sylus had commented on something, so insignificant that you had immediately forgotten and dismissed it, but he said it in a tone just irritating enough to Caleb that it made him stand up and slam his fists onto the luxurious marble table. “Let me leave. I don’t like being here. I don’t like you.”
“As I’ve said many times,” Sylus tilts his head, swirling a dwindling glass of wine, unbothered. “You can do what you wish. It’s not you whose safety has been compromised. You just happen to be… part of the package.”
“You’re literally a wanted criminal. You’re not scared that I’ll report you the moment I step out of this place?”
“Why would I be scared?” He raises an eyebrow. “I’d bring you back here and lock you up for good before you even had a chance to open your mouth. If she didn’t care about you so much, I would just kill you.”
“Mr. Sylus!” You interrupt with a gasp. “Y-you don’t have to do that. Caleb won’t tell on you. You’ve been a good host and he’ll come around eventually. Won’t you, Caleb?”
“No.”
Sylus ignores Caleb entirely. “Thank you for your confidence, kitten.”
“Enough with that fucking pet name. Pips, you don’t think he’s out of his mind?!”
“For what?!” You exclaim, tired of your brother’s shit behavior. “Taking care of us when Gran couldn’t? Feeding us whatever we want at any time? Getting us anything we ask for even when he has no obligation to?!”
“Oh, I’m sure he has his reasons. Wanna guess what they are?”
You scoff and answer in Sylus’ stead, “He’s helping to keep us safe. I thought you didn’t like Grandma, Caleb. Shouldn’t you be happy?”
“I don’t. But anything is better than him,” he points at the man, who only smirks and drinks the remainder of his wine. “Haven’t you ever wondered about what he and Gran are ‘keeping us safe’ from? For all we know, we’re getting trafficked.”
“There’s a reason you two do not remember your childhood,” Sylus says, succinct.
“And as far as I can tell, that could very well be your fault!” Caleb slams his fist into the nearby wall, the force amplified by his evol leaving a cracked dent in the extravagant paneling.
“Caleb!”
“Be careful of what you break,” Sylus says as he uses his own abilities to mend it back into order, as if nothing had ever happened. “You couldn’t work your whole life to pay me back if you damaged some of the things in this room. If you’re going to be destructive and violent, you know where the boxing gym is.”
Caleb storms out without another word. Whether he heeds Sylus’ advice or not is unclear, leaving you and Sylus in a few awkward moments of silence until his silhouette has disappeared. Sylus looks to you once it does. “You’ll learn in due time, if you don’t remember it on your own. That’s all I can offer you at the moment.”
“That’s okay,” you nod, understanding what Sylus is trying to say. Whatever it is, you knew it was bad. Sometimes you believe that you might even be better off being left in the dark forever. “I’m so sorry about him, Mr. Sylus. I hope he warms up to you one day.”
“Don’t worry, kitten. It doesn’t really matter if he does or not.”
“Still,” you argue, extending an arm so that your small hand rests on his wrist. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us and I don’t want to think I’m taking your kindness for granted.”
At that, Sylus puts on a genuine smile, one that you find very handsome. “I know you don’t. What do you think of tiramisu for dessert?”
You think back to the one and only time Josephine contacted you. It was a month into your stay, and when Luke had handed your brother the phone, Caleb immediately pressed for answers regarding your situation and tried to convince her to take you two back. She only had a simple reply.
“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to… figure it out myself. It’s not easy at my age. I promise, you two are really in the only place you are safe to be in right now. So please, bear it for me until I can take you back.”
When she hung up without waiting for a reply, you both came to the conclusion that you probably wouldn’t see her for a very, very long time.
You sigh as you walk down the hall and up a flight of stairs, full from the decadent tiramisu that Sylus’ chef ended up bringing out.
Shaking your head and wondering what you could say or do to get Caleb out of this self-inflicted funk, your thoughts are interrupted as a strong force pins you against the wall the moment you close the door of your bedroom.
“Caleb—” you hiss. Your body is dwarfed as your brother presses himself up against your back.
“Does he think he can take you away from me, pips?” he all but growls, his hands making their way down your hips and under the fabric of your shorts and panties, pulling both of them down to your knees in one go.
“He’s not trying to—” your defense is interrupted when Caleb momentarily releases his bruising grip on one hand to give your now-bare ass a loud thwack! “Gege!”
“Are you dumb, or just pretending to be?” He manhandles you to the bed, bending you down. When your stomach touches the cool sheets, Caleb lets go to slide his pants down. “Can’t you tell? He wants to fuck you.”
You snap your neck at him, squinting your eyes at the statement. “He does not. He’s like our dad.”
But to be honest, you’re not blind to how Sylus acts towards you. His sweet, alluring demeanor is a sharp contrast to the aloofness he shows Caleb in response to the boy’s incessant rudeness. A bit too…intimate to be purely paternal in a traditional sense, though you sees traits of that as well. All to say that you don't believe what you’re saying either.
Caleb actually pauses at that. “I’m your brother, pips.” He says it slow and dragged out, as if you wouldn’t understand otherwise.
“So what?”
He gestures to his now-free cock. Somehow, it’s still hardening. “We fuck.”
“And?”
“And?! You’re being ignorant on purpose at this point.”
“Caleb, I don’t like when you’re mean to me,” you pout, but the beat of your pulse starts to pick up all the same.
He leans down so that he’s nuzzling into your neck. “Tsk, I’m not trying to be, meimei. It’s just—he clearly has ulterior motives with you and it seems like you don’t mind.”
“Is it really that bad if I don’t?”
“Yes, because you’re supposed to be mine.”
“I—I don’t belong to anyone, Caleb.”
At that, he bullies his cock into you like he’s trying to prove otherwise. It’s not a smooth glide—his large size makes it a painful breach past the rim of your cunt that causes you to cry out in pain.
“Right now, you’re under me,” Caleb grits out through his teeth as he starts fucking you at a punishing pace, one that will surely leave you sore for days afterward. “And not him. Isn’t that funny.”
You don't dignify him with a response. After all, you’d be a liar if you said that you had never thought about it before.
You wondered how Sylus’ large hands, calloused from violence, would feel if they explored the expanse of your body. If the figure under his expensive clothes is just as sinful as his face.
And if you’d ever have a chance to find out.
Your mind is elsewhere when Caleb’s breath starts to stutter as he nears his climax, as his arms tighten to box your head in between them.
“M’close, pips—” he stammers, until his breathing stops entirely and you feel a familiar warmth begin to flood the base of your stomach.
Caleb pulls out with a loud groan, and his spend recklessly seeps into the silk bedsheets. You’ve berated him about it before, not wanting to burden the building’s cleaners with the shameful task of cleaning the stains, but as he usually is about anything related to Onychinus and Sylus, he simply doesn’t care.
“I’m just trying to look out for us, meimei,” Caleb says as he tugs his sweats back up into place. He reaches back down to ruffle your hair. “I’ll come back once he leaves for work, okay?”
You can only take a minute to just lay there in shock, right where he’s left you to go god knows where.
Originally, when your relationship started growing past being just ‘siblings,’ you easily forgave his lack of reciprocity because at least he was trying, and that it wasn’t his fault he was inexperienced. You were each others’ firsts after all. But now, you feel like his negative feelings about your whole situation is teetering it more towards something covered in what could almost be called malice. Neglect. And you bet he doesn’t even realize it.
Your mind betrays Caleb even further when a voice in the back of your head says that Sylus wouldn’t do that.
The older man has been extremely attentive to your every whim these past few months. When you told him that your dream was to work as a hunter, he immediately dove into extensive combat training and lessons pertaining to wanderers and protocores, dedicating hours of his busy days to help you realize it. You only found out later from the twins that Sylus was on the top of their most wanted list with a bounty so high you couldn’t count the zeroes.
So in the grand scheme of things, if all of that effort and then some was just him trying to woo you, you can’t say you feel bad about falling for it.
You pitifully drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom to wash up. Half an hour later and you’ve cleaned yourself to the best of your ability and have laid back down to blankly stare at the ceiling, your sentiments regarding your brother have declined even further.
To make it even worse, for some inexplicable reason, you’re still horny. You give it to Caleb, at least he’s done a good job getting you worked up.
Not bothering to put on a new set of clothes after getting out of the shower, your hand trails down your naked torso until your fingertips start to ghost over your clit. Though your heart’s not in it, mind elsewhere, so even when you add a bit more force to your fingers as they make their small circles, your thoughts distract you enough for it to not really do anything.
You truly could not understand why Caleb hated Sylus so much.
Is it just because Sylus wants to fuck you? Is that all?
It’s not like you and Caleb have ever talked about your relationship. There was an invisible barrier that stopped you two back when you were still staying with Josephine, and now, a very Sylus-shaped one as you reside in the heart of the N109 zone. You’ve never properly discussed what your actions meant and how it would affect your relationships with other people.
Would it really be so wrong?
You sigh for the nth time when that delicious peak has yet to begin bubbling after long minutes of diligent ministrations, thrashing your legs in frustration. You’re just about to give up and call it a night when someone knocks at your door.
You pause. The cleaners have already left for the night, and twins have been out of the base for the past few days on ‘business.’ Caleb probably wouldn’t be back so soon, so there only leaves one option.
You make the decision then and there to open the door in your current state.
With no preamble, you walk over to turn the knob, greeting the tall man. Sylus sported a neutral expression that immediately turns into a devilish smile once he processes what he’s looking at.
“Kitten.”
“Mr. Sylus,” is all you say in reply, leaning your bare hip against the doorframe.
“What a surprise to see you like this,” he murmurs, eyes roving all over your figure.
You stretch your hand out to gently caress the lapel of his suit, a nascence of an invitation. “...Is it?”
He takes a moment to watch as your delicate touch dances across his chest. “No. I suppose not entirely.”
“As I said earlier, I really appreciate what you do for us. Your actions don’t go unnoticed.”
His right eye begins to glow an eerie ruby hue in the dim lighting of the hallway. “I can see what you desire, sweetie. There is a lot of me in there. It seems that I’ve had a false impression of you and your brother’s relationship.”
You takes a slow exhale. Of course, he knew about you and Caleb.
No matter.
“You weren’t wrong.”
“I see,” Sylus doesn’t care either, then.
“So, are you going to do anything about it? What brings you here?”
“It was of no importance,” he dismisses, leaning down until his face is directly in front of you. You scent a hint of the wine he drank earlier. “What exactly do you want me to do to you?”
You take a moment to pretend to think about it, wanting to bask in your newfound closeness, a new boundary crossed. Wondering how exactly you should verbalize the strange predicament you’ve landed yourself in and what you wished out of it.
“I’ve been imagining…” you settle on. “What it would be like if you touched me.”
He gives you an immediate answer by wrapping a large arm around your waist. Your heart skips. “Oh? And do you think about that often?” He teases.
There’s no backing down now. You tilt your head down, bat your eyes back up at him through your eyelashes, playing into what you think he’s been trying to put down since he’s met you. “Yes, daddy.”
The smile on his face only grew bigger. Sinister. Like the transition to whatever this is was eventual regardless of how long it took. The pet name is even sweeter coming off your tongue than he expected.
In this way, you find that he can be quite predictable.
Only after you step into your room and the door is shut once more does he continue. “My, what would your brother think?”
“I’m a bit upset with him right now.” you explain, Sylus pursues you as you walk backwards until you’re sat on the bed.
You spread your legs. “He left me like this,” the obscene sight of the leftover cum that you couldn’t clean out of your pussy leaks right on top of the stain that was made earlier makes Sylus’ breath hitch. “And didn’t make me finish.”
You follow as Sylus lowers himself till his tie dangles over your throat. Eyes not leaving your naked form, he plants his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Mmm, I suppose it’s a mixture of guilt and inexperience that Caleb isn’t making you cum. That’s okay,” he hums. “Daddy can make you feel so much better. I've had plenty of practice. Just for you. Would you like that?”
You gulp, giving the man a small nod. With Sylus moving up to kneel on the bed, his hands advance to your body, one at the base of your ankle, slowly trailing it up your leg until it hooks onto the back of your knee and pushes down.
It nearly reaches your ear, and the stretch makes you whine out in surprise. His other hand finally finding its way to your cunt, plush and pulsing. He lightly drags his nails over your swollen nub, the sensation causing you to writhe.
“Sylus—”
“Shhh,” he coos softly. “Look at you. It’s so cute.”
You whimper as he starts out with slow circles. Belatedly, it sinks in as his large shadow bears over you that you’re now at the mercy of the most dangerous man on the planet.
That thought makes a shiver run down your spine in anticipation of what he might do with you. You try to clench your thighs together, your arousal leaking down. A perfect picture of sin.
Sylus admires it openly. “You’re so wet, kitten. Do you want me inside?”
“Yes, please—” you choke on your words. “Anything. Anything you want.”
“A dangerous thing to say to a greedy man,” he chuckles. “And if what I want is to watch you fall apart? Come undone from my touch?”
“Anything.”
“Then it’s good that when it comes to you,” he muses, two long, slender digits finally pushing in till the knuckle, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give.”
You cry out at the feeling, the hunger that has been brewing for the last hour being drip-fed as they start to work their way in and out of you at a torturous pace, the depth drawing out the final remnants of Caleb’s cum in a vile froth.
“M-more,” you plead, hands coming up to grip the strong, veined arm holding your calf, scared for what you’re asking for, but asking all the same.
He presses down on your clit, and the delicious texture of his thumb makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. You don't know if it’s because you’ve been so high-strung or if Sylus just knows what he’s doing, but the way you feel like your body is on fire is something you’ve never felt before.
Your nails dent his skin with crescent moons, mesmerizing you as the red wisps of his evol dismiss the marks as you continue to make them. The new stimulation is joined by the fingers inside your starting to curl up until its pads graze the spot that instantly has you curling up and crying out, tightening and squirming in a way that only makes Sylus want to push you even further.
He entertains the idea. “Have you ever made a mess?”
Under the haze of arousal and your own inexperience, you don't quite comprehend what he’s asking, so you reply with a disjointed “N-no!” when the scarily fast approach of your climax is accompanied a strange feeling coiling in your gut, a feeling too similar to—
“I think you might right now, sweetie.”
And he’s proven correct when the levee finally breaks and your body is set alight, back arching off of the sheets as you cum shouting his name. Cunt gushing as Sylus continues to work you on his fingers until your release hits and soaks his trousers through.
“That’s it,” he groans as your screams wind down to pathetic little sobs that have his cock twitching in its confines. “So good. So good for me, kitten, like you always were.”
His praise continues as you take a moment to attempt to catch your breath, however in the midst of your efforts, Sylus’ attention turns elsewhere. You don't even notice the figure at your now-open door until the man above you addresses it. "How nice of you to finally join us."
You don't need to look to know who it is. “Gege!”
The younger boy’s eyes widen as he makes sense of the scene before him.
Drenched sheets, tangled hair, and the man he despises the most hovering over his precious, precious baby sister.
His evol reacts before his voice does, a heavy weight blanketing you before it fades just as fast when Sylus intervenes with his own abilities. His hand, still wet with your slick, gestures towards his direction until Caleb’s body is wrapped in dark tendrils. Perhaps too young and not practiced enough for his evol to be a formidable force in the face of the older man’s refined bonds and chains, he struggles to release himself from the immense restraints. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing with her?”
“Something that it seems you can’t achieve,” you wince at the sting of Sylus’ answer. Turning your head away to avoid what must be a heartbreaking expression.
“Is this because of earlier?” Caleb’s rage now tinged with a hint of remorse. “You’re letting him fuck you just because I left for a bit to cool down?”
“I haven’t fucked her yet,” Sylus continues to speak for you. “In fact, I was hoping you’d come back to watch.”
“Excuse me?!”
His evol wrestles Caleb as the younger boy thrashes violently, spewing curses as he’s forced to kneel at the foot of the bed, hands bound behind his back. A mere few feet from where you are still turned away from him.
While Caleb persists in his struggle, Sylus undoes his belt.
“I’ve tried my best to be accommodating to both of you, even though I promised only to take care of her,” Sylus explains as he continues to undress himself, throwing article after article of clothing as they go. “Why? Because she loves you and wants you around. Yet you fight me at every turn. I can tolerate that.”
His cock slips free, and you let out an involuntary wail at its intimidating size. Leaking as he takes a hold of it and situates it over your dripping slit. “But what I can’t tolerate is you using her, and not allowing her to use you in return.”
“That’s between me and her. You have no right to be involved.”
“Maybe I don’t, but she asked me to be. Didn’t you, kitten?” A delicate hand caresses your cheek. “Purred so sweetly for me.”
Only then do you finally look at your brother.
He’s an absolute mess. Heaving. Eyes watery. Torn clothes, battered with raw scratches and flushed an angry red. His purple eyes conveying flashes of contempt, rage, guilt, and more that you couldn’t fully describe.
But most humiliatingly, the growing tent in his sweatpants.
Perhaps it was the sight of you covered in a layer of glistening sweat, the post-orgasm bliss on your face that makes you look like you’re glowing. It is a much more dignifying answer to any other. Regardless, you like the look on him.
Sylus taps his cock against your cunt, your wetness causing soft plaplaplapsounds akin to a ticking clock in the heat of the tension, waiting for you to break the silence.
You glance back at Sylus. A dark haze over his eyes, the absolute fervor across his sharp features makes the whole situation all the more alluring, a tempting invitation to escalate even though the potential consequences are beginning to scare you.
“I did ask for it, daddy.”
“There you go,” he groans in approval. “That wasn’t so hard. You deserve a reward for your candor.”
“This is insane. Tell him to let me go, meimei, we can talk this out,” Caleb pleads to you.
“If she tells me to, I will,” Sylus shrugs as he looks down at you, tilting his head as his gaze lands back on his cock, idly resting in between your folds. “Do you want me to let him go, sweetie?”
You’re trembling. Yet, you stay damningly silent.
“Good girl.”
You make a pretty noise when Sylus’ hand feels its way up to your tits, a pathetic mewl when he tugs on a sharp peak. “Now remind us. Who's touching you now?"
“Daddy is touching me,” you reply without hesitation.
“Who is learning from him tonight?”
“Gege.”
“And where do you want me to put my cock?”
“Inside.”
The pity really starts to take shape in your heart when your little performance makes Caleb whimper. But Sylus, unapologetic, travels his hand further up until he grabs your jaw, turning it back to face him.
"Don’t feel guilty, kitten. Daddy's gonna show him how it's done, hm? Aren’t I so nice.”
He sinks the full length of his cock into you in one long thrust.
You and Caleb cry out at the same time, for different reasons. Not wanting to ruin the moment he’s been waiting so long for, Sylus expands his evol to cover the younger boy’s mouth, to shut him up even if only temporarily.
The initial stretch is painful, but smooth thanks to his work just minutes earlier. Sylus doesn’t wait for you to process before he starts up a consistent rhythm through your sobs. Not too fast nor slow. The swollen head of his cock languidly bumps into the wall of your cervix, and with every deep carve the balance leans more towards pleasure than pain.
“Taking me so well, pretty girl,” Sylus exhales, like he’s finally reached something that he’s been chasing for eons. “Just like I knew you would.”
“Ngghh, Sylus—”
“It’s been too long since I’ve been in here,” he says it into your ear like it’s a secret, a statement only meant for you and not the boy across the bed, whose muffled cries in protest only serve to work Sylus up even more.
It’s all just so much. You exert yourself trying to process the slew of emotions.
You feel horrible making Caleb watch this.
You feel amazing punishing him for his mistakes.
You feel reprehensible using Sylus to make your point.
But most overwhelmingly, thanks to your white-haired keeper, you feel unadulterated ecstasy.
“Daddy—”
“Hm?”
“L-let him speak.”
The tendril over his mouth dissipates almost instantly. “Pips!” Caleb screams. “This is so—you d-don’t have to go this far. Why did you go so far?”
Even if you weren't sprawled out right now, a tranquil haze fogging up your brain, you didn’t think you’d have an answer. But the lack of regret even now in the face of Caleb’s torment is telling.
“Sorry,” you cry out in intermittent squeaks. “Sorry, gege, I’m sorry, feel so—nggggghhhhh—so full, so good, please—”
His objections begin to be drowned out as Sylus picks up his pace, one large hand firmly wrapping around the base of your neck, squeezing hard enough that the isolation of your senses causes your eyes to roll back, bringing your babbling to an abrupt end. His other hand presses against your lower tummy and both of you gasp. It’s so, so warm to the point where it’s almost feverish.
“Hah, kitten, you’re getting so tight. Are you enjoying showing your brother how I make you feel?”
“Sick fuck,” Caleb sobs. “Taking advantage of her like this.”
“I only take what she wants to give me. She can do whatever she wants,” Sylus pants, eyes not leaving your smaller form. Your eyes are now scrunched shut, biting your lip hard enough to break skin. It doesn’t seem like you’re comprehending the conversation at all. “And if that has to be you, then the least I can do for her is give her a good frame of reference. How good it can truly get, so she doesn’t open her legs for her gege unless he’s earned it.”
The hand on your throat slides to cup your cheek. Tilting it gently to the side so that you’re facing Caleb.
“Open your eyes, sweetie. Look at your brother.”
When you obey, Caleb’s eyes bore into yours. The tears, snot, flowing freely down his face now like he can’t hold them back anymore.
“S’okay, gege,” you immediately try to placate. “Don’t feel bad, y-you can have me later too—a-after Daddy’s done—you can share—”
“Do you think he’s at least picking up a thing or two?” Sylus’ thumb works back onto your clit. Relentless circles that build a pleasure so blinding that you don't respond. “I’ll give him the privilege of showing him what it looks like when you come apart.”
As if on command, you see stars in your eyes once more as your climax violently washes over you. You make another mess as Sylus continues to fuck you through your orgasm, showing no signs of slowing down even as an onslaught of hard shivers begin to wrack your body in overstimulation, all the while holding eye contact with Caleb still.
And upon seeing the sight of you, Caleb, disparagingly, cums as well.
Sylus slows to a stop when he realizes, allowing for you to finally catch a breath. His laughter at Caleb’s predicament drowns out your deep heaving as he adjusts his bruising grip to the small of your waist, maneuvering you until you’re on your knees and your head is mere inches away from the now-wet spot of your brother’s pants.
“You—’leb, you—” you start, when Caleb’s struggle to escape picks up again as dark coils work his spent cock out of his pants.
“No, fuck—” he sobs, far too soon to appreciate the bone Sylus has thrown at him when the older man pummels forward back into your pussy, making you shout, and pushing you far enough so that your mouth makes contact with Caleb’s length, glossed over in his shame, and instinctively wrap your lips around it.
You don't have to move much when Sylus’s unforgiving thrusts make it so that your brother’s still softening length works in and out of your throat. You mewl as you try to clean him up with kitten licks.
The last part of your mind that is still there finds so much joy in the conflicted expression of Caleb’s face. How you must look, a blissed-out vision sucking his cock, paired with the inconceivable source of your pleasure, a hulking mass looming over like a dark cloud fucking into you still with a tempo that grows more and more erratic.
The way your pussy tightens at that thought brings Sylus to the edge. “Close, sweetie—”
“Fuck, don’t do it,” Caleb begs. “Don’t—”
You pull yourself off of Caleb, finally ending his punishment when you realize that he’s got nothing left to give anymore, and reward your accomplice. You reach behind you to grab fluffy white strands and pull.
“Inside, daddy.”
Sylus cums with a deep growl, white hot seed shooting directly into your inviting cunt, fighting for space as the mixture of all your releases leak out and spills onto the sheets below you.
dead to the world, you’re not privy to the conversation that comes after it all. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this…family affair,” Sylus muses as you snore softly in his arms. You lay between Sylus’ legs with your head resting on his lap as he sits up against the pillows, nails languidly combing through your hair. “You’ll learn to share her, as I’m afraid she wouldn’t like to choose between us now. I’m anticipating your cooperation on this.”
Caleb’s still sat exactly where he came, clenching his jaw. The younger boy hates to admit that Sylus is right. He must concede.
He nods his head slowly in acquiescence.
“Good boy. When she wakes up, I’d like you to show me what you’ve learnt,” Sylus looks back to your sleeping form. “If you haven’t taken anything in, however, I’m more than happy to help you to revise by re-demonstrating.”
At that, Caleb says nothing and finally retreats out of your room, every footstep a further acknowledgement that the days of his once-exclusive hold on you are behind him.
Sylus smiles regardless, knowing that he’ll be back come morning.
sylus x reader ʚɞ You meet Sylus on a fateful night. He's likely to be bad news, but it doesn’t stop you from buying his weed as an excuse to keep talking to him. Unbeknownst to you though, he has already laid his claim.
11.5k; tagged alternate universe - drug dealer!sylus, dom!sylus, daddy kink, degradation kink, undernegotiated kink, recreational drug use, fluff & smut
˚₊‧⁺⋆♱ full fic under the cut or on ao3
excerpt; The man was high up, peering over a balcony rail that overlooked the whole dance floor, lazily swirling a glass in one hand. Criminally handsome, you think, unearthly irises an absolutely lethal package when accompanied by his silver-white hair and hooked nose.
You hold your drink up above the crowd, as if to say cheers to the devil himself.
He raises his in return before he downs it in one go and cocks his head in invitation.
When you told your roommate Tara that you landed a decent job offer, her first order of business was to celebrate, decidedly by taking you to the swankiest club in the city because her best friend apparently deserved a front-row view to Aether’s notoriously expensive bottle service for her hard work. It took not even half an hour into the night for her to leave you to fend for yourself against the loud music and dim lights the second someone fed her words that were prettier than average
Not unfamiliar with situations like this, though, you lose yourself into the thump of the bass, counting down fifteen minutes. Just enough to know whether she was on a successful conquest or not, and whether you should expect her to return to your side before you were in the clear to venture around by yourself.
After all, this highbrow scene is mostly foreign to you, more used to the no-frills experience that the nightclub across from your old university campus had to offer. This was something you thought you’d only fully indulge in once you were a bit farther into your career and your pockets were more heavily-lined.
It wasn't long after your eyes started to roam that they landed on unnatural crimson. The man was high up, peering over a balcony rail that overlooked the whole dance floor, lazily swirling a glass in one hand. Criminally handsome, you think, unearthly irises an absolutely lethal package when accompanied by his silver-white hair and hooked nose.
You hold your drink up above the crowd, as if to say cheers to the devil himself.
He raises his in return before he downs it in one go and cocks his head in invitation.
Despite the time frame you promised yourself to linger around the same area in case Tara returned, you weren’t going to waste an opportunity to see what being at Aether’s VVVIP table is like, so you push through to head up the glass staircase.
His eyes following you the whole way through, you hold his gaze as if you were in a trance. There’s something in you that immediately begs to close the gap, so you do. And once you get there, you find him alone at the large booth, save for a pair of identical twins who were passing a joint between each other on the sprawling couch. Even among the heady scents of bodies and sweat, your nose had perked up at the herbal musk. You hadn’t expected that you might be able to smoke a bit tonight.
A meager three people for a table that probably costs double of an average salaryman’s monthly wage to book for the night. You wonder just who you’ve surrendered yourself to.
The man now leaned against the balcony to face you and held out his hand, and you took it without thought, savoring its calloused texture until you were close enough that he had to crane his neck down to look you in the eye.
Now, this is a man who must be favored by fate. He’s even more good-looking up close. Sharp eyes take in your appearance like he’s appraising a prized jewel.
“There’s much less people than I expected up here,” you comment to make conversation.
“Does that disappoint you?” he asked in a deep, alluring voice. “I tend to keep it tight-knit. And I had thought tonight wouldn’t be anything special, but it seems like I’ve been mistaken.”
A smooth talker at that too, he hums as he runs his thumb across your knuckles. You already know, with older men like him—he is going to be the death of you.
“Not at all, it’s a breath of fresh air.”
“As fresh as it can get when those two are around, I suppose,” he looks over to his two companions, who regard you with great curiosity, like you’re something novel. The man plucks your drink to put it away before he grabs a champagne bottle from a nearby ice bucket and refills his own flute, offering it to you.
"Since when did you share like that?" one of the twins interjected, but the man paid them no mind.
You give him a small smile as you take the glass and give it a sip. Very expensive, you must surmise. You’ve never tasted such a crisp bubbly. "Thank you, this is really nice."
You introduce yourself as you hand it back to him. He throws back the remainder of the glass in one go.
"A beautiful name," he compliments once he’s done. "I'm Sylus. What brings you here all by yourself?"
"Not by myself," you correct. You peer down to the crowd to see if you can spot Tara, and after a few seconds your eyes focus on her chocolate brown hair in the corner of the room as she eats someone's face out. Good for her. "But my friend found her company for the night."
"Mmm, and you haven't?"
You give him a confident look. “Haven’t I?”
Sylus chuckles. “Come sit with me,” he says as he leads you to the couch with a hand on the small of your back. Your ears redden at the casual intimacy of the action.
At the snap of his fingers, a club staff member appears and gives you a new glass before disappearing just as fast as he came. Your head swims thinking of what would justify the seemingly insane amount of influence Sylus must have around these parts.
CEO, nepo baby, or a secret third thing? He’s dressed like any and all of the above—a luxurious white satin shirt that has too many of the top buttons undone tucked into perfectly ironed trousers, a necklace with a gleaming centerpiece pendant resting above prominent collarbones.
“Wanna hit?” one of the twins interrupts your thoughts, offering the joint between his fingers.
“Yes please.” You nod as you take it and give it a deep inhale, causing you to cough immediately. Sylus hands you a glass of water seemingly from thin air. Oh, but this is the good stuff. Though with everything that you’ve picked up on in the last few minutes, you suppose this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.
“Who do you get it from, if I can ask? This is nice.”
The other twin guffaws at the question, but answers earnestly when his companions don’t protest. “It’s organically homegrown, of course! It’s our… family business!”
That partially explains the riches. Sylus shakes his head in mock exasperation as he takes the joint from you to hand back to them on your behalf. “Do you like smoking, kitten?”
The nickname, along with a large thumb now drawing circles on your side, gives you a full-body shiver. You hope it wasn’t obvious enough for them to notice. This man is a blaring warning siren, and you’re only more tempted to learn more about what’s behind the handsome face.
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “From time to time. It’s a good stress reliever.”
"I have more of where that came from, if you're interested." Ah, of course he does.
"To be honest, I'm not sure if I can afford you. Do you do discounts?” you’re only half-joking as you giggle that out.
"I can make an exception, sure," he smirks, leaning closer until you can smell the smoky rose of his deep cologne. “I’m also willing to accept payments in the form of in-kinds.”
“Such as?”
His other hand makes a grab at your exposed thigh. “There’s a few things I have in mind.”
And just when you think things are about to escalate to something more, another staff member comes up to Sylus and whispers something in his ear.
Whatever he says, it makes Sylus tsk and rubs at his temple. "Unfortunately, it seems like I have some urgent matters to attend to.” He gives the twins a look, and they sigh as they stand up, dusting off their pants. You pout, thinking that the opportunity to have the hottest one-night-stand you’d ever tell anyone about has just slipped through your fingers. But then he hands you his phone with a new contact tab open.
Your eyebrows turn up at the surprise. So maybe it won’t be the only time you’ll ever see him? But you suppress the hopeful thoughts of going any further than this with him by reminding yourself that he’s probably just getting your information because you’re a potential customer for his… goods. You type your details in anyway.
A gentleman, it seems, as he offers his hand once more to help you stand up, and he keeps your fingers intertwined with one another all the way until he's led you down the stairs back to the dance floor.
“If you’re not waiting for your friend, the club’s chauffeur can drive you home. Just tell him that I said so,” Sylus says as a last remark. “I hope I can see you again soon, sweetie.”
He traces your chin with a long finger as he walks away. You’re unsure of what just happened.
The night is still incredibly young, and Aether is still rife with more people you can talk to and bodies to dance on. But after who you’ve just met, you feel like doing so would be a bad idea, like it would immediately get back to him if you decided to pursue someone else tonight in this club. You think it’s crazy that you’re already pledging silent loyalty to a man that you were only able to chat with for a few minutes, but there’s something in you that feels inexplicably drawn to his mystery.
You find Tara’s soft face amongst the crowd once more, and she makes a thumbs up at you in question, and you reply with one of your own. She smiles, signaling an OK as her suitor for the night ushers her away from your view.
You step outside into a nice cool breeze, walking to a limousine with the club’s logo printed on its door.
“Uh, Sylus said you could drive me home?” you ask the man through the open window.
The chauffeur’s eyes widen at the name and scrambles to unlock the car. “Oh yes, please come in, madame. Let me know your address.”
After he drops you off a street away from your building, you’re in bed by midnight like Cinderella, only slightly buzzed after being in the most expensive club in Linkon City for less than an hour. Yet no part of you feels like your night was cut short at all.
You’re greeted by a text from an unknown number when you wake up the next morning and you save it without thinking. Sylus continues to surprise you by reaching out faster than you had anticipated. That he even reached out at all.
Sylus Got home safe sweetie?
These pet names were going to be the death of you.
Me yes, thank you so much for the ride! let me know how much I owe you for that and… maybe 2 grams? hybrid?
Sylus Owe me?
Sylus Thats funny.
Sylus Do you want it today? You can get it this afternoon.
Me oh!! sure?
Me I tried transferring you a hundred for now but it bounced back, is your number not connected to your digital wallet?
Sylus It isnt.
Sylus Maybe Im a bit old fashioned but we can do cash on delivery.
You tell Tara about him over breakfast after she hobbles in from her own room—she must have come back sometime while you were still asleep—still drowsy from the night she must have had. And after getting a better look at her, she’s got the marks to match too.
“I don’t know if he’d be just in it for the money though,” she argues in support of the doubts you have regarding his intentions. “From what you described, I think he’s super into you! He had to at least be attracted to you, otherwise he wouldn’t call you over to his table like that.”
You shrug as you heat up a cup of water. “I hope you’re right. I’ve never met someone like him before.”
Later, you’re at the agreed location five minutes before you’re supposed to meet Sylus when a sleek, dark car pulls up to you. When the window rolls down you’re slightly disappointed to see that it’s the twins from the club and not the man himself.
“Boss wants to say sorry for not giving this to you in person. He’s still handling that thing from last night,” the twin in the passenger seat says as he hands you an extravagantly ornate box shaped like a heart, wrapped in a lush red satin bow.
Now this is nuts.
“The thing from last night…” you echo, mostly yourself. But you snap out of it. You wedge the box unceremoniously between your legs so your hands are freed up to pull several bills out from your wallet. “Look, he didn’t tell me how much it was, is this enough?”
You’re praying it isn’t anything more than that, though you know that it’s likely priced at a premium. You haven’t even started at your job, you’re not rolling in cash like Sylus most definitely is. That thought sends you on a small spiral when you process that you're essentially buying drugs just for a chance to see a guy you only met briefly the night before.
But to be fair, he’s a very attractive guy.
“Um,” the twin looks at the money like it’s an object completely foreign to him. “Sorry, we don’t have change. But have a good day, Miss!”
They drive away before you have a chance to say anything else.
You almost pass out once you’re back at your apartment and unwrap the box.
“What the fuck?! How much was this?!” Tara, who’s next to you, screeches when she peers over to see the box full of that dusty green. You ignore her, immediately pulling out your phone to text him again.
Me this is like?!? not 2 grams ?!?
Sylus answers in record time, like he was waiting to hear from you after you open his little… surprise.
Sylus Its 21, if youre curious.
Sylus A first timer gift, for customer retention of course.
Me …
Me I don’t even smoke that much
Me this will take me ages to finish!
Sylus Cant have that. otherwise Id have to create another excuse to see you sooner.
Sylus Share it with your friends. or better yet
Sylus Share it with me?
You've never heard of a dealer inviting someone to indulge in their own products together, but it's not like you care whether Sylus follows a nonexistent etiquette or not. You weren’t in it to actually buy weed from him, if you can even say you’ve bought it. It's been two weeks since he gave you that box and he hasn't let you pay a cent.
Not wanting to mess up during the first few days of your new job, you didn’t risk touching it at all, and plans to meet up with Sylus have yet to come to fruition. You’ve learnt through texting him recently that he's quite the busy man, and you were lucky enough to catch him at Aether during a very rare free moment of his time—and that still ended up getting interrupted anyway.
No matter, though, you catch yourself thinking as you finally light a thin roll when you arrive home on a Friday night after work to welcome the weekend. Your confidence in Sylus being interested in you has continued to build up as he initiated messages and replied to you diligently about things that aren’t related to his… business.
Sylus How is work treating you?
Me honestly? I’m struggling a lot! I’m still getting used to the corporate life but I can already tell it’s not for me…
Sylus Poor kitten. Would you let me do something about it?
Me ? like what?
What does he mean by that, you wonder.
You awkwardly stare at the open chat app for a while until it’s been long enough without a reply from Sylus to tell you that he’s no longer on his phone. You curl up into the couch and turn your attention to absentmindedly watch some TV.
You land on the local news channel, watching live coverage on a special forces team working through a warehouse wreckage caused by some sort of gang dispute. The reporter’s voice drones in your head as you take a deep drag of the joint. “Authorities believe that the conflict took place between the Onychinus syndicate and a rival organization yet to be identified. Five bodies have been recovered so far as personnel search the debris, along with a staggering three metric tons of cocaine—”
The loud shrill of your phone scares you slightly, but you pick up instantly once you see who's calling.
“Hey!”
“Hello, kitten,” Sylus sounds out of breath on the other line. “Are you free to talk right now?”
“I am, but are you sure that you are? You sound like you've just run a marathon.”
Breathless rich laughter rings through the receiver. “I've been busy wrapping up a few matters that have remained persistent. But that’s nearly over with now, so I’m wondering if you're free… Sunday, perhaps? To come to mine?”
You fight against the urge to strand right up and do a victory lap around your living room, and you hope that he can't hear the sound of you kicking your feet excitedly against the couch cushion. “About time! Right when I thought that you were coming up with excuses to avoid me,” you say, daring to make such a joke.
“That wouldn’t make sense when I want to do the exact opposite,” Sylus says in honesty. “I apologize. I just wanted to hear your voice, but I have to go now. I’ll see you then.”
He hangs up before you have a chance to reply, but you’re already bolting to Tara to tell her the good news.
“Wow. To that and this,” she says as she exhales a large cloud of smoke accompanied by some hard coughs. A big gulp of water puts her back on track. “You were right. This is good. And you still haven’t paid him at all? You need to get his prices because there’s no way I’m not gonna tell the others about how good this stuff is. They’ll be clawing at his door.”
“Honestly, I’m half scared that he’ll demand thousands the moment I step in his place. Then what am I gonna do, Tara?”
“Well. That’s when you start doing what he wants you to come over for. Duh.”
“Tara!”
Saturday sets in, and the pleasant, subtle high you fell asleep in has rolled over into a bright morning, starting your day off with an easy smile.
The grin persists as you get ready for brunch. The anticipation of both your upcoming plans has you skipping down to the driveway of your apartment building, where your other best friend is already waiting pretty for you in his sleek sports car. He revs the engine when he sees you, loud enough that an elderly passerby looks at him in disdain.
Your eyes rolled at the obnoxious gesture, but you couldn’t rag on Rafayel too hard; for you were a direct beneficiary of his absurd wealth.
You kiss his cheek as you get into the passenger seat, and an easy conversation builds as he drives you to whatever swanky eatery he’s chosen for this food trip.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to make your opening last week,” you start as you mess with his car stereo. “I swear I’m not trying to avoid going to your shows. My schedule has just been so horrible to me. I’ve been working overtime almost every day at my new job to get up to speed.”
“I’m sorry too,” Rafayel shakes his head. “My poor girl is subjecting herself to a 9 to 5 that doesn’t even hit average wage.”
“9 to 9, if we’re being really honest. It’s something, though, and decent jobs are hard to come by these days. Not everyone is an artistic genius.”
“True,” he tilts his head, eyes staying steady on the road. “But you’re not just anyone either, cutie. You could be my bodyguard or my secretary and I’d pay you double, triple then and there.”
You shake your head dismissively, a small smile forming at the throwaway compliment. “And have to be by your side 24/7? I don’t know if I could take that.”
“Hey!”
Only later when the two of you have nestled into the cozy booth of the restaurant does your conversation pick up again.
“But the show last week,” Rafayel rolls his eyes. “Same old, same old. Sold out as usual. However Thomas did catch a buyer group snorting in the back room like an hour before the gallery was supposed to close.”
“No. People actually do that?”
“They just get so bored, I suppose,” he snorts. “Obviously we wouldn’t make a big fuss out of it, it’s par for the course for art snobs. But they were so shameless about it. Even told us who they got it from. Graymist is no Onychinus, but it’s still a pretty penny for some blow.”
“Onychinus? I saw them on the news last night.”
“That shootout? Oh yeah, that’s standard for them. They’re guns blazing the second a rival syndicate oversteps, or so I hear. You know, not to be super shady, but they buy some of my work.”
“Really?” You rest your head in your palms as you lean forward in interest.
“Yep, they send the same guy every time. I don’t really remember his name. Something like Cyrus? But from the glances I’ve seen of him, he’s got a unique look, like early-thirties with white hair.”
Your stomach drops at that very second.
“Oh. Funny you say that,” you say cautiously, deciding to pick your next words very carefully. “I met a guy recently who fits that description to a T.”
It’s like you can see the dots connecting in Rafayel’s head, he leans closer to get into your space.
“Yeah? Did he try selling you anything?” He asks, voice dropped into a theatric whisper.
“Not really. He let me take a hit of his joint.”
“Hm. I guess he didn’t figure you, uh, fit Onychinus’ usual…clientele.”
“Which are?”
“Billionaires, corrupt politicians, the like. That’s why they’re so rich. Your Cyrus guy—he always makes appointments with Thomas for private viewings.”
Your eyebrows raise in intrigue, nodding to invite him to continue.
“Then, when he buys stuff, he never tries to negotiate, writes checks on the spot, and the piece is instantly out of the gallery when the show period ends. Not to sound jaded but, a customer as good as that in the art world is sketchy as hell. Also, it’s how casual he apparently is with talking about the… business he’s associated with. It blows Thomas’ mind. Like he has nothing to lose. Or he has the confidence that it won’t ever happen.”
“So you’re saying that this guy I’ve been painfully into might be working for the biggest drug cartel in the city.” Truthfully, you’re struck just a bit dumb.
Rafayel snaps his fingers. “More like the biggest drug cartel in the whole country! And I knew he was your type too.”
“Shut up.”
“Should I have introduced you?” He pretends to roll his eyes in derision. “But seriously. You better watch out, cutie. Take care of yourself and don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
You’re still in a daze even when Rafayel has dropped you off back to your place, and you don’t believe the moderate day drinking you’ve done has anything to do with it.
Is it really smart to meet him now, after what you’ve learnt?
Or more importantly, do you even care?
To be honest, the information that Rafayel had revealed to you was not needed for you to reach the conclusion that Sylus is not exactly the safest nor sanest guy to pursue seriously.
But there’s something about him that’s just so tempting. Alluring. You can’t help it. It’s in his cadence, the way he talks; charisma that only accompanies extreme self-confidence and is lacking in those who play it up in overcompensation.
And how clear he has been with how much he wants you.
Speak of the devil, as if he knows you’re thinking of him, you’re getting cozy in bed when your phone dings with a notification.
Sylus Im looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, sweetie.
You squint at your phone when Sylus follows up with a message telling you that the twins—who you now know as Luke and Kieran—would pick you up and drive you to his place.
God, this is such an unwise decision. Definitely quite high up the “bad choices you’ve made” list. There’s a part of you amidst all his hospitality that still thinks he has malicious intentions. But at the same time, what he or Onychinus could even gain out of fucking you over, you couldn’t tell. You, who’s barely three months out of university with absolutely no real wealth to your name.
In the end, your train of thought lands on the natural answer of simply on giving Sylus the benefit of doubt.
Me me tooooo!
Me see you :*
“Again, Boss wishes he got to pick you up himself, but he’s been crazy busy recently. He’s been overworking himself so that he could free up some time to spend with you.” Kieran says as he looks back at you from the passenger seat. This time, the twins have got black surgical masks covering the lower half of their faces.
You blush at the idea of Sylus actively trying to see you. But it also opens up even more questions, like exactly what kind of work that even entails.
You’re also curious on how secretive these boys would get if they’re prodded for answers. You belatedly realize that they’re probably not much older than you, if at all.
“So, what does Sylus actually do for work? Is it just… y’know?” Dealing drugs? Curating and buying artwork for a drug ring leader? Being the right-hand man to an old fuck about to kick the bucket that has warehouses full of blood money?
“You know, guys like Boss,” Luke starts. “They do too many things to label them one way or the other.”
So purposefully vague. They’re loyal henchmen slash employees after all. You hum in lieu of an answer, and you suppose you have no choice but to ask all your burning questions to the man himself once you see him.
The car drives into the central business district and pulls up to a skyscraper so tall that the top is shrouded by clouds, and you continue to try not to show your surprise as well-dressed staff help you out of the car and escort you through an opulent lobby into a dim elevator. Your mouth slowly starts to gape open when it starts to go up past floor numbers that there aren’t even buttons for.
Working at a crime syndicate really gets you somewhere, huh. But you quickly have to put yourself together when the doors slide open on the 109th floor and Sylus in all of his devastatingly good looks is already standing on the other side to receive you.
“Hi,” you squeak, barely managing to get it out.
He gives you a small smile and extends his hand in invitation once again, in imitation of your first meeting. “It’s nice to finally see you again, kitten.”
Your eyes fixate on him as you put your hand in his, a mirror of your first meeting with him, and Sylus walks you into an endless hallway, fingers gripping onto his a bit tighter as you admire how his choice today of a red dress shirt stretches against his broad back and shoulders.
He leads you into a lounge space and has you sit on a black leather couch as he heads to the bar table on the side to pour you a drink, placing a needle on an already-spinning disk.
You spend a while in silence, taking in the dark interior of the room. The aesthetic, paired with the melodic tune of an organ that starts to permeate the air, gives the room an almost-gothic feel that reeks of opulence in its tasteful tones and luxurious fit-out.
“You like crows?” There’s a metal statue of one perched on a plinth in front of a large, almost-abstract canvas with red and black swirls. No doubt, the piece is one of Rafayel’s—you can recognize his style anywhere.
“I do,” Sylus replies as he returns to you holding two glasses and a bottle of champagne. “My real one, Mephisto, finds these decorations offensive. But that statue predates him.”
You laugh at the comical thought of this smartly-dressed man with a full-sized crow on his arm being an actual thing. Like a cartoonishly evil supervillain that wants to take over the city. But with how this penthouse looks, and where it is, you’re worried that’s a bit closer to the truth than it probably should be.
“You know, I would have been able to get here by myself just fine if you told me your address,” you take one of the flutes from his hand. “It’s hard to miss the tallest building in the city. I always wondered what it was for.”
“And let your shoes touch non-carpeted ground when you’re coming on my invitation? You wound me.”
Pop! Sylus uncorks the bottle with ease, pouring you both a smooth fill. You recognize the bottle to be the same brand as the one he was drinking at Aether.
“You’re not serious,” you giggle as you hold your glass up to him.
He cocks an eyebrow. “But I am. Very much so.”
You and him make a soft clink with your drinks, and you take a quick sip before you put it down on the table in front of you to reach for your bag.
“Oh! And here’s the main event,” you dig through your things and pull out a small zip lock. “I rolled them already.”
Sylus laughs once he sees your work. “So cute and dainty.”
You huff. “I told you, I don’t smoke that much at a time. I usually only bum off my friends if they’re offering.”
“Yet you still wanted to buy some from me?”
You blush again. “Well, I wouldn’t usually, but you know.”
“Do I know, sweetie?” He teases you as he leans into your space, you huff in embarrassment before lightly pushing him away. You don’t really want to get into how desperate you were to see him again, so you try to change the topic.
“By the way. How much do you actually charge? You’ve been putting off telling me. At least give me some frame of reference even if you don’t want me to pay you. My friends would be easy converts to your… ‘family business’,” you quote the term Luke had used when you first met him.
Sylus cocks an eyebrow and gives you a smirk. “I appreciate that you’re trying to get me customers, but I’m afraid your friends fall far below my usual scope. You can always give some of what you have to them, I’m happy to give you more whenever you’d like.”
So Rafayel was right. He doesn’t even deal casually to normal people. “Okay, so what’s your angle? Clearly you’re giving me special treatment.”
“Of course I am.”
The easy admission takes you back, though you don’t know what else you would have expected. “...Why?”
Sylus smiles, pulls you closer to hoist you up by the waist, causing you to yelp in surprise. He seats you comfortably on his lap before he finally replies with another question.
“Do you really need to ask, sweetie?”
You give him a giggle, you feel his warm body even through his clothes now that you’re this close to him. “You just tried to ask me,” you argue, holding the joint up to him.
“I haven’t hid my intentions in the slightest,” he takes a lighter out from his pocket. “I feel voracious after not being able to properly spend time with the beautiful girl that I wanted to covet at first sight.”
You duck your head in embarrassment, not used to such bold declarations of interest. He chuckles and lights the end of the thin roll up before taking it from you.
He tests the waters by rolling his hips just enough for your breath to hitch before he continues. “And now I finally have you here. It feels just right, doesn’t it?”
How are you so sure? The text exchanges and calls aside, you’ve only met him in person once before. You echo the question out loud in a whisper and he laughs once again, like he can’t believe you don’t know the answer.
“I can see the gears in your head working overtime. It’s gonna hurt if you think too hard, kitten. Let’s try something else.”
He takes a long drag from the roll between his fingers before he grabs your chin with his other hand, pulling you forward until your lips meet his.
The combination of processing the kiss while inhaling the smoke that sat at the base of his throat causes you to almost instantly try to create some distance so you could cough, but Sylus immediately chases you into another one. It’s unrefined, and you wouldn’t expect your first kiss with Sylus to include sputtering into his mouth as you work through the itch in your throat, but the older man only seems to find it amusing as he chuckles against you.
“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, before pulling away just enough that he’s able to cock his head into the direction of where you were looking at earlier. You whine a bit at the separation, but follow his line of sight back to the painting in the room. “Do you recognize that piece?”
“Mhm,” you take your turn with a proper drag, deciding to go with telling the truth once you’ve slowly exhaled the smoke. “Rafayel is one of my closest friends. He mentioned that your… organization is a frequent buyer of his.”
“My… organization?” Sylus’ eyes shine in curiosity, wondering how you’ll phrase it.
“Well,” you falter just a bit, a thought flashing through your mind that maybe he’ll actually kill you if you say the word. The name. But you have a feeling that with Sylus’ brand of self-assuredness that he’d simply find your bumbling entertaining. You take another puff. “You know, Onychinus. Your boss has good taste, though.”
“My boss?” He sounds incredulous. “Where did you get the idea that I had one?”
You momentarily stutter. “...Y-you don’t?”
“No, kitten. I don’t work for Onychinus. I own Onychinus. Among other things.”
Oh. Your eyes widen.
For a second, the only thing that isn’t still in the room is the embers of the lit rolling paper slowly burning off bits of ash into the air.
You suppose it shouldn’t surprise you too much, with the way this man acts. But it does circle you back into questions about why he’s so interested in you.
“What’s that face, sweetie?” Sylus asks as he leans into your space. He says it in a betrayingly soft tone, but you know better than to be convinced by what you now fully understand is an absolute predator. “You scared?”
Another puff. “Not really,” you land on, and momentarily you’re taken aback at the truth of your answer. Maybe it’s the haze starting to prickle and seep into your skin, the way that you instinctually trust that his pursuit of you is genuine despite everything else about him that screams it wouldn’t be. Another pull. “Just… wondering what I did to catch the eye of a man like you.”
“You’re doing yourself a disservice.”
He tilts his head in request, and so you hold up the roll against him so he can take a long drag that almost burns through the remainder of the joint in one go. But instead of breathing it out into the air, he cups your cheek into one large hand and brings your lips to meet his again. This time, you’re anticipating the shotgun, and you open your mouth to give him access to exhale the dense smoke straight into you.
You find that from all your experiences, this is the best way you’ve ever gotten high.
He’s still close enough that you can feel his warm breath as he moves to speak quietly into your ear. His hand that was just on your face travels slowly down as it traces your spine to rest with the other that’s on your waist.
“Something spoke to my baser instincts the moment I saw you,” his hands begin to guide you to roll your hips, and you hitch your breath when the heat that begins to pool at the edge of your cunt meets his hardening cock through his pants. “To claim and make mine. You felt it too, didn’t you?”
You nod, and a thumb begins to press gently into the soft muscle of your stomach, rubbing in small circles. He continues, “and it just so happened that some fools that didn’t understand their standing thought that it would be the perfect time to contest my authority. Isn’t that such an inconvenience? I had to lay a trail of cannabis crumbs to make sure this kitten kept following me while I was dealing with their… mess.”
“Mmm, but I would have committed to seeing you again regardless. So you didn’t have to do that, really,” you confess.
“No? But it served its purpose, did it not? Now you’re here right where I want you to be for the foreseeable future,” he noses into the crook of your neck, mouthing and nuzzling into your simmering skin. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”
“I-I mean,” you stutter, fully debased. Isn’t this too straightforward? But you can’t bring yourself to resent it at all. “I have. I have a job.”
“That you haven’t even passed the probationary period for. You might as well quit while you’re at it. You wouldn’t have to work a day of your life if you wish, kitten. I can give you anything you could possibly ask for.”
Now, as the high truly settles in, you try to think about it as hard as your mind allows you to. You giggle once you realize what exactly he’s asking of you, the clouds in your head beginning to bear weight. “And that’s your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? To play housewife to the big bad mafia boss?”
“Why… is the lack of fanfare an issue?” Sylus tightens the hold he has around your waist, picking up the speed of your ministrations. “Would you prefer I make a grand declaration of my intent? Cover your whole apartment in thousands of roses? Hire an orchestra? Write ‘will you be mine?’ across the sky?”
“No, no issues.”
“Good,” he nods. “There will be plenty of time for big, expensive proclamations of my affection in the future. So, your answer?”
Decidedly, you take the final puff which brings the cinder to the filter, and you shakily loosen yourself from his grasp to try to lower yourself onto the floor, burnt-out joint falling somewhere inconsequential. But the fast onslaught of your high causes you to almost fall off the sofa entirely, only saved by his strong harms slowing you until you’ve made a safe descent. “I-is this answer enough?”
He leans down to capture your lips in his, finally in a proper kiss. Grabbing either side of your face with his hands and taking up all your air, causing you to gasp and push away from him, using up the last of your strength that you’re still in control of to force him to lean back against the cushion.
He smirks as he watches your clumsy movements, hands travelling from his chest, to his stomach, until they land on his thighs, feeling the expanse of his skin through his pants. You scoot closer, moving until you’re palming his crotch through the fabric.
He coos. “Aw. Are you trying to make me feel good?”
“Yeah,” you whine, kinda pathetically as you paw at the zipper of his trousers. “Wan—want to prove I’m worth keeping.”
But it’s hard. The zipper isn’t budging no matter how much force you feel like you’re putting in to pull it down. You lay your head on the side of his inner thigh in defeat, staring up at him with a pleading face as you go still.
Sylus only laughs breathlessly as he reaches out to swipe your bottom lip with a thumb, until it catches and forces itself into your mouth. You suck instinctively when he presses down on your tongue, gagging when for a moment he slides it a bit too deep into your throat.
He pulls it out, but not completely—just enough so that he can glide it against your pearly white teeth. “How sweet. But couldn’t you already tell, sweetie? I like you so much. That’s been my plan all along.”
Sylus uses his free hand to finish the job, making quick work in pulling his fly apart and underwear down just enough to free his cock.
Fuck. “So big,” you murmur to yourself, but he catches it anyway.
“Is it?”
It makes you delirious, watching him look down at you like that. You think it should be frightening how natural it feels to slide under his control, but it isn’t. It only keeps making you want to lay all of yourself bare to him, put all this trust in him that truly, he has yet to earn. And at this point, you don’t even care that the high is making you way too honest with the things you want to do with him, the things you want him to do to you. “Yes, it’s so—I wanna put my mouth on it, daddy.”
Sylus takes the new pet name in complete stride, of course he does. Not missing a beat before the smile on his face grows to one that can only be described as something close to sinister, like a grand scheme unfolding exactly how he’s plotted it. “Is that who you want me to be, kitten?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, all too open and easy.
“Then daddy’s got you, hm?” he hums in approval. “What are you waiting for?”
You take a good look at his cock now that it’s right in front of your face, half-excited and half-scared thinking about how all of that is even going to fit in all of you.
You truly have no clue—you just need to keep going to find out—but the dizziness caused by both the weed and your arousal hinders it a lot. You try to start by leaning your head forward and sticking your tongue out just enough so that it can trace a vein on the underside of his cock, and you whimper in tandem to his hiss when the salty taste of his skin hits your tongue.
Trying to work yourself up to bravely fitting him into your mouth, you begin to lick what you can reach softly, trying to apply enough pressure so that Sylus can actually feel something. But your jaw turns sore faster than you expect in your dazed state, and it makes you whine in frustration—you want it to feel good for him, as good as you think he deserves, and the embarrassment of potentially not being able to do that makes something sting at the back of your eyes.
Every time your mouth slides up enough that it catches onto the tip of his cock, you try to take the rest of his length in, but the second you begin to get overwhelmed about just how much you have to take in, you withdraw and go back to—
“Kitten licks,” Sylus notes, not unkindly. “Do you need some help?”
“Please?” A hand comes up to the base of your neck, fingers deceptively gentle as they tread through under your hair, until the facade drops when he twists and wraps it across his knuckles to give him enough leverage and pulls.
You gasp at the force of it, the dull ache that begins to set on your scalp turning into pleasure as he positions your lips against the head of his girth.
“Open up and relax, sweetie. It’ll be easier that way,” is the only warning he gives before he uses his grip to push you down.
Trying your best to adhere to his advice, you force your body to go slack and exhale through your nose, but half the length of his cock is shoved down your throat in one go and you gag at the sudden intrusion.
You shiver once you feel your drool leak from the corners of your mouth down your chin and neck, seeping slowly into the top that you still have on. You feel your eyes water, not spilling quite yet as you try your absolute best to breathe as calmly as you can through your nose.
Sylus keeps you still for a beat, you watch him work through his own slightly-dazed state to process the sight of your mouth failing to accommodate his size.
“Hah, so tight. Kitten, if you can’t fit me down your mouth, how am I going to fit in your cunt?” He questions, and you’re wondering the same thing.
But you can’t ponder on it longer when Sylus decides you’ve had enough time to adjust and begins to use force to bob your head up and down his cock.
It’s so uncomfortable, the more you focus on the way you can feel the slick from your cunt soaking and cooling your underwear. The heat that’s been coiling down there has become near unbearable, yet you can hardly squirm when Sylus’ cock down your throat is making you lightheaded from the restricted air supply. Other sensations fill you too—the smell of both of your sweat mixed with the aftermath of your smoke, how your jaw aches, the whines you’re letting out without your control.
You almost become limp after a while, surrendering your body to your high and zoning out on the suffocation, placing you into a foggy headspace that you have to trust Sylus to guide you through to his satisfaction. He’s started to buck his hips in synchronization to your head, and somewhere in the back of where you’re floating you can hear his deep grunts beginning to grow ragged.
You’re suddenly brought back to the surface when he jerks your head back, and it makes you whimper–whether it’s from the pain of your hair being pulled extra hard or if it’s because of the immediate feeling of emptiness, you can’t tell.
“Can’t let me have all the fun now,” he exhales, bringing himself back down from a near-climax. “Come up, kitten.”
Trembling, you stand anticipating that you’ll sit back on his lap, knees bracketing his thighs when he locks you in place with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. You buckle forward, stomach hitting the edge of the sofa back as Sylus lifts the hem of your top up to expose your waist.
A sharp bite on the meat of your hip causes you to yelp. “You’ve neglected yourself, poor thing,” he feigns sympathy as he uses his free hand to pull your bottoms down, and your legs shake as your cooling slick trails down your thigh with them.
If only Sylus could see your face, how flushed red you are now that you’re exposed to him there. But you’re sure he can feel it as his large hands work their way up and down the warmth of your skin, not quite venturing where you really want him to.
It makes you whine, “Sylus–”
“Ah-ah,” he interrupts. “Try again.”
“Daddy,” you yield immediately, desperate for something. Anything more than this.
“Better. Yes, sweetie?”
“Please touch me.”
“I’m already touching you, aren’t I?”
“No, I—you know what I mean, daddy, please,” you’re unbelieving that you even have to ask, to beg. Can’t he see the state you’re in? How your whole body is pulsating in need? Is it only obvious to yourself, or is he just toying with you? A frustrated sob chokes its way out of your mouth. You don’t want to play this game anymore.
He wraps an arm around the back of your knee and pulls you closer in a mock embrace. “Oh, sweetie,” he murmurs into your stomach. “Don’t be such a sore loser. I’ll always give you what you want eventually.”
But finally, he drags a slow finger along your slit and the contact makes you whimper in relief. “It’ll do you good to learn a little more patience,” Sylus continues. “But we’ve both been anticipating this for far too long. I’m at my limit too.”
Without preamble, he slides two fingers inside you, sinking them almost to the knuckle if not for a large ring on his middle finger stopping it. A loud, sudden cry rips from you then; you have nowhere to go to feel out the new sensation when he’s still got you in a tight hold. “The noises you make are so pretty,” he laughs. “I want to hear every one that I can elicit from you."
It’s not as if you’re trying to sound a particular way, it’s pure instinct as a result of whatever Sylus does to you. A cowering prey at the mercy of a carnivore. Yet his praise makes you visibly preen, making another small, little sound while pressing the plush of your thighs together in an attempt to lock his hand in place to stop the onslaught of your stimulation.
But he’s stronger than you, so it does nothing as he begins to set a relentless pace, immediately pushing the right buttons, carving into all the right places that sets your body alight.
“Does it feel good? Want more?”
What comes out of your mouth in response is a jumbled thing, your answer tangled between no, not yet, it’s too much, I’m not ready and yes, yesyesyesyes—
Evidently, he interprets it as the latter, curling his fingers just like that until he’s right up against the spot that makes you roll your eyes to the back of your skull.
He slaps your ass, then, a hard smack that rings in your ears after. “Stay as sharp as you can, kitten. I want you to feel everything I’m giving you,” he growls before hitting you again, and again, repeated blows that contradict the soft melody that’s still playing from the record player on the far side of the room.
Sylus has you gasp at every impact. And coupled with his fingers, now rapidly picking up speed as he continues to graze where you’re most sensitive inside, it’s all growing to be too much, exceeding your expectations every second when you start to feel more than you ever believed you could.
You fantasize, then. Give into his desires, and this can be your everyday; having this man do what he wants with you, his smart mouth and searing touch that puts you in a space that allows him to do anything, and all of what he decides feels so good, even when it’s painful or unusual or strange.
What little control you have left that’s keeping you in one piece is relinquished to him.
With that, you feel your orgasm fast approaching, but another sensation accompanies it—one that you’ve only anticipated in the past when you were more… well-prepared. “Wait, wait—stop,” you panic at the sudden realization of how expensive your surroundings are. “Daddy, stop, I’m gonna—”
He doesn’t let up. “No, no, let it all out, kitten.”
And your whole body is wracked with violent shivers when you do, searing relief coursing through you as you’re reduced to pitiful mewls. You gush all over his hand, Sylus incessantly wrings you out of everything you’ve got, and it keeps going as your fluids cascade down until it soaks all that sits below you.
Somewhere past your head, you think you can hear him laugh.
By some mercy, he finally rolls to a halt, wet hands moving back to your waist to keep you steady on your knees. After a beat of trying to catch your breath, you open your eyes to see the absolute mess you’ve made. You’ve wet his pants, the couch, and even the rug on the floor. That sobers you up just a bit. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, it got everywhere—”
Sylus just keeps laughing, and you can hear the pure satisfaction in it, disregarding your worry and standing up, taking you with him as he hauls you over a broad shoulder. “I just see it as a kitten marking up her new territory.”
“Sylus,” you hiss, so ashamed. You bat your fists into his back in protest, and he simply gathers both your wrists up into one large hand and forces you to stay still. He hums and begins to walk out of the room.
“Mmm, so it’s Sylus when you’re bearing your claws,” he observes, taking a turn to a flight of stairs. He makes a show of bouncing you in his grip at every step. “But daddy when you’re asking for something. How cunning. You already know how to get what you want from me.”
And what more do you want from him, really? The answer doesn’t come easy, especially in your current state of mind. But you relish in how he’s long established that it could be anything, everything.
It brings you back to cute little giggles that echo down the hallway until he opens the door at the very end, revealing his bedroom, bathed in all the same dark and decadent tones as the rest of the penthouse, a flame already crackling in the central fireplace.
Despite how rough he’s been with you thus far, he puts you down delicately atop a dark silk duvet and you sink into the marshmallow-soft mattress.
You can’t help but let him know. “Wow, comfy…”
“It’s good you think so, sweetie, since you’ll be warming it for me from now on.”
The tip of your ears flare red again, and this time you feel the blush all the way down to your chest. Is that so.
Decidedly, you show how much you like the idea by ridding yourself of what remains of your clothes, tossing it to the side until you’re, at long last, naked before him. Sylus drinks up the sight of you as he strips himself down, drenched pants kicked off onto the floor as he unbuttons his dress shirt, and you can’t help but moan at the novel sight of his bare chest and toned abdomen.
You don’t get to admire it for long, though, because he makes haste to close the distance between you once more by pulling you into a deep kiss, immediately seeking entrance by forcing your lips open with his tongue. “You’re such a darling,” he says in the brief moments you separate for air. “So pretty. How could I not want to ruin you from the moment I saw you?”
He nudges your knees apart with his so that he can properly settle between your legs, his hands moving to help you wrap your legs around his waist then sliding them up to your hips to pull you even closer.
He groans once he has the full length of his cock propped up against your stomach, head parallel to your navel. “Look at how deep I’m going to be, kitten.”
You brave yourself to take a glance down, and you wheeze in intimidation when you do. From your perspective, it’s outright intimidating. But the sudden feeling of how empty you are sets you off-kilter, your determination (or is it your need? your innermost desire?) shines through.
“I need it, daddy,” you beg in a small voice.
“Oh, do you now? And here I thought it was just me.” He’s smiling when he says it.
The bubble of frustration rises up again at his teasing, incessant even at a time like this. “I want to satisfy you,” you beg again, hoping this time he’ll give you want you want, which is to— “satisfy you—your greed,”
“That’s impossible,” he admits in a moment of honesty. “But you’re so sweet for wanting to try, kitten. The sweetest little thing you are. I want to eat you whole.”
You find that you want it too—so much that your body reacts so positively just at the idea, presenting yourself to him on a silver platter. You want Sylus to consume you for everything you are and savor the pleasure of being his most delicious meal.
But any further thoughts that might have begun to form in your head dissipate just as fast when Sylus tightens his hold on you and brings his lips to the side of your neck. He takes his time, claiming all you have to offer as he trails your skin with bruising kisses and bites, no doubt things that will leave marks come morning.
He explores every part of you, all while his cock skims your wet entrance at every movement, and the feeling rushes over you again, as your skin turns red and purple from his attention, that you don’t care anymore about anything else. You need it, you need, it, you need—
One more time, since he’s been so kind to teach you. “Please, daddy, can you come in? I-I need you here.”
You take his large hand in yours and guide it to press against your womb.
The sound that rips out of his mouth is more beast than human. “That’s it,” he groans. “So simple. You tell daddy what you want and you’ll get it.”
A sigh of relief was about to escape you as you watch him align his cock to your hole, but it snuffs out just as fast. The initial stretch of his cock, even after all his hard work, is so painful that it makes you instinctively beat weak fists to his chest—which devastatingly only causes him to slide even deeper, letting out a rumble of low laughter that’s coated in condescending affection when he sees that a stray tear, after everything he’s put you through, has finally managed to escape your eye.
“Shhh, kitten—”
“It hurts so much, daddy—”
“I know. I know it does, sweet girl,” he nods, as if he understands, as if he’s sympathetic. Yet he leans in close to lick the salty, watery path across your cheek with a warm tongue, and he groans in satisfaction—savoring yet another place that you’re leaking from, because of him. “I know it’s difficult. But you’re doing so well, so brave, fitting all of me in you.”
And those words wash right over you, his sugar-coated words that lean just on the right side of demeaning that puts you back down with the threat of drowning in them. You can tell how effortlessly all of this comes to him, and you can tell how much he enjoys how eagerly you’re affected by it.
He takes the time to look down. Halfway in. You can only imagine how the view of your abused cunt fluttering around his cock looks like, the way Sylus can’t keep his darkened eyes off of where the two of you are now joined. The tears flow freely from you now, from both pain and sheer respite, and you can’t decide whether you need him to pause or keep going.
Sylus takes the choice away from you as he pulls you further on him, bottoming out, and your back arches off the bed when you feel him hit the wall of your womb, the farthest part in you that he could possibly reach. “Good girl,” he praises you as if it was a soothing balm. “Such a good girl, the best.”
He lowers his head, baring the meat of his neck to you. “Hold on if you need to, kitten,” he offers, and you make good of your namesake by reaching out and clamping your teeth down onto the fat of his skin there. He lets out a ragged breath and picks up the pace then, fucking you onto his cock in a way so punishing that it leaves you no other option than to just take it.
Your hands struggle to find purchase on something, anything to ground yourself with until they find their way to the thick of his back, nails scratching the surface until they’re breaking skin, marking him as much as you’re sure that he has marked you.
Your saliva leaks from the corners of your mouth—can’t even swallow properly—and trickles down your chin and his shoulder, joining in with your salty tears.
This is everything that you’ve needed. Someone who knows how to take your agency away from you exactly the way you need him to. Someone who knows, intuitively, exactly where he has to touch and press and kiss to make you go dumb, to put you in a fuzzy headspace where all that's required of you is to take everything he wants to give you, because he'll only give you exactly what you need to feed the desire that festers within you.
You want to tell him so, and it takes all of you to pull yourself from where you were latched. “Feels so good, daddy,” you cry. “Fuck, so good, I-I can’t—”
Your head falls back, unable to finish what you were trying to say.
Sylus is enamored.
“Just—just look at you, sweetie,” he coos, admires as you give up on your sentence altogether. He slows his thrusts, just enough to say what he does next with clarity. “You’re like a doll—willing to let me do whatever I want with you. I can throw you around this room and you’d still look at me like I’m the only thing that you want. How would I have been able to live with myself if I allowed you to slip through my fingers?”
And you don’t understand what he’s saying anymore—can’t process it—how Sylus sliding the full length of him in and out of your pussy is making you struggle so much with even forming a simple thought. Are you supposed to feel embarrassed, how your only response is your heavy breathing, rapidly turning pathetic, whiny?
He lets go, lowering you down back to the bed, adjusting his hold so that a hand pushes the back of your knee away and another landing right on top of where you’re connected. A testing graze of a rough thumb parting the folds of your cunt to reach your clit starts causing a new wave of tears to fall.
“Say it, kitten—that you’ll stay like this, pliant on daddy’s cock.”
And how easy it is to be just that—how good he is to you when you’ve opened yourself up for his taking only. It’s no surprise that you’re furiously nodding your head, chasing another wave of pleasure as you squirm under his touch. “Yes! Yes—I will—”
A vision you must look to him, he hisses an inhale and spits onto your clit, using it to knead swirling circles that have you falling quickly into another climax.
“A-are you close, daddy?” You ask, not waiting to hear his answer. You’re already pleading. “I want it inside—inside, daddy. I need it, need it inside, please, pleasepleaseplease—”
And what he pulls you into is less a kiss and more of something violent, your teeth clacking in a way that would be painful if you weren’t almost completely gone, and a perfectly timed bite to your bottom lip is just enough to send you over the edge once more.
It has you panicking, your nails notching themselves deep into his shoulder blades, and he’s growling in both the pain of it and the pleasure of your cunt clenching around him in a deliciously heated grip as your orgasm coerces and works itself out of your trembling body.
“I’ll give you all of it, hah—” Sylus rasps, evidently near his end too, he speeds up, driving his whole length in and out of you, and the overstimulation is dizzying, you keep crying, you’ve got almost everything that you’ve wanted except for this one last thing.
“Please.”
A rough and heavy hand presses your lower stomach and it makes you feel his every jolt and stutter against your deepest parts, hot white of his come warming you from the inside and fighting the reduced space, leaking from your cunt onto the already-ruined sheets.
When his momentum finally slows and almost comes to a stop, you try to push him out of you with what little strength you can muster, thinking it must be time to wash up because you don’t know what else Sylus would want from you now that he’s taken everything you’ve got.
But somehow, he’s still impossibly hard, and he doesn’t allow his cock to slip out of you, an audible tsk at your feeble attempt.
You look up to take one good look at his gleaming ruby eyes. Sylus bores into you like he’s seizing prey once more, and you know immediately—you’re surrendering the rest of the day, maybe even the night, the rest of your life, to keep fulfilling that insatiable desire of his. And you’d be a fool to even think that this was enough for a man like him.
“More.”
When you wake, the moon is high in the sky, slipping in from the crack in the curtain and bathing Sylus’ bedroom in soft cool blues.
You lift your head from where it rested on his chest, to find that sobriety has set in during your sleep. You regard him, already up, in full clarity as he types on his phone with one hand, brightness set low so as to not disturb you. You feel the sensation of his other hand rubbing absentminded circles against the back of your neck.
“Your supervisor says that while you were ‘very promising and shaping up to be a very valuable member of the team,’ that they ‘understand your situation and wish you the best.’ You must have sold yourself short when you told me you weren’t doing well, sweetie. They seemed to have regarded you highly.”
“What?! You… quit my job for me?” You look into his eyes, which show only smug satisfaction and zero remorse for the decision he’s just made on your life. This guy’s crazy. “What did you even say?”
“Don’t worry, the exchange was professional. Your track record is still clean should you for some reason ever want to return to the workforce.”
“But, my rent, Tara—”
“I could buy your apartment in her name so you won’t have to worry about that. She’s a good friend, isn’t she? She’d deserve it for taking such good care of you all this time,” he pinches your cheek, places his phone down on the nightstand. “Finances will no longer be a problem for you. I’ve already transferred a year’s worth of what you would have earned at that job into your account. My… girlfriend isn’t allowed to be broke.”
“Are you serious?”
Sylus huffs, gently moving you under him as he climbs on top of your still-naked form, turning you so that you face the smooth silk sheets, still soiled with the combination of you and Sylus’ sweat and mess.
“Are you really asking me that now? Haven’t I shown my sincerity?”
A hand caresses up the small of your back until it lands on a bite on your shoulder blade that’s just beginning to bruise. You gasp as he presses down on it, just hard enough for the dull ache to turn sharp. He lowers himself until his mouth ghosts over your reddening ears. “It seems I’ll just have to keep going until you understand… just how deep my devotion runs.”
You may have just sold your soul.
You cry out into the pillow when he sinks the entire length of his cock into you again in one effortless glide.
“No one’s around this late at night, don’t hide. Won’t you spoil your daddy by letting him hear your sweet little sounds? Just like how I’ll spoil you too. You’ll want for nothing, kitten.”
And honestly, you suppose that you can get used to this.