hiiiiii! i honestly just like to have fun. i make little sylus themed wallpapers and other stuff or write fanfiction it really doesn't matter. its all fun for me. talking about my hyperfixation with people who also share my interests is really what i'm here for. i write a lot of sfw so my blog isn't really of limits. just no minors interacting with my nsfw.
You had all that bravado when it came to flirting, but where did all that bravado go now that you got them hot and bothered.
A/N: ‼️MDNI‼️ it's only suggestive, but y'all still shouldn't be reading it.
Zayne
Zayne is insanely touch starved and you are quite literally the light of his life. He tells you to watch your hands in public because this man will get drunk off of you from a single touch. He's almost like a teenage boy he's on like a light when you start flirting and teasing him. He's cool calm and collected, but only because there are prying eyes everywhere.
Until now, you decided to get him going while the two of you are alone. You find yourself straddling his lap as he's devouring your neck expecting you keep that same bravado you've had day in and day out. He's taken aback when you grab his wrists to stop him from taking your shirt off. "I can hear your heart beating fast are you nervous?" he'd ask with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've never actually .... done this before" You mumbled looking away as embarrassment washed over you. "You're quite the temptress during the day, but it seems it's all a façade"
You squirmed under his touch as his hands gripped your hips pulling you impossibly closer. "Do you want me to stop?" He kept eye contact as he anticipated your answer. You shook your head "No I just wanted you to know I'm nervous" Zayne had already tuned you out after hearing your 'No'. His hands slid up and under your shirt cupping your boobs "Don't worry I'll be gentle"
Rafayel
It was all fun and games flirting and teasing Rafayel. You enjoyed watching him get flustered, but you were shocked when he finally had enough and pinned you down on his couch. Now you done got him going. "R-Raf I was just-" He cut you off with a kiss causing you to melt under him.
"You're such a tease" He whispered breathlessly against your lips. He dipped his head connecting his lips with yours again. He was invading your senses you couldn't seem to think straight. He slotted himself between your legs and slowly grinded against you. This man would so intoxicating he would get you down to your panties and bra before you yelled "Wait!" and pushed his chest to keep him at arms length. "What? Getting nervous?" He teased.
Silence.
His eyes widened in realization. "Wait you're really nervous?" He would straight start laughing. "It's not funny!" You'd shout trying to reach for your shirt that he haphazardly threw to the floor. He pinned you back down, holding both your wrists in one hand. "I'm not laughing at you beloved" He paused trying to stifle a laugh, but failed. "I just can't believe after all of that flirting, but you get nervous here"
You rolled your eyes and huffed "The flirting part is easy" You mumbled, turning your head away from him. You yelped when you felt him lick your neck following it with a light suck. "Do you want me to go easy on you?" He asked turning your head back to look at him.
"I want you to be gentle with me! You're very intense right now!" You wriggled underneath him for emphasis. Rafayel's breath grew short and choppy from your movements. "That's not helping me calm down you know" You could feel his stiff length pressing against your clit. The pressure made your stomach flip from the sensation. "Do you trust me?" You nodded your head. "Good just lay back I'll take care of you"
Xavier
Xavier had been waiting patiently. He had the patience of a saint, but the minute you teased him one night while you sat on his bed in nothing, but his shirt and panties that flipped a switch in him. He sat next to you, grabbed your chin and kissed you with fervor. This wasn't new so you kissed him back and instinctively ran your hand up the back of his neck and entangled your fingers in his hair.
It was when he tried to lean you back on the bed that you stiffened, pushing back to keep yourself upright. He nipped at your bottom lip and tried again only to be met with the same response. "What's wrong?" he asked squeezing your hip and rubbing small circles.
"Uhm nothing...." You trailed off looking around trying to find any kind of excuse. Xavier studied your face which only made you even more nervous. "You're scared aren't you?" Yes. Yes you were, but you couldn't just outright say that you were too embarrassed.
Xavier turned and tapped his chin, you could tell he was deep in thought. "Why do you constantly flirt and tempt me so often?" He didn't look at you as he continued to try and piece together his thoughts. "Flirting is fun and easy .... this" you gestured between the two of you "is much more nerve wracking"
He finally turned back to you and long gone was the soft doe-eyed Xavier you were used to. His eyes seemed to sharpen and were way more intense than before. "Is this the part where I take control?" You balked at his question you tried to respond, but your mind had gone blank.
Xavier moved to the floor, sitting back on his heels as he quickly tossed your legs over his shoulders. He started to lean forward only to be met with your hand on his forehead. He grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. "Or do you want me to beg?" Although he asked the question with a whimper in his voice; his eyes had a demanding aura behind him. He trailed soft kisses up your thighs "I've been" Kiss. "So good" Kiss. "Please baby" Kiss. He reached the apex of your thighs and placed a soft wet kiss on your clothed sex and then blew on it. You shivered as your mind went hazy. "I'll be so gentle"
You trusted this man with your life you couldn't help, but nod when you looked into those pleading eyes.
Sylus
Sylus was such a patient man so patient to the point you believed your flirting didn't affect him at all. He was always so calm no matter what you said.
Sylus: Let's grab something to drink I'm parched
You: I got something you can drink
Sylus: Focus sweetie
You don't know what did it, but tonight your suggestive wording had him hot and bothered.
The chef was gone for the evening so you were in his kitchen baking brownies in one of his shirts that hung mid-thigh.
Sylus leaned against the counter watching you with amusement. You held up a finger covered in chocolate up to Sylus trying to swipe it on his nose, but he of course caught your wrist. Surprisingly, he looked you dead in the eyes as he wrapped his lips around your finger gingerly sucking the chocolate and finishing it off with a quick nip at the digit. He dropped your wrist and muttered "It's sweet"
Your stomach flipped at his sultry voice and in your nervous state you responded. "I got something sweeter" His brow quirked and mischief danced in his eyes as you realized what you just said. The air in the kitchen shifted and you knew you fucked up by the way Sylus seemed to prowl towards you. He disappeared leaving nothing, but a few feathers before appearing right in front of you again, caging you between him and the island.
You gasped at the sudden close proximity. "Do I also get to try the something sweeter?" He swiftly set you onto the counter and stepped between your legs. He dipped his head giving your neck a soft kiss and a good nibble. A soft moan left your lips at the feeling. "I like that sound coming from you" He moved to nibble on the other side of your neck resulting in another moan.
"Wait Sylus" You panted. He raised his head holding eye contact as he waited for you to continue. "Can I be honest?" He nodded his head once "I'm listening"
"I've never done this before....." You voice trailed off as you went to squeeze your legs shut only to end up squeezing his waist. "Are you scared?" He whispered leaning in until his lips were mere inches from yours.
"Yes" You responded breathlessly. Sylus would be shocked at your confession but also intrigued. "What happened to that temptress I see daily?" You kept quiet as you stared back at him internally screaming. "She got her ass kicked by the nervous wreck in front of you"
summary: you just want this to be over. this feeling of unease between you—all of you. he made his choice. you weren’t it. so why does it still hurt so damn bad?
warning(s): angst, language, mutual pining, jealousy, mentions of past abuse and kidnapping, hurt feelings, unrequited love (?), reader is not mc, stream of consciousness, sylus wants to have his cake and eat it, too
notes: the aftermath of this blurb. inspired by @world-of-hearts and their genius brain. couldn't get this scenario out of my head, so here it is. hope someone enjoys it. thank you lots for reading! ❤️❤️❤️
music inspo: the boy is mine - ariana grande
Sylus is slowly coming to terms with the fact that only two people in this world can get away with talking to him sideways.
Before, there was only one. One person who could boss him around. Make him heel like a Doberman, vibrating with the urge to protect. But now—
“Freezing!” hissed from his side.
The source of the exclamation darts to him in a blur. And it comes to him in the form of hands wrapping around his bicep, followed by a frost-kissed cheek smooshed against his arm.
Amusement colors his features. He looks down at the crown of her head, resisting an urge to pat through locks speckled with frost. She shivers. Teeth chattering, and it looks like she has no intention of letting go.
“Miss Hunter,” Sylus acknowledges.
She responds with a violent shiver sifting through her bones. Sylus’ chest swells. He tries vainly to hide that stupid smile she always heralds in. Told her to wear more layers before she left the mansion. But she’s stubborn as all hell. And he supposes that’s what draws him to her like a moth to a flame.
He can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy this—being the center of her attention—even if it’s only to siphon his warmth. Regardless, he chuckles fondly. Encases the woman in his arms, tucking her beneath the flap of his trench coat.
“Someone was more concerned with being cute than warm,” he chides. Peers off to the side as if she’s a nuisance when she fixes him with a pointed look—like he isn’t secretly eating this all up.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” squeezed through grit teeth as she cowers into his jacket, tucking herself impossibly closer to his hip. “Just…keep me warm, will ya’?”
“Of course.”
So enthralled by the adorable honey-badger at his side, he forgets they have an audience.
Something bitter-cold sinks into his belly when he feels you in his peripheral. He winces as if pricked by a needle when, as he turns his head to fully take you in, his darling little hunter friend wraps her arms around his waist.
No matter how harmless the gesture, Sylus can’t help feeling like he’s betraying you.
Your gazes interlock. For a moment, your eyes quiver with something far-off. But you quickly look away, your hands stuffed in your coat pockets and a facsimile of a smile twitching your lips.
Sylus’ breath thickens in his lungs. Barbs line his throat, trapping whatever excuse he wants to utter. Whatever words he wishes to offer as comfort. It’s not often he’s at a loss for words. But maybe it’s better this way, if he keeps his thoughts to himself. You’re already wounded, both inside and out. Wouldn’t be fair to throw salt in festering lacerations.
You look so small. So plain where you otherwise shine like a constellation, attracting the awe and wonder of those around. He did this. Stole your luster. Whittled you down to this quiet, avoidant thing. There isn’t a moment that passes where he doesn’t regret hurting you, but—
Sylus stiffens when you reach through the maelstrom of his thoughts to pat the other woman’s arm. You flash him a wary look before the smile returns to your lips, and you rub her arm to ward off the biting, wintry chill.
Warmth returns to your countenance. That sisterly affection you exude exclusively for her. He remembers a time when she was the bane of your existence. A thorn in your side. Now, she’s something like family. Or as close to a family as you could call this patchwork of misfits.
Though his heart tugs and the cogs in his mind whirr, Sylus is grateful you found a little solace in the discord. A distraction to keep you busy where your mind is a slurry of self-doubt, rejection, and things of the like.
“Why don’t I go get you some coffee,” you state more than ask, your voice rivaled by the chatter of those around.
Sylus doesn’t contest you. Figures it’s your way of excusing yourself. Running away. He’d be bitter, too, if he caught him like this.
He watches you with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Dons a mask of indifference as he nods, and your aura exudes playfulness despite the forlorn glimmer in your eye.
He wishes you didn’t have to wear such a brave face. Sure, you’re used to wearing facades. He’s forced them on you for years. But he knows your pride’s leaking through the cracks.
You’d punch him if you knew how chaotic his thoughts around you were.
So he watches you meander towards the coffee trailer without a word. Peers down at the woman housed in his embrace, a twitch of a smile on his lips. He rubs her back to help her defrost. Ignores how his chest tightens, and something in the darkest recesses of his mind screams for him to fix this.
Two.
Did he mention only two people who could get away with making him feel like this?
The aromatic scent of coffee is comforting. A soothing balm to your heart, easing that gnarling feeling in your gut. That sensation you can’t place that makes you sick and your head all fuzzy.
“—and one chai latte, please. Almond milk,” you say, sliding the barista your black card.
She gives you a rehearsed smile when she returns it. Tells you she’ll call when your order’s ready. You respond with a practiced grin of your own, turning away from the window.
Stepping down from the steps of the coffee trailer, you clap your hands together. Rub them together to ward off the cold. Cup them to your mouth and blow. Pointedly avoid a set of carmine eyes, whittling you down to the marrow as you duck beneath an awning coated in gossamer frost.
He’s been staring at you like that since you walked away.
You sigh. Shove your hands in your pockets, shoulders dropping. You wish Sylus didn’t worry. Like you’re something brittle. Wish he didn’t skirt around you, your issues, and this tension. It makes you angry.
He acts as if things will never go back to normal. And maybe they won’t, given the trauma you recently endured. But you wish that were the only reason he kept you at arm’s length. Walked on eggshells around you.
You spare a glance at the pair of them. Catch Sylus’ gaze before it fleets away, his attention returned to his darling Miss Hunter and her friends crowding him. The center of attention, as always.
You smile wryly. Kick up some snow. Peer up at the star-speckled sky, leaning against a pole.
You just want this to be over. This feeling of unease between you—all of you. He made his choice. You happened to not be it. So what? You’ve been let down before. Been through worse, literally dragged through the bowels of hell and back.
It’s your job to be detached. Indifferent. Years spent seducing and killing the scourge of humanity have trained you to be stiff as stone. But even stone weathers with time.
You suck your teeth. Since when have you thought like this? Stupid.
You’re caught up in the inner turmoil of your mind. Hardly register when someone calls your name. Tentative, but they try again, and you hear it clearly this time. You look up. Surprise warps your features.
“It is you!” he calls enthusiastically, jogging over. Trips in the thick snow, and you reach out to steady him. He laughs abashedly, rubbing the scruff of his neck. His smile is infectious. And he’s still as endearing as ever.
You perk up as the man’s face comes to loom over you. He’s all dimpled smiles and rosy cheeks. His glasses overwhelm his face, only adding to his charm.
“Greyson? Hey!” you greet, your breath visible and filling the space between you.
“Long time no see!” he replies, reaching out to pat your arm. Friendly in nature, but it nearly knocks you off kilter. He’s stronger than you remember. “How’ve you been?”
For the first time in months, you smile. Genuinely. Nothing rehearsed, nothing forced. “Been makin’ it. Taking it day by day. How are you?” you ask with a playful jab.
“Same, same.”
“Yeah? See you’ve been workin’ out. You got big,” you add coyly, touching his bicep. Greyson chuckles, his cheeks turning several shades of red.
It’s surprisingly easy to fall into conversation with an old friend. Seamless, as if the years haven’t kept you apart. With all your notoriety, you’ve barely taken time to remember those you came up with. Barely taken time to breathe.
While you’re busy catching up, you feel them. Red eyes tuned to your every move. To every titter leaving your lips, every well-placed hand on a shoulder, or demure fingers wrapped around a wrist.
Maybe you’re playing up the theatrics a little too much under the guise of “catching up.” You squeeze Greyson’s biceps. Flutter your lashes a little too temptingly, laugh a little too sweet. You’re too good at this.
Maybe a part of you basks in the attention given to you from afar. From the jealous aura he exudes even from that distance.
As you pick up your order, then turn back to Greyson to key your number into his phone, you feel your chest swell with pride. Triumph.
He’s watching you like a hawk. Sylus. And you don’t doubt that he’ll have something to say when you return to them. But for now, you’ll have fun making his head swim with envy.
He made his choice, after all. And now you’re making yours.
“Call me whenever,” you all but purr. “We can catch up more while you’re still in town.”
Jealous?
Sylus doesn’t get jealous.
Territorial, maybe. A little possessive. Overprotective. But jealousy’s never been a part of his repertoire.
So why the hell can’t he get this scowl off his face? Shake that twisting feeling in his stomach as you return, a foxlike grin rounding your lips?
Sylus doesn’t let you out of his sight, even after you’ve given everyone their drinks. Follows you to a bench a little ways off from the pier where the fireworks are set to go off.
He sits a considerable distance from you at the other end, the warmth of his coffee cup bleeding into his palms. You’re none the wiser to his silent rage. Or at least, you pretend to be as you innocently sip your coffee, watching the Ferris Wheel languidly turn in the distance.
Sipping from his cup, he clears his throat. “Who was that?” There’s an edge to his voice. Then again, there always is. Maybe you won’t notice this one’s more venomous than usual.
You snort in disbelief. “An old client.”
“An old client?” Sylus parrots with a raised brow. “You two seemed awfully…close for him to be old.”
You snort again, setting down your coffee. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Do…that,” you say, dismissively waggling your fingers.
Sylus bristles, biting the rim of his cup. “Whatever do you mean?”
For the first time since sitting down, you look at him. He returns the gesture, feigning indifference. Can’t deny how beautiful you appear, silhouetted by the moonlight. The furrow of your brows does nothing to detract from your allure. And it’s the first bit of real emotion you’ve given him since he rejected you.
You sigh with frustration. “Can we just…can we not do this? This weird shit you’ve got going on?”
Sylus fixes his mouth to retort. To continue this childish game of keep-away, skirting around the tension that slowly brews in the space between. He decides against it. Deads the whole ordeal, taking in the exhaustion marring your face. You’ve been through enough.
Silence lapses between the pair of you. An uncomfortable silence where there was once laughter and banter and harmless flirting.
A few people walk by.
His throat clicks as he swallows. And he releases a breath alongside the tension from his shoulders. He sits back in an easy slouch, nursing the contents of his cup. Feels silly, baby-stepping around you like this. It’s uncharacteristic of him. But you’ve drawn things out of him as of late, things he thought himself dead to years ago.
“So, who am I seducing tonight?” you query on a laugh. Your attempt to shift gears. To dispel the awkwardness as you watch the darkened horizon glitter with lights.
Sylus tuts, fixing you with a sardonic smirk. “You know I don’t only keep you around for your looks, right? For your body?”
Honestly, he doesn’t. And he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels the need to clear the air when you’ve discussed this ad nauseam before.
When those thugs had filled your head with those lies after they kidnapped you. Convinced you, you were nothing more than a pawn. A rook on Sylus’ chessboard.
He bristles at the recollection. The way he found you, all bruised and battered. Because of him. All because—
Your scoff breaks through his ruminating.
“Then why do you keep me around, boss?” There’s a bitterness to your tone. Bitter like the coffee grinds sitting at the bottom of his cup.
You maneuver yourself to fully face him on the bench, legs and arms crossed. Expression expectant, hopeful.
Sylus lips work around an excuse. Something to put you at ease. He knows. He knows this. Why is it so hard to say it? Why is it—
A thunderous explosion parts the sea of tension between you. You both look skyward as the stratosphere erupts in a flurry of technicolor lights and the ground shakes.
People gather ‘round the rail in front of you, in awe and amazement at the beautiful display.
Sylus releases a breath he was unaware of holding. Surprisingly quiet as the sky burns with light. Can’t help watching you in his peripheral, your gaze unwavering as you watch alongside him.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.
Doesn’t know if he’s referencing the fireworks exploding overhead, or you with your defenses buried beneath the snow and your heart on your sleeves. Just for a moment.
Can he? Can he just this once have his cake and eat it, too?
sylus always answers your calls. always. no exceptions.
he could be in the middle of a gun fight or a messy interrogation but when he hears the inside joke of a ringtone he set for you, he uses his evol to shackle everyone in place while he answers, calm and collected as can be.
“kitten, it’s late in linkon — you should be sleeping. no, i’m not busy at the moment.” a cold glare is the only warning his enemies get to stay quiet. “what do you need?”
some of the world’s most powerful and feared men have had their final agonizing moments prolonged by listening to the leader of onychinus sweet-talk you.
Considering changing my blog title from "Certified Leander Kisser" to "Leander's Test Subject" bc tbf, i'd let this man do anything to me without any resistance or protest
This is an art work I recently finished for one of my moots (so the MC is hers not mine for this piece)
Image is blurred cuz it’s a commissioned piece.
I decided to design this Fantasy Black African inspired outfit and have her MC wear it for this piece. Now I’m thinking of drawing my MC in this Fit with Xavier, Rafayel and Zayne.
I just feel more comfortable having my MC in this style of outfit versus the original fits. Feels more authentic to *my* MC. Open to commissions.
I let Sylus dress himself today 🥹🫠🫦 if you want me boo just say that(he really do tho) I could totally see this man working in a host club...wait this gave me an idea 🤔
