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syluspeach · 4 days ago

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Oh dear

COME HERE BABY BOY

⭑ sylus is your biggest fan. ⭑

⭑ your blind date with sylus is going well. it turns out even better when he admits to you that he’s a fan of your livestreams. ౨ৎ

💌 ⁀➴ content warnings: 18+! lowercase intended. non-evol au. blind date sylus. glasses + mullet sylus. nervous & awkward sylus. babbling sylus. video game streamer reader. pet names (kitten, sweetie, gorgeous). mutual masturbation. dirty talk. spitting. praise. oral sex (s. + r. receiving).

💌 ⁀➴ wc: 4.8k (i got way too excited. i’m only human 🧍🏽‍♀️ you’ll see, y’all). song mention: fantasy. bazzi.

⭑ a note from 乇m! ⭑ so idk what came over me w this one but be prepared because once i started just couldn’t stop. the feral energy is on 10(thousand). also expect more submissive nervous glasses + mullet sylus in the near future. i can’t resist this man EVER.

💌 ⁀➴ thank you for reading! ౨ৎ

so far, sylus was your best blind date yet.

definitely your most attractive date—that, you knew for sure. and immediately. it took only that first glimpse of him, at his long, silken sweeps of angel silver hair, the dark, treasure red shade of his eyes, those gold-framed glasses, the grind of his jaw as he chewed at a wad of red gum, his broad chest, his taut, crossed arms, his towering height—every last one of his features proved more convincing and heart-rattling than the last.

the tension was immediate, too. the type that drizzled in your chest, oozing in careful, trickling rivulets that were too sticky to sponge away, from the moment you heard the resonance of his honeyed voice and caught the faint scent of cinnamon on his tounge as he pulled you in for the initial hug. you had to question whether you were still on the same planet as this man.

it was a simple picnic in the park. you shared soft sandwiches and fruit and chocolate and sweet teas, lounging together on a quilt, daisy-blossom blanket. he was a little shy, perhaps nervous. he did say this was the first blind date he’s ever agreed to. you found it endearing that this marble sculpture of a man had an awkward side, particularly around you.

if you talked for long enough, he would get distracted by one of your features, sometimes the petaled brush of your lashes or the white satin ribbon at the heart of your pink checkered sundress. hm? he would say, before clearing his throat and stuttering on his next breath when he asked you to repeat yourself. he had a pattern of looking down at the nearby flowerbed or savoring a bite of a strawberry whenever you giggled at something he said. he also had a much more dangerous pattern of tilting his brow, always in tandem with his quiet, dark-red smirk, within stints of patient silence, most often spent exchanging lingering, longing glances.

you refused to end the date casually. at the very least, you had to kiss this man. which is why, you invited him over to your place, making up some excuse about wanting him to try the sea salt caramel ice cream sandwiches you had stored away in your freezer, so he could try them for the first time—when, in all honesty, you wanted him to try you instead.

you really thought you were being strategic about it, too. sure, the two of you could’ve stayed in the kitchen like you were supposed to—but you wanted to change first, since your dress sinched pretty tight on your waist, and you preferred to wear something cozier while you were at home.

you invited him to your bedroom, under the guise that your bed was more comfortable than the living room couch, and maybe he could help you choose which tank top to wear while he waited. the cheetah-print one with baby pink straps and accents? or the cherry-print one with the word lover girl bedazzled in silver rhinestones across the chest? he picked the cherries, which didn’t surprise you.

you returned from the bathroom, in your cherry-scented baby tee, gray sweats, and an extra layer of candy pie lip gloss glittering your lips—but sylus was standing by the doorway, cracking his knuckles with this evasive look in his eyes. he looked more nervous than ever.

“everything okay?” you asked.

he didn’t answer. “i should tell you something."

you shrugged with a pleasant smile, warm and inviting. he snuck the words in behind an efforted sigh.

“i know you. from—” he hoarsed out another hard breath, “from your streams. i-i—i watch your streams."

your smile wouldn’t budge, and in fact could’ve flowered out of control had you not nipped it with your teeth. you glanced briefly at your desk in the far corner of the room, fitted with your warm body of a pc, neon starlight lighting, and a plush, strawberry pink gaming chair. it was completely cluttered—you forgot to organize everything after your last live—with powder puff headphones, your prismatic keyboard, cloudy daydream controllers from a recent sponsor, and trinkets of cats, desserts, bubbles, and stuffed video game plushies. there was no way of hiding it, but luckily, you never cared to.

“oh,” you said simply, "that’s fun. so you saw the setup and realized, or did it get too real all of a sudden?"

“no, you don’t understand, i—i really like your streams. i watch them, a-a lot. and i should’ve told you sooner but i just—you look unreal in person, and . . . but i couldn’t let things go too far without you knowing."

a feverish thrill warmed your heart for a moment—at the thought of this man, someone like sylus, watching your livestreams. laughing alongside you, eating dinner or washing the dishes or folding laundry with your voice echoing in the background, maybe even sending out a message in chat, hoping you would read it aloud and respond. was he subbed? has he gifted bits or used one of your emotes—this was going too far. if you let your thoughts spiral any longer, you may ask for his username.

“thanks for telling me, but i really couldn’t care less. i’m actually flattered. it’s really nice when someone enjoys what i do, you know?"

he blinked. then said, “you really don’t care?"

you shook your head softly. “i mean, as long as it’s not weird for you. it’s not like you’re a stalker since you were set up on this date with me. and you’re not one of those pervs who, i don’t know, jerks off to my voice or something. so it’s nothing."

his stare faltered, dark red eyes flickering to the side before returning to yours. his mouth shifted ever so slightly, on the brink of betraying whatever intrusive thought just came to mind.

“wait—woah, what was that look?"

“what?"

you could tell he was feigning innocence. “you know what i’m talking about. i saw that. what is it?"

“nothing,” he insisted meekly, “nothing, nothing."

“you don’t really jerk off to my voice, do you? now that i wanna know."

“no! no, seriously, i don’t do that, i just—"

he clamped his teeth down on his red gum again, squeezing out the flavor like a stress ball. you leaned back against the doorframe with crossed arms and a daring grin, nudging your tongue into your inner cheek. to this, he had to surrender.

“i’ve . . . i’ve thought about it—a-about you—"

you lurched forward. “about me?"

“never while you were streaming, but—but sometimes right after, o-or—"

your heart threatened to flip inside-out with a heavy, aching thump. there was no way. forget chuckling at your jokes or watching you instead of the tv or resubbing to your channel—your blind date, sylus, liked your livestreams so much that he got off on it afterwards.

“wait, really?"

he shook his head with a light scoff. “i know. it’s weird, and if you want me to leave, then—"

“no, i actually . . . i think it’s hot."

his stare tensed, sharpened by slanted brows and the slight narrow of his eyes. you reached for his wrist, then led him to the foot of your bed, gesturing for him to sit. he settled into the edge of your mattress with stiff, even shoulders, meanwhile you curled up in your desk chair, seated across from him. you hugged your legs to your chest with this slow, honey-sweet smile on your lips and a mischevious glint in your eye. sylus had your full attention now. and you, in return, had every last drop of his.

“so you really think about me, when you . . ."

he chuckled, cold and a bit dry. “how many times would you like me to say it? hm? why would i willingly admit this to you if it wasn’t true?"

you stretched your bottom lip a bit. “you haven’t said it exactly."

“so that’s it? you need to hear it? you need me to tell you outright that after i watch your streams, i have to stroke my dick in the shower until i cum for you? does that make it clearer?"

a thin glaze of lust syruped your daydream eyes. his cheeks flushed on cue, and the very tips of his ears burned blush red. he cleared his throat again, that nervous tic of his, and pinched his glasses further up his nose as he shifted in his jeans. your gaze followed the motion of his hand, targeting the tight, firm bulge prodding his dark pants. it looked thick and heavy. your mouth practically watered at the sight of it.

“you can’t look at me like that,” he breathed out, “fuck, i’ve never seen this—this primal look in your eyes, i . . . i-i think i should go."

“what if i wanna see? do you still think you should go?"

his lips parted silently, as his eyes lingered on the twirl of a strand of hair around your finger and the clench of your thighs closer together. he said nothing, for a short while.

you whispered, “you can say yes, sylus. you can leave."

“why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you propped your chin on your knee with a coquettish grin. “then can i see what you look like? please, sylus?"

“oh god,” he gritted out, as he palmed the crotch of his jeans.

“do you need help?"

he cleared the dryness in his throat, nearly coughing into his fist, and responded with a timid shake of his head. the pace of his breaths unsteadied as he worked at his belt. you swallowed hard when he tossed it aside on your marshmallow pink bedspread, heavy leather contrasting with your innocent, cloudlike comforter.

“the fuck is this?” he sighed to himself, hooking his zipper, “the fuck am i doing?"

“you can sit back. get comfortable,” you directed him.

he was so obedient to you that giving him instructions felt like waving a magic wand. this huge, divined-by-heaven masterpiece of a man was sitting back in your bed, prepared to reenact how he jerked off to the thought of you. you squeezed your thighs tighter, seeking friction to extinguish the fever between your legs.

then, a flutter fanned your pulsing heat when he finally pushed his pants down. a sticky wet spot stained the center of his boxers, directly above where his hard hill of a boner poked against the fabric. he rutted a thumb over it, and your hips nearly bucked at the same time.

with a heaving breath, he pulled at the waistband of his boxers until his cock breached in its full form, bowing forward with a delicious curve in the dim bedroom lightning. the length of him could easily upset your gag reflex, and his tip was so red and thick that you immediately envisioned how heavy it would feel on your tongue. dear god—your hearbeats started shredding through you. this had to be the most carnal response your body has had to the sight of a dick in years—maybe ever.

“wow,” you panted out. you couldn’t help yourself.

he chuckled, another one of those short, dry ones, murmuring quietly. “did you mean to say that? i—th-there’s just no way you saw my dick for the first time and said wow."

you drummed your bottom lip with your fingers, fidgeting—antsy. another tough swallow. then, “you’re—i-it’s pretty. and really hard."

his chest caved in with a harsh grunt when he gripped the head of it tighter, continuing to tease his rosy tip with sloppy swirls of his thumb. he clenched his eyes shut, which indented deep furrows between his heavy brows. his beauty was as soft and cursed as that of a fallen angel. you were fully convinced he may glow like a white, waning star when he came. you had to see it—needed to at this point.

a stuttered scoff tripped over his bottom lip. “’s always this hard. when it comes to you."

he held his breath when he committed to the first full stroke, then released a hasty sigh all at once as he slowed into a slow and steady rhythm. you were hypnotized by him already.

“need to spit on it?” you mumbled.

he nodded, at the same pace as his hand. he released to spit into his large palm, cupping around his mouth and letting it drip softly.

you spoke again as soon as he grasped the tip again. “can you do it again?"

he didn’t hesitate, allowing the spit to settle on his tongue for a second before spitting with a much louder, nastier splat for his hand. he stroked a bit faster that time, clenching tighter at the head, siphoning the room in slippery slicks and squelches. you shifted in your seat with the gracious part of your lips, tucking your foot under the gap in your bent leg.

“you liked that?” he gritted out.

“yeah—yeah, a lot,” you said through a dazed whisper.

a low growl slipped past his lips as his hand slowed for a sticky moment, only to quicken all over again.

“this is a fucking dream,” he murmured, “i can’t believe you want me to do this for you."

the motion of his thrusts distracted you for the following second. you were fixated on him—the stretch of his large, tense fingers, the weight of his crucifying length corded in thick veins, the dribble of pre-cum glistening from his tip like wet stardust. and still, for another lingering second, you couldn’t stop staring at his parted, spiced red lips, heart-shaped, pouty, and full. by the end of this, you would have to share the taste of hot cinnamon on his tongue.

“so this is what you do after my streams? when you think of me?” you asked.

“yeah,” he sighed, “i’m—but i’m nervous right now so usually i’m . . . louder."

you fought back your next intrusive thought by chewing at your bottom lip. you would have to get to that later. for now, you had to ask.

“what do you think about?"

he stifled his shallow groan with another chuckle. “take a guess."

“i want to know, c’mon. we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?"

you swiveled in your chair until you faced your desk, landing your gaze on your pink kitten-ear headphones. you fit them on immediately, then swiveled back.

“do i have these on?” you teased, in a toothache-sweet tone.

he sealed his eyes shut as soon as he caught a glimpse of you, sitting pretty and soft as a bow settling back into your padded pink chair. he expected you to look prettier in person, but not perfect.

“fuck,” he panted out right away, then again, higher-pitched and softer, “fuck. the fuck are you doing to me? you—you know what you’re doing."

“that's a yes?” you teased again.

“yes, yes, yes—god, what is it with you? really need me to say what you already know? of course i picture you in those cute little headphones. in that chair, too. wearing one of those sexy tank tops you’re wearing now. or your favorite hoodie—w-with your hair back and those—those kitten knee socks."

he dipped his head back further against the headboard as he fucked his fist faster, never missing a beat, rubbing in the glossy-coat gleaming the fat shape of his cock. you stared, shamelessly, at the chisel of abs peeking beneath his ridden-up t-shirt, the flex of his jaw as he gritted his teeth, the lustful shade of dark red in his eyes whenever his eyelids fluttered apart to look at you—he was pure architecture.

“you keep—" he braved another groan, paired with a deep shudder of his hips, “you keep biting your lip like that. i-it’s driving me fucking crazy. my cock twitches every time you do that on stream. when you’re focusing on a level or reading messages to yourself. it’s so cute. so fucking sexy."

“thank you,” you whispered, “you like seeing it live and in person? you like knowing that i’m biting my lip for you?"

his next moan was the softest and whiniest yet—it was so sinful and pathetic that you nearly let out your own satisfied sigh.

“picture you doing that while i fuck you in that chair. l-looking back at me and biting your lip just like that. i would cum on the spot."

his confession winded you. you didn’t realize how breathless it left you until you spoke again.

“might have to touch myself too if you keep talking like that."

the momentum of his strokes hiccuped at the base, then stalled on his way up to the tip again. he glanced down at your sweats with a dangerous flicker of his eyes.

“do you want to?” he asked, dark and slow.

you hesitated, though you needed little time to fully consider it. your heart knew first and foremost, and thumped faster, desperately, the longer you thought about it.

you gestured to your pants. “is it okay if i take these off?”

"you’re serious?” he snickered.

you responded by sliding your waistband over your hips, revealing your baby doll yellow lace panties. his breath hitched, at the same time that you released an airy, meek sigh when your sweats crumpled to the floor. then, he had to stop touching himself entirely when you parted your legs for him, revealing the wet patch soaking through your delicate little underwear.

he winced through his teeth with his eyes screwed shut, bunching your covers in his fist to distract the urge of his hand to finish him off.

“you’re f-fucking with me. watching me couldn’t have made you that wet."

you couldn’t resist touching yourself as soon as the draft in the room brushed over your sensitive heat. you would usually taunt yourself a bit first instead of giving in right away, but you felt taunted this whole time, by restraining the urge to slip your hand down your pants, to spit on his cock for him, to kiss him with reckless abandon after and jerk his cock with him. you convulsed in your seat with a wrecked whine, circling your clit harder as visions of these thoughts blurred through your mind one after the other.

sylus’s eyes widened, fixated on the sloppy, slick noises sputtering from your core, from the mesh of your fingers smearing liquid glitter all over your hot clit. he grappled with his cock again, like it was a reflex, starting with long, deep strokes before resorting to rushed pumps of his swollen tip. you spread your legs wider, plucked the petals of your own rosebud faster, writhed and shivered with another gentle moan.

“look at you. listen to you,” he said through a rugged breath, “you want me to cum right now, don’t you? pushing me to the edge with those fucking sounds."

“have—" you hiccuped on another gasp, “have you thought about this, too?"

“yeah, yeah,” he choked out, “just like this. in that—right in your chair. i’m—you really have no idea how hard i’m trying not to cum right now, kitten. i . . . can i call you that?"

you nodded, frantically. “yes. fuck, that’s hot."

as if he couldn’t help himself, he rutted into his hand faster. the sounds of his dick pumping in and out of his fist were truly filthy—and you were lapping it up with wild, feverish swipes of your fingers, cutting corners and pressing hard and deep against the aching pulse beneath your underwear.

you watched closely as he tugged his length quicker by the second, knobbing his thumb over his leaking cockhead with a cruel, punishing grip. he was art to you.

another moan fluttered from your lips swollen with teeth marks.

“moan for me like that again. please, please—“ he gritted out, “you’re just—you’re unreal. you’re gorgeous. you’re a dream. you’re my dream girl and you’re letting me stroke my cock in your bed while i watch you touch yourself, fuck . . . "

you bucked your hips into your own hand. god, you wanted every part of this man. seeing and hearing him wasn’t enough anymore. you needed to touch him—to taste him. the thought of catching his load by the end of this overcame you, and suddenly, you had to squish your fingers into your tight, flexing hole and press and swish at the gooey bundle of fruit throbbing inside of you.

“yeah, fuck yourself with your fingers,” he coaxed you, with a shuddering groan that traced a shiver down your spine, “finger yourself just like that while i fuck up into my hand. can’t wait to cum for you, kitten."

“i really want you to cum for me,” you mewled back, “i want to cum for you too, sylus."

he submitted to a breathless whimper. “the way you moan my name. kitten, i’m too close. i need you to cum first, can—can i put my mouth on it?"

“please?” you sighed.

he refused to hesitate. he slid off the bed instantly, rushing toward you. you knew better than to move from the chair, and propped your feet on the arm rests when he kneeled in front of you. you let out a sharp breath when he hooked your panties to the side, arching back into the chair as his breath breezed over your naked clit.

“please, sylus—” you whined.

“it’s okay, sweetie. you don’t have to do it yourself anymore. let me do it for you."

he tensed his mouth to water his tongue with spit, then hocked it directly onto your hole with a heartless splatter. you were already so close to cumming from that alone, but especially when he took off his glasses and tossed them onto your desk before savoring the first taste of you, honing in dead-center on your glistening core.

you jolted when his nose nudged your clit, clawing your nails through his soft, angel-feather hair to pull him in deeper. his bristled groan reverberated through you as he slurped and suckled you like holy water, or cherry-flavored love potions, or the elixir of life dripped from your suctioning center. dear god—you knew he was heaven. and you already knew this was the fastest you would cum for anyone.

“this isn’t real,” he sighed against you, in between wags of his tongue over your clit and deep, longing sweeps of his tongue burrowing into your core, “this pussy isn’t real. the taste—the smell . . . so good. so needy."

“mm-hmm,” you drew out, crossing your eyes with the neediest little pout, “sylus—s-sylus, you’re . . . you’re so good to me."

the unmistakable squelch of his hand squeezing his cock all over again rippled through you. as soon as you heard it, you were right there.

“oh—that’s gonna make me cum. god, i’m gonna cum. ’m gonna cum for you."

he rotated his head in slow, fluid circles to ensure that his tongue could lather the entirety of your wet, cunning heat, darting over your clit and seeping into your gleaming hole in cruel, ruthless circles like a hurricane. you couldn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.

not to mention the way he babbled to you to the very end, especially since, up until this point, you knew sylus as your reserved, slightly awkward blind date who never had too much to say. you were a goner.

“yeah, shake on my tongue. shake and squirm and writhe on my tongue. let me taste it. let me have it. need it just as much as you, sweetie."

your lips parted into a soft o as your eyes crossed again, blinded by stars when your orgasm ruptured you to the core. you were a lovely little mess—of whiny moans and lightheaded breaths and the molten, wet heat glistening from your inner thighs as you clenched for sylus’s mouth.

you didn’t even know he was watching you until he starved out, “fuck, roll your eyes back like that. cum just like that for me, kitten."

none of your internal organs would sit still, fevered and running rampant as you unleashed everything hot and sweet and satisifed within you that melted and stickied his cinnamon lips. when he pulled back for a breath, a sheen of wet hot glitter soaked his mouth. he was a very ravenous, untidy eater, that’s for sure. he also, you just noticed, hadn’t stopped pumping his dick underneath your chair.

“can i cum for you now?” he groaned like a plea. “please? you’re everywhere, sweetie."

“here,” you insisted, tucking your legs to kneel in your seat, “here, in my mouth."

when he stood, he had to steady his hands over the top of your chair so he wouldn’t crumple back down to his knees.

“i still can’t believe this,” he panted, “you’re gonna put my dick in your mouth. i won’t be able to last, kitten. i’ve—i’ve thought about it too much."

“i’ll go slow,” you said, propping your hands on his hips, “is that what you want?"

“i just want you. any way you’ll have me, i promise."

a flutter brushstroked your clit. shit—you could cum for him all over again if he’d let you. but you had been far too patient all evening, denying yourself the pleasure of his cock weighing hard and heavy on your coated tongue.

you didn’t bother with teasing licks or pecks or strokes of your hand that mimiced his grappling thrusts. you took him in as far as you could, nearly choking around him if you didn’t slow down when he stretched the shape of your mouth just right. he was even thicker than you imagined, sliding salty-sweet down the length of your tongue, consuming the majority of its width, easily tipping into the back of your warm, clutching throat. both of you whined in unison. it should’ve been impossible for every part of him to feel this good.

he pushed out a winding breath, that swerved into a rutted groan when you started shucking your suctioned lips up and down, up and down his full shaft. your heart-shaped ass clapped down on your heels as you rocked forward and back, richocheting your tits held tight by your tiny cherry tank top, batting your mascara-wet lashes as you looked up at him.

“uhn—uhn,” he whimpered out, “mmph—look at those eyes. those—mmph—those fucking headphones, and—uhn, that mouth, you’re trying to kill me. what is this? you want me dead, gorgeous."

you took him in faster, purposely flexing your throat to pinch at his tip whenever he reached the back of your throat. he bowed over you as you twisted one fist, then two, on the same path and rhythm as your mouth, sacrificing your need to breathe just to suck his cock like you were seeking revenge of some sort.

“fuck—uhn, can’t take this. i know it’s only been a second, but-but i have to cum. i’m cumming, shit—"

with one last rasped whine, and the tilt of his head all the way back, he erupted in thick, gluey spurts on your tongue. you swallowed him down hungrily, greedily, chugging his load without stopping the fluid motion of your slippery mouth up and down.

he quivered out his last few moans as you sucked him dry. “taking it all—you’re taking it all—uhn—fuck, yeah. yeah, sweetie. cu—hmph—cumming down your throat while you sit in your desk chair. this is a fucking dream."

you sat back when he set his hand on your shoulder, signaling that he was too sensitive. playfully, you flashed your tongue at him, hoping to win him with a chuckle or, more particularly, a good kitten.

but you earned more than you anticipated when he bowed over you, cupped your chin, and drew you in for a longing, passionate kiss that activated all of your nerves at once. his mouth was insatiable, lips soft but firm as they pinched your top lip, then bottom lip, before parting to kiss you deeply, sledding his tongue over yours to elicit one of your sweetest breaths.

he pulled back, recovering with a breath. “sorry,” he said, “couldn’t stop thinking about it."

you returned a flustered grin. “me too."

the corners of his mouth ticked up into a smirk, and you knew one of his signature brow tilts would follow soon after. he huffed out another breath as he gazed down at you.

then, he spoke again. “when can i see you again? i’m still having a hard time believing what just happened."

you swayed in your chair, pivoting back once you found his glasses on the desk. you rose upright until you were tall enough to slip them over his eyes for him. when you smiled at him, his grin settled in, curving sharper at the edges. you would have to use whatever magic you had over him to do that much more often.

“you’ll see me on stream tomorrow, remember?"

ꪆৎ⭑ 乇m’s masterlist! in case you’re interested in my other works!

#Shy Sylus my beloved #🫧syluspeach fic recs🫧

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syluspeach · 5 days ago

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I think it's time I learn how to make a masterlist

But what if it comes out ugly

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syluspeach · 5 days ago

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STAY🤺BACK🤺CALEB

WHY IS HE ALWAYS IN A FREAKY MOOD(same tbh)

#caleb xia #l&ds caleb #lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #lads thoughts #love and deepspace #love and deepspace meme #l&ds meme #love and deepspace memes #lads memes #lads #lnds #l&ds #Caleb meme #Caleb memes

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syluspeach · 7 days ago

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Corrupt priest!Sylus punishes nun!reader…+18(mdni)

Your first mistake was speaking to the new kid in town who went by the name of Caleb.

Your second mistake was believing Father Sylus wouldn’t reprimand you for merely doing what the church asked of you. After the Lord’s Prayer was said, it was customary to shake hands with those sitting around you, otherwise known as the Sign of Peace. Unfortunately, Caleb took that as an opportunity to keep speaking to you.

Out of the corner of his eye while sharing the body of Christ with the others, Sylus watched as the boy leaned against the back of the pew you occupied. Your body angled comfortably to look over your shoulder at him. Whatever he was saying, made you giggle, your hand coming up to hide your smile.

That sparkling look in your eye was meant for Sylus alone. Your neatly pressed white gown and habit should have been taken as a sign that you belonged to him. No other man would gain access to the sweet little body cloaked underneath. Especially your heart and cunt.

As the white collar Sylus wore signified he was a pure man in the eyes of the lord, only he would be allowed into the sacred temple that was your body.

︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶

You had been tucked safely under your powdered blue comforter, far away in dreamland, when you were roughly awoken. Your billowy sheets lay trampled on the floor as your bicep was secured in Father Sylus’ grip.

His pace through the dimmed hallways was fast, your bare feet slapping against the tiled flooring as you tried to keep up with him.

“Father Sylus-”

“Quiet.” He whispered through clenched teeth.

He’d get to say his part once you two were away from the others who were fast asleep. He’d take you to the very scene of the crime.

Shoving a wooden door open with his broad shoulder, he led you down the empty nave before dropping you unceremoniously onto the pew you had been occupying earlier. Where you had the gall to chit-chat with some filthy boy, right before his very eyes.

Your breathing was labored, the commotion of what had just occurred catching you off guard. With a hand clasping the collar of your white nightgown, you caught your breath, swallowing as you watched Father Sylus, who stood in front of you with his hands on his waist.

“You have disappointed me immensely, pretty bird.”

Your eyes tingled with unshed tears, bottom lip trembling.

“What have-I don’t understand.” Your brows furrowed as you recalled the day. “I…I made sure all the spare Bibles were put away and the leftover wine was properly disposed of. The chalice was cleaned and returned to the altar. I even…I stood behind you as you led the procession outside.”

His fingers twitched as the need to grab and shake you filled every inch of him. Unfortunately, you were too sweet and pure for your own good. Yet, it was what he loved about you. It allowed him to have you wrapped around his finger.

It was in your nature, the need for him to praise you. Ever since he had arrived at the church, you had been head over heels for him. How could you not when he was as charming as he was pretty. You were just a silly girl with a crush.

The weight of his gaze was agonizing. He said nothing, but the smoldering look in his eyes was enough to make you look away, tucking your face against your shoulder as if that would keep you safe from him.

“During the noon mass, you seemed to have forgotten your place.”

When you failed to look at him, his resolve snapped and his hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye. You whined at his sudden harshness, your hand coming to hold onto his wrist.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about that boy from earlier? You seemed to enjoy his company during the communion. All smiles and warm cheeks, little bird.” He paused, hand trailing down from your jaw to the thin strap of your nightgown. He toyed with the material, deliberately brushing his long fingers against your warm skin. “You need to be set straight. Otherwise, the lord won’t forgive your offenses.”

He was unapologetic in the way he maneuvered you into position. Fingers gripping your skin in a way that symbolized not only his control, but his ownership. He'd be damned if anyone else treated you this way. It was his right.

With your chest facing the backrest of the pew, your knees dug into the polished wood, fingers curling over the top rail to keep yourself steady. You let out a squeal when the skirt of your gown was lifted, bare bottom exposed to the male’s greedy eyes.

He took in your unblemished skin, his slacks tightening around his cock. Such a shame he'd be soiling it.

“Father, please! What-”

“Perhaps, I've been too lenient with you as now you're speaking out of turn.”

A yelp echoed through the empty church as something heavy and cold met the warm skin of your ass. When you dared to look behind you, Sylus’ large hand slipped into your hair, the grip forcing you to bow your head.

“I expect a perfect recitation of Hail Mary.”

It took you a moment to straighten out your thoughts, allowing him to land multiple smacks on your poor skin. Though shaky, and interrupted by your cries, Sylus made sure every word was pronounced correctly.

“…and blessed is the fruit of the wo-”

Smack. Smack.

The hit on each cheek was precise and calculated, stinging more than the rest.

“Thy womb. Damn boy has you with your head in the clouds.”

You don't know what it was, but your body responded in a way that confused you. There was a warmth spreading through your belly and a wetness between your thighs. This hadn't occurred in your life until meeting Sylus. Even through the stinging pain, you would never admit you liked it.

Finishing the prayer, you received one last spank, a breath leaving you before you started full-fledged wailing.

“Please, Father Sylus, forgive me! Have mercy!” You turned around, knees blazing with pain from the pressure against the pew.

Oh, how beautiful you looked in Sylus’ eyes. All tear-stained cheeks and glossy-eyed.

When you reached for him, he dropped the cross he had used to mark your skin and embraced you. You cried in his arms, sobs muffled by his neck.

He savored the feeling of your heat against his. Adjusting his grip, he lifted you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Shh, there there, little bird. You did a wonderful job.”

He cooed as he caressed the burning skin of your bottom with his hand. He knew you would have a hard time sitting for the next few days, so he couldn't help but smirk. You would need him to soothe the pain, and he was more than willing to lather your skin with healing ointment.

When your cry eventually stopped and you settled in his embrace, Sylus’ attention zeroed in on the warm wetness between your thighs that was soaking through his black button-up and onto his abs.

You gasped when he trailed his hand from your ass to your soiled folds. A pleased hum rumbled deep from his chest, your arms tightening around him as he spread the wetness from your tight hole to the little bundle of nerves that had your hips bucking.

You must have pleased him as you were rewarded with a generous kiss on your temple.

“Who would have thought, my pretty little bird, would turn out to be so filthy.”

I skipped a scene where he f*cks her on the altar but that just means I might have to do a part 2 hehehe

Also, I don’t want to hear that he’s ooc(i already know that)

Tagging list:

@theplaid-wearingmoose @dilf-destroyer-04 @mcdepressed290

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syluspeach · 8 days ago

Text

Saw this on X and thought of Sylus with his kitten

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syluspeach · 8 days ago

Note

I NEED THEM SO BAD

Reader who can’t cum pretty please 🙏

Squirtings good tho~

LADS men helping you squirt ! ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

a/n: idk how everyone out there does these kinda prompts without it sounding like copy paste 😿 i have a newfound respect for u guys. I TRIED! and ik these were fast paced. sorry. also, did research, and u CAN squirt w out cumming!

context: you have a condition (medical or it's just hard, you decide)in which you can't come. you tell the boys and they insist they can take care of you <3

p.s. idk rafayel that well 😞 and i had another request similar to this one "they make you squirt for the first time I beg of thee <33" if that was u and u still want that after this pls let me know!

Caleb <3 !

Caleb lets out a shudder when your hand wanders down to the bulge in his pants. For weeks, this was your routine.

Messy make-outs, eager handjobs or sometimes blowjob, Caleb trying to return the favor and you nudging him away.

"N-no, not today," Caleb manages, gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it away.

You frown, your hand tensing slightly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Caleb swallows thickly, his cock giving a twitch of protest when he rests your hand at your side. "Not at all. I just—I feel bad."

"Why? I really want to, Caleb."

Caleb has to will himself not to give in to the way you say his name. "No, it's not that... I just can never return the favor."

He sees the flash of panic that passes through your eyes and quickly continues, "Which is fine! I don't have to touch you if you don't want me to, I just think we should give this a break for a little."

You glance down at the sheets, your face burning with shame. Both, at what you're hiding and the fact that he won't let you touch him.

Caleb scoots closer. "Hey, I really want you to touch me. Really, I do, it just doesn't feel fair."

You take a small breath, then softly murmur, "I can't come."

Caleb's brows furrow. "What?"

"I can't come," you repeat, heart beating wildly in your chest. "I've tried everything, I just can't. That's why I don't let you return the favor. You literally can't."

Caleb blinks. Then, utters a soft, "Oh."

It's quiet for a beat until he speaks up again.

"So, does it not feel good?" His voice is curious, not accusatory. "'Cus when you touch me it... It seems like you like it, but if you don't I don't want you to fa—"

"No!" you blurt out, a furious blush coloring your cheeks. "I like it. I like it a lot. I still feel pleasure, I just can't come."

Caleb lets out a soft breath, almost like it was meant to be a laugh but he subtly covered it up. "So... do you want me to touch you?"

You chew your lip, your body screaming a wordless yes even as you shake your head. "I can't come."

"That's not what I asked."

You take a second. "Yes.."

Caleb smiles, slipping his hand down your waist and tugging you closer until your stomach is pressed to his. "I can touch you all day and night if that's what you want. I don't care if you don't come."

"Your wrist will hurt."

He can't help the laugh that slips out at your warning. "Do you want me to, Pips?"

You nod again and he slowly slips his hand under the fabric of your underwear, teasing his fingers through your slick.

You can't help buck into his hand and Caleb sighs. "I could've done this sooner.. God, you've been so needy, huh?"

When you nod, he eases a finger in. There's almost no resistance and that makes his dick jump.

"I'll take care of you. I'll go as long as you want," he pushes a second finger in, "as hard or soft as you want." He starts pumping slowly, drinking in your expressions.

Your face pinches in pleasure, hands clinging to him as he effortlessly reaches that spot that makes your toes curl.

"This still okay?"

You nod, chest rising and falling with your uneven breaths. "Mhmm.. It feels—different.."

Caleb nudges his fingers deeper, rubbing along that spongy spot inside you. "Here?"

"Yes, Caleb!"

He gives a soft moan at how perfectly you squeeze around him when he rubs over that sweet spot. "Want me to keep touching you here? Or do you want to try something else?"

"Mmn! I–I don't know!" you gasp, your body arching into his touch against your will.

Caleb slows down, gently rolling you over so you can lie on your back. "I won't do anything you don't want. You tell me what you need, alright, Pips?" He leans down to capture your lips.

You can't even return it properly, too focused on the way your stomach curls and your hips jerk every time he pushes his fingers in. Was that normal?

"Why does it feel like I'm gonna—wait–" You bring your arms around his neck and hug him close. "Caleb, it feels like I'm gonna—"

"That's normal," Caleb says, slowing down just a fraction. "You're doing good."

But he keeps hitting that spot. Keeps the same pressure, the same speed, the same angle and it makes you think you might actually pee.

Wait, you think you are.

You can't even tell him to stop before you're making a mess all over him.

"I'm.. hnn.. I'm sorry, Caleb!" you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut and hiding your face in his neck as if that might erase the pure mortification of whatever the hell you just did.

Caleb inhales sharply, easing his out fingers to rub languid circles over your clit. "Shit. You—you're so pretty."

Your ears burn.

"Don't say that.."

"Why not?"

"I didn't... pee?"

"No," he responds, kissing the top of your head. "That was something else and you—" he breaks off on a groan, trying to withstand the urge to grind himself into your leg. "You were.. so perfect."

Caleb carefully pulls back to look at you. "Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

You can still feel him stroking you in small circles, and despite how overwhelming that was, you don't want to stop.

"Can we... keep going?"

Caleb nearly shudders. "Anything for you, princess."

Zayne <3 !

Zayne presses a fervent kiss to your jaw, his hand slowly drifting lower. Down your stomach, and stopping at the waistband of your panties.

You squirm, your cheeks flushing as you grip his wrist. "Wait.."

Zayne instantly draws his hand back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I got ahead of myself."

"No, no, not at all.. It's just.." You pause, your chest tightening.

"What is it?" Zayne's about to shift away from you when suddenly you cling to his shoulder and pull him back.

He flinches slightly, but he doesn't resist. "It's alright," he starts again. "We can simply—"

"I can't, Zayne."

Zayne blinks once. Then he nods. "I know. It's okay, we don't need to do this. We can—"

"No, Zayne.." You sigh, your whole body burning with embarrassment. "Touching me is pointless. I can't... I can't... come."

Zayne opens his mouth, then closes it again. Did he hear that right? You can't.. come?

"You have anorgasmia?"

You flush. You're not even sure what that word means, but the fact that you're even having this conversation—with Zayne of all people—is making it hard to breathe.

"I don't—I don't know." You shift uncomfortably, your hand squeezing around his shoulder. "I've tried. But I just can't."

Zayne looks at you thoughtfully. Then gently, he says, "Pleasure doesn't always need a climax. But if you don't want—"

"I want to," you quickly say, arching into him despite yourself. "I just didn't think you'd want to since I can't..."

Zayne lets out a soft breath through his nose as he leans down to press his lips against yours. "You know me better than that, don't you?" he murmurs.

You give him a weak nod and kiss him back, gently guiding his hand back between your legs.

Zayne's breath hitches, but he doesn't hesitate.

He starts rubbing you through your clothes, drinking in the soft sighs that come tumbling out when he puts just the right amount of pressure.

"Don't feel like you need to perform for me," he reminds quietly. "I'm not doing this to make you cum." He kisses you slower, matching the pace of his fingers.

"I'm doing this to make you feel good."

You sigh, your hips bucking into his hand. You can't help it. Some part of you wishes he would stop. You two could be at this for hours and you wouldn't finish. But another part of you is screaming at him to continue. To go further.

Almost as if he read your mind, Zayne carefully helps you out of your panties and nudges them aside.

You bite your lip, your face flushing as he stares down at you with pure adoration. He drags his hand down your stomach, then lower.

He runs his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, watching as your thighs twitch around him, like your body can't decide whether to squirm away or pull him closer.

"Relax," he coaxes. "I'll be gentle."

Zayne circles your clit firmly.

"This still feels good, doesn't it?" When your hips come off the bed in confirmation, Zayne smiles. "Good." He rubs faster, absorbing every shift and twitch like it's scripture.

"I won't—I can't come," you remind him, even as your body melts into his touch.

Zayne shakes his head. "Shh. This isn't about making you come. Just enjoy it."

You give a barely-there nod. Then slowly, carefully, you feel him push a finger in. You gasp, your hands fisting in the sheets.

"Is it too much?"

"No. No, it feels good."

Zayne nods, gently pulling his finger out, then pushing back in. He does it over and over again, making sure you're relaxed before he adds another finger.

"Is this still good?"

"Yes," you breathe out, wiggling your hips. "Please don't stop."

Zayne's breath catches in his throat as he pumps his fingers in your slick heat. He could stay here forever, listening to you, feeling you.

He lets out a soft groan, sinking in deeper.

The pressure makes your stomach tighten. He keeps hitting that weird, spongy spot inside that makes your whole body ache. You can't even keep your moans down long enough to ask him to wait.

Your thighs tremble and Zayne stills when a sudden gush of wetness spills against his fingers, down your thighs, and onto the mattress.

For a second, you're frozen. Humiliated. You've never done that—whatever that was. You glance up at Zayne, mortified, but his eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You..—"

You squirm, your face flushing. "I'm sorry—"

Zayne shakes his head and surges down, capturing your lips with his. "Don't apologize. I don't want you to hold back with me."

You kiss back, your heart still pounding in your ears. "Was that..?"

"No. It's different," he murmurs against your lips. "But did it feel okay?"

You hum against his lips.

"Do you want to continue?" he asks, his fingers flexing inside you.

Yes.

Yes. Everything in you is screaming at him to please continue, but you just shake your head. "No, that was good."

Zayne stares, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Is that what you want?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "No..."

"What do you want, then?" Zayne shifts his fingers, the wet sound making your face burn. "Use your words."

"I want you to continue," you whisper.

Zayne hums, his lips twitching with a subtle smile as he leans up to press a small kiss to your forehead. "That's better."

Xavier <3 !

Xavier snuggles into your boobs, inhaling you like you're the only air he'll ever need. You sight softly, heat dripping low in your stomach despite your best efforts to keep your horny thoughts at bay.

"Xav.."

"Yes?" he murmurs, blinking up between your breasts.

The sight forces you to tear your eyes away. He's too good at this—the whole innocent 'I'm-just-resting-my-head-here' act when you know what he really wants.

"You're being naughty."

"No, I'm not." He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your chest again, his hands coming up to palm your breasts.

You'd been holding back with Xavier weeks given your... issues and he never questioned it too much. He was content with just kissing you, but he did get a little needy every now and then.

Like now.

You stare down and feel a pang of guilt. He's been so patient. Even when he wants it so much. You can feel it—physically feel how much he wants you when you two kiss and you're sitting in his lap.

You sigh, raking your hand through his hair. "Hey, Xavier."

"Mmn?"

"I'm sorry we haven't... gotten physical."

You mentally cringe.

"Don't apologize for that. This is good," Xavier hums, pressing a reverent kiss to your chest, the warmth of his lips seeping through the fabric of your shirt. "This is really good."

"But.. do you want more?"

Xavier looks up, blinking, like he can't decide whether this is a trick question or something you want an answer to.

"Um... I.. Is this a trick question?"

You give a rueful little smile. "No. Be honest."

"I mean, doing more with you would be nice. But I don't need it. I'm perfectly fine like this."

The ache between his legs might beg to differ, but he would never guilt you into doing something with him.

You stay silent, fidgeting with his messy hair.

Xavier immediately sits up when you don't say anything. "Did I say something wrong? Was that actually a trick question?"

You shake your head. "I just—I want to do things with you, Xavier... but... I can't come."

Now Xavier's silent. He wasn't expecting that.

"Oh. Do you know why?"

"No," you murmur. "I've tried everything. Nothing works. I even tried toys."

Xavier's face flushes at the mention of toys, eyes darting around like he's trying to find their hiding spots. Then, quickly he forces his eyes back to you. Now isn't the time to look for your secret dildos or whatever it is you tried.

"Oh," he says again, his chest tightening. "That's.. fine."

You pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you still feel good when you do... things?"

Your cheeks warm as you nod. "I just—I've never tried anything with you because it would be useless. I wouldn't—you know?"

The thought makes his cock twitch traitorously. Xavier shifts awkwardly, slowly crawling back over you. "I could still make you feel good, if you want me to."

He slides his hand down your waist and squeezes like it's the only thing keeping him from crumbling.

"Even though I wouldn't...?"

"It doesn't matter. I would do anything you want for as long as you want," Xavier insists. And he means it with every fiber of his being.

Your heart stutters and heat rushes between your legs.

"Is there anything you'd want to try?" Carefully, he dips his hand down your stomach, stopping between your thighs, his touch light. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure..?"

Xavier nods. "Positive."

Your body lights up at his answer, your head already swimming with all the things you've wanted him to do. But one thing sticks out.

Shyly, you start, "Would you... go down on me?"

Xavier can't bite back the strangled sound that comes out. "Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I would go down on you."

He slips his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear, waiting. "Can I?"

You nod, watching with clouded eyes as Xavier gently pulls your clothes off and dips his head between your legs. He pulls your legs over his shoulder and when you feel his breath on your needy heat, you think you want to keep him there forever.

He kisses you—soft at first, then harder. You just taste so good. Musky, a little sweet, too.

He wraps his hands around your thighs and starts eating you out like a man starved. You gasp, shooting your hand down to tangle in his hair.

"Xavier!"

He hums in response, the vibration making your toes curl. You didn't expect it to be so good, but it is. So, so good.

You roll your hips, unable to stop it and Xavier groans when he feels you. He even pulls your thighs to guide you on his face.

The sounds you two make are obscene. Wet, sloppy squelches, groans, and sighs that are borderline pornographic. It's something you never thought you'd experience.

And when Xavier slowly eases two fingers in, you nearly cry. How can he even reach that deep?

"Oh, God! X-xavier! You—You're—!"

He gives you slow pumps, his tongue working your clit at the same time. And when he curls his fingers, your hips jump.

"W-wait! Why does that feel so—?"

You can barely speak before he's doing it again. And again. And again. And again. You're a squirming mess, hips chasing his mouth and fingers.

"Xavier...! Wait I think I might—!"

Xavier moans when he feels you spill against him. But you're desperately trying to twist away from him, embarrassment stinging your cheeks.

You gasp. "Oh my god, did I just— I’m sorry, that was so gross—"

Xavier slowly eases away, chin and lips glistening with your arousal. He wipes it away, pupils blown wide pure adoration.

You can't even look at him, but you're still blurting out apologies like that might erase the mess you just made.

"Gross?" He breaths out an incredulous sound. "Are you kidding?"

You swallow hard. "It wasn't—?"

Xavier makes an incredulous sound. "That was the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"W-what?"

"I loved it." He notes the way you're squeezing your knees together and feels a pang of guilt. "Were you enjoying yourself?"

You take a moment before giving a shy nod. "Yes. I just.. wasn't expecting that. Were you okay with that?"

"More than okay," he immediately answers.

"But that wasn't coming, was it?"

Xavier shakes his head. "No, not quite. You're sure it felt okay, though?"

"Mhmm.."

"Then, is it okay if I stay a little longer?" Xavier asks, sliding his hand over your knee.

Yes! You want to greedily pull him back down, but you see the way his chest falls and rises a little too quickly. "Don't you need a break?"

"No." He leans closer. "I don't need a break unless you do."

Your stomach flutters. "I don't need a break yet."

Xavier smiles, gently prying your legs apart and lowering his face between them again. "Then neither do I."

Sylus <3 !

"Something's been bothering you," Sylus says between kisses, his hands dragging up your sides and squeezing like he can't help it.

You sigh, arching into him. "What are you talking about?"

He presses a soft kiss to your head before pulling back. "Whenever we get intimate, you tense up." He cups your face, rubbing a soothing circle over your cheek before letting his fall to his side.

"You can tell me if this isn't what you want, sweetie. You always can."

You nod, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down as if to prove your point when you say, "I know... It's not that though."

Sylus chuckles when he feels you close your arm around his neck. "All right then. What is it?" He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. Soft. Slow.

You smile, chest squeezing at the way his eyes never leave yours. "It's embarrassing.."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed of. Tell me what's on your mind."

You swallow hard, bracing yourself. "Um.. I really want to do stuff with you.. But I can't..."

Sylus quirks a brow, but he doesn't look accusing or judging; he is just curious. "Say more..."

"I can't.. come.."

There’s a beat of silence. A slow, terrifying beat, before Sylus finally nods in acknowledgment. "All right.. Do you want to talk about that more?"

Your cheeks burn an embarrassing red, but despite the heat, you still feel an odd sense of comfort. So, with a shaky breath, you start, "I still feel good. But there's just... no finish."

"No release," Sylus echoes, and you nod.

Sylus hums, nibbling on your knuckle. "So that's what it is? You don't want to burden me?"

You give a shy nod and Sylus almost can't help the scoff that slips past his lips. You frown, about to ask him what he's making that sound from when he leans down and kisses you. "You could never be a burden to me. In or out of bed."

You gasp against his lips.

"But—"

"No buts. Do you want to feel good?"

"..Yes."

"Then let me make you feel good."

–

The next time you see Sylus he pulls out a velvet-wrapped box, intricate designs engraved on its side.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you stare down at it, cheeks flushing like you already know what's inside.

"What's this?"

"These are options," he says, watching with an amused little smile as you slowly open the box. Inside are lubes, oils, and a few dildos. They look beginner-friendly, but it doesn't stop your mind from spinning.

"You don’t have to do anything tonight. Just… options for you, if you ever feel curious. I want you to feel safe."

You tentatively pull an oil out. "What's this?"

Sylus grins, his chest warming at the way your lips part with curiosity. "It's meant to enhance your pleasure."

Then slowly, you pull out the dildo. It's not as intimidating as you thought it'd be—It's actually a cute pink, not too big or too small, with a few ridges lining the side.

"Again, you don't have to try that."

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. "I want to."

Sylus's lips twitch with a smirk. "You do?"

You nod, tapping the oil. "And... this too."

Sylus nudges the box aside and kisses the top of your head. "Tell me if you ever want to stop. This oil can be overwhelming at first."

You let him guide you onto your back and strip you down—slow and gentle. Like he would stay in this moment forever if you let him.

Then slowly, he rubs the oil on your clit, his touch making your back arch. Sylus smiles. "Does it feel good, sweetie?"

"Mhm."

"It'll take a few minutes to kick in, but in the meantime, we can explore with this." You watch, your stomach fluttering as Sylus applies a generous amount of lube on the toy, then gently nudges it at your entrance.

He watches every shift, careful not to hurt you.

And when he pushes it deeper, your little mewl makes him twitch in his pants.

"How does this feel, sweetie? Do you want more?"

You gasp, clutching his arm. "Yes, please!"

He presses deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. The second you start squirming your hips, he gently starts pumping the toy in and out, gauging your reactions. At the same time, he reaches down and starts rubbing firm circles over the achy bud between your legs.

You squeeze his arm tighter, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"Talk to me," he breathes. "Is it too much?"

You furiously shook your head. "No! Please don't stop!"

Sylus lets out a soft laugh. You're beautiful like this. He works over every spot he knows will have your back arching and your toes curling, building you to a high you didn't know was possible.

"Sylus...! I feel like—Ah! Every time you do..hahh.. that! It feels like I'm... I'm gonna..!"

Sylus smiles, slowing down, just enough to let you relax, but not enough to let you come down from the high.

"Shhh... Let go. You're not going to pee, if that's what you think."

You grab him impossibly tight. "P-promise?"

Sylus nudges the dildo deep, hitting that spot once more and you nearly lose it. "I promise. Do you still want this?"

When you nod, he doesn't stop anymore. He hits all the right places, again and again and again. Then you feel it—the pressure in your stomach, the sickening tightness—

You barely have time to speak before you're spilling yourself on the dildo and his wrist.

Sylus lets out a stuttered breath. "God, look at you… absolutely stunning."

You want to flush, ask him if that's really what you thought it was, apologize for just... spilling yourself but he's already leaning down and kissing you.

"That was okay?" you ask between kisses and he groans.

"That was perfect. You're perfect."

Rafayel <3 !

Rafayel leans back, lips kiss-swollen, and brows furrowed in concern. "Hey, you okay? You..." Rafayel pauses, unable to hide the hint of offense, "tense every time we do this."

You open your mouth, unsure of what you're even going to say, but Rafayel quickly continues. "It's fine if you don't want this," he assures you, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing. "Just tell me. I don't ever want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"No.. It's not that..."

He sees the way you seem to shrink. "Not that I’m demanding fanfare every time I lean in,” he jokes, hoping that might ease the tension.

Your lips curl up in a small smile. "I know..."

"Then what is it?"

With a shaky breath, you finally manage, "I can't come."

Rafayel's brows come together. "You.. can't come?" he repeats, relief flooding his chest when you nod.

Not that he's happy you can't come, but at least it isn't him.

"I'm sorry I didn't know," he murmurs, cupping your cheek and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

You smile, leaning into his touch. "It doesn't mean I don't experience pleasure though.. I just," you shrug softly, "never finish."

Rafayel nods, thoughtfully. "You should've told me sooner. I wouldn't have—"

"No, Raf—" you laugh breathlessly, cupping his face in your hands. "I'm trying to say that I want to do things with you. I want to right now."

Your cheeks warm when you hear yourself.

"I still feel good. And if you didn't mind..—"

"I don't mind," Rafayel answers, already slipping his hand around your waist and pulling you close. "I don't mind at all."

"Then do you want—" You break off on a yelp as Rafayel scoops you into his arms. You laugh, curling your arms around his neck. "What are you doing?"

"Setting the mood."

You scoff, nuzzling into his neck. "You don't have to make this a big deal."

"Why not? You're a big deal to me."

He gently sets you down on his bed and dims the light before crawling over you. You swallow hard, every cell in your body lighting up the instant he leans down to kiss you because now you know where this is going.

He's slow, gentle. The way he always is, but he's also hungrier, needier.

His hands drag down your side, remapping your body before finally landing between your legs. He pulls back to look at you as he applies gentle pressure.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Rafayel asks, his voice low, laced with a hint of frustration. Not at you though, at himself.

"I just didn't know if you'd still want to... do stuff if you knew."

Rafayel lets out a small shudder, rubbing firm circles through your clothes. "Do you seriously think I'd walk away because I know you better?"

You give a slow shake of your head. "I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have thought—"

Rafayel kisses you again, his hands slowly working your pants and underwear down your legs. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry."

He's gentle when he nudges your clothes away. "I should've been more attuned to you," he says, his hand finding the heated skin between your legs again.

He drags his fingers through your slit, a quiet breath slipping out when he feels how much you've wanted this.

"N-no, Rafayel," you try, your hips rolling into his touch. "It's not your fault."

"It is." He crushes his lips against yours, his fingers slowly working over your slick heat. "Let me make it up to you."

You press your palm to his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath the faint whiff of turpentine and terpene clinging to his skin. Then you nod.

"Okay."

Rafayel doesn't waste a single second. He pushes in slowly, his mouth parting at the way you cling to his finger.

He waits until he's certain you're ready, then he nudges another finger in, drinking in the way your face pinches with pleasure.

"Tell me if it’s too much, or not enough. Every stroke is for you."

"It's enough," you mewl, the sound shooting straight to his core. He can't help it. You're so beautiful like this.

He curls his fingers once, gasping when he touches the spot that makes your back arch and your hips jump.

"There?" he asks. "Do you like that spot?"

You don't even know what that spot means, you just know it feels good so you give a furious nod. "Yes! I like.. It!"

Rafayel knows he should keep his teasing to a minimum. You're being so open and vulnerable with him after all, but it slips out unbidden.

"That's it." He bites his lip, a silent scolding, but then it comes out again. "Falling apart on my fingers.."

When you flutter around his pumping digits, he nearly loses it.

You cling to his shirt, heart pounding. "Feels so good... keep talking.."

Rafayel shudders, his thumb brushing against your clit when he speaks. "Yeah? You want to hear my voice?" His voice dips, jaw tensing from the effort of holding himself back. "Look at you... dripping all over me."

He hits that perfect spot. And once he finds the exact place that makes you breathe out a whiny moan and curl your toes, he hits it again and again.

"You're so beautiful."

You feel your stomach burn, the pressure inside you coiling tight. Too tight.

"Rafayel..!"

You gasp as you spill yourself over him, a furious blush painting your cheeks. You want to curl up and his in his blankets, but he's leaning down and pressing his whole body weight onto you, kissing you slow and deep.

"You're my most beautiful work."

You make a muffled sound into the kiss, melting into it. When he pulls back, his cheeks are tinted a cute pink and his breathing is uneven.

"You said... that you don't finish.. but you can squirt?"

You cover your face. "Don't say that!"

Rafayel smiles. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's gorgeous."

You peek through your fingers. "Really?"

"Really."

He gently pulls your hands away and kisses you again. "Thank you for showing me that side of you."

"Thank you for helping me."

—

@cafekitsune for dividers!

i didnt like this.

#🫧syluspeach fic recs🫧

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