#qin che love and deepspace

[thevillainyofourfears]

just tried to take a bite out of my laptop

save a cow ride a boy or what um save a uh ride a horse no its save a uhh guys who we saving

[stargirlygirl]

no, you can't buy my ranch

rancher!sylus x spoiled!city girl!reader

⭑.ᐟ part four: girlfriend?!

summary: while grocery shopping, the sales assistant accuses you of dating sylus. what's up with that?

contains: swearing (female rage), 1.7k words (see my final words for my apology)

cowboy sylus fanart by @yvilonion (not commissioned or anything, just looks super cool hehe)

Ah, a quiet Tuesday morning. You wake up this morning feeling refreshed by a good night’s sleep. Gentle sunlight streams in through your white lace curtains, casting intricate shadows across the expanse of your room.

You start the day off with a home workout. Just one of those at-home pilates videos on YouTube before cleaning yourself up and having some breakfast. Your fridge is looking a bit empty, so you decide to do some grocery shopping.

A productive way to spend your day off.

You slide on your signature t-shirt and jeans before driving into town. It’s only 9am when you cut your engine and hop out, perfect.

The small town’s supermarket is fucking tiny. It feels like someone overloaded your old shoebox apartment with produce and shelving. The fruit and veg are small, the product range is small, and only one cart fits per aisle. It’s traumatic, to be honest, nothing like the big supermarkets you’re used to back home. But you make do.

Oh! I forgot to mention, the worst part of the shop is that they only have one checkout. The line snakes around the back of the store as the elderly line up. You’re wondering if this was the local retirement home’s day program with how many oldies are in this joint. The old man in front of you groans about his back issues, while his wife complains about the long wait time.

You sigh and lean on your shopping trolley, looking around at the adult diapers stacked up the wall as some 70s song plays overhead at volume 100. How pleasant.

You wait for around 10 minutes until it’s finally your turn. Lifting out your numerous items, it feels good to move your legs more than a few steps. The sales assistant is a middle-aged woman with a side-parted blonde bob. She greets you and starts scanning your items, packing them in your reusable shopping bags at a snail’s pace. So this is why it was taking so long.

The beeps of the scanner and feel-good jazz fill the silence between you.

Placing your strawberries in a bag, she starts a conversation with you, “You’re Y/n, right?”

Taken back, you say nervously, “Uh, yes. I am.” She grins and gazes at you, scrutinising you like a scientist does to a specimen.

“You just moved in here, didn’t you?” Her voice is sickly sweet, a threat coated in fake smiles and icing sugar. Shifting awkwardly on your feet, you nod. With the last bag filled, she hands it to you.

As you plop it in the trolley, she continues, “I saw you having lunch with Sylus the other day. You two seemed pretty cosy.” The bag thuds against the metal grid.

You glance up and remark, “He’s my, uh, acquaintance, yes.”

Clicking on the keyboard to ring up the total, she grins like a Cheshire, “It’s okay, you don’t have to deny it. He told us you were his girlfriend.” You tune out as she confirms the total, robotically fishing in your wallet for a $100 note (these weirdos like cash).

Handing it over, you shake your head, “That’s not true. Sylus wouldn’t.” After taking the money from you, the till pops open, and she starts grabbing your change.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she pouts, handing you a few coins. “Don’t worry, no one thinks badly of you, honey. If anything, we’re in awe of how you bagged him so fast.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Have a nice day! See you next time, sweetheart,” she chirps, already preparing for her next customer. Pushing your cart back to your car, you’re in a daze. Your thoughts spiral, assessing whether Sylus would have told the townsfolk you two were dating. But she said he did. So then—

The back car door slams shut before you wheel your trolley to the trolley bay, anger sparking and igniting a fire within. After returning it, you slide into the driver’s side with pursed lips and a furrow in your brow. You’ve got cold stuff, so you need to get those home. But afterwards, you’ve got a rancher to visit.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

“SYLUS!!” You yell, stomping furiously across the pasture toward him. He’s got his back to you, handing the reins of a beautiful black steed at his side to a ranch hand. Lazily turning around, he’s got his usual cocky grin on his face. You stop a metre or so away from him, glaring daggers into his towering frame. Or at least you try to, but the late morning sun is high and beams into your eyes as you stare up at the mass of a man in front of you.

His ranch hand leads the horse away, giving you two some much-needed privacy. Like you could call it that with the way you were about to go off at him. You’re positively livid, steam cartoonishly spilling from your ears (probably) and red-faced.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU TOLD PEOPLE WE WERE DATING?!” You jab your finger at his chest. He simply tilts his head down, ink and silver-studded akubra casting a shadow over his swoon-worthy eyes.

“Oh?” He says mockingly.

Your finger stabs into his sternum repeatedly as you shout exasperatedly, “OH?! IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?! OH?!”

He smirks, shifting on his feet and grabbing your wrist, “And what would you like me to say, sweetie?” The pads of his finger land on your pulse and note how rapidly it’s pounding.

“ANYTHING! LITERALLY ANYTHING, YOU FUCKIN’ ASSHOLE! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” Your voice is already growing hoarse, not used to this much yelling (gone are your rockstar days). With the heat of the day and the anger boiling within, your cheeks must be the colour of his eyes; you just know it.

He shrugs, “What’re you referring to, kitten?”

“OH MY GOD! ARE YOU—” You cough into your free hand, gazing away for a second to compose yourself.

“Careful now. We don’t want you to lose your voice now, do we?” He drawls, a silver brow quirked in feigned concern. Or was it real? It’s hard to keep track amid his games and ambitions.

Staring back up at him, you continue quieter but still as fiery, “Were you listening to any of what I just said?! You told people in town that we were dating! Explain yourself.” Sylus gazes at you momentarily before a guffaw takes hold of him. Hell, the rancher almost doubles over in laughter from the absurdity of the situation.

By the time he’s recovered, he’s wiping tears from his crinkled eyes. All while you stand there, the cutest pout on your lips and crease in your brow. He’s still holding your wrist, his grip loose. You try to tug it back, but he doesn’t relent.

“Kitten,” he grins. “What motive would I have for engaging in the town’s gossip, let alone spreading rumours about us?” You’re… you’re winded.

“What?” Your heart drops, beating in your tummy as you gaze at him, slack-jawed. He shakes his head and inches closer, fingers gliding up from your wrist to intertwine with your fingers and press your palms together.

He says cockily, “Did you consider, sweetie, that whoever told you such a scandalous rumour could be lying to you?” No words form in your mind, and any that attempt to make it past your lips die on your tongue, doused by the tides of confusion and regret. Confusion in trying to discern who was telling the truth. And regret for accusing the one person who made you feel a little less like a freak for something they didn’t do.

You shake your head, earning a mocking chuckle from Sylus, “How naive, kitten.” Your mouth is dry, like you’ve tried to eat sand. You avert your eyes to the ground, staring at the grass in embarrassment.

Without a hat on, the sun’s harsh rays start frying you from head to toe. Maybe you can blame your flushed face on sunburn, you think. Cows moo in the distance, and ranch hands yell at each other from the stables. Fury transforms into shame the longer he stares at you. Mentally, you start berating yourself for being so fucking stupid. This mistake not only cost you your pride, but it may have cost you a friend, too.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you murmur. The rancher tucks a traitorous lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips ghosting your cheekbone before sliding down to your jaw. Gently, he tips your head back, his warm eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear, when no one else is,” he says tenderly. His fingers slip down your neck before his hand falls to his side.

You nod, “Mhmm,” as a small smile spreads across your lips. Time seems to stretch on as you stare at each other, your figure cast in his shadow.

“Can I make it up to you? Cook you dinner or something?” You ask quietly. His full lips curve into his signature smirk.

“Now, kitten. It sounds like this was your plan all along.” You scoff, tempted to shove him, but containing yourself.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “Yea, yea, so, whaddya say?”

Sylus ponders your offer for a few seconds before chuckling, “Alright. How does this Friday night sound?” You nod energetically; there’s no need to even check your calendar because it’s completely empty.

“Good,” he murmurs. Giving your hand a final squeeze, he releases you and steps back.

“If that’s all, I’ll be seeing you then, sweetie. You’ve got my number, don’t you? Text me when you’re ready, and I’ll be over.”

You chirp, “Okay,” while walking backward slowly, intent on heading back home and researching some delicious recipes for Friday.

Sylus tilts his head forward in charming acknowledgement before you whip around and scurry off to your car. With a satisfied smirk, he heads off to the stables.

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star girl's final words: yes this one is so short sorryyyy. it's because this part is the set-up for part five, which i'll hopefully be posting in a few days. as always, thank you for your patience! hope this one excites you for what's to come.

taglist - @stxrrielle, @peachystea, @harbingers-lullaby, @grlyeetswrld, @multisstuff, @heartyluv, @cuntphoric-main, @sealoftime, @beesin03, @tragicvictoriantears

[asiatic-apple]

I need the smut mirror sex prompt with Sylus and female reader please

Your wish is my command, anon ;) I’m still a little unsure about what Sylus’s dirty talking would be like…If y’all have any feedback on how I wrote it here, lmk what you think!

Requests are open for my follower celebration

Breathtaking view

Sylus x female reader

Prompt: mirror sex

Content: lots of praise, hair pulling (but it’s gentle), slightly rough fucking…but sylus remains a gentleman, a moment of possessive!sylus, creampie

The ornate floor-length mirror across from Sylus’s bed at Onychinus’s base felt a little over the top when you first saw it. But now, you’re starting to understand its appeal—and why Sylus positioned it with the perfect view of his large bed.

You're on all fours at the edge of the mattress, facing the mirror with your back arched and hands gripping the silk sheets. And Sylus is behind you, fucking you with a rhythm that has your thighs trembling.

He usually doesn’t take you like this. Normally, he likes the moment to be more intimate, his body pressed against every delicious curve of yours. He likes to cradle you in his arms and use his weight to keep you in place while he overwhelms you with deep thrusts.

But tonight, he can’t deny there’s something special about this view.

“Look at that,” he groans, low and reverent. One palm glides down your spine while the other grips your hip tight enough to bruise. “So perfect…”

You try to focus on the mirror's reflection—the sight of your flushed face, mouth parted, body jolting forward with each powerful thrust. But your eyes are drawn to him. The way his gaze is locked on you like he’s memorizing every detail, every shudder, every moan.

You cry out when he hits that perfect spot inside you, making your arms buckle and your head drop forward onto the sheets. But there’s no real reprieve from the intense pleasure. He folds his strong torso over your back, his thrusts not missing a beat while he presses warm kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“Eyes on the mirror, sweetie,” he rasps, voice thick with desire.

All you can do is whimper in return. You’re not sure if you have the strength to stay upright when Sylus fucks you so deep, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.

And he knows it. He always knows. His fingers slip up the nape of your neck, threading gently into your hair before giving a firm tug at the roots. It’s not too rough. Just sudden enough to make you yelp and lift your gaze.

The moment your eyes meet his in the mirror, he slows, just for a heartbeat. It’s not hesitation. It’s just a quick check-in. Ready to stop if you need to tap out.

But you don’t. You want this. Your body tingles with pleasure when he resumes the rough pace of his thrusts, fucking you a bit harder now that he has your attention.

“That’s it,” he growls, that trademark smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t look away.” Your cunt clenches around him in response, and he lets out a noise that’s guttural, downright feral. “Fuck…just like that,” he groans between the sounds of your pussy slicking him up with more of your arousal. “You’re squeezing me so well, sweetie.”

You whine his name, hips pushing back against him instinctively. You’re lost in the heat of his words and the stretch of him inside you.

“Such a precious little thing,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

His eyes never leave the reflection. He’s drinking in the sight of your body—how gorgeous every dip, curve, and soft roll is while you writhe from the pleasure.

And while he’s lost in admiring you, you’re just as caught up in him. The way his muscles flex with every movement. The way his skin glistens with sweat. The sharp lines of his jaw clenching when he grits his teeth. You’re hypnotized by his strength, his hunger, his absolute focus on you.

Then his arm snakes around your waist, and his fingers slip between your thighs to lazily circle your clit.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, still mesmerized by you and talking mostly to himself. “And you’re all mine.”

He fucks you like he plans on keeping you forever. And he kisses your neck with such gentle affection—it’s a dizzying contrast to how hard and deep his cock moves inside you.

Watching yourself like this, seeing how your own body seems to glow with confidence, it makes you moan even louder. Only Sylus brings out this side of you. And he loves it. He loves knowing how his words, his praise, encourages you to love yourself harder. You deserve it all, and he’s proud of you for accepting both his cock and his affection so openly.

The two of you get lost in the sinful image of your bodies intertwined, appreciating how sexy you look together. You’ve always brought out the best sides of each other.

It’s that feeling—the recognition that Sylus completes you and you complete him—that has your fingers clawing into his bicep as he thrusts into you harder, chasing both your highs at once.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Sylus says between breathless grunts. “Come for me.”

With one more circle of his fingers and a deliciously deep thrust, you fall apart on his cock. Your mouth parts in such a pretty ‘o’, and Sylus eagerly watches every twitch and shiver of your body through the mirror.

He follows a breath later, hips jerking one last time as he spills inside you with a rough groan of your name.

After such passionate lovemaking, even someone as strong as Sylus can’t stay upright anymore. He collapses beside you, careful to roll you over so you don’t get stuck beneath his heavy body.

The two of you need a few minutes to catch your breath, and he pulls you into his arms to pepper sloppy kisses all over your sweaty skin.

“Hm, you always look good, sweetie,” he murmurs, between kisses full of adoration. “But tonight? You were breathtaking.”

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk

🐉 tag list: @voidsylus @keiva1000 @terriblesoup

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Creds: mdni banner by @/cafekitsune divider by @/sweetmelodygraphics

[rika-mmendmethings]

Baby Boss-Man (or Boss Baby?) l Sylus

Summary: One misfire of another one of Philip's odd inventions and Sylus is aged back to a five-year-old bundle of chaos version of himself. But as you try to survive his oversized cuteness, you can't help but catch baby fever. When the antidote arrives, you're sure that you'll be rid of those thoughts. The only difference is that Sylus intends to make them real.

Warning(s): Tooth-rotting fluff, baby fever, temporary age regression, written with female reader in mind, might die from the cute aggression you get from five-year-old Sylus, short and sweet, suggestive at the end, cheesy, kissing, pet names like kitten used.

Word count: 2.6k

Now playing: Honeypie by JAWNY

Notes: Based on this request. I'm a bit late but as promised here it is. I felt like I was writing Feline Hexes all over again because the fluff surely measured up to that one. Had me rolling in the feels. Okay enough yapping, hope y'all enjoy it especially you bestie @sylusgirlie7 ♥

You had accompanied Sylus to the Odd Workshop since you needed to have your hunter weapon modified anyway. Flashing a polite smile at Philip in greeting, you handed over your gun for him to begin his work. You took a seat nearby, exchanging idle conversation with Philip while keeping an eye on Sylus from your periphery as he wandered around the workshop, poking at things with curious fingers.

Once Philip completed the modification, you tested your weapon and hummed in satisfaction — the result was flawless. Just as you were about to thank him, a loud buzz shattered the eerie quiet that usually hung in the air.

You whipped your head around, eyes scanning for Sylus, but he was nowhere in sight. Alarmed, you called out, “Sylus?”

“Yeah?” came a small, chirpy voice.

Your gaze dropped to a heap of familiar-looking clothes on the floor. You gasped when a tuft of white hair peeked out from beneath them. Wide, crimson, doe-like eyes stared up at you — and in a shocking moment of realization, you understood: it was Sylus. Your boyfriend. But now, in the body of a five-year-old.

“Help!” he squeaked, little arms flailing beneath the pile of oversized clothing. “I’m stuck!”

You quickly bent down and freed him, lifting his tiny form out of the tangled garments — leaving behind his shoes, belt, and pants, which were now comically too large for him. The shirt hung from his frame like a cloak, sleeves completely swallowing his arms. Despite the confusion, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Gently, you wrapped the lower half of his shirt around his legs and rolled up the sleeves, messily tying it together to make it wearable. You cradled him in your arms, cocooned in his own shirt.

Philip approached, his face sheepish as his eyes flicked between the smoldering wreckage of a device on the floor and the now miniaturized Sylus in your arms. You could practically see steam rising from Sylus’s tiny ears in outrage.

Scratching the back of his neck, Philip offered a half-hearted explanation, “That was... um, my latest invention. I created a fluid designed to revert a plant to its seed form — or a butterfly back to a caterpillar. I didn’t realize the jet injector would actually work on humans too…heh.”

Philip’s words only seemed to further ignite Sylus’s temper. You noticed the telltale shimmer of his Evol — the familiar red energy crackling around his tiny form, pulsing with irritation. You gently patted his head, offering what little comfort you could, then set him carefully on his feet, telling him to go somewhere so as to not risk the chances of Philip being evaporated. Sylus reluctantly agreed and trotted away after promising to not touch anything else. 

You turned back to Philip, exhaling a slow breath. “The longer he stays like this, the angrier he gets,” you said. “Do you have anything that can reverse the effect?”

Philip tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting toward the remnants of his failed invention. “Nothing at the moment,” he admitted. “But I have been developing a counter-agent — something to reverse the regression effect. I’ve got a few prototypes I can begin testing right away. If I manage to create a viable solution, I’ll have Luke and Kieran deliver it to you.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” you asked, brow furrowed.

“Give me five, maybe six hours,” he replied. “I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

You nodded in understanding. Five to six hours with a miniaturized Sylus… manageable. Hopefully.

After exchanging a few more words with Philip — mostly warnings and a half-hearted apology from his side — you turned to look for your pint-sized lover. What greeted you nearly made you choke on a laugh.

You had turned your back for five minutes.

He’s drawn an elaborate chalk mural on the wall featuring Philip as a monster and you as a superhero wielding a gun of justice.

Philip stares at it.

"...He’s not wrong," you say, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard at his antics. Philip just sighs, returning inside to work on the prototype before bidding you goodbye.

You made your way over to your tiny lover, who immediately turned around with an eager gleam in his crimson eyes. He patted the wall’s surface with one small hand, proudly trying to divert your attention to what he clearly deemed a masterpiece. You couldn’t help but smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his soft white hair, lifting him easily into your arms before praising him for his creation, watching as his ears turn slightly pinkish. 

The walk back to his mansion was surprisingly short, not because of the distance, but because of the constant stream of animated chatter coming from Sylus. You hum and respond once in a while, eyes locked on his round face. You’d often wondered what Sylus had been like as a child since he didn’t really have any childhood photos or any sweet memories of those sorts. You once even assumed that he’d had probably been an overall aloof child considering his normal nature. 

But clearly you were mistaken because little Sylus was far from indifferent. He was shorter, chubbier and a total chatterbox with full energy. He kept pressing his tiny palms against your cheeks, forcing your attention to remain on him rather than on the passing scenery. Something about it stirred a deep, unfamiliar sense of affection within you — maternal, perhaps, or simply overwhelming tenderness.

“Whatcha thinking?” He asked, peering up at you from beneath long ivory lashes. 

“I’m thinking…” you began as you stepped into the mansion and carefully kicked off your shoes, mindful not to jostle him, “I could have five little yous running around and still never get tired.”

Sylus giggled, and the sound was so sweet — so utterly uncharacteristic of the man you knew — that it made your heart swell. You cooed at him in response, smiling as his ears turned pink once again. It struck you then — he must have always gotten shy when praised by someone he loved.

You set him down gently and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water for him. As you filled it, you called out, “Luke? Kieran?”

The twins appeared a second later, popping their heads out from behind a wall in perfect sync before strolling over to you. They leaned casually on the dining table, voices overlapping as they spoke in unison.

“Yes, Missus?”

You handed Sylus the water and turned back to them. “If you get a call from Philip this evening, go to the Odd Workshop and collect whatever he gives you.”

The two exchanged glances and nodded but still asked, “What for, Missus?”

“Sylus turned into the five-year-old version of himself as a result of playing with one of Philip’s peculiar inventions. Philip will be creating a counter-agent to reverse that effect by evening. So, you’ll be picking it up from his place.”

The twins looked at you like you grew two heads before sharing a subtle glance with each other. Their gazes followed you as you walked over to little Sylus and offered him the glass of water. You heard them gasp from behind you as they saw their miniaturized boss-man.

“No gin fizz?” Little Sylus asked, his lips forming a small pout. You patted his head twice, making him finish the glass of water before responding, “You’re five, Sylus.”

“Only by body.” He protested half-heartedly, allowing you to walk away toward the kitchen counter. He noticed the twins staring at him, their jaws dropped in disbelief. He shot them a menacing glare that, unfortunately, didn’t carry much weight due to his adorably cute face.

“Do you think boss-man would like uppies?” Luke whispered to Kieran after a moment of silence.

“Try it, and I’ll break your hands.” Sylus threatened, though the menace was undermined by the childish lilt in his voice. The twins zoomed out of the room in response, but it didn’t take long before they returned, each holding one of the plushies you’d collected over time. They also sported silly hats with fans attached to them, which they had somehow managed to get onto Mephisto as well. Waving the plushies in front of little Sylus’ face, Kieran added, “If not uppies, then surely boss-man would like toys?”

Luke furrowed his brow, falling deep into thought. “Is it ‘boss-man’ or ‘baby boss-man’ now?”

“I think the latter. But is ‘baby boss-man’ okay, or should we change it to ‘boss baby,’ like in the movie?” Kieran voiced his own opinion, and the two of them pondered in silence, while Mephisto let out curious caws in the background.

You could see the slight twitch of annoyance in your lover’s brows as you cut up some fruit for him. His expression made it clear he wasn’t exactly amused by their antics. A few moments later, the twins’ yelps filled the room, followed by the sound of Sylus’s evol lifting them off the ground before spinning them in circles. You didn’t need to look back to confirm — his mischievous smirk was practically radiating from the air.

After a few more minutes, you spoke over your shoulder, “Sylus, that’s enough. Put the twins down.”

He slumped his shoulders, his lips pressed in a pout, but despite his reluctance, he complied.

The twins clutched their heads, their faces pale, leaning against each other to steady themselves. They now knew little Sylus’ favorite game, and with that newfound knowledge, they’d be sure to avoid becoming part of it ever again. Meanwhile, Mephisto emitted unintelligible chatters that almost sounded mocking, as if he were laughing at the twins, prompting them to chase after the crow in frustration.

You pick up the fruit bowl you prepared earlier and make your way over to your miniaturized boyfriend. Gently lifting him into your arms, you carry him to his study and settle into the plush sofa, carefully positioning him on your lap. His gaze immediately lands on the fruit bowl, and you already know — he’s not eating a bite unless you feed him yourself.

Without a word, you pick up an apple slice and bring it to his expectant mouth. He takes it without hesitation, and a fond smile spreads across your lips as you watch him chew with slow, deliberate movements, his tiny baby teeth working adorably. Your eyes wander to his miniature hands, chubby fingers, and the soft curve of his cheeks — each feature impossibly cute and heart-melting. A strange warmth blossoms in your chest.

Once he dutifully finishes the fruit, you shower his face with gentle kisses, unable to resist his charm. You take a playful bite of his squishy cheek, and he squirms away with a bashful laugh, flustered but delighted.

You stretch out your legs, adjusting him slightly on your lap just as Mephisto comes swooping into the study. The mechanical crow flaps in with a small box tied to his claws and drops it onto the table. Your eyes flick to the label — it’s a parcel from Philip. The antidote.

Opening the box, you find a syringe filled with a strange-looking fluid. Meanwhile, Sylus is preoccupied with Mephisto, tugging at the poor bird with all the curiosity and strength of a toddler. You gently free the distressed crow from his tiny grasp and let him fly away with a disgruntled caw.

You prepare the syringe, mentally rehearsing how to administer it without making Sylus cry. But to your astonishment, he simply extends his arm, blinking at you calmly like he was born for this moment. You barely suppress the laughter bubbling in your throat as you inject the cure into his arm. Once done, you toss the used materials into the waste bin nearby.

Little Sylus settles back against you, his small head nestled against your chest and his arms resting at his sides. He lets out a soft yawn, eyelids fluttering.

“You must be tired of taking care of me all day, right?” he asks sleepily.

You stroke a hand gently down his back as he drifts closer to sleep, murmuring mostly to yourself, “Tired? Not even a little. Though I’ll admit… I did catch baby fever — and it’s all your fault.” You smile softly and poke his cheek. “You’d look incredibly hot holding our babies, not gonna lie.”

Your eyes begin to grow heavy too, and you decide to let sleep take you — wrapped around this tiny, precious version of him.

But peace is fleeting.

You're rudely jolted awake by a sharp ache in your limbs from the sudden weight pressing into you — and the restless shifting of said weight. You blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, only to find yourself completely unprepared for the sight before you.

Sylus, in all his fully restored, adult glory, is now straddling your lap. And to your utter disbelief — he’s completely naked. The weight of his shirt over your feet confirms that. You keep your eyes fixed on his face, not daring to look anywhere down. 

“Why are you not decent?” You ask, your voice sharp but wavering slightly under the weight of the scene before you.

Sylus doesn’t answer — not directly. Instead, he tilts his head back, a downright  dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he murmurs, “Baby fever, huh?”

Your breath catches, and you struggle to mask the shock on your face. You’d been certain he was asleep last night — small, drowsy, and curled up against your chest — when you muttered those words. Clearly, you were wrong.

Feigning thoughtfulness, he furrows his silver brows, tapping a slender finger thoughtfully against his chin. “Let me see... Was it just my imagination,” he drawls slowly, “or did you actually say something along the lines of how incredibly hot I’d look holding our babies?”

You quickly avert your gaze, face flushing from the neck up, but Sylus isn’t finished. Gently but firmly, he turns your face back toward him with a soft grip on your chin.

“Babies, hmm? Plural, kitten?” His voice is velvet-smooth, full of teasing delight. “My, my… I never realized my sweet girlfriend harbored such passionate little dreams, tucked away in the quiet corners of her heart.”

Mortified, you bring your hands up to cover your face, hoping to hide the vivid shade of red blooming across your cheeks. Your attempts at explanation tumble out as little more than embarrassed babbling — completely incoherent.

Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle as he captures your wrists, gently drawing your hands away from your face and guiding your eyes back to his. His gaze is molten, ruby irises shimmering with a heat that words can’t quite describe — intense, unspoken, and entirely consuming

He presses himself further into your body and you try to not think too much about what is poking your thighs and instead focus on his next words. He clicks his tongue, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know… I really am curious how you'd handle five little versions of me. Perhaps it’s time we put that theory to the test, don’t you think?”

Before you can form a coherent response, you barely register the soft click of the study door locking — courtesy of his evol — followed by the warmth of his hand slipping beneath your shirt.

In the next breath, you're on your back, pressed into the cushions of the sofa, his body hovering over yours with practiced ease. That infuriating, devastatingly attractive smirk curves his lips — one laced with unmistakable intent.

And in his eyes, gleaming with heat and purpose, you see it: he’s done teasing. He’s ready to prove just how serious he is.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[justauthoring]

More Than You'd Think.

Summary: Surely, you were just some random daughter of some random employee of Sylus'. And surely that meant Sylus thought nothing of you. But, when faced with danger, you learn just how wrong you are.

Pairing: Qin Che / Sylus x F!Reader (not MC!)

Word Count: 2,849

A/N: Some angst and then fluff to make us all feel better :)

TW. attempted sexual assault, violence and brief mention of death (not reader or sylus)

"My father will be right out."

"Thank you... Y/N."

Your gasp is barely concealed, a soft shutter leaving your lips as you glance up to meet Sylus' eyes. He's already staring down at you, his usual air of confidence obvious as he stands before you with his shoulders held high. There's a small smirk on his lips, while his heavy-lidded gaze stays focused on you.

You make a strong effort to remain strong, but you hadn't the slightest clue Sylus, the leader of Onychinus and your father's boss, had any idea who you were. Let alone your name.

It's not like this is the first time either of you have spoken but any conversation between the two of you has never been any of subtance. More often then not, it was you telling him you'd fetch your father and him humming in response.

You don't miss the slight quirk of his lips as you react to that realization, shifting on your feet. "You're welcome, sir," you offer, lightly bowing your head.

Despite your shock, you're not foolish enough to think that Sylus knowing your name means anything. Your father has been working under Sylus for a long time and therefore, you're fully aware of the power that Sylus holds in the N109 zone.

Not to mention, you've grown up in the N109 zone you're entire life. You're fully aware of how dangerous people like Sylus are, even without your father's warnings.

"Please," Sylus offers after a short moment of silence. His voice is light as you meet his gaze, and the smirk has softened to something a little more sincere. "Call me Sylus, Y/N."

You're sure you're hallucinating what's happening in that moment. Because there's no way the leader of Onychinus is allowing some random daughter of one of his men call him by his first name.

Surely, you're going crazy.

"O-Oh," you find yourself stumbling over your words. You're not even sure what it is you're trying to say as you're saying it. "Well, th-then, um, Sylus--"

"--Sir!"

Halted at the sound of your father's voice, both you and Sylus' attention is shifted behind you. Your father comes rushing to the front of the office, looking out of breath and panicked.

"My apologies," he breathes, offering a bow. "I did not mean to take so long."

Sylus waves him off with a simple gesture of his hand. "It's fine," he assures with ease, "shall we?"

He gestures back towards the direction your father came from, the warehouse in which your father has set up what Sylus had come for today. Knowing that you're presence is no longer needed, you step back, with the intetion of moving towards the front desk.

"Y/N," your father calls, making you pause. You try to ignore the way Sylus' noticeable gaze falls on you in response, focusing on your father. "I need you to go pick up a package for me. Davie should have them ready and I'll need them for tomorrow."

Nodding, you change your direction, heading to grab your coat. "Sure thing, dad."

You expect that to be that, distantly hearing your father call for Sylus to follow him. Yet, once again, you're stopped by a voice; this time, Sylus.

"You'd send your daughter to grab a package on her own?"

Lips parting, you spin back to Sylus, confused. By the expression on your fathers face, he's just as confused.

"Y-Yes, sir," your father nods, obviously unsure of why Sylus cares. "Y/N often gets packages for me. It's... too hard for me to make the trip anymore."

Sylus frowns. "Surely you realize how unsafe it is for someone like your daughter to be walking through the N109 zone alone."

Your father seems stunned. To be fair, so are you. But, to save your father from stumbling over his words and making a fool of himself, you decide to brave Sylus' weirdly placed concern.

"It's alright, sir--Sylus," you assure, offering a gentle smile. "I've done it plenty of times. And I can protect myself if needed."

Sylus looks skeptical, his eyes running across your figure as his face twists in... concern? You're not sure and it's too much for you to even try and begin thinking about, so you choose not to. With another reassuring, polite smile, you finish pulling your coat on and step towards the door.

"I'll be back in a bit, dad," you smile at your father, before turning to Sylus. "Good luck with your meeting." You offer a short bow in response, and with that, you make your way out, unaware of Sylus' gaze that follows you.

Or, the pair of dark black eyes that follow you the second you step outside.

-

"Thank you, Davie. I'll make sure my father knows about the hiccup with the order."

"You're welcome there, Y/N." Davie smiles at you, "you sure you'll be okay heading home? I didn't think I'd keep you that long."

You just smile, brushing him off. "Not to worry, Davie. I'll be fine. It's a short walk."

Davie only hesitates a moment longer before nodding, offering you one final wave as you turn to make your walk home.

As you make your way back home, you pull your coat closer around yourself, keeping your eyes peeled around you in case of anything. You'd brushed it off to Davie, but realistically you were a little nervous walking home when it was already this dark out.

You hadn't expected the favour for your father to take that long, and you can't help but think about what Sylus had said before you'd left. It wasn't like you had thought he was wrong, but you'd been assured by the daylight and the fact that you had grown up in the N109 zone all your life.

Danger was something you were used to. It didn't mean it didn't frighten you though.

Your hand holds the small knife you carry with you at all times tightly, trying to hum quietly to yourself as you walk, pace fast.

You can't help but let your mind wander to how hard Sylus behaviour had been earlier that day. You weren't sure how the man treated other daughters of his employees, but you convince yourself he probably just had some sort of gentleman code he upheld. Sure he was the leader of a dangerous gang, didn't mean he was terrible in all aspects.

He'd never been anything but kind to you, even if conversations had been brief. Your father running behind today had just presented him the opportunity to speak more, and if anything, he'd just done it out of kindness.

His concern about you walking through the N109 zone alone? That was probably just because of the well-known knowledge of how dangerous N109 was and the fact that if anything happened to you, it would impact your fathers work.

Which would impact Sylus.

Yeah. That had to be it.

Shaking your head of silly thoughts, you take a sharp left, only to pause at the sight of a shadow up ahead. You instantly stop, feeting freezing beneath you, as you stare at the figure. You can't quite make out distinguishable features, but the build is clearly that of a man.

For a long, silent moment, the both of you stand there. Then, he steps forward.

You instantly step back, only to hear approach footsteps behind you. Your head snaps to the left, heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you see a man heading your way. A look to your right tells you another man is coming from that way too.

Breath hitching in panic, your eyes widen as a voice calls out;

"Well, hello there, pretty lady."

It's the man in front of you that calls it out, voice sickeningly sweet and promising nothing good. Feeling your body start to shake, you grip your knife tighter with your right hand, your left holding the pack and take a step back.

The man in front of you steps into the light, letting you see the lecherious grin on his face.

Swallowing thickly, you eye him for one long moment before turning around and breaking out into a run. You make it only a few steps before you feel a hand grab your shoulder, yanking you back. You don't waste a second, pulling the knife out from your coat pocket and swinging it at the man.

He dodges it, barely, but then the two other men reach you. They flank you on either side, and your arm swings out wildly, package falling to the ground with a bang as you let out a cry.

You manage to knick one of the men on the arm, him crying out in pain in response. It causes him to stumble back, giving you a bit of reprieve to try and break free. You strengthen your efforts into attacking with your knife, trying to ignore the fear radiating through your body and focus on the fight rather than flight.

But then, the man who you'd seen first, manages to grab your wrist. His grip pinches, fingers digging into your wrist as you try to pull your hand away.

"Stop!" You bellow, "no!"

It's useless. The men are stronger than you, especially with the two of them. And it doesn't go beyond your notice that the one you'd stabbed is getting back up too.

The two men overpower you, squeezing your wrist hard enough something pops and the knife clatters to the ground, leaving you completely defenceless.

Your arms are grabbed, body yanked forward until you're pressed against a wall. Pain radiates from your back where you're slammed up against the brick wall, a groan leaving your lips. It doesn't stop you, though, your hands striking out to push the man off of you.

"Fucking bitch," the one you'd stabbed bellows, striking you across the cheek. The punch stings, and you're sure your cheek is a bright pink as a result.

"This could've been so much easier for you," one of the men huffs at you, grabbing you by the chin to pull your gaze on him. "If you'd just submitted like a good girl."

Ignoring the rapid race of your heart, you narrow your eyes at him. "Fuck off."

Face twisting in anger, he grabs the wrist they'd sprained earlier, slamming it against the wall as you scream out in pain. It throbs in pain, strength leaving you as you try to fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

Your other wrist is pressed against the wall as well, and then something glints in your gaze.

"Now, stop fighting us or we'll really hurt you."

Eyeing the knife, the first tear slips past your defences, your vision blurring as your eyes water. It occurs to you then you really won't be able to fight your way out of this. Your only weapon had been taken from you and now you were the one with a weapon held against you.

"That clear?"

Swallowing thickly, you nod, inhaling sharply.

"Good," the man holding the knife grins. "Let's get started then."

A whimper leaves your lips as he steps towards you. His two henchman, one of them being the one you'd stabbed, hold you against the wall, grips never relenting as the main one stops in front of you. He drags the tip of the knife across your cheek, your body trembling as he continues down across the length of your neck until he reaches the collar of your blouse.

It occurs to you then that in your scuffle, you'd lost your coat.

"Please," you find yourself begging, bravo gone in face of your vulnerability. "Please don't."

"Too late, pretty lady," the one you'd stabbed leers at you. "We're going to make sure it hurts."

Letting out a sob, you weakly try to break free. It's useless.

The sound of buttons popping is all you hear as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the cold air hit your bare skin. The main man cuts away at your blouse like it's nothing, until you find your entire upper half bare, with nothing but your bra covering your modesty.

Sniffling, you feel your muscles freeze the second you feel lips press against your skin. The men lean into you, as if breathing you in, as you feel like you might throw up.

"Let's get this bra off," one of the men breathes against your neck.

You feel fingers slip underneath the strap of your bra and your breath hitches.

And then, you hear a cry of pain.

It startles you, eyes snapping open in confusion. For a second, you're not sure if you're the one who cried out in pain. But then, you realize that the man with the knife is no longer in front of you.

The men holding you seem just as confused, but before either of them can do anything, the one you'd stabbed is swept up in a mist of red and black and knocked back. He goes flying, your eyes widening as he lands againts the ground a few feet away from you, landing right on the shoulder you'd stabbed.

In the next second, the same mist takes the one to your right and sends him flying similarly.

You fall to your knees in an instant, legs giving out beneath you as you hold your throbbing wrist to your chest. You're terrified and baffled, not understanding what's happened.

And then, your answer steps in front of you.

Sylus steps in front of you, his gaze soft as he stares down at you. As he crouches in front of you, he's taking his jacket off of his shoulders and moving to wrap it around you. He's careful, making sure you know he means no harm as he covers you.

"S-Sylus?"

Your voice comes out small, broken. Sylus just shakes his head.

"Give me one second, Y/N. Then I'll get you out of here."

He stands back up, turning towards the scattered men on the ground before you. He instantly makes his way towards the main guy, towering over his cowering figure.

It seems Sylus' power really is something that precedes him.

As you sit there, pressed against the wall and cradling Sylus' jacket, it doesn't escape your attention that Sylus does more than just hurt the guy who'd held a knife to you. His other two henchman are hurt more by Sylus, but left for the two men who'd been standing back quietly waiting for Sylus' que. As Sylus turns back to you, he sends a nod at them.

It's clear what that means.

"Can I touch you?"

Blinking, you meet Sylus' gaze. He stares down at you, gaze soft and reassuring, making sure to keep his distance so as not to scare you.

Slowly, you nod.

-

Sylus doesn't take you back home.

Cradled in his arms, Sylus carries you all the way back to his place. When you quietly ask him about your father, he assures you that his men will inform your father of your whereabouts. You don't argue more than that.

Now, in Sylus' living room, you're wearing one of his shirts and sat on his couch while he bandages your wrist.

You've been otherwise silent until that moment, still startled and not really sure what to say. Sylus doesn't pressure you either.

But as you watch him finish bandaging your wrist, you find yourself speaking up.

"How did you know?"

Sylus glances up at your question, raising a brow as he meets your gaze. "Mephisto," he expains, using his head to gesture to his right. You follow his direction, eyes falling on the crow perched on a table across from you. "I can see through him."

You nod, even though you don't fully understand.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get there," Sylus breathes. "They shouldn't have even been able to touch you."

Blinking, you stare down at him. "Why do you care?"

Sylus, to your surprise, seems shocked by your question. His eyes widen briefly, lips parting and it's the first time you've seen him unsure.

"Why wouldn't I care?"

"I'm just the daughter of one of your employees," you remind, shaking your head. "I'm nobody."

Leaning forward, Sylus shakes his head. "You could never be nothing." Then, pausing, he sighs. "I've... tried to make my affections for you obvious, but clearly I wasn't obvious enough."

Eyes widening, you blink back at him.

"You're not just some daughter, Y/N." Reaching forward, he slips his hand into your not sprained one, threading his fingers through yours and squeezing. "And no one will ever hurt you again."

The tears that well in your eyes are out of your control. As your lips begins to tremble, you stare down at Sylus.

"I was so scared."

You're pulled into his arms, head pressed against his chest as he envelopes you completely. Despite everything, the touch doesn't scare you. Instead, it fills you with an overwhelming sense of safety and assurance.

You let yourself fall into Sylus' embrace, clutching onto him.

[umamaki]

HOW'S THE VIEW FROM UP THERE?

sylus x reader

CW reader with female anatomy, explicit smut, established relationship, kinda cutesy domestic imo, pet names, oral sex (f!receiving), oral slight teeth... wc. 0.9k

NOTE pls bear with me. drafting this was the hardest thing i’ve done and i think i genuinely forgot how to write.

You lean against the headboard, unmoving as Sylus lays on top of you. He’s on his stomach and his head rests just below your chin. You’d believe he’s asleep if not for his fingers absentmindedly tapping against your ribcage.

It’s out of the blue, but you can’t shake the urge to tell him the thought that just came to mind. A hand reaches down to play with his hair, lightly twirling his strands and scratching his scalp. He groans in contentment. The room’s silence had been broken and you take it as your chance. 

“Y’know, Sylus…”

You trail off, vaguely shy. He waits before prodding you on, “yes, what is it?”

“I… quite like this view of you.” He raises his head now, still confused. You continue, “I mean, seeing the top of your head like this. I like it. I like it a lot.”

There was truth in your words. Sylus is typically the one who towers over you, the one is used to seeing the top of your head. And so you’ve grown to cherish the moments in which he feels comfortable to be in a vulnerable position around you, offering his body to you, allowing you to touch him wherever you please. Though, the thought of not doing so had never once crossed his mind. 

So it intrigues him, what you had said. “Is that so?” You nod. He brings himself to hover face to face with you, “and what other times do you see the top of my head?”

You look up to think. He appreciates the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks and how your lips subconsciously pout when you’re lost in thought. 

“Well… When you carry me on your shoulders, when you tie my shoelaces, or right now when you lay on me, and um,” your voice lowers in saying the last part; you’re still a little embarrassed. 

But Sylus has never been a believer of shame. He’s smirks down at you now, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Could you repeat that last part for me, sweetie?”

“You heard me.” You stand your ground.

“I did not,” he feigned innocence, eyebrows raised, “please?”

“I said, I like seeing the top of your head when you.. go down on me, too.” Your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment as quickly as Sylus raises his to remove them from your face. 

“If you wanted me to eat you out, you could’ve just asked me to, dear.”

He laughs when you push his forehead back. The trail of kisses he leaves from your jaw to collarbone tickles and you give in, “fine, go on then,” your legs spread open for him, you sink back into the sheets, an invitation for him.

“Not feeling shy anymore, hm?” Of course he gives into your wishes, but it isn’t Sylus if he doesn’t at least ruffle you up beforehand. He licks a teasing stripe up through the fabric of your panties, eyes never breaking away from yours. “How’s the view now?”

His hot breath mingles with the wet patch on your underwear as he speaks directly into your cunt. You’re too pent up to entertain his teasing. An impatient hand pushes his face back down onto your heat, “view’s good, great. Please continue.”

You feel him smile into your cunt. He peels the fabric off, afterwards using his finger to separate the string of arousal that clung to your undergarment. The cold air of the room on your wet pussy makes you clench around nothing. “I can tell, you’re already drenched.”

He begins to lap at your slick folds before you can get a word back in. He eats you out like a man starved; never once coming up for air, but inhaling the scent of your heat so intensely that his back rises and falls with each deep breath. 

His hands are splayed out on each of your thighs, keeping your legs apart, allowing himself to relentlessly continue lapping up your leaking juices, savoring your taste on his tongue. Your legs shake under his grip as he switches between flattening and tensing his tongue, pushing the muscle up your cunt and through your folds. His nose bumps into your clit, sending a jolt up your body.

“Oh my god—Sylus—” the stimulation draws out breathless moans and whimpers from your lips and he’s enjoying every sound of it, “Sylus, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on my face baby?” His red eyes lock with your pleading ones before shifting his appreciative gaze down to the marks on your tits and the crease in your tummy, then back onto your eyes.

“Mhm—” 

“Now tell me,” his bruising grip on your legs pushes them up, knees reaching your ears, “you cumming because of the view? Or because of my tongue on your pussy?” He had always been so brazen with his words, never filtering his vulgar language. For some reason, the fact turns you on extraordinarily. 

“B-both!” You had to stutter it out in between moans, using up the last of your coherence to respond to him.

“Good.” You’re immediately taken to your climax when he catches your clit between his teeth; he does it lightly, but the unexpected sharpness of it immediately sends your orgasm crashing through you. His tongue guides you through your release, unwavering, despite your thrashing body beneath him. The orgasm is intense and overwhelming, blurring your vision before finally making your body go slack against the sheets. 

At last, he relieves you from the overstimulation. Your sheen covers the entirety of his chin, and he’s shameless in licking his lips clean when he catches you staring. 

“Darling, I just might have a new favorite view after this.”

@jin-fei @isagistar @venussakura @syluriar @shoyosthighs

[enyaliuswrites]

➽ By Sword or By Love

Prince!Sylus x Warrior Princess!fem reader 100 followers special. 1.89k words.

Prince LADS Masterlist

Prince!Sylus, who’s feared by everyone—soldiers, commoners and even the royal family. The Warrior Prince, once a small boy holding a sword too heavy for his blistered hands, was molded into the cold and ruthless General by going through hell and back.

Prince!Sylus, who spends nights inside meeting halls, formulating strategies, and days outside in training grounds, sharpening both his own skills and those of his soldiers. Although his looks and achievements could make a grown man cower, the prince doesn’t lack compassion. He watches over his soldiers, ensuring they rest when they’ve pushed too far and offering both guidance and understanding. 

Prince!Sylus, who is almost always riding out to battle. Mounted on his black stallion, he leads a trail of soldiers beyond the safety of the capital’s walls. As they pass, the common folk watch—some with admiration, others with quiet criticism.

Prince!Sylus, who makes an effort to engage in royal public affairs but almost always fails. It’s not exactly his fault if an emergency at the border demands his attention or if a riot in the crowd forces him to intervene. More often than not, these events end in the townspeople divided—some casting wary glances and murmured disapproval, while others raise him onto an impossibly high pedestal.

Prince!Sylus, who finds himself on yet another abrupt mission—riding his black stallion to the kingdom’s border to quell a serious rebellion attempt, all while in the middle of yet another failed attempt at royal public affairs. Having spent more years on the battlefield than he can count, the prince has seen many things—but a woman from the neighboring kingdom fighting their rebels is enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

The familiar crest of the neighboring kingdom was the first thing that caught Sylus's eyes after he had cut down the rampaging rebels. Confusion washed over him next but he quickly pushed it aside as he ordered his soldiers to tend to your wounds. 

And that’s where you found yourself, waking up to a sore body and the white haired man who was sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room. Instincts kick in and you immediately search your surroundings—nothing but a normal looking inn. Four walls, two windows, a door, a bed, a chair and a table. Looking down, you find your side wrapped in bandages as well as your left arm. 

“Don’t move too much, I wouldn’t want the precious princess to be injured.” 

The first thing that caught your eyes was his crimson eyes, the second was that cocky smile of his that all you wanted to do was punch it right off his face. You knew who this was almost immediately. You recognized him instantly. The renowned Warrior Prince, ruthless and bloodthirsty. As a soldier, you always knew your paths would cross someday, but never did you expect it to happen like this.

Getting up to leave, that’s when you feel a tug on your right wrist and immediately realized you were chained. “What the heck? I demand to be released at once, unless you want our kingdoms to go to war.”

It wasn’t an empty threat. Sure your kingdom may have been smaller, but you had a team of elite forces that your father had cultivated for decades, even against Sylus's overwhelming numbers of troops and advanced technology, you were sure that victory would be assured.

Sylus smirks, leaning in slightly as he meets your glare head-on, “War? Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He tilts his head, his crimson eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You’re not a hostage—you're a key to peace. So, why don’t we talk?”

A scoff leaves your throat as your eyes roll. Who in their right mind would hold up a princess, chain her up and say that ‘she’s not a hostage’. The thought alone seems absurd and here the mad man sat, his muscular legs spread as he wore lavish clothing. 

“Are you not afraid? Holding a princess like this. What makes you so sure that as soon as I’m back I won’t wage war on you?”

His crimson eyes glinted under the dim inn lights, sending a wave of unease through you. He was too calm, too collected. The sheer audacity of his actions had to be backed by something—otherwise, he wouldn’t have done something this reckless. “I have my ways.”

Manipulation? Torture? Those were the first thoughts that raced through your mind. But nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for this. The Warrior Prince, feared across battlefields, was… harvesting fruit? Wearing a simple farmer’s hat, he plucked cherries from the trees with practiced care, ensuring the stems remained intact before placing them gently into the basket on his back.

The scene seemed unreal. What was even more unreal was that you were helping him. Turning your head to look behind you, you saw how your basket was half full with cherries and suddenly a plan brewed in your head, “If I collect more cherries then you’ll let me go home.” “And if not?” His deep, husky voice cut through the air as he didn’t stop—his attention was still on the cherry tree in front of him as he continued to pluck. 

“Then I might consider not waging war.” 

After an hour, it became painfully clear that this deal had never been in your favor. Your basket was full, yet Sylus had already filled two—and he was still going. Only after enduring a few snarky remarks from the prince did you finally, albeit reluctantly, admit defeat.

He took you to a restaurant. At first, you held your ground, refusing to eat as you watched him casually enjoy his meal, occasionally feeding nuts to the crow perched on his shoulder. But then, one particular dish arrived, and its scent hit you like a charging horse. That was the moment you gave in—and what a decision that was. The cuisine of Sylus's kingdom was rich in flavor and creativity, with unexpected ingredients complementing each other in ways that somehow worked out. 

You didn’t want to see it, but nonetheless the sigh of Sylus's smirk returns as he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, “For someone so stubborn, you sure caved pretty fast.” 

Ignoring his words, you continue to eat, thinking of a response. Any time wasted on him would be time wasted from eating and you sure as hell weren’t sure when you would be back to eat this. However, before you’re even about to retort, he speaks again, this time his voice lower,

“You don’t always have to put up a front. You can just… enjoy things. No one’s going to think less of you for it.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. The way he says it—so casual, yet oddly sincere—makes your heart skip a beat and the gears in your brain malfunction. Sure, you were also a renowned warrior, but this was empathy shown by someone who’s name revolved around being cold and inhumane.

But before you could answer or dwell on it, his smirk returned, "That said, if you keep eating like that, I might start thinking you were starving before I found you."

The tone had shifted back. But that didn’t mean you had forgotten what he said. The whole day had revealed a side of the Warrior Prince that wasn’t so warrior-like. Those rumors were almost instantly shut down, and honestly, you were intrigued with what was more to come.

Prince!Sylus, who spends the next few days with you. Harvesting fruits, cooking and nightly walks were full of competition. Who could harvest the most? Who could cook the better food? Who could run to the other side faster? Who could find the most constellations? Each time Sylus would win, and even though it did sour your mood, it was refreshing to see what he did afterwards. He would never gloat, only being quiet and then asking you something about yourself and your kingdom. 

Prince!Sylus, who you finally see when he practices his swordsmanship when you woke up early one day. The sun hadn’t risen yet, yet you heard the sounds of grunts and swinging just outside of the inn. And that’s where the prince was, standing outside in the dark with only the moonlight being his light source as he practiced hundreds of techniques. 

Prince!Sylus, who the next day allowed you to win in a contest of who could guess the most ingredients in a dish. He had made it seem close, but you knew he had let you win by the soft smile he thought was discreet when the chef, trembling from Sylus's imposing presence, hesitantly declared you the winner. You surprised yourself when you, in return, asked something about him, instead of leaving. The moment the question left your lips did you realize how much more you were curious about the white haired man.

Prince!Sylus, who engaged in more competitions with you; who could shoot the farthest. Who could best each other at the spear. And finally, who would win in a swordfight. The training grounds grew a crowd as you two battled it out. The fight lasted for hours and only stopped because Sylus had urgent matters to attend to, one of his two faithful soldiers rushing over and nearly getting decapitated by your sword.

Prince!Sylus, who apologized to you and gave you a smug smile before saying how he hopes that you don’t wage war on him. He arranged a carriage for you and assigned soldiers to ensure your safe journey back. And just like that, you found yourself back in your kingdom, your mind swirling and trying to comprehend that the last two weeks weren't a dream.

Prince!Sylus, who swiftly sent a message to your kingdom, his loyal soldier racing to deliver the news to your father a mere 3 days after your return. The message conveyed Sylus's intent to form a peace treaty, and he hoped the king would graciously welcome his visit in a week's time.

Prince!Sylus, who kept stealing glances at you during the welcoming banquet. His eyes were practically glued to you, and he didn’t even try to hide it. Shame? He had none. The entire hall could see his intense focus, and even when you caught him, he refused to look away. It was like a silent staring contest, and when you finally broke the gaze, he couldn’t resist the small, satisfied smirk that tugged on his lips.

Prince!Sylus, who announced a marriage treaty. If you married him then both kingdoms would have peace for many more years to come. Peace that even if you betrayed him he still wouldn’t attack you or your kingdom. It was sudden and your father was reluctant, waiting for your answer. However, with your officials only supporting the idea and informing you of how much that would benefit your kingdom, you agreed.

Prince!Sylus, whose vows, even though the marriage was shallow in terms of relationship and deeper in functionality, touched your heart. He vowed to protect your kingdom as fiercely as his own. To cherish every quiet moment with you, even in the midst of chaos. He promised to be your refuge, your unwavering presence, no matter the storms that may come. And to, above all, ensure that you never had to fight alone—whether in battle or in life. 

A/N: IM SO SORRY ITS BEEN LIKE A WEEK- I HAVE NO EXCUSE EXCEPT FOR WRITERS BLOCK. I promise Caleb's one will be within 3 day this time T^T. THANK YOU GUYS FOR 192 FOLLOWERS HOLY- honestly I might need to also make this into a 200 followers special soon because of how fast you guys give me love :,). I love all of you guys so much aughh <3333 Dividers by @mikeykuns

Taglist: @seris-the-amious

[dokcha]

@/mon_r1008: ボスおめでとうーー！！！！！！！！！！

[flaneur001]

One step Closer

Pairings- Sylus x Fem!Reader

Tags- Fluff

Word count- 1700

Summary- Back from a tanked deal, Sylus is agitated. Only to chance upon something that lifts his spirits.

Sylus had never seen you cry before. There were moments. Of raw emotion splitting through your anger and brimming like dark clouds, a rumbling oncoming storm, reflected in your eyes. Yet it never followed by rain as he expected. 

You would excuse yourself and hide away until the storm passed. Not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you at your lowest. And that always left Sylus reeling. Making him feel a dull twinge in his chest, knowing that you don’t trust him enough to touch that vulnerable part of yours. Not yet.

But he left you be. His snarky kitten, licking her wounds in private. And when you returned, emotionally recharged, with that cheeky biting facade, he welcomed you back. Never addressing what had passed. It was an unspoken agreement between you and him. And he respected that. 

Besides, Sylus was never one to hit where it hurts. 

Where’s the fun in messing with the weak?

If he wanted to fight, he needed his kitten to give back in equal measure. With her claws out and her hackles raised.

One late evening, he barged in his mansion. Waves of frustration and anger rippled through him. He made quick work of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders, nimble fingers undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, as he bounded towards the bar in his study. His head throbbed just thinking about the mess that the deal had turned out to be. 

Gods, He needed a drink.

The hue of his decor reflected on the floor to ceiling window, painting the city outside crimson. He stood before it, taking in the signs of life spread like little shiny dots lining across the streets, meditating, a soft calm washing over his senses with each sip of the whiskey burning down his throat.

When the last notes of the song playing on his vinyl crescendoed, he put his glass down. Suddenly noticing the silence in the mansion. You were staying over this weekend, and while Sylus loved the company of his own thoughts, and the voice of solitude, his curiosity piqued. For as much as you’d like to think that you were the picture of poise, he knew what you really were. A radiant ball of energy. A noisy little Kitten.

Folding his sleeves up to his forearms, he refilled his glass. The amber liquid sloshed, faintly splishling onto his slender fingers, as he pushed open his study door and strained his ears for any sign of chaos in his house. 

Nothing. He could’ve dropped a pin and would still hear it echo in this moment. This made him nervous. He methodically checked every nook and cranny until he stopped outside your bedroom. 

Well, it was his guest bedroom, but he liked to think of it as yours. It was full of your belongings, and spare clothes. And he would never admit it, but some days when you weren’t able to visit the N109 zone, he would quietly slip in your room and spend the evening there. Placating himself with the soft scent of your perfume lingering in the sheets. 

In his mind he had given you a place to come back to. A home away from home.

Dull chatter reached his ears, followed by occasional sniffles and sobs. He stood straighter, a faint crease pinching his brows, his shoulders squared, getting instantly on guard. Fingers clenching around the glass, he hesitantly pushed open the door. A sliver. Just enough to make sure you were okay. But he simply wasn’t prepared for the sight before him.

Three heads, huddled together on the couch. The room was swathed in pitch darkness, save for the flickering, colorful glare of the TV illuminating the occupants. 

He relaxed, rolling his eyes in an I-can’t-believe-what-I’m-seeing manner. An amused curiosity translated into a feline-like grin on his lips and he watched, leaning on the doorframe, taking leisurely sips of his drink.

You were sat in the centre, sandwiched between Luke and Kieran on either side, holding a big popcorn bucket on your lap. Three hands blindly groped in the bucket for the salty treat, munching and mumbling, quiet comments about the movie playing on the screen.

By the looks of it, Sylus guessed it was a typical romantic tragedy. And he had walked in during the climax. The hero was laid across the heroine’s lap, bruised, coughing blood, muttering his final dying words and you choked, crying up a river as Luke and Kieran consoled you with wads of tissues and coos of “there-there” complete with soothing pats on the back.

It was certainly…something

Being the character he is, Sylus sneaked up, tiptoeing towards the couch. He was giddy. Or maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but suddenly he had this urge. Of picking you up and spinning you around. To press kisses onto those tear stained cheeks. 

He had missed you.

“Never thought I’d see the day when I catch the brave hunter crying over…fiction” He drawled.

His chin was placed on your shoulder, subtly breathing in gulps of your scent. Nose occasionally pressing against your pulse, which was going crazy under the vibrations of his deep baritone.

You flinched, almost toppling the bucket of popcorn on the floor. Bless Kieran, for the last minute save.

Luke paused the movie and the trio turned around with sheepish sputtered greetings.

“Hey-hey Boss—”

“Didn’t expect you home so early—”

“We were just killing time—”

“Hush” He intoned, eyes piercing straight into yours as wispy tendrils of his evol snatched the remote from the coffee table and turned off the TV. 

All he needed was a sharp raise of his brow for Luke and Kieran to go scampering out the room, letting the heavy set door shut close behind them.

The room was bathed in complete darkness now. You stood there hugging yourself, suddenly very self conscious about the tears still wet on your cheeks. 

“Sylus…”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

He stepped closer, not needing any light to sense your presence. He was comfortable in the dark. 

You stepped back, until your legs hit the couch, effectively cornered. You chewed at your bottom lip, feeling him close the distance between you. His arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you, holding the back of the couch as he leaned down. His presence today was vivid. Strong. Masculine. A heady mix of Alcohol, sweat, and his cologne.

You gulped, as you felt his fingers trail down your arm in a slow caress. His face was nestled into the crook of your neck again. Breathing, soft puffs of whiskey warm breaths across your hypersensitive skin, leaving prickles of goosebumps in its wake.

Your eyelids fluttered, head ever so subtly craning to allow him better access, when your eyes snapped open. He had entwined your hands, threading his fingers in that very Sylus manner. But what made a soft laugh of disbelief escape your lips, were the wads of tissues he was pressing into your palm.

“I could most certainly help, but…” He trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was implying. He knew.

Months of this game of cat and mouse and he had read you like an open book. He had caught onto your discomfort about crying in front of him. Your hesitance about sharing your weak side with him.

He had witnessed your anger, red hot and destructive. Your laughter, dipped in shades of soft pastel hues. Your sadness, crippling, veiled under the gossamer glooms of blue. You had shared too much already. Given away bits of yourself too easily.

But your tears? He wasn’t allowed to see them. Not yet. 

Why?

Because you weren’t ready.

To be so honest with him. To give away that last piece that would chain you to him. Because if he left, wouldn’t that leave you empty? 

You would be colorless. Dull. Meaningless.

For in the end, they all leave. What makes him any different?

He left your embrace. Putting a little distance between your bodies, not far, but not too close either. In the dark you could faintly see the outline of his head turn away. And your heart jolted.

Picking up the rhythm in a mad dance. It thumped harshly across your chest, making you worry that he’d be able to listen to it in the silence enveloping the room.

In his rough but clumsy manner he was giving you space. Handing you the reins to control whatever this was that you shared with him. He was allowing you to hide your emotions in the dark while he waited. A show of patience, so unlike him.

You wiped your cheeks. Glad for the darkness, hiding the stupid smile refusing to leave your face, and the flush crawling up your neck. He was dangerous for your weak heart.

After a moment of awkward shuffling, Sylus turned around, heading towards the door. Feeling the dull staccato of rejection ringing in his ears he was about to pull the door open—when he felt two arms snake around his waist. 

You rested your head on his broad back and held him. Nuzzling, breathing in his cologne and listening to his sharp breaths, you stayed like that. Quiet and content in the dark.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, Kitten?” He husked, voice scratchy and deep.

“Thank you…”

“Well, if you really are that thankful, there are other ways of showing your gratitude” He teased, and you could picture his typical smirk, and playful red eyes, blinking up a storm of quick excited swoops in your belly.

“Don’t push it” You tightened your hold around his waist in an empty threat. A smile blossoming across your cheeks, after the soft shower of rain.

“Alright” he put his hand over yours and sighed. 

Basking in this simple moment, his earlier sour mood long forgotten, he stood grinning. No amount of great deals would ever stand close to this little victory.

One day you will let him see every single aspect of you. Let him collect the pieces to the puzzle named you. One day he will have you…the complete you.

And when he does, he will never let go.

[xfgpng]

— [ nsfw ] :: threesome, DP!, cunnilingus, fingering

— wc :: 1.3k

💌 (here for comms)

the sand on the beach is warm this time of day. it’s mostly dark thanks to the ocean and anyone else would be scared to be out here alone and maybe apart of her is but she’s always been drawn to the ocean and the cold breeze.

in a similar way, she’s always been drawn to the darkness and the beach lights are dim enough to create a little safe space for her to sit and think.

most nights, she wouldn’t walk so near to the water, it’s just too dark and while she could swim, this was taking a different kind of risk.

“scared sweetheart?”

the voice comes from somewhere behind her but when she turns, there’s nothing there. in the distance she can make out her villa but that’s about it. it’s too late for anyone else to be awake.

she looks towards the water and her heart stops. there’s a man, floating around the water like it’s the most natural thing to do at this time of night but he looks … different.

for one, it’s not halloween but his outfit would make it seem that way. the blue looks good against his skin and the tattoos look pretty.. she’s almost too lost in thought to notice how much closer she is to the water, her toes touch the edge and she gasps at how cold it is.

“we watch you come out here most nights”

it’s another voice and the sight of the taller man on the rocks sends a shiver down her spine but she’s not sure if it’s unpleasant or not.

he too, looks like he’s ready for some costume party. a dragon perhaps? his red eyes are glowing and it’s more prominent because of how dark the ocean makes everything.

she wants to run, she probably should and she’d likely make it home on time but she doesn’t.

“who… are you guys?” she finds herself asking

“sylus” the taller man says and she swears she sees his .. tail? moving

“rafayel” the other man says and he’s grinning at her. she’s not sure what’s so funny right now but she’s not going to ask either.

“why are you out here by yourself?” sylus grins, moving closer to her, his long black tail wrapping around her waist. her eyes widen.

“i like it here” she shrugs, “.. is that—”

“real?” rafayel laughs and as he swims closer, she sees it.

“oh my god” her jaw drops. a beautiful tail, long and shiny. the moonlight catches the scales giving off the illusion that it sparkles, though she suspects it’s not an illusion after all.


she’s pinched her own thigh twice and it hurts but worst of all, she’s not dreaming.

“why don’t you join me?” rafayel all but purrs, “the water isn’t so deep here”

“why on earth would i do that?” she takes a step back, bumping up against sylus, “it’s cold .. and dark and i don’t even know you!”

“but you can get to know us darling” sylus whispers, cupping her jaw softly. his long nails lightly trail up the side of her neck.

“is this some kind of joke?” she glares but even as she says it, she knows it’s not.

she can’t understand why she’s not making a run for it or why she’s still allowing sylus to hold her and move closer to rafayel again.

“the ocean is safe… as long as i’m with you” rafayel grins, reaching out to hold her ankle.

“so pretty” he coos, grinning.

“she is, isn’t she?” sylus whispers against her ear, kissing her jaw, “is this okay beautiful?”

she finds herself nodding, looking out at the water and then at rafayel.

sylus lays her down on the warm sand, right in the water. he’s sharp nails nip at her skin and she hisses, biting her lip to suppress a moan.

“oh.. she likes that” rafayel chuckles, swimming closer until he’s upper body hovers over hers, “you’re not scared?”

“… i’d say it’s more confused arousal right now” she mumbles.

sylus laughs loud, the sound rich and deep that sends a shiver through her body once more. she could blame it on the cool air hitting her skin as rafayel lifts her dress up but his body is warm and wet against her own.

“between us, there are 4” he grins, his eyes darkening and she’s heard stories of his kind. lemurians and she knows the tales of mermen who become so obsessed with their human that they can become dangerous.

the same would go for dragons, while they are highly intelligent and primal creatures, their love knows no bounds.

still, she didn’t bother to study any of their anatomy and up until now, that’s not something that has ever crossed her mind.

her eyes widen as she feels cold and wet fingers against her core.

“open up” sylus says softly as he sinks down onto the sand beside her. he cups her breasts, gently grazing her nipple. it stings for a moment before it’s replaced by his wet tongue.

“oh” she gasps, her hands gripping rafayel’s shoulder and in that moment of bliss, rafayel slips two long fingers into her as sylus plays with her body.

sylus uses his tail to wrap around her bare thigh and keep her legs open. she was truly a sight to behold and he’d have to kill anyone else that walked by tonight.

no one else could have the pleasure of seeing her laid out before them, the moon illuminating her beautiful skin. no one else should.

“the things i want to do to you” rafayel says, biting her earlobe as his fingers move faster. he wants to take his time but he knows they don’t have much time before the sun comes up.

she’s hoisted up by sylus’ tail so he can sit underneath her, keeping her against his chest.

“good girl” he purrs, still massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples as he kisses and nips at her neck.

“she’s perfect” rafayel groans as he leans down to suck on her clit. he moans into her pussy, his own eyes rolling back as she moans.

“fuck” she moans louder and sylus takes the opportunity to kiss her, his hand sliding down her body to rub her clit as rafayel eats her pussy like a starved man.

she feels sylus underneath her, both of his thick cocks rubbing between her ass and thighs. she feels so overstimulated in the best way.

“too much?” he teases and she nods, though she’s not sure because she doesn’t want them to stop.

rafayel lifts his head and licks his lips.

“you taste so good” rafayel groans, kissing her thigh.

“don’t be greedy” sylus grins, lifting her up, “you ready?”

she’s nervous but she nods.

“yes” she says, “please… just —”

he gently thrusts up into her, not both just yet because he knows it might be too much for her and he doesn’t want to hurt her as much as he wishes he could be inside her completely.

“there you go gorgeous” rafayel praises, his own cock pressing against her entrance too, “how about we practice hm?”

she’s too overwhelmed to speak but even in her haze, she sees him pressing in and she thinks she screams but she’s not sure anymore.

everything feels so good despite how full she feels. she can feel them moving together inside her and she looks down to see the bulge.

“hurts” she moans but she loves it. it’s the kind of pain she happily takes as she’s bounced on their cocks.

her legs are shaking and she’s only a little worried about not being able to walk but she’s too far gone now to care.

rafayel’s moans are louder and deeper while sylus is more breathy as he groans in her ear and when rafayel kisses her, she cums so hard she thinks her has an out of body experience.

though she was always one for the dramatics after all.

[asiatic-apple]

you already know i love your sylus works (a big fan) and forgive me if you’ve done it but can i pretty please have smut prompt #17 with female reader for sylus ✨

I was so honored to write this for youuu, my #1 sylus fan!! I hope it's to your liking ❤️ Thank you so much for being here, and I hope the long wait for this was worth it

Proof of ownership

Sylus x female reader

Words: 1.1k

Prompt: seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remembering how it got there in the first place

Content: use of “sweetie” and “kitten” as pet names, maybe too much dirty talking lol, very slightly implied exhibitionism, fingering, possessive sylus

Luke's low snicker is the first thing you hear when you enter the living room of Onychinus's base. You try to ignore it, only sparing him a confused look before returning to whatever you were planning to do before the distracting sound.

Ah, that's right—you came here to grab the hair tie you left on the coffee table yesterday. But your satisfied smile at finding it is quickly wiped away the second Kieran fails to stifle a giggle.

You freeze mid-motion, arms still halfway up after gathering your hair into a messy bun, and glance over your shoulder.

Sure enough, the twins are staring at you—clearly the object of their amusement.

“What?” you ask, already bristling at the way they nudge each other in between chuckles.

Luke shrugs, bringing a hand to the absurd-looking beak of his mask, as if he's hiding a grin. “Nothing,” he sputters, not so convincingly.

Kieran doesn’t even bother trying to lie. “Looks like someone had a fun night,” he drawls.

It takes you a second to register what he means. Then you remember how sore the skin along the junction of your neck and shoulders felt this morning. It was a bit too far in the back to see in a mirror, so you didn't know the extent of what Sylus left there last night.

But now you're putting two and two together.

Heat rushes to your face, your hands flying up to cover the back of your neck, even though it’s far too late for that. Luke and Kieran's snickering fades as you leave in a huff.

With each stomp you take toward Sylus’s bedroom, your embarrassment turns to annoyance before you barge in and shut the door a little harder than intended.

Sylus barely looks up from the book he's reading by the fireplace, but you swear there's a slight tug at his lips as soon as you growl his name. It's like he knew this would happen.

You cross your arms when you stop in front of him. “Would you care to explain why Luke and Kieran were laughing, quite literally behind my back?”

He leaves you in a few seconds of suspense before his deep scarlet eyes lock onto your pouting face. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, sweetie,” he replies, an infuriatingly smug lilt to his voice.

The sudden, gentle push of his Evol at your lower back teeters you off balance—just enough for you to fall forward. Right as you land in Sylus’s lap, he chucks his book to the small table beside him. Now his attention is fully on you.

“Sylus,” you warn, cheeks still warm from a heady combination of mortification and the fact that you’re pressed against him now. “Just how much of a mark did you leave on me last night?”

He hums, nuzzling into your neck with a chuckle. “What’s wrong?” He plants a heated kiss to your skin, presumably atop one of the hickeys he left there. “You don’t like the gift I left for you?”

You should push him away. Really, you should. But then his teeth scrape the spot right where the faintest sting still lingers, and your pussy clenches beneath rapidly dampening cotton.

“Even after I was so meticulous with my…art.” He tuts in faux disappointment. “I assume you still haven’t taken a proper look at it.”

You gasp as he brushes his fingers over the collection of bruises he left, his finger hooking in your shirt collar to tug it a bit further down your shoulder.

At some point between his distracting touches and kisses, his phone ends up in his hand. The ‘click’ of the camera’s shutter makes you groan softly in frustration. But then he turns the screen toward you, letting your eyes land on the picture of your marked up flesh.

The bruises form a rough, messy shape, but it’s deliberate in its composition: a small line, twisting like a snake to form a bold ‘S’.

You give him a pointed look of annoyance. But arousal stirs at the sight of his initial bitten into your skin. He doesn’t miss the flash of lust in your eyes. His canines peek out between curved lips—a wicked smile that only heightens the feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m quite proud of it,” Sylus murmurs before locking his phone and tossing it aside. “It took a lot of restraint not to…stray from the path. You were moaning so sweetly.” His lips return to your neck, tongue flicking out to glide along the marks. “But that just meant you liked it.”

You don’t respond, but the way your hips jerk against his lap betrays you. He chuckles knowingly, dragging his hands down to your waist.

Leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “And I think you liked getting caught.”

His fingers slowly dip beneath the stretchy waistband of your lounge shorts and then your underwear. You gasp when the rough digits graze your aching clit. But he doesn’t stop the descent until his large hand is cupping your pussy and applying gentle pressure.

“You walked around all day like this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss just below the base of your neck. “With my initial on your skin and this pretty cunt aching for me.”

You barely get out a sound before he slides two fingers inside you, curling expertly until you’re gasping into his chest.

“Are you going to let me do it again, sweetie?” he asks with all the innocence of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Maybe lower, this time. Somewhere they’ll never see. But you’ll feel the sting every time you sit down.”

His thumb rubs against your clit with mind-numbing pressure. Just the right amount to make you moan a bit too loudly. You whimper, rocking against his hand to take his fingers deeper, faster.

He laughs that low, breathy, too-sexy laugh that makes you grit your teeth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispers. “Hm, such a desperate little thing. Something tells me you’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?”

He circles your clit a bit faster now, and your whole body shudders. His thick fingers feel like heaven when they curl and press just right. And Sylus knows exactly how you like it.

Still, he’s holding back—deliberately denying you the right push to make you fall apart.

“You need to say it properly if you want me to give it to you,” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “Come on. Say you want more evidence of my affection for you, kitten.”

“Yes,” you whine too quickly, “yes—fuck—I want more, please.”

His lips curl into a sly grin as they trail more tender kisses against your neck. He’s gentle for now, aware of how sore this part of your body might be. But you know he’s not making empty threats. After you gush around his fingers, he’ll surely take you to bed and spend more time marking you up elsewhere.

“When I’m done,” he promises softly, “you’ll be dripping with reminders of me.”

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[rika-mmendmethings]

Belly Dance | Sylus

Summary: Sylus unearths a college-era belly dancing outfit during your move-in to his house. After you reluctantly agree to perform, his awe and love help you rediscover the fun, confident person you were. The night ends in passion and sensuality as Sylus shows you just how beautiful you have always been.

Tag(s): belly dancer! Reader x bf! Sylus, written with a female reader in mind, fluff, sensuality, mildly suggestive, fade to black, insecurities, kinda au idk???

Word count: 3.3k

Now playing: Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé and Shakira

Notes: Got suggested a few reels of absolutely gorgeous women belly dancing on this song, and the rest was history. Writing this was less of a pain since I'm quite adapted to writing for Sylus. Hopefully you enjoy reading this as well ♥

The apartment was filled with the soft rustling of cardboard as the task of moving into Sylus’s place stretched into its third hour. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, lazy shadows across the wooden floors. You stood among a sea of cardboard boxes, surrounded by the mismatched chaos of your things — clothes, books, framed photos, knick-knacks from various places you'd lived, and little trinkets that each carried a memory. Today was the day you were officially moving in with Sylus, and as you carefully unpacked your things, you felt a wave of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. The air smelled faintly of lavender from the air fresheners Sylus had placed.

Sylus was behind you, moving about with an easy grace, methodically folding your clothes and putting them in drawers. You glanced around. The place was mostly empty, save for a few scattered boxes and the odd piece of furniture — most of the bigger pieces had already been moved in. You were mentally running through the checklist in your head that you didn’t even notice Sylus calling out to you at first, his voice cutting through the quiet atmosphere.

“Sweetie, what’s this?” he asked, the words laced with surprise and curiosity.

His voice was tinged with amusement, and you could tell he was holding something up, clearly intrigued by whatever he'd just unearthed. You didn’t turn to look right away. Instead, you lifted a box of your own, checking the contents as you sorted them into piles. You were so engrossed in organizing everything just so that you didn’t quite register the change in his tone until he continued.

“It’s... beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding almost reverent now.

At that, you turned around fully, a frown already forming on your face, only to freeze in your tracks when you saw what he was holding. In his hands, Sylus was gently lifting a belly dancing outfit — a stunning set of rich, maroon fabric adorned with delicate gold beads and sequins that glittered faintly in the light. It was the outfit you had bought years ago for a silly bet you’d lost with your friends back in college, and one you hadn’t thought about in months. The top, a halter-style design, was made to hug the contours of the body, while the skirt was sheer and flowing, the kind that danced with every twist of the hips.

You didn’t even realize you’d already taken a step toward him until you were dashing across the room, a gasp escaping you. “Sylus, no!” you half-laughed, half-scolded as you stretched out your arms to grab the shimmering material. But of course, he was much taller than you, and the outfit was far out of your reach, held high above his head. His smile spread even further, amused by your quick reaction, and he stepped back just enough to keep you from grabbing it.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, and with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he danced out of your reach once more. “I don’t know... this is really pretty,” he taunted, inspecting the outfit more closely. “I’m just surprised I’ve never seen it before. Do you belly dance?”

You froze mid-step, eyes widening, and your body tensed instinctively as you registered his words. His Cheshire smile was widening, and there was something undeniably playful in his gaze. You blinked twice, unable to form words for a moment, before you quickly crossed the room to stand in front of him, hands on your hips in an exaggerated motion of mock annoyance.

“Give that back!” you demanded, your voice thick with embarrassment. The red in your cheeks gave away how flustered you were, and you reached up again, trying to snatch it away, but to no avail.

He tilted his head, watching you with an utterly delighted expression, clearly enjoying this moment far more than he had any right to. “What’s the story behind this?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to give it a soft, teasing lilt. “You never told me you belly danced.”

You exhaled in frustration, biting the inside of your cheek, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You stood there for a long moment, your hands still raised in a half-attempted grab. There was no escaping this now. You might as well come clean.

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes as you put your hands down, your expression melting into something more sheepish. “You really want to know?”

Sylus nodded eagerly, a smirk still dancing on his lips as he waited. His face was playful, but there was an underlying sincerity in his gaze, as though he genuinely wanted to understand.

You let out a sigh, feeling both embarrassed and strangely warm from the look in his eyes. “Okay, okay,” you began, your voice a little quieter now, “In my final year of college, my friends and I were part of a small group — a little clique. We were always making silly bets and pranks on each other. Anyway, we were having this trivia contest one weekend, and I lost too. So, the bet was that I, along with the other girls who lost, had to join this belly dancing club at the local community center.”

Sylus mused. “Belly dancing?”

“Yep.” You grinned sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It was a two-month program. We had to go to lessons every week. I won’t lie, at first, we were all ridiculously self-conscious and awful, but after a while... It was actually kinda fun. There was this one friend of mine who was so into it, and she got us all hyped up.”

You paused, lost in the memory. It had been such an unexpectedly fun experience. “Anyway, after the program ended, one of the girls threw this huge sleepover at her house. We all decided to bring our glittery outfits — because, why not? We were all completely drunk on the fun of the whole thing, and we danced around like idiots, trying to outdo each other. It wasn’t... it wasn’t a great performance or anything, but it was hilarious and a good souvenir from my final year.”

You trailed off, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at Sylus, who had been listening intently, his face unreadable for a few moments as he mulled over your words. The silence in the room felt different now, charged, full of something unspoken. His gaze was thoughtful as he met yours, fingers gently toying with the fabric of the outfit in his hands.

Finally, Sylus spoke again, his voice quiet but filled with something that caught your attention. He spoke with a slight request, a softness that seemed hesitant. “So, um...” His voice trailed off as his gaze softened. “Could you... show me?”

You blinked, stunned. “Show you?” The words left your mouth before you even processed them. You rubbed your arm, heat flaring up in your cheeks. The thought of dancing in front of Sylus, of him watching you — in the way that made you all hot and bothered — was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You hesitated, biting your lip, but then you saw it — the pleading look in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a small pout. The effect was immediate. It was so uncharacteristically adorable that you found yourself melting, despite the nervous flutter in your nerves. You never stood a chance.

“You really want me to?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed you.

“I’m not going to... be good. It’s been years since I last danced,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Sylus said, his voice so soft now, almost coaxing, “Besides, I personally think that you’d be my Shakira.”

You let out a laugh at that but inwardly melted at his sincerity. “Okay, fine.”

As you stepped into the bathroom to change, the soft click of the door closing behind you did little to block out the swirl of critical thoughts rushing through your mind.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a long moment before slipping into the outfit. As you pulled the top over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice how the fabric felt tighter across your chest, how the waistband of the skirt sat differently on your hips. You tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it as though that might make it fit just like it did in those carefree days. But it didn’t. The outfit was a little snugger now, and that familiar feeling of unease began to creep in.

You bit your lip, studying yourself more intently. Your reflection seemed foreign, as though it didn’t belong in the same outfit you’d worn just a few years ago. This isn’t how it used to look. You felt the uncomfortable weight of your own self-doubt creeping in, clouding the excitement that had originally made you agree to Sylus’s request.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open startled you, and you turned quickly. Sylus was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted. You were still caught in your spiral of self-doubt, suddenly feeling too exposed in front of him. His eyes moved over you slowly, taking in the fabric of the outfit, the shimmer of the beads catching the light.

"You look stunning," he said, his voice quiet, but steady.

You crossed your arms over your chest, awkwardly, almost like you were trying to hide yourself. You couldn’t help it; the words still felt distant, not quite convincing enough. "It... doesn’t fit like it used to," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, like the words themselves might shatter the fragile confidence you were trying to hold onto. "I— I don’t know... I don’t look the same anymore."

He took a slow step toward you, his movements easy, as if he were already certain of what he wanted to say — and for a moment, it calmed the frantic chatter in your mind. You felt your breath catch when his hands reached out, gently pushing your arms away from your body. He gently lifted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“You know," he said softly, "it doesn’t matter how it used to fit. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

His eyes, warm and steady, never wavered from yours as he continued, “The outfit doesn’t define you. You define it. You always have.”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, the lingering doubts still tugging at you. “But I—” you began, but Sylus cut you off with a gentle shake of his head, his thumb softly brushing against your chin.

“You’re perfect the way you are,” he said, the words carrying an undeniable sincerity that stopped you in your tracks. “Nothing has changed about how amazing you are. The body you have now? It’s the one I fell in love with. And I’m telling you, the way you move your curves in that outfit...” He let out a soft chuckle, eyes twinkling with affection. “It’s gonna be ten times better than before, I promise.”

His words were so simple, but there was such undeniable truth to them. The self-consciousness that had taken root in your chest slowly started to loosen, replaced by a warm sense of reassurance. Sylus wasn’t looking at you with the same judgmental gaze you feared; he was seeing you beyond the nerves and self-doubt, straight to the person you were, right there, in front of him.

With a deep breath, you let your arms fall to your sides, as the last traces of doubt melted away. His words had broken through that negative cloud hanging over you, and you realized he wasn’t seeing what you saw when you looked at yourself. He wasn’t comparing you to anyone or anything, least of all some distant, youthful version of yourself.

You took a steadying breath and finally gave him a smile, one that was small but full of gratitude. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

Sylus’s grin broke wide across his face, the warmth in his eyes making your heart skip a beat. “That’s my girl,” he said, stepping back to give you some space. “I’m going to wait for the show.”

When you emerged a few minutes after him, Sylus was waiting on the bed, looking up at you with such anticipation that you couldn’t help but feel your heart stuttering. His eyes traced the delicate beads that shimmered along the top of the outfit, the way the skirt swayed as you moved. His gaze was so full of admiration that it made you feel almost weightless.

The first few seconds of music you had set filled the room, and you closed your eyes, letting the sound settle into your bones. You took a breath and rolled your shoulders, letting your hips follow the flow.

And then — you began.

Your arms rose slowly, your wrists circling with delicate precision as you stepped lightly into the center of the room. The maroon fabric swayed around your legs as your body moved in time with the music. Your hips rolled with practiced, fluid ease — slow at first, teasingly graceful — before picking up the rhythm in waves, each movement melting into the next like silk.

You could feel his eyes on you, heavy and electric, and the weight of his attention made your skin tingle with awareness. Every time you dared to sneak a glance at him, your heart jumped.

He looked completely, utterly undone.

Sylus was frozen where he sat, his hands now curled slightly on his thighs, his lips parted as if he’d meant to say something but had forgotten how. A faint flush had risen high on his cheeks and spilled down his neck, staining his skin a soft rose. His jaw flexed once, but still — no words. Just him, utterly transfixed.

His gaze followed the sway of your torso, the flick of your fingers, the arch of your back as you turned. You dipped your chin coyly, catching him again in a quick glance — and that time, you saw the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his breath coming more shallow now. One of his hands had gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white.

He was mesmerized.

The confidence he’d planted in you just minutes earlier was blooming now, unfurling with every step, every isolated roll of your stomach, every beat that your body translated into movement. You weren’t just dancing to entertain him. You were dancing because it felt good to be seen again. To be desired exactly as you were. To feel alive inside your own skin.

The music faded into a soft echo, and you stood in your final pose, chest rising and falling delicately with your breath, the air thick between you and Sylus. You let the silence linger for just a heartbeat longer before taking a slow step forward.

Then another.

His gaze tracked every inch of you like a man possessed.

You walked with a purposeful sway, letting your hips roll just a little more exaggeratedly than necessary, enjoying the soft jingle of the beads at your waist. You stopped just in front of him, his knees between yours, your fingertips trailing lightly up the side of his jaw, testing him.

Sylus tilted his face into your touch, but he still didn’t speak. His pupils were fully dilated, and the way he licked his lips made heat bloom low in your nether regions. He looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to worship you or pull you into him and never let go.

You leaned in close, your lips barely brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, voice soft, “You’re staring.”

His breath hitched. “Can you blame me?”

A slow smile curled across your lips. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you leaned back just enough to let him see the glint in your eyes before you took a half-step closer and eased onto his lap.

Sylus went completely still beneath you, his hands hovering instinctively at your sides like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you yet. You sat sideways, one leg hooked over his, the skirt of your costume falling open just enough to show the stretch of your thighs. Your fingertips toyed with the fabric at your own hip, the corner of your mouth lifting playfully.

You tilted your head, your voice lowering to a purr. “Did I drive you crazy, huh?”

Sylus leaned in, his nose brushing the line of your jaw, lips ghosting your ear as he whispered, “Absolutely.”

His hands found their place now, sliding around your waist with a reverent kind of slowness, thumbs brushing your bare skin where the top met the curve of your belly. You laughed softly, letting your fingers slide through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You let out a startled sound — a breathy half-gasp, half-laugh — as Sylus suddenly flips you onto your back with such fluidity it leaves your head spinning, causing the maroon fabric of your skirt to fan out around you like a pool of molten silk, catching the soft light, shimmering with the motion. He’s above you now, propped up on his forearms, his body warm and solid over yours, his eyes shining with a mix of lust and unmistakable tenderness.

Your laughter dies down into a soft hum as you meet his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you speak. You feel the weight of his stare, not possessive, but present, grounding you in the moment like nothing else ever had.

Then, his hands slowly begin to move, skimming along the maroon fabric that clings to your body, fingers light and reverent. “What a pretty dress,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe before his sanguine eyes flicker up to you. You smile at the compliment, but it’s what he says next that truly knocks the breath from your lungs.

“And what a prettier you.”

You can’t help the way your breath catches again, how you instinctively roll your eyes, embarrassed but secretly delighted. A blush surges hot up your neck, and you bite your lower lip in a bashful attempt to temper your reaction, but it’s useless — he sees right through you. And judging by the soft, crooked grin on his face, he likes that he can still surprise you.

Before you can even gather a response, Sylus moves — shifts lower, slower, with deliberate care — and plants the softest kiss on your ankle. Your breath hitches again. Then another kiss, just above it. He works his way upward, mouth brushing along your calf, your knee, your inner thigh — lingering longer, his stubble grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp softly and squirm beneath him.

He continues with an almost worshipful focus, trailing higher still, the kisses dotting your soft belly now. He works his way up to your ribs, your shoulders, then along the delicate curve of your collarbone. You’re giggling now, high and breathy, unable to stop yourself, both from the ticklish trail of his mouth and the sheer overwhelming affection of it all. His kisses turn playful along your jaw, your cheeks, the tip of your nose — until finally, finally — his lips brush yours.

It starts as the softest kiss — just a whisper of contact. Then another. And then a deeper one, as though he’s trying to pour everything he feels into that single moment. His hand cradles the side of your face, thumb stroking gently against your cheekbone. When he pulls back — just enough to breathe — you're a kind of giddy that comes from being loved so thoroughly it leaves no room for doubt. You blink up at him, trying to gather yourself, but all that spills out is a shaky laugh as you cover your face with your hands.

You peek at him from behind your hands after a while, unable to stop smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

Sylus grins down at you, before wrapping your legs around his waist. You instantly pick up on his intentions and tease, “We were supposed to unpack.”

“Later, sweetie.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his, “Let me have you for now.”

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[werewolfnarrative]

SYLUS WANTS TO BE CALLED A GOOD BOY AND BE REWARDED SPREAD THE WORD

GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE FOAMING AT THE MOUTH TURNING INTO A RABID BEAST

[fates-violet]

Violet Rose

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Timelock Key: Sealed Realm

Chapters - Stuff - My Characters - Love Interests - Official Alternative Universe's - Events

[beesonhoneytoast]

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happy (late) birthday to sylus from love and deepspace! this piece took 24 hours of tracked time but it was soooo worth it

this character means so much to me and has everything i look for in a partner. he seemed mean and scary at first, but he’s such a sweetheart and i grew a soft spot for him eventually.

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