xomarzz

[xomarzz]

Sylus is actually so sweet UGH.. not only to us but he’ll be such a good girl dad

[xomarzz]

Let’s Get Married

Inspired by Let’s Get Married by Jagged Edge

Sylus adored everything about you. The way you brushed your teeth, the way you laughed, even the way you tripped over the same spot in the base that’s been there forever. He couldn’t not love you. You’ve given him every reason to love you. He loves how you love the boys, he loves how you are eventually able to get along with Mephisto.

He loves that you reassure him on his baddest days. He loves that you take care of him the same way he takes care of you. He could make an endless list of reasons he loved you but then he’d be writing even on his deathbed. You were both slow dancing to one of his many records. He was teaching you how to waltz which turned into you guys just feeling the music.

He stared down at you in admiration. You weren’t done up or in your hunters uniform but laid back and yourself. Your hair was tousled from the long day and you were in your loungewear. A soft smile makes its way onto Sylus’ lips. He was a man of extravagance that much was true but he was also for living in the moment. You take your head off his chest to look at him. You giggle at the fact he was already looking at you with those piercing red eyes.

“What?” You giggle softly, “Is there something on my face?” Sylus just chuckles before sighing.

“Marry me.” He mumbles making you both stop swaying. Did he really just ask you that? Right now?

“Are you serious?” You whisper as if the air was knocked out of you. He smiles making you clutch his hand tighter.

“I don’t joke about things like this.” He assures you, “I’ll do a grander gesture another time. This moment was too perfect to pass up.” He reassured you in case you thought he didn’t care enough to make the gesture.

“Yes.” You whimper as tears sprang to your eyes. He held you close letting the tears run down your face. This is what made life worth living.

Caleb has watched you grow into someone so brave it puts him to shame at times. He can’t help but admire everything you do. He’s always seen a future with you away from Linkon. A nice house, a dog or two, maybe even a kid. Whatever you wanted he would give you. He knew he wanted this, forever. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

You were both watching Gnomeo and Juliet, a movie you guys hadn’t watched since you were kids. Caleb wanted some nostalgia tonight like he does many other nights. You were curled into his side as you both watched the scene of Gnomeo and Juliet meeting. Caleb couldn’t help himself.

“Marry me.” He blurted out, “please.” He whispers but you just stare at him.

“Does Elton John get you in that mood or something?” You question him. What is he thinking? How does this movie make him think that?

“No I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He sighs, his nerves setting in. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to call you my wife.”

You were stunned, not shocked because you’ve seen a future with Caleb. You always have but you never knew when to bring it up to him. Your heart was pounding as you stared at him which didn’t help his nerves at all. What did you have to lose? You both wanted the same thing.

“Yes—yeah, of course.” You ramble making him laugh and pull you into a hug. He kissed your forehead twice and squeezed you tighter. You just made him the happiest man on earth.

You and Xavier were baking, well you were baking and he was passing you ingredients. His cooking got a lot better which was great for you but you didn’t trust him enough to cook alone. You guys were baking some desserts for the hunters association party on tomorrow. You both were having fun and covered in flour and batter. Xavier was making your job a bit harder because he kept ‘tasting’ the mix. You didn’t mind much though because you enjoyed spending time with him. You did tell him to slow down on the eating because you didn’t want him to get a stomachache.

After taking the cake out of the oven, you high five Xavier. He smiles at how happy you were about you guys’ accomplishment. He loved how positive you were about everything. You always found a bright side even if it seemed like there wasn’t one. He knew he loved you when he started staring at you longingly. You put him in a daze just by being you. You occupied his thoughts no matter what was going on.

“We should get married.” He spoke without thinking but he didn’t regret it. You stared at him with wide eyes not fully processing what he just said. Was he proposing? Was he crazy? So many questions and not enough answers.

“Have we been in the kitchen too long?” You ask genuinely. Maybe the fumes were getting to him and he needed to step onto the balcony.

“No.” He laughs before leaning on his elbows on the kitchen counter. His voice became softer as he spoke, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.”

Your jaw was on the floor. You spend the rest of your life with him? This had to be some sort of fever dream. Xavier was straightforward but this was surprising even for him. You couldn’t gather words as he just watched you fumble. You settled with an enthusiastic nod, too tongue tied to give a verbal answer. He smiles at your answer before rounding the counter to kiss you. He was extremely happy that you said yes.

Rafayel can shout from the rooftops about how much he loves you. It would be pointless considering just about everyone in Linkon knows it. He can’t not bring you up whenever he’s having a conversation. He will find anyway to squeeze you in there. He would tattoo it on his chest if he were into it. There is no him without you.

On this particular day he was to unveil an art piece he had been working on for weeks. You knew it was special when he wouldn’t even show you. It intrigued you what was until that veil. Could it be another environmental piece? A new color perhaps? Only time will tell.

Rafayel unveiled the piece for you and immediately your jaw was on the floor. It was of you and him, he dipped you as you held a bouquet of flowers. His nose nuzzled in your neck as you laughed. Anyone would think this was a portrait of a distant memory but no he painted your future together. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. He was proving himself to you in the most beautiful way possible.

“I want nothing more than to wake up to you everyday. Go to sleep with you there everyday.” He starts making your lips tremble. He tilts your chin up to look at his watery eyes, “Marry me?” He asks his voice shaky as he spoke.

“Of course.” You smile wiping your eyes, he holds you close as you fall into his arms. This was a moment that would be engraved into his mind for the rest of his life.

Many thought of Zayne as boring, nonchalant and so forth and so on. Not to you, never to you. He was expressive you just had to get to know him first. He’s thoughtful, kind and caring, many of the reasons why you love him. He loved you for some of the same reasons and even smaller ones than that. He loved the way you’d curl into him unconsciously when you guys were in bed. He loved the way you’d make him lunch with a cute note inside. He loved how you loved him unconditionally. Even when his evol first went out of control in front of you, you didn’t run away or cower away from him, rather you helped him through it.

You guys were basking in the night sky as fireworks exploded in the sky. He could’ve been watching the sky and how it lit up beautifully yet he only saw you. The fireworks reflecting off your eyes as you sat in awe at the different colors and designs it spewed. He felt so content in your presence no matter what you did together. You quickly tap his hand and point to the huge explosion filled with orange, pinks and purples. How could he not want to spend the rest of his life with you? Music played in the background as he felt you lean into him.

“Where do you see yourself in the future, Zayne.” You murmured as the fireworks calmed down. He sighs as his lips tugged upwards.

“I see myself…still being a surgeon however, I’ll have something more.” He hints making you furrow your brows. You look at him curiously wondering what he meant.

“A promotion?” You questioned. He was at the top what else could he want? Did he want to own a hospital of his own?

“Yes, you can call it that.” He teased making you narrow your eyes as they dart around. You were thinking to yourself all the possibilities he could mean. He cupped your cheeks bringing you closer to him.

“I want the next stage in my life to be an important milestone…together.” He clasps you and his hands together. Your eyes search his before they widen in shock, “You don’t know how much you mean to me. I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much.” He softly spoke placing his forehead on yours.

You felt your water line fill as you thought about it. You didn’t think he wanted a life with you. You didn’t know why but it never crossed your mind. Living in the moment was all you wanted to do with him. Not push him for change or nag him about anything like that. Being here with him right now was enough for you. Always.

“We’re getting married?” You breathe making his eyes soften as he chuckles.

“Only if you want to.” He murmured kissing your hand. You felt the tears fall as you try and stop them. He stares at you fondly, his heart beating for you.

“Of course I want to. What kind of question is that?” You cry as he chuckles before hugging you and kissing the crown of your head a few times. The fireworks explode above you sealing the moment in your hearts forever.

I love cute/romantic moments they warm my heart 🥹

[xomarzz]

cater 2 u

~2.2k words, sylus x black!fem!reader, fluff, SMUT, NOT PROOFREAD, established relationship, unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, biting, slightly aggressive sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), men who yearn are men who earnnn, black reader intended/in mind but no identifying characteristics, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, i WILL block you!!

a/n: idkk i’m a hopeless romantic & like men obessed with me and i’m delusional and need something to get through finals, that’s about it :P ♡

you stepped into the dimly lit apartment, the faint scent of your vanilla and lavender candle greeting you as the door clicked shut behind you. you let out a soft sigh, your body heavy with exhaustion. the hunter’s association banquet had gone well, you thought, too well, even, but it had drained every ounce of energy from you. all that talking, the spotlight, the constant tension of being on, no matter how used to it you’d gotten, it always left you feeling worn out.

you threw your shoes and bag on the ground of your bedroom floor when you felt a pair of hands slip around your waist. a soft kiss was pressed to the side of your neck, warm breath tickling your skin.

“you did amazing today” sylus murmured, his voice low and soothing.

you’d noticed the familiar sight of the dusk-colored mechanical crow through setup of the event, all the way through the entire ceremony. sylus having view of your entire event including your speech, even if not being present physically. he made sure he was there for you after the fact though, to take care of you in place of you having to take care of every and anything prior.

you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into him as your shoulders relaxed. "i’m so tired," you confessed, your adrenaline fading, feeling the weight of the day hit you all at once. "my head's killing me, and my feet feel like they’re gonna fall off."

a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "you were up there speaking like you were born for it. everyone was in awe of you. i bet they didn’t even notice you were running on fumes."

you rolled your eyes playfully, turning around to face him. "flattery won’t make my feet stop hurting," you shot back with a smirk.

a small chuckle vibrated through his chest. "i’ve got you. come on, let’s get you comfortable."

he scooped you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as if you weighed nothing at all. you let out a surprised squeak, sylus gently guiding you to sit on the edge of your bed. with careful hands, he slipped off the fitted, business-casual dress you’d been wearing, then moved to kneel in front of you on the mattress. you winced slightly when he touched the soles of your feet, the tenderness a reminder of how much standing and walking you’d done.

"how’s the pressure on your feet?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

you sighed, leaning back into your comforter. "sore. nothing i can’t handle though."

"well, either way, i’ll handle it for you," he said with determination, his hands going to your feet before you could protest. "sit back and relax, kitten."

his hands were gentle as he massaged the tired muscles in your feet, his fingers working in slow, methodical circles. his crimson eyes meeting yours as you pushed yourself to sit up from your bed. let out a soft hum of contentment, the soreness in your feet slowly fading with each pass of his hands. it was knowing you had someone who genuinely cared for you, who took time to make sure you felt cherished, no matter what that made the exhaustion worth it.

“thank you,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering as you relaxed into the touch. “you didn’t have to do all this��”

“i wanted to," he said, kissing the top of your head.“ you worked hard today. you deserve to be pampered. besides,” he grinned, “ i enjoy being the one to take care of you.

you smiled, your heart warm, as you closed your eyes, drifting further into relaxation, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for having him in your life.

“i’m not going anywhere,” sylus whispered, now done with the massage, moving to share space in your queen-sized bed.

sylus never hid how deeply he admired how effortlessly you carried the weight of everything and everyone around you. but there was something he cherished even more, being the one who got to care for you when the day was done, after you’d spent so much of yourself caring for others. that tenderness between you was mutual, and it was that balance, giving and being given to, that made your relationship feel so effortless, so natural.

his hand found its way to your cheek, your gaze meeting his soft one. he leaned in, his lips moving against yours with aching gentleness at first, like he was still savoring the moment he finally got to touch you this way.

the kiss deepened slowly, then all at once, more insistent, more hungry. his hand slid up your spine, pulling you closer, then finding your hips, pulling you closer, anchoring you against him. you could feel the tension under his skin, the restraint he was barely holding onto as your fingers tangled in the fabric at his back.

your breath caught as his lips trailed along your jaw, then lower, his voice a low rasp against your skin. “you just let me take care of you for tonight. you’ve earned it.”

you only shook your head, pulling him closer in answer. the warmth between you sparked into something deeper, heavier, your bodies finding each other in the quiet dim of the room.

there were no more words, just touch, you lost yourselves in the press of hands and mouths, in shared breath and soft gasps.

you made work removing his shirt from his toned back as his hands continued their exploration from your hips down to your cunt, still covered by your panties.

you whined in unspoken want for his touch. as if understanding your pleas, sylus got to work moving your panties to the side, feeling over your soaked cunt with his fingers.

he teased you, sliding his fingers over your aching cunt, applying pressure but not relieving that pressure inside just yet. meanwhile continuing lingering kisses along your jaw and down between your tits.

you bucked your hips into his hand, which he matched, grinding his still clothed cock into the side of your thigh. moving back up to aggressively kiss you once again, he finally slid one finger into your soaked cunt.

“fuck” he groaned out, muffled by the passionate kiss you both were currently enwrapped in. his finger pushed in and out of your cunt while his thumb made way to work your clit, rubbing soft but forceful circles around the bud.

you moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss which he responded to with a second finger and a smirk against your lips. you squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into you as his fingers worked your cunt.

he aggressively kissed your neck, sure to leave hickeys and his claim while you continued to grind into his hand. you could feel yourself beginning to get closer to that edge, feeling yourself tighten up around his fingers. sylus could feel this as well, beginning to coax you through your orgasm.

“make a mess on my fingers, come on, please come for me.” he cried into your neck, halting his assault from the various marks left on your neck. one of your arms made way from his neck down to his cock, stroking it through his pants as you came undone on his fingers.

“fuckkk, good girll,” sylus moaned, continuing to work you through your orgasm, still softly stroking your clit. he wasted no time afterwards, making work to finally remove your panties and bra, pulling you down to the edge of the bed where his crimson eyes stared back into yours as his tongue began to lick you clean of the orgasm he’d given you.

“ah~! sy please! wait!” you protested to no avail as he sucked your now sensitive clit, then returning to draw stripes and slurp your messy cunt.

his cock was achingly hard in his pants, but he’d have his turn in a moment. he enjoyed the view of you helpless coming undone for him, to know you were his was worth enduring the ache of his cock at the moment. he said he’d take care of you and was determined to do so, meaning you were first.

you sat on your elbows, grabbing his head with both hands, as his captivating pussydrunk eyes never left yours. he looked damn good, and as much as you would love to have him stay there all night, you needed him more than this.

a pout formed on your face, eyes never leaving his, “please fuck me sy, need you so bad” you whined, tracing ome of your hands along his jaw as he continued to devour your cunt. his eyes rolled as he moaned into you. as much as he wanted you to cum in his mouth, hearing you beg was the last his aching cock could take.

he removed his mouth from your cunt, slighly pushing you back to have your back on the bed, while he finally freed his thick and veiny cock. he softly made way to kiss your forehead, then moved to your lips, beginning a slow make out. his cock sat on your cunt brushing against your clit, leaking precum. you bucked up into it, your messy cunt covering it in a mix of your cum and sylus’ saliva.

only breaking the kiss a little, sylus guided his hand down, pushing the leaking head into your entrance. you gasped, him waiting a few seconds before fitting the rest into you slowly. despite the many times you both had sex, it was always a slight adjustment to his size every time.

his pace started off slow once you were comfortable, his face full of admiration for you as he searched your face for confirmation that you were okay. after a whine and slow nod from you, he slowly worked his way into a quicker pace, going back to making out with you while stretching you out.

“faster sy, please” you moaned, that moan getting choked out as sylus’ pace became more agressive. at this pace he hit your spot repeatedly, brushing your second orgasm over you as you came hard all over his cock. you and sylus both moaned into each other, your mouth agape as sylus didn’t stop or let up his pace “do it again for me, cum for me again” he rasped, staring into you. one of his hands found its way around your neck, in a gentle squeeze just enough to restrict your air a little. your eyes widened, and cunt squeezed around him in response.

the only sounds filling the room at this point were the squelching of your cunt, which was turning you on even more. you weren’t the only one though, sylus increasing his pace to get another orgasm out of you. “listen to that nasty cunt” he mocked condescendingly “i need her to give me another one” he pleaded, hand still around your throat accompanied by the brutal pace of his hips. your eyes rolled back again, attempting to close your legs around sylus as you came for the third time, tears filing your cock drunk eyes.

slyus removed his hand from your throat, slowing his pace, but still not stopping after the third time. a teasing smirk spread across his face, as he lightly chucked at the tears blurring your eyes and your cock drunk expression.

“wait-“ you cried pushing his hips away from you, now overstimulated. “nope no waiting, i need another one” he teased, with slow strokes. “so meann” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck with your teared eyes.

“i told you i’d take care of you kitten, you dont have to think about anything, just give me one more.” you could hear his resolve dropping in his speech, meaning he was also reaching a limit himself.

“i cant-“

“yes you can” he encouraged, more aggressively this time.

between his tone, your oversensitivity, and euphoria from your previous orgasms, you came one last time, this time squirting, most drenching sylus’ chest, and the sheets below you.

“your turn” you giggled, watching as sylus lost hus last bit of resolve, leaning down to embrace you as his orgasm washed over him. while pulling out of you to cover your chest in his cum, his teeth left and indent within your shoulder. his last claim that you were his through and through. you kissed all over his face as you both came down from your high.

sylus returned from your bathroom with a warm towel, his touch tender as he cleaned you up. slipping back beneath the sheets, he pulled you into his embrace, finally allowing sleep to take you, knowing that no matter what, you had each other to hold, to heal, and to care for whenever the world demanded too much.

~gg ♡

[xomarzz]

it’s canon now 😭plushies will be KO’d by Xavier 😩😭

[xomarzz]

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒑 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

credits to me. feel free to use and save. of course credit would be appreciated but it is not required. I’m just making these for fun <3 dividers I’ve made to fics and things that are sitting in my drafts and decided to share.

[xomarzz]

this update size thing almost made me stop playing lads this time, it’s ridiculous

[xomarzz]

i know this has definitely been said multiple times by other people, though i also need to complain about it..but while i really appreciate and love the banners i wish infold would give us a break and update the main story!! i’m just getting a little bored with logging in gaining some rewards MAYBE doing something regarding the banners and then logging out until the next day, or whenever. especially being mostly f2p, i get bored with grinding for dias, i’ve given up on religiously doing it unless i really want a card.. especially because i kind of cant stand abyssal chaos. the main story is actually what kept me invested in the game when i first started (aside from sylus :P) so it’s really disappointing to see it get updated once every blue moon. even if we don’t get main story updates, i’d just love a break from banners in general🥀

[xomarzz]

FLOWER CROWN SYLUS FLOWER CROWN SYLUS FLOWER CROWN SYLUS FLOWER CROWN SYLUS

[xomarzz]

“FREAK LIKE ME, YOU WANT A GOOD GIRL THAT DOES BAD THINGS.”

FEATURING: 夏以昼 CALEB & 黎深 ZAYNE

content warnings: nsfw, 18+ only (mdni), nerd!caleb and nerd!zayne (separate), possessive, overstimulation, spanking, oral (f&m receiving) , penetrative sex, brat-taming, fingering, edging, begging, mentions of ‘sensory deprivation’ and inappropriate use of evol.

author’s note: soo um i love caleb n zayne 😕😕 this is just me fantasising about them with short hcs of them as hot nerds in university.. lmk if u guys want more for them! (separate or together 😳)

word count: 1.8k…

hope you enjoy loves! kaori. 💐

夏以昼 ᯓ★ CALEB

nerd!caleb, who yaps about his nerdy interests to you 24/7, never SHUTTING up. it could be when you’re laying in bed at night, the room pitched black and you’re more than ready to drift to sleep and engulfed in caleb’s warm embrace; always insisting to be the the big spoon. he would run his large calloused hands over your body and shove his face in your neck before he starts whispering about derivatives in mathematics to irritate you. if only you weren’t so comfortable and sleepy that you’d slapped his head away and fuss about him telling you unnecessary information that you didn’t need for your course.

nerd!caleb, who insists that the both of you MUST study together or he’ll be sad without you :((( you’re his comfort person and emotional support. he needs you around him at all times! unfortunately whenever you both try to study together he gets distracted and ends up telling you ‘did you know?’ fun facts about physics that makes you sigh the moment he starts.

nerd!caleb who’s a guy that 100% has EVERYTHING written down about you in his phone and when it gets mentioned months after you told him, you’d be confused on why he knows because you’ve forgotten that you’ve told him!

nerd!caleb who’s the type of guy to sneak up on you when you at home or appear unexpectedly on campus behind you just to quickly spin you around by the waist to kiss you. and it’s so sudden!! you always need to grasp on his sweater to ground yourself from not falling over.

nerd!caleb who lets you be independent to deal with your own problems but alwyas watches from a distance, ready to step in the moment he sees that you need him.

nerd!caleb who flexes his muscles in your face just because he knows how flustered you get and how he sees your eyes dart over his body before you turn away with a flushed face. it makes his lips curl into a boyish grin. so cute.

nerd!caleb who would buy jewelry with his initials or with some cute space trinkets just because he thinks you’d look pretty (totally not because he wants others to know you’re his.)

nerd!caleb who showers you with compliments everyday and takes care of you. making sure you eat and drink enough and that you KNOW that he is utterly helplessly in love with you and only you.

nerd!caleb who’s stupidly smart, always topping all his classes and is the professors assistant that also helps to grade students work. how ironic that his girlfriend is barely passing the course. “no pipsqueak, i can’t raise your gradeee. it’s against the rules,” he pouts. “buuuut, if you’re willing to do me a special favour…maybe i won’t mind.” he smiles cheekily. you scoff at his words.

nerd!caleb who overworks himself during finals and takes it out on you :(( he would be the MEANEST. he’d call you over for a study session but it’ll always end up with him bending you over the table to fuck you stupid until you both turn into a babbling overstimulated mess. he just can’t control himself either!

nerd!caleb who would reward you when you do well on your exams by making you cum over and over again on his tongue that it has you trying your very hardest to squirm away or push his head away. it never works though. he would simply just grab your wrists in one large hand and use the other to hold you down while he swipes his tongue over your clit even faster making you let out a pathetic sob.

nerd!caleb who would fuck you in missionary so that he could analyse every expression and twitch on your face, memorising every single movement with his piercing eyes as if he was trying to solve a difficult quantum mechanical equation. dont even try to turn your face away when you’re embarrassed!! he would simply just wrap his hand around your neck and force you to look at him. no, he doesn’t care if your face is all flushed red or that you can’t take it. he needs to study the way you look when you feel good.

nerd!caleb who starts spewing praises over and over when he’s about to orgasm. he will lean down and kiss you all over your neck and face as he thrusts harder and faster into you, ready to spill his hot, thick cum deep into your cunt. “n-ngh! what a good- ah! girl you are” “yes yes yes princess—hnngh! cum with me please i need you.”

nerd!caleb who needs your scratch marks all over his back and practically wears it like cool battle scars but it only makes you embarrassed every time you see the red lines over his muscular biceps and back 😵‍💫😵‍💫

黎深 ꩜ .ᐟ ZAYNE

nerd!zayne who is a little (just a little 🤏 ) smug and egotistical about his academic intelligence because he truly is prodigious. everyone knows him for his achievements and also for having an insanely LETHALL facecard.

nerd!zayne who has fangirls who take the same course as him and try to come up to him to ask for help with their work. he doesn’t even bat an eye in their direction before blatantly ignoring them before walking off to find his girl!!

nerd!zayne who surprisingly also spends a good portion of his time in the campus gym. as a future cardiologist, he has to stay fit right? unfortunately, that also means forcing YOU to work out with him. “noo zayne, leave me alone and do your nerdy stuff by yourself” oh, he knows you hate it but he would throw you over his shoulder playfully and force you to come anyway. however, that’s just because he wants to watch you all doe eyed, borderline drooling by the weight he’s manhandling so easily around the gym. (he just wants you to watch him but would never admit it)

nerd!zayne who would read every night before bed, having you curled up into his side. one hand on the book as the other holds you close to him as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

nerd!zayne who would always help you with your homework if you were overwhelmed. no, it doesn’t matter if you weren’t in a medical course or not, he would always somehow know the answers or how to help you with your assignments. he’s practically your personal chat gpt..

nerd!zayne who would never admit that he’s jealous when he sees you acting friendly with other guys. and it’s obvious by the way he glares at them wordlessly that he IS possessive over his girl.

nerd!zayne who always has his arm around you in public but would never act overly PDA simply because he knows he can’t control himself.

nerd!zayne who always backs you up in public even if he knows you were wont because he would NEVER talk down on his girl or scold you in front of others but oh so help him god if you were to act bratty or very unreasonable, let’s just say it makes him tick. the moment he’s got you alone, say goodbye to sitting comfortably for the next few days. he would bend you over his lap and spank you until you were crying with your arousal dripping down your thighs onto his lap. he would simply ‘tch’ before fucking his fingers into your cunt and rip them away before you cum and leave you like that as a punishment. my man is 100% a brat tamer.

nerd!zayne who obviously knows more about your body more than you. yes he may be training to be a cardiologist but do you really think he didn’t learn about gynaecology? oh and he would not hesitate to use that against you in bed to turn you dumb and pliant for him. his fingers just know exactly where to press and prod, massaging those yummy spots inside your warm walls that leave you gasping and thighs trembling. you can’t help but try to run away from the stimulation :(( “aww too much hon? it’s okay you can take it. you will.”

nerd!zayne who makes you hold eye contact with him while in the MEANESTT MATING PRESS…and if you look away, he would give you a firm spank on your clit that makes it even harder for your eyes not to roll to the back of your head as you cry out. he would also definitely have you on the edge and begging for it with tears in your eyes from his teasing. it just turns him on so bad that it makes him feral for you.

nerd!zayne who is the type of guy to 100% leave his glasses on as he fucks you dumb knowing that you gets so turned on by him in his framed glasses. the way they fog up as he eats you out or when fucking you and he lets out breathier pants. he would also leave his watch on while fingering you just to see your sticky juices drip down onto his forearm and turn the glass glossier. “nuh uh baby, don’t hold back. you better cum all over my fingers or you won’t get my cock.”

nerd!zayne who would mark you up in places that only he can see and no one else. leaving love bites all over your inner thighs and chest. he’s a proud and firm believer that whatever happens between the both of you stays between you two. unless of course, you manage to piss him off and there might be a little hickey peeping out from the collar of your shirt.

nerd!zayne who would literally get the most enjoyment over you trying to dominate him. unfortunately, it always end up with you getting all whiny and whimpering about how you’re tired that of course he’ll help his princess out by fucking her dumb :( hes more than happy to help!!

nerd!zayne who would definitely have a sensory deprivation kink. he would be into blindfolding you and using his evol on you as a type of ‘temperature play’ knowing that you’re even more sensitive just to make you cum even harder by his cool touch. it brings him joy to hear your little sniffles and the slight jerks of your body.

BONUS!! something i think both of them would go insane over: 🤫

he would die to have you under his desk giving him the best head of his life whilst he tries to focus on completing his assignments but it’s just so hard when he can feel your soft sloppy tongue all over the tip of his needy cockhead while your hands pump up and down his dick.

“n-nngh!— hah! stop, angel-hnn! i can’t focus” he’d stutter with his eyes going nearly crosseyed when he looked down at the lewd state of his hot girlfriend sucking the life out of his dick while doing an assignment so important - worth 40% of his final grade!

eventually he would get tired of your teasing and grab you by the hair, dragging you up and away from his cock before pulling down your panties and stuffing you full that your tummy bulges with the outline of him side you. oh, he would fuck you so hard that you forget your own name and what you were even doing in the first place!

“always gotta be such a—ngh- haah! fucking brat don’t cha’ sweetheart?”

[xomarzz]

(temporary) birthday blues — ft. sylus

tara doesn’t mean any harm when she tries to set you up on a blind date—she doesn’t know it’s sylus’s birthday, or that he’s yours. but the thought of you sitting across from someone you’re actually allowed to be seen with hits him harder than he wants to admit

❤︎ word count: 6.6k words — at least it’s an even number

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; takes place after sylus bday card but you don’t need it to understand ; reader is a hunter and is implied to have his myth’s lore ; jealous and slightly insecure sylus ; hurt/comfort ; praise (lots actually. almost corny amounts) ; reader wears lingerie ; he picks reader up ; cunnilingus ; hand jobs ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; painfully soft sex ; not proof read

❤︎ commentary: happy birthday to my angel boy ever. but more importantly — I MADE IT IN TIME LETS GOOOOO

You and Sylus return home from his birthday date just a couple of hours after the sun sets. 

By Sylus-standards, the day has hardly begun—he still has roughly a little under half the day left before it’s his (ridiculously late) bedtime. By your standards, since it’s your boyfriend’s birthday, you have to spend his entire day with him, even if his clock works a little differently than yours. 

Will you be staying up until six in the morning? Yes. But you planned accordingly. You took an entire extra day off just to sleep in with him tomorrow and spend as much time together as possible. It’s your first birthday with Sylus. You’re the only one who knows it’s his birthday at all. Work is important, sure, but sometimes you have to reevaluate your priorities a little.

Boyfriends are a pretty important priority—well, only if they’re Sylus. He’s the only boyfriend that matters. The rest of the boyfriends in the world are not quite so impressive, so they don’t deserve the same privileges as your uniquely, one-of-a-kind special one.  

“Did you have a good day today?” you ask softly, curling your arms around his neck as soon as you both enter his bedroom. (Your bedroom—you practically share it like it’s co-owned. The only thing that fully stops you from moving in with Sylus is that it would make your work commute a very tiresome one. Other than that, you’re here every chance you get.)

He hums, hands planting themselves on your hips and giving them a gentle squeeze, pulling you close and flush against his chest as he pecks the corner of your mouth. “I did,” he murmurs, “although I don’t think having a bad day is possible with you—unless you’re being moody. That’s another story.”

“I would get moody with you just for saying that, but I am a firm believer in being nice to birthday boys. Wait until I get my hands on you once today is over.”

“Oh?” he grins, chuckling as he kisses along your jaw, “I should prepare myself for the claws of a feisty little kitten, then?”

“You should prepare yourself for some groveling to get on my good side again,” you huff. “And maybe some expensive gifts.”

He laughs—not that low, deep, rumbling sound that sounds like light amusement. It’s that loud, booming laugh that sounds like joy and warmth and falling in love over and over again every day. Feeling it start to bubble and fizz as the sun rises, and watching it overflow from the top by the time the moon is out. You grin at the sound, pulling him into a kiss where you giggle in between the presses of your mouth to his, and he laughs because your joy is too infectious not to fall victim to. 

“I have to shower,” you whisper between his hungry bites on your lips. He hums in protest.

“Is that really a necessity right now?”

“Yes, I rolled in the grass with you.”

“Fine, we can—”

“No, no,” you push his mouth away with a palm, feeling his lips practically pout against your skin as you do, “we are not going in there together. That will take way too long because you never behave, and I still have plans we have to get through.”

“What sort of plans,” he grumbles, “surely they can’t be that different from what the shower would bring.”

“You are shameless, Sylus,” you scold, slapping his shoulder with hardly any bite at all, “you don’t get to know until it’s time. Now be good while you wait—and charge my phone while you’re at it. It’s about to die.”

With that, you leave him sulking alone in his room, watching your figure as it retreats into the bathroom without him. Grumbling to himself, he grabs your phone to charge it like you asked—he knows better than to make you hiss at him when he wants things. (He wants a lot of things tonight. Quite a lot of things that require your good side, and he intends to milk this nice, spoiled treatment out of you with that innocent birthday boy charm, so staying in your good graces is his wisest option at the moment.)

He grabs your phone and plugs it in…and then he wishes he didn’t. As soon as he does, and the screen lights up, he thinks his birthday is ruined for the next decade with how bitter a taste the messages on your screen leave in his mouth. 

Tara💗: don’t be mad. i set u up on a blind date

Tara💗: well not exactly a blind date. a double date with me and that guy i met when we were out the other day. he has a friend

Tara💗: u can’t say no he’s cute and he has a cat. you’ll like him i promise

It’s official. Sylus does not like this Tara girl anymore. 

He’s met her briefly before, and vaguely, he’s introduced himself, too. She doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend because Sylus is at the top of your job’s wanted list. Telling a girl who is, arguably at this point, your closest friend that you have a boyfriend while having to keep that boyfriend hidden to a certain degree is not a plausible set of wishes. Tara will naturally want to know more. She’ll ask to see pictures of your dates, perhaps. She’ll invite him for drinks, and activities, and parties, and after-work events because she’s the kind of person who cares about the people her friends care about. And Sylus? Well…again, he’s at the top of your job’s wanted list. You can’t let Tara, who is your coworker first and foremost, get to know your boyfriend’s voice and face too closely unless you’re asking—practically pleading—for trouble. 

So she doesn’t know you have a boyfriend. 

It’s a lie that is for the betterment of everything all around. Instead, she meets him once fleetingly, and she thinks he’s your friend who sells fruit and makes a pretty penny off his business that’s taken off. That’s about all she knows. 

At first glimpse, she seemed like a nice girl. A friend whom Sylus was grateful you had and could count on if things got heavy in your line of work. She seemed kind. Dependable. Trustworthy. Maybe not the strongest physically, but certainly a good friend to ease his mind that you have good people in your circle. (Although, he does hate your stupid partner—but at least that loathsome sleepy bastard who rots in bed for half the day is strong. If worst comes to worst, Sylus can at least bet that the boy would sooner let his own head get ripped off than let anything happen to yours. He’s at least grateful for that.)

But he hates this Tara girl deeply now, and hatred for someone he hardly knows is not a common feeling for Sylus. That’s irrational, and he’s hardly irrational. In fact, it’s because he is so rational that he’s so level-headed when he deals with threats. He hardly hates his “enemies.” Most of the people who make an enemy out of him amuse him—they don’t particularly pose a threat to him, and he has quite a bit of fun making an example out of them for the next bothersome bunch that wants to try something with him. Being enemies with Sylus is usually a one-sided thing—he may be someone else’s enemy, but they’ll always just be a fool to him. A regular sorry little idiot who got a bit too cocky and decided to try their luck against him.

He barely has enemies. The few people he does hate are people who deserve it. Terrible, evil, sinister people who go beyond an ethical code that even Sylus will not cross. 

He barely has enemies. He’s a businessman. A leader. A good fighter. A good boyfriend, too, if he gives himself a little bit of extra (but honest) credit. All of which require a good head on his shoulders, a calm demeanor, and a very, very adequate sense of rationality. Sylus is rarely ever irrationally emotional—unless it has to do with you, of course. And this time, it does. 

So he hates this Tara girl. He hates her deeply. She’s landed herself on his enemy list. 

Just as he sets your phone down, you step out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel as your skin glistens from the fancy little lotions and body care items he has lying around in his bathroom that you help yourself to. Any other day, he’d tease you about it. About using him for his fancy, lavish lifestyle. About that skimpy little towel that you choose to step out in when half of his loungewear is in that bathroom for you to also help yourself to. About how cute you look when you walk out looking like a small, wet kitten. 

But none of those things happen—red flag number one. Red flag number two is that when you go to poke at his side and give it a pinch, he doesn’t stop you right away before you can.

Something’s on his mind. You know that as soon as you see him.

“Hey,” you cup his cheeks, “miss me that bad for fifteen minutes? You look like you’ve aged ten years instead of one with that expression.”

“Very funny, sweetie,” he hums, clearly still distracted, “I thought you made it a point to be nice to the birthday boy.”

“I am being nice to the birthday boy,” you say to him, cheekily leaning up and kissing his jaw, “this is a very nice view to give to a birthday boy.”

He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something is wrong—something so, so painfully obvious happened while you were in that fifteen-minute shower. As far as showers go, it might not be the shortest amount of time, but it’s certainly not a long one. What could have possibly happened in fifteen whole minutes to make his eyes clouded with that look? A look that looks so stormy and upset and irritated. 

Something’s on his mind. You know it by simply looking at him. 

“Hey,” you pull him closer by the hands on his face, pressing his forehead to yours, “Sylus, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetie,” he breathes, hands squeezing your hips as he pulls you close. “Just distracted by what a pretty little kitten I have.”

And then he kisses you. It’s…a kiss unlike any you’ve ever had with him. Not bad, of course, but different. Sylus is a confident guy. A terribly cocky, self-assured, and secure guy. He knows he’s handsome by most people’s standards (and definitely by yours), he knows he’s smart and intelligent, he knows he’s strong and capable, and he knows he’s stable in his lifestyle. He’s a confident guy, and you’ve always known him to be.

But he’s kissing you pretty desperately. Not the kind of desperation when he’s just plain needy, or when he’s been worried about you, and rescues you just in time, or when you’ve been away for too long. 

No.

This kind of desperation feels like he has something to prove. Like he needs to kiss you so well, you never want to kiss anything else. It’s a sort of desperation that almost feels…scared. 

“You’re not yourself,” you breathe in between presses of his mouth, gasping when he leans down to nip at your collarbone. “Hey—”

“You’re overthinking it,” he mumbles, “just let me have you to myself, sweetheart—”

“Sylus,” you say firmly. He pauses. “No.”

He lets go as soon as you say the word, letting his hands drop while you gently take them off your hips. He looks unhappy about it—maybe even a little rejected, but he doesn’t protest. He never does. Not if it’s something you say. Some boundary you set. Some line you draw.

“What happened?” you ask gently, hands returning to his cheeks and gently rubbing the skin tenderly with your thumb, “this is supposed to be your day. I…I didn’t mean to upset you if I did. I’m sorry. I just…I just wanted it to be special—”

“It is,” he interrupts, planting his hands on top of yours and keeping them in place, “it’s been great. It always is with you—I promise.”

“Then what changed?” you frown, “and don’t say it’s nothing. Don’t give me that unbothered, nonchalant attitude and pretend to shrug it off—I know you. I know you better than anyone else does, so don’t even think about lying to me like I won’t see right through it.”

He’s silent. For a second, you think he’s not going to say a word. That he’s not going to open up and share and trust you like you wish he would when things are clearly sitting heavily on his mind. Sometimes he gets a look—one that feels like he’s lived a life you don’t even know about. Like it haunts him and curses him and weighs down on his chest. He never shares. Not about his burdens—not with you. You don’t think it’s because he doesn’t trust you, but because he thinks he shouldn’t have to. That he shouldn’t trouble you with things about him because he lives for you.

You wish he didn’t do that. You wish he’d change that habit. You wish he’d live for himself and let you live for him, too. 

But then, he quietly asks, “Do you ever wish you could tell your friends about…us?”

“Huh?” you frown.

“We go back and forth between the outskirts of Linkon and the N-109 zone, and we don’t ever get to do things that involve the people you care about—doesn’t that bother you?”

“...No?” you say in confusion, “does it…does it bother you?”

“Of course not,” he says instantly. He throws on that smug, carefree face again, even though you see right through it. Some people just don’t like putting their defenses down when they’re cornered, no matter how safe they are. Sylus is one of them. “Now, why would I want to share my little kitten? Not everyone can handle her sharp claws.”

“Sy,” you let out a breath, “you know I can see right through you. Just talk to me—telling me how you feel is something you’re usually good at. It’s what I like most about you…why’s it so different this time?”

Telling you how he feels about you is easy. It comes naturally like breathing. It’s as simple as using his evol to move something through the air, manipulating energy to surround you and show you the depths of his feelings. Telling you he loves you and cares for you is a vulnerability that he takes as a privilege. Telling you that the thought of you being with someone more practical, more fitting than him…it’s not as easy. It’s too vulnerable in a way that makes him pathetic, not devoted. You chose him, after all, didn’t you? Isn’t it questioning your own devotion and your own loyalty to him to tell you: I hate the idea of someone deserving you more than I?

That’s what he’d be doing, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t it be to question you, to doubt you and your love and your choice, all on the same day that you went out of your way to make him feel special? 

Telling you this is not so simple. Not to him. Not when you love him, and he knows it, and yet, for some reason, he can’t help but feel like you’re making a mistake by loving him. Him. The top wanted criminal on your organization’s list. Most targeted person in the N-109 zone with the most “enemies” after his back. A guy that, against every principle that tells you: no, you choose to be with. 

He should just be grateful that you say yes. And he is. But also, he can’t help but wonder if you’d be happier if you didn’t.

“Don’t you trust me?” you whisper.

He breathes—slow, shaky. “I do,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “I trust you the most. You know that.”

“Then tell me. Please? I just…I worry about you.”

You shouldn’t. But you also should. You were always meant to, right?—even if it wasn’t always supposed to be that way. You did. Once upon a time, you only worried about him. And you do. And you will. And he wants it. Needs it. Craves it. Craves you and your attention and your care and your concern. He should be the one you’re concerned about—but maybe concern is all he ever brings over.

It’s silent for a moment longer before you gently kiss the tip of his nose and say sweetly, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I love you, so if you ever want to share something, I will always—”

“Your friend Tara seems to be tired of your stagnant love life, sweetheart,” he interrupts. He doesn’t really mean to blurt it out like that—Sylus is usually rational about what he says and when he says it. But…well, the idea of you sitting across from some normal guy with a normal life alongside your normal friend on a normal date has him acting very abnormal. “She’s…well, you go ahead and see for yourself.”

Your phone is pressed to your hands. You look at him in confusion, but his eyes all but beg for you to just look at the screen and end his pure misery by not making him say the words out loud. So you look. The first things you see are her messages on your screen, sitting there as unopened notifications. 

Oh, you think as you read them. Oh. 

“Oh, Sy,” you say softly, setting your phone down. “You know I’d turn that date down in a heartbeat for you—”

“It’s not about that,” he grumbles, swallowing thickly. This is a type of vulnerability he hates. The type of vulnerability he doesn’t ever have to feel. The type of vulnerability where he feels less than—not deeply devoted and open, but just…not enough, despite his devotion. He isn’t used to ever being not enough. At least not when it’s with you. 

“Then what’s it about?”

“Your friend is a meddler.”

“She doesn’t know about us,” you defend Tara gently, “you know she’d never if she did.”

“Well, sweetie,” he drawls with a tight, bitter smile, “I suppose she never will, so I might have to get used to worrying that you’ll need to save a few dresses for some other blind dates here and there, don’t I?”

“I’d never go on a date with someone else,” you reason, “you know that, right?”

“How long are you going to pretend to be single?” he points out blandly. 

“Forever,” you say confidently. He wavers, eyeing you in weariness. You cup his cheeks and squeeze them together as you murmur, “I would pretend to be single for the rest of my life for you if that’s what it takes. As long as you’re mine, as long as you stay mine, I don’t care what I have to tell everyone else.”

“That’s not very practical,” he grunts.

“I don’t think we’re a very practical couple, but I don’t think that’s ever been bad,” you chuckle, “I think we’re good. Really good. As good as things ever get.”

“But not great?” he teases, cracking a small, taunting little smile. You know him well enough to soothe him with another kiss to his nose. 

“Perfect,” you hum, fingers toying with the small hairs at the nape of his neck, touching him so casually, so absent-mindedly, it’s almost like it’s ingrained in your nature. In your DNA. In your biology to be his and to want him. “You’re perfect. To me. For me. With me. You’re perfect and I love you. I love us. We are perfect, and it doesn’t matter if other people see that or know about it. As long as you know, then I’m good.”

“I don’t like your friend Tara,” he breathes, burying his head into your neck, “she seems like trouble.”

“She’s harmless, you big baby,” you tease. Because that’s what he needs—to be teased into knowing he’s not so fragile. Too much of it makes him turn around and retreat, like an animal that’s shown its belly for too long and is at risk of its fragile, precious organs being torn apart from limb to limb. 

You give him a teasing little nibble on his nose, and he cracks a small smile that pulls him out of that weird space in his head. Because that’s you and that’s him. That teasing banter that folds love and devotion in between every taunting remark and every smart little retort. Every second you spend getting under the other’s skin is spent making home there—nestling under that layer of each other, and crawling into the parts that no one else has ever seen. No one else has ever been in. No one else has ever been allowed in. 

“Oh?” he murmurs, “you’d side with your friend over your boyfriend on his birthday? Your priorities are intriguing, sweetheart.”

You’d say something equally as playful back, but instead, you say: “I love you.” You remind him with an awed smile as you take him in. Him and his brute strength and his carefully built empire and untouchable self. Him and his gentleness and all that love he holds in his large hands that no one can take away before he slips it into yours. You remind him. You don’t want him to ever forget.

“I love you, too,” he chuckles, closing his eyes as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses to his jaw. Your hands grab his own from your waist, pulling them up to the top of your chest where the towel wraps around you. 

“You have one more present for tonight, you know—if you’re up for opening it.”

“Is that right?” he grins, “I’d never turn something down from my sweet little kitten. I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

“You’ll like this one,” you beam, “I picked it out just for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” he eyes the small, peeking bit of red lace as his hands slowly unwrap the towel, pupils dilating as he slowly exposes you from its coverings. “You always do know me so well, don’t you?”

A red lace set that hugs your curves perfectly. The stockings are just tight enough around the middle of your thigh that the skin bulges just a bit at the top, spilling over it with pillowy flesh that he wants to spend hours digging his fingers into as he holds you close. Here. With him, right where you belong. Where, whether anyone knows it or not, you are happiest and safest and tailor-made to belong. You always belonged with him—alongside him, where you can be his and he can be yours, and the world would have to stop spinning on its axis before he was convinced that it was wrong. 

“Well,” you pout playfully, “you’re not saying anything—do you like it? There’s still a return period, I think I could make an exchange if—”

“Don’t always be such a tease, sweetheart,” he breathes, leaning down to pull you into a slow, meticulous kiss. Unlike that last one, this one is desperate to know you exist. To be slow and take his sweet time and know that you’re here and you exist in the same timeline as him, and you’re not going anywhere. To rush it would be to waste the seconds he was given to savor. 

Sylus is a man who savors things he likes. Good wine. Good music. Good company—he savors every little part of you like it’s a luxury he shouldn’t take for granted. 

“Happy birthday, my birthday boy,” you whisper, “I’m all yours tonight. Every night. All yours, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah,” he groans, nipping at your collarbone. “All mine—aren’t I just lucky?”

Suddenly, you’re picked up with one strong, muscled arm, the bicep curling around your thighs and hoisting you up faster than you can process as the world is suddenly lower than you remember it. Two seconds later, and your world shifts some more as you’re suddenly eye to eye with the ceiling, and there are soft, satin sheets under your back with a soft mattress to curve around your spine. 

Sylus is hovering over you, hungry and excited, and his eyes lit up like a kid ready to blow out candles. You giggle, holding his face and bringing him close, pressing a kiss to his nose, to both of his cheeks, to the corners of his mouth before the center of his lips, to his forehead until he’s laughing that sweet, happy little laugh that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I love you,” you confess, so quietly, it’s like you don’t want anyone but him to know because it’s only for him. Only for him to hear those words because no one else should know what your love feels like, what it sounds like. “Love you so much, Sy. My perfect boy.”

“If I told you my birthday was actually tomorrow, would you be this sweet to me all over again?” he grins in amusement. You huff, and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss the purse of your lips before he mumbles against them, “I love you, too. No one will love you as pure as I do, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “I know.”

That’s all it takes for him to finally snap into Sylus. Your Sylus. Cocky, self-assured, confident Sylus. Sylus, who takes what he wants because he knows nothing can stop him from having it. He wants you—and you’ll never tell him no. 

He’s moved to bury himself between your legs in a split second, so that you hardly have time to process that he’s moved in the first place at all. By the time you attempt to argue that it’s his birthday, and it’s about him, he’s already huffed something about getting the final say as the birthday boy, and this is what he wants. 

And…well, who are you to deny him? 

“Fuck, sweetie,” he groans, pressing his nose against your clit through the fabric. He plants a gentle kiss on the delicate bundle of nerves, smiling when you twitch and whimper at the sensitivity. “All this for me? I’m a spoiled man, aren’t I?”

“S-Sylus—”

“You smell good,” he breathes, inhaling the sweet, rich scent of you, “bet you taste even better.”

With that, he gently peels the lace panties down your legs, little by little, inch by inch, discarding them from you before carefully tossing them to the ground as your bare cunt is exposed to him. He runs a large hand up and down your thigh, squeezing the plush skin just where it collects at the top of the stockings. 

“Mine,” he breathes, “just for me, huh?”

“Only for you,” you pant, impatiently bucking up into the air and waiting for his touch.

He chuckles, but doesn’t have the heart to tease anymore. With a quick motion, he’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, hands cupping your thighs and holding them in place as he buries himself into your core. You’re dripping—the sweet slick pooling and coating your inner legs that he licks off before licking a stripe between your folds. 

“Fuck, Sy,” you gasp, “o-oh—”

He’s good with his tongue. Expert at devouring you the way you need to be devoured and going between fucking his tongue into you and lapping away, and flicking it over your clit and teasing it with his wet, warm muscle. You squeeze your legs around his head, and he groans in approval at the pressure to his skull like it’s a gift to be crushed between your thighs. (It is. To him, anything you give him when you’re pleased is a gift. He likes gifts from you—he takes them readily.)

“You’re sweet, you know,” he sings against your heat, “taste good—we should skip the cake next year. I just want this, yeah? I’ll lick you clean.”

“Stop,” you whine, “you’re being filthy!”

He laughs, the low, deep rumble of his voice vibrating against you and making you shudder. “Yeah? If you don’t like that, then why are you pulling me closer?”

He’s right—you are. Your hands are tangled into his hair and you’re pulling him impossibly closer to your pussy, grinding against his face so his nose bumps against your clit as his tongue fucks into you and explores your folds and licks them from the dripping essence of your arousal. 

“S-Sylus, ‘m…‘m s-so close—”

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he groans, “that’s exactly what I need. Can you do that for me? Let go? Let me taste you, yeah?”

Those words against your cunt, spoken through warm breath that lingers over your sensitive heat makes the steadily building pressure in the pit of your belly snap, a soft, delicious ache spreading through your walls as they quiver, through your lower belly as it flutters, through your spine and every nerve as your back arches off the mattress and you whine into your mouth and chant his name. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—’s so good, make me feel so good, Sy. Hah—”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he moans, licking the last drops of your release and pressing a kiss to your fluttering cunt before the waves of your high finally retreat. 

Your ears are ringing, and your eyes are blurry, but you can still hear the praise and make out his contented, dazed expression as he rests his cheek against your thigh and looks up at you. Your fingers card through his hair, smoothing through the soft locks as you ground yourself with the feeling of them while you catch your breath. 

“Hi,” you breathe, staring at him in awe. 

He grins, lazy, smug, and bright. “Hi. Back down to Earth with us?”

“Don’t be so arrogant,” you huff. And then, with a gentle tug to his locks, you signal him to crawl up, face to face and eye to eye with you as his body hovers over yours. 

You reach over, rubbing over his clothed erection and feeling him shiver as his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a soft, breathy moan. He’s so pretty like that—when pleasure is easy to see on his face, and he feels good, and he lets you see it. You love it when you get to see him. All of him. 

It’s a slow, intimate thing, removing his clothes. You bring his shirt up over his abs, gently pulling the fabric over his shoulders, before he helps you tug his arms through the sleeves and expose that chiseled, slightly tanned skin (despite never being in the sun) to you. He’s pretty. Gorgeous. You hum in appreciation as your hands run along the planes of his muscles, raking your nails along his abs and rubbing up and down his sides while he breathes heavily over you. It’s slow—there’s no rush despite the lingering, building ache between both of your legs. You want to admire him, and he wants to let you. 

You want to feel him, and he wants to bask in the feeling of being wanted.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur, “happy birthday. I’m glad it’s me, you know? That gets to say that. And be here.”

“It was never going to be anyone else,” he pants, groaning as your hand finds the tent in his pants and gives a soft squeeze.

Unbuckling his belt and taking his pants and boxers off is less of a slower ordeal than his shirt—he’s a little more quick to get rid of them and let his hard, leaking cock finally be free of its confinements. He hisses when the cool air hits the warmth of his length, but you’re quick to bring the warmth right back as your hand wraps around him, smearing his pre cum along the tip and shaft, stroking slowly as he shudders over you and moans. 

“Feel good?” you kiss his nose. 

“Mmh,” he nods, swallowing thickly as you run your thumb through the slit and feel him twitch in your hand. “Y-yeah. Good.”

“Good,” you smile, “it’s about you tonight. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts in time with a squeeze of your fist around him. 

He lets you stroke him like that for a bit, just the feeling of you touching him. Just the feeling of you surrounding him and undoing him slowly, gradually, just the way you know he likes. You know him so well, and he likes being reminded. Know what makes it feel good for him and what doesn’t—know that he likes when you speed up and focus around the tip for a bit before switching to long, languid strokes along the entirety of his length before giving his base a small squeeze. 

“Ngh,” he pants, shuddering over you as his face twists into a pretty little scrunch of pleasure, “I…I think that’s—that’s enough, sweetheart. I want you now—the real thing.”

He’s close when he says it. You can tell because there’s a small twitch in your hand of his heavy cock that lets you know the build-up is about to hit the crest of good and fall over the edge and into better. You stop, looking at him fondly as he shivers at the feeling of it all coming to a halt before you press a kiss between his furrowed brows to soothe him as he holds onto his composure. 

“Then take me, my birthday boy,” you coo.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asks softly, just to be sure. “Tell me now before I lose my mind.”

“I want you,” you plead, “want you so bad—give it to me. Please.”

He does. As soon as you say it, it’s like a switch is flipped and he can finally do as he pleases—so he grabs your hips and leans in to kiss you deeply, a hot, open-mouthed clash of lips and teeth and tongue as his fat tip presses against your entrance. He’s pressing into you and splitting your folds open—one inch, then two, then three, and slowly, he’s fully filling you to the brim. His tip presses delicately against that soft, spongy part of your walls that’s especially sensitive, and you mewl at the feeling while he groans at the tight fit. 

“Fuck,” he pants, “fuck, you’re so tight—take me so well. Fit me like I was made for you. I was, wasn’t I? Tell me I was—that we were made for each other.”

“We were,” you whine, nodding as your fingers dig into his shoulders and leave small crescent indents into his skin, “we were—we were made for each other. You’re mine, Sy.”

“I am,” he inhales sharply, “all yours. Always.”

The first snap of his hips is slow. He pulls out almost fully, until just barely the tip is still buried into you, before he slides back in with a firm, swift thrust of his hips. It leaves you lightheaded, wind knocked from your lungs by how good it feels to be split open by him and feel every ridge of his cock drag along your walls. You feel like you’re floating—suspended somewhere between pleasure and bliss as nothing but his body cages you into the mattress, and nothing but him invades your senses. 

Then the second snap of his hips comes in, hard and fast and rougher than the initial, and he starts to set a pace that’s not as gentle. You don’t want it to be—you want to feel him raw and hard and fast. 

“Fuck, baby,” you whimper, “like that…just like that—hah.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly, “already so fucked out? You feel that, don’t you? How good you take my cock? You’re taking it so well—that’s a good girl. My good girl.”

“S-so deep, Sy,” you sob, “more. Please, more—more!”

“More?” he raises a brow, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply as you clamp down on him at a particularly rough thrust. He groans, the sound tapering off into a shaky little exhale. “You want more, huh?”

“Yes,” you stare up at him with plump, pouty lips and wet, teary lashes. It’s enough to make him snap and lose the last bits of his composure. 

Sylus has always needed you. 

He was born into this world to find you, and he needs you before he can leave this world, too. He needs you if he wants to find something worth living for. He needs you if his heart wants to find some form of peace and rest. He’s just half of a soul tethered to this planet with longing and no purpose without you. He’s always needed you—body, mind, soul, heart, everything. When you’re gone, he hears the echoes of your laughter in his empty halls. When you’re here, he feels human only when you smile and press your skin to his. It feels like his flesh is not rotten or tainted, only when it has the privilege of touching the soft, precious silk of yours. 

Sylus has always needed you. His purpose in this world is to love you. To be loved by you. To do it right because that’s what you both deserve. He’s nothing if not an empty body with a broken soul taking up the space of him without you. 

Shakily, he whispers, “I love you. You’re all that I love—I…I love you.”

Distantly, he hears you repeat the words back to him. Soft hands are roaming his skin, gliding along the curves and dips and contours of his body, and mapping every detail to memory through your warm palms. Gentle pressure coaxes his head into your neck, letting him take sanctuary in that spot that lets him hide away and be free of whatever clings to his back like a second, haunting skin. 

“I love you,” you both whisper in breathless, heated exchanges. Because there is nothing left in your brains—no other coherent thought besides the fact that there is love and that’s it. You love and he loves, and that’s all that holds you together. 

It’s enough. This time, in this life, it’s enough. 

You come undone first—when his thumb finds your clit and rubs a few quick circles, you fall apart while whining with your head pressing back into the pillow. Your legs wrap around his hips and pull him forward, further and deeper into you as his thick, blunt tip drills into your sweet spot and pulls yet another orgasm out of you. This one is more devastating—this one makes your body still, quivering under him with a force that almost makes it hard to breathe.

The pressure of your walls spasming around him pulls him into his own release, a low, deep groan that draws out as the first few twitches of his cock start to fill you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. He pants, rolling his hips in messy, rhythmless motions as he desperately tries to work you both through the highs of your pleasure. 

“S-so perfect,” his voice comes out strained, “you…you feel so perfect—ngh.”

“S-Sylus—oh.”

He paints your walls white with more of his seed, spilled into you and fucked deep into the back of your cunt with every sharp slam of his hips until finally, with a shaky little breath, he finishes and rides out the last earth-shattering waves of his orgasm.

He slumps over you. You welcome his weight with open arms, rubbing over his back with shaky fingertips. 

“I love you,” you remind him again—because really, you can never remind him enough. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder blade, nestled close and deep where only he fits.

Next year, he’ll fit just as well—maybe even better. 

FOR ONCE I POST A BDAY FIC ACTUALLY ON THE BDAY HAHAHAHAHA I WIN

[xomarzz]

... that is literally what I wrote on his birthday card though?? 😭😭

He has me all figured out iwhtjfhg

[xomarzz]

Oh... oooh... the horns... the placement of the flower...

I am unwell

[xomarzz]

my friends sylus cake

lads fandom is so creative im in AWEEEEEE

[xomarzz]

Lil sylus study I did today:P

[xomarzz]

Happy birthday, my dark star.

May your enemies tremble at the mere whisper of your name.

May your hands never be empty—of power, of purpose, of the ones who still reach for you in the dark.

And may those who love you—truly, madly, desperately—know exactly what kind of miracle they are touching.

You are ruin made radiant. And today, we do not mourn the fire.

We celebrate the flame. ❤️

[xomarzz]

POV: You're watching Gideon's story

(+ bonus gideon doodle)

[xomarzz]

I need to see jealous Sylus. Like I’m fully aware of the fact that he’s super secure and will be super secure of his relationship with you but imagine you have to go undercover for a mission and seducing someone is part of it, and Sylus simply has to sit there and watch while your hands are all over this person, but he just can’t do anything about it, his mind telling him to just walk upto you and rip you apart from them and just take you there. 🫶