youโre really hurt and insecure when out of nowhere youโre the only one whoโs not getting called on for private sessions. you used to be one of the most popular ones, so why is that huge, grimy guy with biceps nearly the size of melons and tattoos the only one paying for your sessions? surely he hasnโt paid your boss to steer customers away from you. he definitely didnโt threaten to bash the head in of anyone who tried to have a go at youโฆright? right?
but you canโt really complain. youโre getting tipped a fortune for each session with a man who only wants to pleasure you and pillowtalk, saying things about how youโre the best thing thatโs ever happened to him and how he wants you only, and all you have to do is enjoy it and reply with whatever he wants to hear.
but he doesnโt want anything, not really. he undresses you slow, gives you long, sloppy kisses while he thrusts into you. you donโt do anything but take it, let him fold you around and leave lovebites on you. then he pulls you into his chest afterward and murmurs things into your hair while having a round of cuddle fucking.
itโs not like anything youโve had before with clients, or even in real life. thereโs nothing selfish about him. he doesnโt slam himself into you like a beast, or grab your head and force your mouth on his cock greedily, trying to get his moneyโs worth. he makes love to you like youโre married. he always kisses you before anything else, with purpose. both hands on your face, thumbs dragging softly across your cheekbones, mouth coaxing yours open.
he lays you down like youโre delicate; he thinks you deserve silk sheets and candlelight instead of dirty linens and hourly bookings. he whispers shit in your ear, calling you sweetheart, precious, babyโฆhis.
moreover, his cock is insane. freakish, even. so fucking heavy and thick, with a blunt, flushed head that stretches you way past where youโre supposed to go. and even soft, itโs bigger than most guys at their hardest. but when heโs at his full sizeโฆ
when he lines himself up and holds you open with those huge hands, thereโs this second of panic because no matter how many times heโs had you, or how wet you are, or how much prep heโs given you; it never looks like itโs going to fit.
itโs too long, too wide, veiny and obscene, drooling pearly strings of arousal, twitching against your folds like it knows itโs about to wreck you.
he always pushes in slowly, inch by inch. his face is scrunched up with effort to hold himself back from slamming in all at once, whereas youโre wriggling and already feeling stuffed with a third of his cock in you.
you feel everything, every ridge, every twitch, every throb. he splits you open and then keeps going. you claw at his back, panting, blinking through tears while he shushes you and kisses your cheek affectionately. a gesture saying โdonโt worryโ about the overwhelming size of him forcing your body to take him.
โso tight,โ he groans, forehead pressed to yours, โyouโre squeezinโ me so hard, feels like you donโt wanna let go.โ
but the worst is when he finishes.
it doesnโt make sense that thereโs so much of it. itโs not just a few warm spurts and then done, he fills you. he jerks once, twice, and then just starts pouring into you. groaning into your neck, gripping your hips so tight youโll have bruises, twitching while you feel it flood you. youโve never felt so full in your life.
his cum leaks out around his balls and your hole before he even pulls out. heโll still be inside you, balls still pressed to you, and itโs already dripping down your thighs. when he does finally slip out; slow, careful, groaning because he hates leavingโฆitโs messy. you donโt even want to look between your legs. he marks you in the most primal way possible, thick globs running out of you, coating the sheets in masses.
โlook at that,โ he whispers, stroking your hip while he stares between your legs. โtook it so good. see how much youโre holdinโ for me? youโre perfect.โ
when your husband went away without so much as a proper notice, you thought you wouldnโt forgive him so easily. but he tries everything to capture your heart back: spoiling and indulging youโฆ little do you know that he expects a reward in return
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive contentโminors do not interact!โrotten fluff, domestic bliss, explicit smut, cunnilingus, fingering, mating press, taking elements from sylusโ card night of secrecy, secret times approaching dusk and spoilers! from myth beyond cloudfall
note: my first sylus x mc fic! with this iโm spreading the soft!sylus agenda and that spicy 4-star approaching dusk has destroyed me :โ) loosely based on this post
Sometimes, you do wonderโฆ does Sylus really think youโre that easy to placate?
On one chilly morning, you woke up only to discover your hunk of a husband goneโฆ and in his side of the bed, a sticky note.
Your eyebrow twitched as you read the audacious message scrawled on it:
Hey, kitten. I need to leave for a few days. There are things I have to handle on my own. Take care of yourself while Iโm away. Iโll come back soon.
That was it. No clear explanation, no further details. Just those vague words in such short notice. The day before, heโd seemed like his usual self, not a hint of this sudden departure in sight.
୨୧ ― You’ve been pushing Caleb’s buttons all night.
It started at the formal dinner party- a champagne flute held with too casual fingers, your dress cut dangerously low, your laugh a little too loud when a gentleman leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You’d caught Caleb’s eye across the crowded ballroom and smirked, watching his jaw tighten beneath that perfectly composed Colonel’s mask.
Then came the deliberate brush of your hand against another man’s arm. The way you let some junior officer fetch you drinks. The exaggerated flutter of your lashes at anyone who wasn’t Caleb.
By the time you’re alone in his apartment, Caleb’s patience has worn tissue thin.
“You think that was funny? Cute even?” His voice is ice as he closes the distance between you, still in his dress uniform, medals glinting in the low light, “Making me watch you flirt with half my fleet?”
You tip your chin up defiantly, heart already racing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel. I was just being friendly.”
His eyes darken dangerously…
“Friendly.” He reaches up, fingers closing around the delicate chain at his throat- the necklace you gave him, the one he never takes off, “Is that what you want to call it?”
“Mhmm.” You’re playing with fire and you know it, “maybe if you had paid more attention to me instead of-”
You don’t get to finish that sentence.
Caleb moves faster than you can track, spinning you around and bending you over the arm of his leather couch. Your dress rides up, exposing the curve of your ass, and his hand pins both your wrists to the small of your back with effortless strength.
“When the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel is present,” he says, voice dropping to that low dangerous register that makes your cunt clench, “you’re not allowed to be disrespectful.”
“Make me respect you, then.” The words tumble out before you can stop them, bratty and breathless.
Oh, she wants to play? Fine. Let’s play.
You hear the soft clink of metal, and then something cool and familiar wraps around your wrists- the chain of his necklace, looped tight enough to bite into your skin without cutting off circulation. He winds it expertly, the pendant pressing against your pulse point like a brand.
“There.” His hand grips the makeshift binding, using it to arch your back further, “Now let’s see how much of that fight you have left when I’m done with you.” His other hand traces the seam of your panties, a feather light touch that makes you squirm.
“C-Caleb-”
“Colonel.” he corrects sharply, and his palm cracks against your ass hard enough to make you yelp, “You wanted to play the disrespectful little brat all night? Then you’ll address me properly while I remind you who you belong to.”
โYou lasted eight seconds on that bullโฆand Iโm wondering if you can last longer.โ
โLonger on the bull?โ you ask carefully.
His smile is wicked. โSure. Letโs start with that.โ
synopsis: you think conquering a bull looks easy, so rodeo champion sylus decides you need a lesson in ridingโin the backseat of his pickup truck
tags: nsfw, explicit sexual content, cowboy!sylus x city girl!reader, lust at first sight, riding, teaching, kissing, car sex, size difference, cowgirl position, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, sexual overstimulation, creampie, fluff + smut
I sometimes question myself whenever I reread a fic while editing it because I will squeal and be very giddy at certain parts/lines as if it’s something I’m reading for the first time.
And I have to tell myself, every time, to: “Calm the fuck down, you knew this was going to happen, you knew it was happening right there, so why are you acting like you’re in heat.”
All the fancy amenities, all the extra space because - of course he had everything custom built to his liking. All the luxury products he owned, how stocked up he was on your favorite soaps, shampoos, scrubs, creams, the list goes on and on.
The hot water never seemed to end, the fluffy towels always warmed, your after-shower products always aligned neatly on his bathroom counter. It was an at home spa experience, truly. The only thing? Using his shower came with a fee.
