An Issue On Main

Like you couldn’t do it to yourself, even if you tried. And that turns me on. Knowing I have complete control over you. Holding your hips down as I continue to suck and lick at your most sensitive parts, getting off on how loud your sobs get due to the torturous mix of pain and pleasure.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Sylus Qin is the king at dirty talk.

“That’s it… let me hear you, sweetie.” His voice is low and velvety right against your ear, lips ghosting over your skin, that rough edge curling around every syllable as his fingers slide deep and slow between your thighs.

Your breath hitches, head lolling back against his shoulder, the wet drag of his fingers working in and out of your cunny embarrassingly loud in the quiet of the bedroom. “S‑Sylus…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut, your hips already starting to roll helplessly into his hand.

“Mhm,” he hums, warm breath fanning over the curve of your neck, the faint scrape of his stubble making your stomach flip. “Say my name again, tell me what you need kitten.”

Your lips part, a shaky breath spilling out as his thumb brushes teasing circles over your swollen clit, making your toes curl. “I… I need more, Sy,” you whisper, the words catching in a needy little whimper as your hips rock again, chasing the rhythm of his hand. “Please—please, need it.”

A low chuckle rumbles against your ear, his chest pressing closer to your back, caging you in with the weight of him. His free hand slides up, splaying over your belly and holding you firm while the other hand keeps moving slow and deep, fingers curling just right inside your gummy walls until your thighs tremble.

“Greedy little thing,” Sylus murmurs, his tone dark and reverent, each word dragging heat straight to your core. He nips lightly at the soft curve of your neck, making you gasp. "Beg a little more and I might be so moved."

Sylus always held back when sparring with you.

Not because he didn’t think you were strong, no, far from it. He held back because he knew how much a hit at full speed and strength from him could hurt.

It’s taken down grown men his size, knocking them out cold. He’s single handedly destroyed wanderers with these fists, he genuinely fears he’d break your skull.

This time though, he got too into it. The sparring was good, you were on your a-game, and your determination was rubbing off on him. While he held back, you never did. You knew he could take whatever you threw at him.

Sylus would give it to you, most of your hits did hurt. Made him groan, knocked the wind out of him, if he couldn’t heal the way he can, you’d have him covered in black and blues. He fucking loved it, got off on it even.

Well, he was really into it this time, so into it that he miscalculated his movements and his fist landed with a sickening thud on your left cheek.

You yelped, heat and pain blossoming just below your eye, the same eyes that were now swimming with blurry stars and you fought to remain conscious.

Warm hands were cupping your face milliseconds later, a concerned call of your name was heard over the ringing. Sylus’ face swam into view just as the absurdity hit you, a bubbling laugh choking its way out of your mouth.

“Jesus fuck, Sy. You nearly killed me.” But there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his face. No, his expression was schooled into something nearly unreadable. Maybe concern mixed with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “How many fingers—“

But you snorted, attempting to wave him off as the stars finally blinked out of existence. “You didn’t give me a concussion, but the answer is three, and I know where I am and who you are and what we were doing ten seconds ago so I assure you—“ but Sylus only frowned.

“Mephisto, get me an ice pack.”

He’s lifting you up moment later, carrying you over to the bench by the sparring ring like you’re made of fine china. “I’m fine, Sylus.” But he tutted, sitting down and placing you on his lap. “You’re going to have a gnarly bruise.”

“You bruise me all the time.”

“That is very very different.” Mephisto is dropping an ice pack in your lap seconds later, it seems your attempts at lightening the mood would be falling flat. So, you kept your mouth shut, snuggled into his hold, and let him place the ice pack on your slightly swollen cheek bone.

Riding Sylus while he's working on his motorcycle.

You can't help yourself, not when he's laying flat on his back, the gray t-shirt riding up his abdomen, his muscles flexing as he twists random bolts and adjusts certain parts of his bike, oh and don’t forget the little noises—

It’s mouthwatering, you didn’t think it was possible for you to crave him any harder than you already did. But this? Oh this infuriatingly, effortlessly enticing display as you ready to start barking like a goddamn bitch for him.

You’re moving before your brain can properly catch up with yourself. Quick strides across his expansive garage just to stand over him, one leg on each side of his hips.

“Need something, kitten?” Of course he sensed you, but he made no effort to push out from under his bike.

“Yeah, Sy. I think I do.” And you drop down, straddling his waist and resting the full weight of your body directly over his groin. “Oh? Help yourself, kitten. You know I don’t mind.” He’s already twitching beneath you, steadily coming to life. You nearly forgot how much Sylus loved when you used him for your own gain. Turns him on so easily…

“Act like I’m not even here, Sy.” And you know that’s impossible for him, but you want him to keep working on his bike while you have your fun. His response is a quiet hum, fingers skillfully screwing another piece in.

You’re too eager to wait, lifting yourself enough to yank at the buckle and zipper of his pants. Pulling him straight from the confines of his briefs moments later. “Eager.”

A gentle, yet smug whisper. And you can’t be bothered to deny his comment, fingers wrapping around the twitching length of his cock. Feeling his warmth, his weight in your palms, your mouth watering at the sight.

You let the saliva pool, opening your mouth to let your tongue fall out. The drool dripping obscenely from your tongue and landing directly on his flushed tip. Mixing with the dribble of precum that oozes out. “Needy.”

You manage to shoot back eventually, but there is no real bite to your words. No, you’re too focused on yanking whatever layers keep your lower half from being on his. “Kitten, while you’re here, can you pass me that little red box to the left of your leg? Can’t reach.”

Despite not being able to see his face, you swear you hear the smirk in his words. “Got it.” And you reach forward, grabbing the box and sliding it slowly up his stomach, then his chest, finally within reach for him to grab.

Just as you lean backwards, you position him at your entrance. Sinking in with just a tad of resistance, but your mind was too cloudy with lust to properly prep yourself for him and his considerable size. “Kitten.”

A strained warning, he didn’t exactly like when you skipped steps. He’d be livid if you got yourself hurt using his cock. But dammit, you’d rather beg for forgiveness than wait for his permission. “…’m fine, Sy. Keep-shit-keep working.”

Surprisingly, he does, but you can sense the strain in his movements. You can visibly see his abdomen constrict as you bottom out, jaw going slack as he presses nearly uncomfortably into your cervix.

An addictive mix of pleasure and pain, unavoidable with his size, but you’ve come to truly enjoy the bite.

You can’t exactly ride him the way you desire with the way you are now, knees pressing into the concrete of his garage. So, you lift yourself slowly, whimpering at the drag of his length against your walls, and adjust your footing.

Now, you’re squatting on him, something that makes your cheeks burn, but it provides you with the stability you need. “Shit, you’re so big.” Your hands splay across his abdomen, pushing the material of his shirt up higher.

“So you’ve told me, once or twice…” but you’re sinking again, and it cuts him short as he’s wrapped in your heat fully. “Shut that pretty mouth and keep working.” You command him, feeling him shudder before resuming his initial task. He loved when you ordered him around, too.

Sylus considered himself free use for you. Whenever you wanted him, wherever you wanted him, he was yours.

Your hips found a steady rhythm, dragging yourself up and down his cock until the movements were met with no resistance. Just the velvety smooth glide of skin on skin.

Each time your hips fell, you were met with the addicting pressure against your cervix, nearly doubling you over. Wanton moans slipping past your lips in huffs, sweat building along your hairline as you tried to fuck yourself on him similarly to how he’d fuck you normally.

But dammit, it really was a lot of work.

“S-Sylus…” and you know he knows, because you feel his legs adjust behind you. “Hold on.”

Your head is craning back, eyes widening slightly as you see him brace his two leather boot clad feet on the floor. His knees bend, nearly bumping you forward. You’re left fisting the material of his shirt with one hand, and gripping the leather of his bike seat with the other.

“Work with me, kitten. I’ll help you out.” And he thrusts upwards, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips before you can process what he means. Then, he picks up where you left off. Somehow still fiddling with the underside of his bike while his hips piston up into your hot cunt.

You bring your hips down to meet each thrust, the steady pap pap of your bodies connecting threatens to make your eyes roll back. The fleeting friction against your aching clit is enough to have your walls fluttering, the string tightening as your cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure.

“S-shit I’m gonna cum…”

Sylus doesn’t answer you verbally, rather, he thrusts deeper. Letting you grind yourself against him until you’re seeing stars before continuing his previous pace.

The air in your lungs seems to freeze, entire body stiffening as you grip onto him like a vice. Your orgasm rips through you, your walls immediately spasming around him as a you soak his hips with your release. You barely come down, vision clouded with stars when you feel him pour into you.

It’s only when he stops twitching that he finally pushes himself out from under his bike, both of you flinching as you not so gently bottom out again. He’s sweaty, oil and bike grime smeared on his cheeks and arms. But he looks blissed out, not quite sated, but relaxed.

"what's wrong with you? you look so nervous."

"nervous? I'm not nervous."

"oh yeah? 'cause, when i touch you right here..."

"ah...!"

"your face gets all red."

"it's just a natural reaction, sweetie."

sylus says, though his cheeks have been slightly dusted with a rosy tint. his breath hitches when you run a teasing digit across his bare chest.

"you're blushing."

sylus scoffs a little and glances away, consciously reaching to stop your hand from moving further down his torso. you can't help but giggle.

"i'd never think you'd be one to have a sensitive chest, sy."

he releases your hand, which just falls back onto his chest. your fingers drag up from his abs to his pecs, teasing the spot right between the muscles. you earn a sharp gasp from the silver haired man.

"everyone has places they are sensitive, kitten."

he says this, though you don't know sylus for his sensitivity; him and the word simply don't go together.

"i wonder where else you're sensitive, then?"

two of your digits slowly trail downwards. sylus' breath hitches again as his dark gaze watches you. he already know where your fingers are headed.

small tuffs of hair are visible over the waistband of his slightly low pants. pretty happy trail, you think. with a curious, false head tilt of innocence, your hand grazes just a bit too low. you find his bulge in his slacks. how dare his slacks block you from seeing it.

"are you sensitive down here?"

with a soft purr, you draw lazy circles and trace the thickness at his crotch. sylus leans his head back and has to force himself not to moan. your touches feathery light, just barely touching him. god, what a tease.

"i think you are..."

"but i'm curious..."

instead of touching him more down there, you move your hand back up to his chest. soft, teasing touches that drift across his skin have him nearly about to break. sweat starts to bead at his forehead.

"sweetie..."

he grunts, reaching to grab your hand, but you pull away before he can. you giggle.

"you look like a mess, sy.... and just from me touching your chest?"

sylus looks slightly embarrassed, flustered. his lidded red eyes stare at you, a silent plea for you to not do this, to not make him into even more into a mess. you did not hear the plea, too playful and in the moment.

he knows how sensitive his chest is. how touch... specifically your touch, oh god, it feels like heaven. doesn't matter if its light touches of full on caresses. his mind goes blank, every muscle in his body tenses in just the right way. and of course, he gets aroused. he can't help it; his nonchalant facade washes away completely.

a small moment of clarity crossed his mind before it washed right away again.

his eyes widen; your lips meet his chest. soft lips kissing his most sensitive area. you must be trying to kill him, surely.

"...!"

all sylus can do is gasp and let moans fall from his mouth. he stares down at you, seeing that snarky little look- you knew what you were doing to him. you were worshipping him, but teasing him to no end. and he couldn't get enough.

"...what...what are you..."

"having fun... i think i like you being sensitive here."

when you glance back down to his crotch, you smile and giggle.

"you're messy, sy."

Synopsis: You can run from it, but are you ready to face the consequences?

Warnings: Free use, overstim, faux sympathy, dumbification, Voyeurism, thrill of being caught, teasing, degrading, praising, these boys are jealousss.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Xavier

Xavier is like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Your snuggly little guy, playing the part of a perfect co-worker and neighbor!

Until he has you pinned under him, knees to your chest in a mean mating press.

“You just had to smile like that at Nero, hm? You truly cannot be so stupid, to think you wouldn’t end up in this position after that.” All you did was thank Nero for reports you’d asked him to obtain.

But Xavier didn’t like that.

And the punishing thrust to your cervix was proof of that.

“M’ ngh! M’ sorry! I can’t-Xav I can’t-“

You try to squirm away but Xavier only shakes his head at your pathetic attempts. He grabs both ankles in a single hand, bends your knees just so and-

You are sobbing, feeling him so deep in your tummy it almost hurts to breathe.

“Now be a good girl and I won’t treat that cute little updo like a cum rag. Don’t run again.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Rafayel

Rafayel was obsessed with your body in a nearly obsessive way. Especially when it came to how you bowed and cried under his care.

He has both of your arms pinned behind your back, his arm looped around them for leverage. The gold plated mirror in his studio showed each time his cock slipped in and out of you.

“I’m gonna pain this later, put it in my private collection so I have something to keep me company when you’re gone.” The sentiment would be sweet, if your thighs weren’t twitching from overstimulation.

The head of his cock sits a punishing pace against the wall of your cervix and you try to find leverage with your feet to escape.

Rafayel hates that.

He bends you forward, cheek pressed into the cold marble and drills into you with barely controlled lust.

“Aw cutie, I was giving you a good show! But I guess even the best muses need molded.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Zayne

Zayne has finally snapped. Between the bratty behavior and the audacity you had to stick your tongue out at him during his presentation to the board, you were done for.

Bent over his desk, he didn’t care that someone could walk in, he didn’t care that you were drooling over his stethoscope that probably costed more than your rent.

“Is this what you wanted? A strong, independent young woman to be degraded like a common whore?”

Why yes, it was.

But Zayne wasn’t letting up on his solid thrusts that sent you spiraling.

He’s ripped a 4th orgasm from you and the pretty polished nails (that he paid for of course) scratched at the wood of his desk.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, lifting your face off the desk to growl into your ear.

“You don’t get to run from this punishment. Take it.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Caleb

Oh our poor sweet Caleb.

He wasn’t being very sweet right now.

How could he be? He’d caught you talking to Gideon a little too long for his liking. You were giggling all cute and shit, asking Gideon to take you on a ride in HIS aircraft!

So Caleb, being a sweet boyfriend, gave you a ride!

Well, that ride was his cock. His feet planted on the mattress while he held you in place with strong hands. His balls slapped the crevice of your ass and you were pretty sure his goal was to drive a hole straight through you.

“Smile at me like you smiled at him. Cmon Pips, cheeseeee!” His faux kindness made your eyes water. You tried to find purchase on his chest to push yourself off but Caleb swatted your hands away.

“Hands behind your back, soldier. You wanna act like a Barracks Bunny, I’ll treat ya like one.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Sylus

Sylus didn’t have to be fast or harsh with his punishment. But he was always thorough.

You’d ran off without his permission on a mission, yet again.

You returned to the N109 Zone covered in bruises. Now, after your wounds were tended to, he was lounging on the chaise sofa, rolling his hips into you from behind.

It would’ve been so sweet and gentle, if he hadn’t already wrenched 3 orgasms from you with his cock alone.

“Sy-“

His hand clamps over your mouth, index and middle finger grabbing your tongue. You drool over his fingers even as you try to push back on his hips to escape that feeling of lightning in your bones.

Sylus growls into your ear, taking his spit soaked finger and giving a warning slap to your flushed cheeks.

“Don’t ever run from me. I’ve chased after you for years, I’m not letting you get away now.”

I startle awake and I find myself strapped down, on my knees, with my legs straddling a sybian and my arms tied tightly behind me. There are more ropes wrapped around my knees, keeping my body pressed firmly against the machine. I’m naked and I can feel the ridges of the machine pressed harshly against my bare core, the pressure forcing my clit to bear full contact against the smooth material of the machine.

My eyes dart around the room as I struggle uselessly against my bindings. The room is so dimly lit that I can hardly see a few feet in front of me.

Y’know, the kind where you can’t breathe, can barely speak, laughing so hard your stomach hurts and tears are streaming down your face. You’re not quite sure if your lover is capable of laughing in such a manner.

Though, that uncertainty certainly hasn’t stopped you. Like now, for instance, you’re currently clinging to his arm, nearly doubled over as your hysterical laughter goes silent.

Nothing but your death grip on his arm and the unstoppable shaking of your shoulders to let Sylus know you are, in fact, still losing it. “Sweetie…” and he feels it, feels laughter bubbling in his own chest.

The scene before the two of you wasn’t even all that funny, he’d blame the lack of sleep and the late hour of the night for it hitting such a nerve in your system. But, still, your unbridled laughter is infectious… even to him.

“Sweetie it wasn’t even that funny…” but he’s struggling to swallow his own laugh as you snort.

“You’re going to wake Mephisto.” He attempts to subdue you again, but your once silent laughter now turns into shrieks and he finds himself full on laughing with you.

The sound of something so rich, melodic, it stuns your fit of laughter for a moment. Leaving you staring at him in wide, teary eyed shock.

But, you find that his giggles are equally as contagious. 

Suddenly, you’re a mess all over again. Falling into his vibrating chest as you both give into the late night hysteria.

Jealous zayne is hot 👁🫦👁!