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loveanddeepthroat · 25 days

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Trouble

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - As it turned out, lavish events in the N109 Zone were not quite your thing, and this one did nothing but prove it. You weren’t looking for trouble, but it often had a way of finding you.

Word Count - 6.4k

Warning - MDNI. 18+. Oral sex f!receiving. Fingering. Light bondage. Mention of murder.

You were in trouble.

Not that it was immediately bothering you. You were having a good time—it wasn’t your fault that the rest of your companions were quite clearly not.

And besides, it wasn’t as if you were breaking any rules. Sylus had simply advised that you remain where he and the twins could see you upon your arrival at the lavish event, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

Whilst you watched a delectable cocktail being made for you at the bar as per a stranger's request, the three sets of eyes in various places around the room burned holes in your head as they watched you and the nameless man like a hawk. You only threw a few glances at each of them, catching Luke waving the tips of his fingers against his neck in a warning to get away from the guy.

You did no such thing, however. Listening to people kissing Sylus’s ass to stay out of his warpath had quickly bored you half to death, and some stimulation was very necessary for your withering attention span. You didn’t think much of the man who had approached you at the bar. He was dressed up like every other guy in the room, but he held a familiar air of dominance around him. Just as a certain silver haired man fuming a dozen metres away did.

The man ordered you what he deemed as being the best cocktail you would ever drink, along with an identical one for himself. One sip had led to another, your glass completely drained in a matter of a few seconds. He had another one raring to go before your glass landed back on the mahogany bar.

“Didn’t I tell you? The perfect cocktail.” The slight grin he shot you revealed two golden teeth that replaced his natural canines. You imagined the man would be quite intimidating to look at for most, but you took down Wanderers for a living. He’d need to do a lot more than flash his expensive gold fangs at you to make you feel threatened.

Not that you were getting that impression from him in the first place. He actually seemed rather pleasant.

“It’s delicious,” you agreed, already starting on the second.

He perched himself on the stool beside you, taking a sip of his own as he studied you for a moment. “You came with Sylus, huh?”

You nod, not seeing any harm in answering truthfully. “Is it obvious?”

The man chuckled. “His eyes are like lasers through my skull,” he crooned. He turned his head to wiggle his fingers in greeting to your companion. You didn’t dare turn to look in the same direction. “So, what are you doing on your little lonesome, darling?”

A shiver ran up your spine at the pet name. It was almost as if Sylus had caused it as a warning to you. You could feel his patience thinning by the second.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you responded, starting to feel a bit like a worm in the sights of a crow.

Although you weren’t entirely sure which of the two men were making you feel so much pressure all of a sudden.

A blaringly obvious hand shot in the air a little distance behind the silver-eyed man beside you, catching your attention. Kieran had attracted more than just your attention as he threw his thumb back over his shoulder, eagerly coaxing you away from the man.

It was time to wrap things up.

You finally took the hint and slipped off of the barstool and onto your stilettos, your movement mirrored by the man before you. A large hand landed upon your shoulder, causing you to freeze up. At first, you thought it was his hand clamped there, but the sheer size and strength as it gave you a small squeeze was immediately recognisable.

Sylus.

Putting your face in one of the large fireplaces in the room sounded more appealing than looking up at him at that moment, so you kept your gaze on the sly smirk now spreading across the shorter male’s face.

“Sylus. It’s about time our paths crossed tonight,” he crooned. Gone was the admittedly quite charming face you had been accompanied by, replaced with one that could be compared to that of a viper.

This man was not someone you should have engaged with.

Sylus’s firm grip remained on your tensed shoulder, anchoring you to him. His voice was cool and indifferent, like he was already bored by the idea of conversing with the individual.

“If you fancied my attention, Frank, all you had to do was say,” he drawled.

Frank cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes dropping to your chest. You suddenly felt a little overexposed in the plunged neckline of your fitted black dress.

“I was just on my way to you when I stumbled upon a lonely little stray,” Frank purred, his cold, lingering gaze finally flickering back up to your face.

Hiding the disgust in your expression was difficult, but you had a feeling it would be wise to at least try. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the twins standing together, watching the situation unfold. They were always ready to get involved if required.

Sylus chuckled, not one iota of humour in it. “I didn’t take you for the type of man to take pity on a stray kitten,” he said flatly. “Especially one with its collar on.”

He slipped a long finger into the chain of your ruby encrusted choker, giving it the smallest of tugs. You didn’t hate it, and honestly, you felt it more in the pit of your stomach than you did in your neck. Now didn’t seem like the time to think on that, mind.

The backs of his fingers smoothed over your racing pulse as he pulled the digit back out of the small space in your tight neckpiece. You shivered quite noticeably, the sensation awakening the pulse between your thighs.

“As you can see, this one is already taken care of.”

You didn’t miss the flare of hostility in Frank’s silver eyes as he followed every movement of Sylus’s hand—even as it moved to hang from his trouser pocket with his thumb tucked inside.

“Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash. Anyone could have gotten their hands on her,” Frank said tightly. It sounded awfully identical to a threat. “This is hardly the room full of people you would want to lose such a precious little thing in.”

Sylus didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed your arms and moved you to the side, away from Frank’s cold glare. Before you could even react, two strong arms either side of you hooked your arms with their elbows.

Luke and Kieran practically dragged you away, your feet struggling to keep up. As soon as you were released from their bone crushing clamps for inner elbows, you turned back to the interaction you were just kidnapped from.

Only to find the space completely empty.

“Okay, either you’re blind or really, really stupid,” Luke scolded.

You frowned back at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?”

“No, we won’t excuse you,” he snapped. “We’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking up different ways to dispose of your body after Frank was done with you.”

“Honestly, woman. Do we have to take you over the basic commands, again? I looked like a tool flapping my arms at you!” Kieran chimed in, looking like he was telling off a toddler.

Unsure whether it was the alcohol or their incessant rambling, you were starting to feel quite overwhelmed. You weren’t sure what they had seen differently while you were sitting with Frank, but you knew that the man had to have had a sinister intention for occupying you.

“Wait, wait,” you cut them off as Luke started to scold you again. “Shouldn’t we go find them?”

They both stared at you for a moment before bursting into obnoxious laughter. You weren’t sure what the joke was, but you were confident you wouldn’t find it funny even if you did.

If Sylus had gone off alone with the unfriendly man, then surely he would need the three of you there, too.

“You’re lucky you still have a tongue in your mouth to be able to make dumbass suggestions like that,” Luke sneered, still shaking from his chuckles.

You clenched your fists at your sides, irritated by their insults. How were you supposed to know that Golden Teeth was an enemy? You weren’t exactly well versed in the good and the bad when it came to attending events in the N109 Zone.

If they were that concerned, they could have remained beside you.

Each minute that passed without a visual on Sylus felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three minuscule minutes went by before he emerged from a door beside the bar.

His facial expression gave away absolutely nothing, but the red split in his lip did. You swallowed as you watched his tongue peak out to run over the small laceration, followed by the pad of his thumb. It disappeared in an instant at his touch.

You began to walk towards him, curious about what the hell had just happened, and if Frank was still breathing. Before you could open your mouth, however, he bent at the waist the second he got close to you, his shoulder connecting with your stomach as he hauled you off of your feet.

“What the—what the fuck are you doing?!”

He did not dignify you with a response as he stormed towards the exit, his solid arm squeezing your knees into his ribs as you started to assault his back.

“Put. Me. Down,” you grit between harsh slaps to his back. You might as well have been flicking his ear for all the difference it was making.

He carried you straight out of the building and towards the matte black saloon car Kieran had driven you all in earlier that evening. You were utterly furious and embarrassed, doing everything in your power to wriggle out of his hold.

“I can walk!”

Sylus snorted. Snorted, like it was funny. No humour lay in his tone as he spoke, though. “Well that’s a little hard to believe.”

You whacked his muscled back again. “Meaning?!”

He yanked open the back door of the car, practically dropping you into it on your back. You felt it again, at the worst possible time.

That flutter of lust in your core.

It was something about the way he stood over you as you panted from the physical exertion of trying to fight his spine. He must’ve been able to see up the short skirt of your dress, and you hoped to god he didn’t spot any indication of your arousal on the cherry red thong you were wearing.

“Meaning, you had plenty of opportunity to use these apparent walking skills when your safety was threatened,” he growled, moving your legs so he could slam the car door, not interested in anything you had to say back.

You huffed as you pushed down on the unfolded mass of clothes in your backpack, trying to fit them all in.

It had been hours since you all got back from the absolute disaster of a night, and you had been holed up in the room you were occupying since then. Part of you expected Sylus to come and explain what the hell his problem had been, but he didn’t.

The longer you sat and dwelled on it, the more you wanted to go home. You only came to stay because he’d asked you to attend the event with him. He hadn’t mentioned that you were expected to stay by his side like an obedient dog. Nor had he bothered to mention the types of people you were to avoid.

Not only were you pissed at him, but you were pissed at the fact that he’d made you feel a certain way. Who in their right mind gets aroused by a man embarrassing you by hauling you out of a room full of people—likely with your bare ass on show.

Scientists would have a field day with your brain.

And although you hated to admit it, it wasn’t the first time you had felt that familiar feeling of lust at his touch. The last time you had stayed, you had to relieve yourself in the shower after training with him in the ring. Every inch of him was sculpted with perfect precision, almost as if an architect had dedicated their life to working on his blueprint.

If you were being honest, you weren’t bothered about the event he wanted you to attend when he’d asked you to join him. You just wanted to see him.

But at the end of the day, you had no idea where you belonged in his world. In Linkon, a friendly face buying you a drink wasn’t something to be feared. It was exhausting having to recluse whenever you accompanied him anywhere.

The clasps of your bag struggled as you tried and failed to clip them together. You had no idea how you were getting back to your apartment, but you were confident in your ability to just suck it up and figure it out. Even if you had to trek there in your most expensive pair of (uncomfortable) stilettos.

You slipped your feet out of them, throwing your barely closed bag over your shoulders before picking the silky, red shoes up. They’re far too noisy against Sylus’s marble floor for you to be able to slip out without being accosted by him or the twins.

Without so much as a squeak, you gently turned the doorknob, pulling the door slowly to peer down the long hallway. Nobody could be seen or heard, so you slipped out and carefully closed the door behind you to not draw suspicion.

You hurried yourself down the hallway to get to the front door, stopping dead in your tracks as you turned the corner.

Mephisto was perched outside of Sylus’s bedroom door, his beady red eyes on you in an instant. Like hell was the glorified magpie going to let you pass him without kicking up a fuss.

“If you keep your scrap-metal beak shut, I’ll be out of your feathers. Got it?” Your voice was a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.

He did not make a sound as you slowly passed him, keeping your eyes on his as he followed your every move across the luxury floors. By the time you had passed him, you were fully convinced that he was willing to let you go. The minute you took your eyes off him, though, he started to screech.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Oh for fuck sake! You couldn’t just work with me for once in your—”

“CAW!”

“I wasn’t finished you squawking little—”

You were cut off by Sylus’s door opening, his unamused expression still ever present on his face. He was freshly showered, silver hair dripping onto the bare expanse of chest showing between the lapels of his bathrobe. You had to swallow a noise that rudely made its way up from your suddenly dry throat.

Eyes as red as the rubies around your neck flickered between Mephisto, you, and the bag over your shoulder. He clicked his fingers, sending his winged companion away.

“I was under the impression that you were above cussing out mechanical crows,” he drawled, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

It wasn’t clear whether or not he was joking, considering the less-than humorous look on his face. Either way, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.”

“I can see that,” he responded immediately, nodding towards your barely closed bag. “And how, exactly, are you planning to get there?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught sneaking out to a party. “I’ll figure that out myself.”

Holding his cold stare wasn’t usually a challenge for you, but you found yourself desperate to look away. You had compared Frank’s domineering aura to Sylus’s earlier, but it didn’t actually come close to the man before you.

You had seen men and women strapped with weapons that could swiftly eliminate even the most dangerous of Wanderers cower at the sight of Sylus. He was the true definition of a force to be reckoned with.

He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, his hand slipping into the pocket of his robe. “You’re not leaving without a ride home. You’re over the limit, and if I wanted you to be skinned alive walking through the N109 Zone, I’d open the front door for you.”

“You give me a lift then,” you rebuked, your patience already thinning.

Sylus offered half a shrug. “I could, but I don’t make a habit of going out half naked.” You hoped to the lord that he didn’t see your shiver at the fact that he was only concealed by a thin robe. “You’re welcome to ask Luke and Kieran.”

“And where are they?”

The corner of his lip curled so subtly that you almost didn’t see it. “Out.”

You growled at his relaxed attitude. Why the hell would he even suggest it if they weren’t around?

“They’re cleaning up a mess of mine,” he answered as if you had asked.

A chill ran through you. “Would that mess happen to be Frank’s body?”

Sylus turned away from you, strolling into his room. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you followed him in, suddenly wanting answers.

“Well?”

Dark tendrils coiled around the bag on your back, gently tugging it down your arms and carrying it out of the room, closing the door on the way out. You had a feeling your belongings were heading back to where you just came from.

Sylus fiddled with the sleek black turntable in the corner of the room, carefully setting a vinyl record into place. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d hauled you into the car.

“You’re aware of the saying, right? Curiosity killed…” he trailed off, putting the pin in its place upon the record.

You frowned at his back. “The cat?”

He blew out a short laugh, not an ounce of humour in it. “The crook.”

He turned back towards you, slowly making his way to where you were a little rigid by the door. There was that feeling again. That you were a worm in the sights of a crow.

“Tell me,” he crooned, stopping right where your forehead would connect with his heart if you took half a step forward. “What was it about Frank that had you feeling adventurous, hm?”

You forced yourself to look up at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how close you were. “What do you mean?”

“Kitten, I can read you like the nervous wrecks who attempt to double cross me. Don’t play dumb, it does not suit you.”

His eyes were fierce and serious, but you hadn’t a clue what he was getting at. Your silence only lasted a few seconds before he leaned towards your shoulder.

“What was it that attracted you to him?” He whispered so quietly that you just about heard him over the thrum of your rapid heartbeat.

Attracted to him? In the approximately two minutes you had spent with Frank at the bar, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him.

You stepped away, your back connecting with the door immediately. Even with the slight gap, his look over your much smaller form was rather harrowing. And yet you felt that unhelpful flutter in your core again, so strong that your knees wobbled in place. What was this man doing to you?

“Did you hit your head this morning?” You bit back, clenching the muscles of your thighs tightly to relieve some of the pressure there. “You think that I had an eye for him because he bought me a drink?”

He closed the gap again, his large palm resting against the door right beside your head. “Why else would you not walk away when you were quite blatantly warned to do so.”

“Maybe because I was tired of—” you cut yourself off before you could finish.

You had told yourself that the reason you hadn’t wanted to remain at his side was because you were tired of watching people practically tremble in his presence.

Now, though, you weren’t sure that was the sole reason.

Every woman in that damn room had an eye on him, and it had made you feel…strange. You weren’t typically a jealous person by nature, but tonight had proved you capable of such emotions. In fact, you were practically tearing the heads off of beautiful women in your mind, wanting to punish them all for having the audacity to look at him like he was a piece of meat.

Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “Tired of…?”

You huffed rather childishly, turning your head away from his hard stare. “Of the attention that certain people were giving you,” you begrudgingly admit.

There was no use lying to him, since falsely having him believe that you were actually interested in Frank seemed like a sure way to get on his bad side—if you weren’t already on it.

With his hand that wasn’t resting beside your head, he took a hold of your jaw, carefully turning your face back to his. “And would these people happen to be women?”

You merely shrugged, having no desire to discuss the matter any further.

Sylus studied you for a moment, contemplating. He looked as if he couldn’t decide between scolding you or shaking some sense into you. You were almost shocked that he didn’t go straight to mocking you, but you had an inclination that he had felt the same thing whilst you sat at the bar with one of his enemies.

He dropped his head beside yours again, murmuring in your ear. “If you wanted my attention, sweetie, I would have given it to you.”

You almost moaned, his breath tickling the sensitive column of your throat. Lifting a hand, you grabbed onto his wrist to steady yourself, only for him to pull out of your grasp immediately.

A flash of fear shot through you at his sudden rejection, but it was almost immediately soothed as he pried your fingers open enough to slip his own between them, pinning your hand to the door.

“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you could have been in tonight?” It was a growling question that didn’t require an answer. You felt your breath pick up in pace, the swollen peaks of your nipples skimming the top of his abs every time your chest heaved. “Frank has been known to have a string of disappearing acquaintances. He wouldn’t hesitate to maim you out of spite to me.”

You shuddered at the thought of being so close to a killer. And yet the proximity between you and Sylus did not give you that same feeling of dread. You know that he has killed many before, and despite not having his death confirmed or denied just yet, you knew that Frank was now somewhere in the afterlife, hopefully being accosted by the people he had killed.

You knew, but you had to ask.

“Did you kill him because I was speaking to him?”

Sylus shook his head, pulling back just enough that he could look you in the eyes. “I killed him because it was long overdue. I’ve had men who have been sent out to keep an eye on that bastard, and many of them did not return,” he explained quietly, a hint of frustration in his tone. “If I had taken my eyes off of you for a second—”

He audibly swallowed, cutting himself off. You could easily guess what he was going to say, and clearly the mere thought of it was haunting him.

A wash of guilt fell over you. If you had just walked away when you were told, he wouldn’t have had to do anything.

“He wasn’t going to take one more person from me,” he finally gritted.

That very thought should have filled you with dread. It should have made you sick to your stomach.

But the mention of his eyes on you for every second you weren’t beside him caused a spreading warmth to grow in your chest. Despite the situation you hadn’t realised you were in, you had been safe that whole time under his watch.

“I would have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair,” you said, only half joking to diffuse the tension between you.

He didn’t seem amused by it at all, his grip on your hand tightening. “Like I said, kitten. If I wanted you dead, I’d be seeing you out of the front door instead of standing here, resisting urges I have no right to have.”

Your thighs pressed together again at his whispered confession. His eyes always warned of danger, but they were gleaming with desire.

You were not losing out on him tonight.

With the most tender of touches, you ran the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest with your free hand, feeling his steady breath falter. He swallowed thickly, suffocating your hand in his against the door.

“I apologise,” he whispered gruffly, his head dipping to where your collarbone was visible to him in the neckline of your dress.

You shuddered as his breath danced across your clammy skin, droplets from his wet hair falling against your chest. “For what?”

“Handling you the way I did.” His lips were mere inches away from you, and it took all your strength not to grab the back of his head and slam his face into your chest. “The thought of that bastard doing something—”

“Kiss me.”

Sylus didn’t give you a chance to cringe at your own slip up as every inch of him pressed you into the door, his mouth attacking your pulse with expert precision. You let loose a shaky moan, your nails scratching down his rock hard pectoral.

Every ounce of animosity you had been harbouring since the event dissipated at his touch. He was rough and unrelenting, his indistinguishable power overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible.

“Lower,” you breathed softly, wanting him everywhere.

You weren’t sure how he heard you, but he obeyed your hushed command. In one swift movement, his free arm clutched you around your waist, lifting you up. Both of your legs perched perfectly either side of him, suffocating his waist.

With his newfound access to your already exposed chest, he immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the thin layer of skin over your collarbones. The pain of sharp teeth sinking into flesh married faultlessly with undeniable pleasure, causing you to writhe against him.

A firm bulge pressed against your heat as he ground himself against your cunt. Even with the sensation being drastically muted by the material of your thong and his robe being between you, you appreciated the absolute weapon he was concealing beneath his nightly attire.

“Ah—” you gasped, the soft sound immediately erased by a sharp hiss as he sunk his teeth into your skin again.

His mouth slowly travelled down to the tops of your breasts, where he pressed uncharacteristically tender kisses to each one. You were a wriggling, desperate mess already, but he was still sane enough to take a moment to study your chest.

“I have always appreciated art,” he crooned.

He removed the arm that held you around your waist, purely holding you up with his lower body alone. Your breasts were granted a sweet release as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, pulling the material out of his way like a man depraved.

It was the look in his eye. A million compliments that didn’t need to be put into words. You could see them. Hell, you could feel the utter captivation radiating from him.

Your free hand smoothed over the delicious muscle of his shoulders before curling around the back of his neck. With a swift yank of his head, his mouth locked onto one of your firm nipples. Back arching off of the door, you cried out as his tongue swirled and flicked the sensitive area, leaving you a little mindless.

He finally let go of your hand, hungry to feel more of you. One hand pushed up your thigh, the skirt of your dress riding up with the movement before he squeezed your hip. The other cupped your neglected breast, thumb brushing over your pert nipple as if it were the joystick on a gaming console. Up, down, left, right, and all over again.

It was almost too much, and yet you still wanted more. He ground himself against you again, your head slamming back against the door with a reverberating thud. You felt it this time. The thickness of his solid shaft, followed by the damp sensation of your arousal.

You needed him there. Now.

“Mm—” you mumbled pathetically, unable to get a word out.

Sylus chuckled against the breast he was feasting on. “What was that, sweetie?”

All you could do was wriggle yourself against his cock, hoping to convey a message to him without the need to trip over your words. You wanted to swallow up every inch of it with your warmth, leaving it glowing like a damn firefly with the glistening sheen of your essence.

“I know that pretty mouth of yours can talk,” he whispered against the column of your throat. “Tell me what you want.”

Your mouth was dry, like the space between your legs had stolen your saliva to lubricate you further.

“More.”

Sylus clicked his tongue. “There are nicer ways to ask.”

You knew he wasn’t being serious, but you would have begged on your knees at this point. He had to have felt your legs trembling against his waist, aching for him to fill you.

“Since you haven’t specified…” he began, pulling his head back completely.

For a second, you thought you had actually irritated him. There was a darkness in his stare, a hunger. You couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter once the dark tendrils of his Evol snaked around your arms, dragging them up above your head. Your eyes widened.

Was he going to leave you tied up here?

“Do you trust me, sweetie?”

Any sane person being restrained against a door by the literal epitome of bad news himself would have frantically shook their head.

But you didn’t. You trusted him with every damn crevice of your soul.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He brought up a hand to stroke your side before hooking it under your thigh, along with the other one. One swift lift had you hurtling upwards, as if you weighed no more than a spaniel puppy.

Your legs were quickly on his shoulders, securing him a front row seat to your soaked thong. Getting any wetter had to be impossible, but your position was serving to give it a good try. Wrists tightly secured above your head, your legs wrapped around his neck, and his warm breath fanning over your damp thighs.

No throne in the most lavish palace on earth would be more tempting than this seat of yours.

His crimson eyes flickered up to your face, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze. “Is this where you want me?”

You nodded rapidly before his hand came up to hold your jaw, halting your wordless answer.

“Words please, kitten,” he requested.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sylus.”

He grinned, an unnerving and yet exciting sight. Wasting no time, he gripped the flimsy material of your cheap thong, tearing it at the seams to grant himself access to your bare cunt.

There was no teasing. No small pecks to your inner thighs. Not even a warning before his hot, balmy tongue lapped up a line of your juices through your folds, slowly dragging over the bundle of nerves nestled within. It took him no time at all to figure out where that heavenly little mound was, as if he knew your body like the back of his veiny hand.

Teeth. Tongue. Lips. All three of them fighting brutally for their moment on your clit, as if he couldn’t figure out which to use first. Your brain could hardly keep up with the flitting between this and that. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop.

Your legs tightened around his head in a bone-crushing squeeze. The suffocation only served to push him further, like he was fuelled by the possibility of having his jaw crushed like a damn walnut between your thighs.

“I could think of worse ways to go,” he growled against your hole, nose buried deeply into your folds to inhale your scent.

He pressed further into you, his tongue penetrating you with a greedy lick down your plush walls. Your hips jolted of their own accord at the sensation. He was your puppet master, making you grind and flinch on demand with his calculated actions.

The more his tongue slid in and out of you—the tip of his nose perfectly hitting your clit every time—the more of him you wanted inside of you.

Gone were your soft, airy moans. You were crying out to whoever would listen, announcing to the world beyond the walls that you were being fucking devoured by the most feared mouth in the N109 Zone.

A mouth that could bring grown men to their trembling knees with one mere bark of an order.

You were drunk on it.

He slowly withdrew his tongue, immediately swallowing. “Like candy,” he murmured.

He licked at his lips, eyes trained on the concoction of his saliva and your fluids with awe. His hand shifted from where it had still been gripping your thigh, the soft pads of his fingers tracing circles around your hole for lubrication.

“Can you handle them?” He didn’t look up as he asked, fixated on the patterns he was repeatedly drawing through your folds.

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

He clicked his tongue. “Words.”

“Yes.”

He seemed to make quite the habit of just diving in as soon as he had permission. In one swift push, he impaled you on his lengthy index finger, his knuckles pressing against your pelvic bone.

You cried out towards the ceiling. “Fuck!”

“You must’ve had some pretty disappointing experiences down here, sweetie,” he purred. “You’re so very tight.”

Every muscle in the lower half of your body was quivering with need, your hips unable to still themselves. He wasn’t wrong, nobody had ever truly left you gasping or crying out to the heavens.

You had a feeling he was about to change that.

Slowly, he dragged the digit back out, making sure to scrape down on your walls as he did. He began a steady rhythm, plunging his finger in and out of you lazily. His eyes held a repertoire of fascination, as if he’d been dreaming up this moment for quite some time.

He didn’t rush to add the second digit, but as soon as he did, you lost all sense of reality. The curling and pounding was precise and calculated, every brush of your neglected g-spot extracting a whimpering moan from you.

“Ngh…oh fuck,” you managed through a shuddering breath.

“Good girl,” he praised huskily. “I want to feel you come undone. Can you do that for me, darling?”

If he kept talking to you like that, it was going to happen a lot sooner than he would expect. The mental challenge of holding back was near impossible, and seemed to be displeasing him.

He picked up his pace. Firm, brutal bucks of his hand giving you every push towards that edge that you were trying to keep a distance from. You were yanking at the tendrils gripping your wrists, crying out pathetically at the sheer velocity of his fingers.

“I hope you’re not holding back on me,” he warned quietly.

He wanted you to finish. He was so very desperate to feel your release that he was practically shoving you towards it.

You couldn’t deny him.

The building pressure in your core gave out as you orgasmed, a litany of thuds marrying the sounds of your pleasured cries whilst you writhed against the door. Sylus, at the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers, became a little breathless himself. He didn’t slow his pace, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure until your very last whimper.

By the time you had caught your breath, the restraints on your hands slowly loosened, and you expected to be put back down onto solid ground.

Instead, Sylus brought his mouth back to your folds, clearing up the aftermath of your first real orgasm. He was slow and gentle, savouring the taste like a vintage bottle of wine.

He was gentle when lowering you back to the floor, your legs trembling beneath you. You kept a hold of his arms, looking up at his hazy eyes. Anyone would think that he’d been the one on the receiving end of oral sex.

You wanted to give back. You wanted to see everything beneath his robe.

And apparently, your need was rather obvious.

“Not tonight, kitten,” he murmured, fixing your dress to cover your exposed body.

You didn’t know if you were more perplexed or hurt. Why not tonight? Did he not see you capable enough of being able to return the favour?

He brushed a strand of your unruly hair behind your ear in a contrasting manner to how he’d been handling you earlier. “I won’t know when to stop.”

You shuddered at the thought. “I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t a lie. He could bend you over the railing of the balcony for the whole city to see, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

But he wasn’t budging, the corner of his glistening lips curling upwards at your eagerness. “I don’t doubt that.”

He leaned towards your ear, his voice a low whisper.

“But it’s going to take a lot more than my saliva and your sweet fluids to help you take me, sweetie.”

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Text

The Fox's Den {Sylus x Reader}

This just kinda...spilled out of my brain... It started off as a few paragraphs and then spiraled into this, but uh, enjoy.

FAIR WARNING!!! THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG, I MIGHT HAVE TO SPLIT IT INTO PARTS ACTUALLY IDK

You’re finishing some paperwork at HQ when Jenna slides a manila folder on your desk.

“Advance tech labs has another mission for you.” She says and crosses her arms over her chest, “Hear them out first. Then go take a look.”

As if on cue, your watch beeps with a notification.

You click on it and the mission’s user interface window pops up.

Client: Unspecified - Investigative mission Status: ACTIVE Authorisation: Approved entry - No Hunt Zones: 105, 106, 107, 108

Task details: High-class Linkon residents have been seen carrying protocores to Fox’s Den, a host club, on the outskirts of Linkon. There are suspicions that the club is being used as a trading venue to sell and modify high-grade protocores into the N109 zone.

Objective: INVESTIGATE Fox’s Den FOR PROTOCORE SMUGGLERS. DO NOT ENGAGE OR ELIMINATE SUSPECTS. THIS IS AN INVESTIGATION ONLY.

As you re-read the objectives, Jenna speaks once more, “Have a look through this folder before heading to the Data Sector. ” She places her hand above the folder, “Nero and Tara are waiting there with some more information for you.”

You give her a small nod, “Yes, Captain. Will do.”

You do as you’re told and flick through the contents of the folder.

“Huh, the address is near the N109 zone?” You whisper.

Sylus has a safe house near there, I think.

It’ll be easier to complete the mission if you could crash there every now and then.

I’ll ask him when I have the chance.

There’s a few photos of the club tucked into the folder and from what you can see, it’s quite luxurious.

Entering the club shouldn’t be a problem with the brooch Sylus gave me. Hmmm. I might need to visit Jeremiah some time soon to forge another identity.

You sift through a few more pages and a photo catches your eye. It’s of a blonde woman with a hunter’s uniform and badge but stamped across the page is the word ‘TENEBRA’ in bold red lettering.

“Hmmm,” You hum as you read the sticky note attached, “If encountered, detain immediately? Who is this?”

What had she done to be labelled a Tenebra?

With that thought in mind, you think to your own situation.

Your involvement with Sylus is more than enough grounds to label you a Tenebra, but you brush that thought aside quickly.

“MC?”

Your head perks up from the sound of your name and you quickly press the folder to your chest, “Oh! Tara… Nero. I was just leaving to see you guys, actually.”

“About the case, right? Isn’t it interesting?” Tara grins, “But, yes we came here instead because Nero thinks that the Data Sector is too noisy.”

“They’re blabbing about all the time, it’s dizzying.” He retorts.

He pulls a nearby chair and motions for the two of you to come around, “Come, we’ve got work to do.”

The three of you discuss the case for a while until you ask, “Why am I being sent alone? Aren’t mission usually done in pairs?”

“Yes, well… Technically, it’s only an investigative mission, so the higher-ups don’t think we should waste resources on a mere investigation.” Nero makes quotation marks with his fingers. “You’ve got orders not to engage where possible.”

Tara leans forward to argue, “But even still, Fox’s Den is surrounded by no hunt zones! Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yes, that’s true, and speaking of which…” He opens some tabs up on his laptop, “As I’m sure you’ve seen, you’ve been approved access to all no hunt zones surrounding the area.”

You nod, looking back at your watch and also the map that spread across the table.

“But that’s not the problem.” Nero continues, “The problem is getting into the club.”

You furrow your brows, “What?” You tilt you head, “Can’t I just go in as a client?”

He clicks his tongue, “They’ve got a very specific clientele.” He says and then draws a rectangle with his fingers, “Invite only.” He emphasises. “Did you think you could just waltz into the place?Everyday?”

You tense for a moment. I thought… with the brooch...

But you can’t tell them about the brooch; They’ll ask you how you got it. So you settle with, “I- well,” you scratch your temple, “I haven’t really thought that far yet.”

...

Your meeting with the two ended just as the sun dipped completely below the horizon

Somehow, they’ve got you a position as one of the hostesses.

You huff. You don’t know a thing about being a hostess.

To be fair, being a hostess would give you the widest variety of intel.

Never had you thought you’d be going undercover like this, but the job must be done, you suppose.

You harshly tug your helmet on and head to Sylus’ safe house on your 270HM.

If he says no, then you can just scout the area on the way back home. That way, the ride there wouldn’t have been for nothing.

“Oh! There you are, little miss hunter.”

You turn around at the voice of one of the twins. “Luke, Kieran?”

“Mephisto told us you’d be here.” Kieran says pointing to the sky where Mephisto circles above the three of you.

“Is Sylus-”

Luke responds before you can finish your question, “The boss has a important business deal, but,”

“You’re more than welcome to stay with us in the meantime.” Kieran finishes the sentence as he opens the gate.

You can almost see the grin behind his mask.

“How long will he be gone?” You ask as you walk with the twins into the house.

“It might not even be until tomorrow that you’ll see the boss.”

“If you’re lucky--” Luke starts

“--I’ve checked your luck index today, miss, you’re not.”

“Kieran!” You smack him on the shoulder

“Anyway,” Luke starts again, “As I was saying, if you’re lucky, he might be done by midnight.”

…

Well now, it’s way past midnight and the boys have convinced you to play card games as you wait. From old maid, to kitty cards, to Big 2.

Eventually, they pull out another deck of cards with haphazardly drawn crows. - “We’ve invented our own version!”

Your brows furrow.

“Crow Cards!” They say in unison.

You’re speechless. You shake your head with a chuckle, but oblige them regardless.

It isn’t long before Kieran has passed out on the couch and you can tell that Luke isn’t too far either.

“Luke, why don’t we get you and your brother to sleep?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” He yawns and give you a nod, “but Kieran can sleep here on the floor.” He snorts, but goes to haul him up anyways.

“I can use one of the spare rooms, right?” You ask

“Of course. The boss has even gotten spare clothes specifically for you in every house. They should just be in the closet of the en suite.” He points to one of the doors, “That one is your room.”

It didn’t take very long after your head hit the pillows that you drifted off into a shallow sleep

Just as the sunlight begins peaking through the horizon, Sylus enters into the safehouse

Mephisto is cawing at him incessantly.

“What has you so worked up?” He frowns.

“CAW!”

Sylus walks through to the main area and sees cards strewn across the floor.

He examines them, seeing the poorly drawn crows, and looks to Mephisto, “What?” Sylus raises an eyebrow at Mephisto, “You led me here because Luke and Kieran made you look like roadkill on these cards?”

Mephisto shakes his head and pecks the cards out of Sylus’ hand. He pitter-patters to the door of the en suite and lightly pecks at it

Sylus’ frown deepens but he follows after him.

And there you were - laying on your stomach atop the sheets.

He lets out a small chuckle, “Tsk tsk, kitten,” he shakes his head, “You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

He gently turns you so he can lift you up into his arms.

With his Evol, he untucks the sheets and lays down with you in his arms.

You have your head on his chest and legs entangled with his own.

With all the movement, you lift your head blink your eyes open, “Hi.” You whisper.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, kitten.”

You plop your head back down onto his chest, “Yeah, I wanted-” you yawn, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh? You’re asking me for a favour? How unusual.”

You only hum in response and close your eyes again.

For a moment, he thinks that seeing you in the sunrise makes the sunlight a little more bearable.

“What is it that you need, sweetie?” he asks, brushing his lips against the top of your head.

“The location of my mission is near this house.”

“And?” he shoots you a smug smile, “What is it exactly that you’re asking, Dove?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m asking if I can stay here for a little while.”

He chuckles and gently swipes at the space between your brows, “Do you know what you look like right now?” he asks, “A kitten with a temper.”

You untangle yourself from his grasp, “Screw you.”

It quite futile since you end up in his arms once more.

“What mission is so important that the hunter’s association would send you into the N109 zone?” He asks.

“One,” You put your pointer finger up, “It's near the N109 zone. And two,” You lift another finger, “Apparently, there’s some shady trading of high-grade protocores.”

“Hah, when is there not?” He chuckles.

You quickly brush his question aside, “But you’ll let me stay, won’t you?” You pout for good measure.

“I never trade for a loss, dove.” He taps a finger on his temple. “What are you planning to give me in exchange?”

“Um…” You contemplate on the question. “I'll trade any protocores I find that I think may be of use to you?” Your intonation makes it sound more like a question than a statement.

“What makes you think that I don’t already have access to such protocores, sweetheart?” He shifts to lay on his side with his head propped up by his arm.

That’s true. What could you possibly offer to a man who already has everything in the palm of his hand?

You glance up at him, “Well, then… truthfully, there’s nothing I can give you.”

I guess he won’t let me stay after all.

One of the corners of his lips tilt upwards into a smirk, “There is…” he pauses as he procures a piece of paper with his Evol, “Something you can give me.”

You take the paper and frown as you read the contents, “Isn’t this that restaurant by the river? The one with the orchids?”

“Mmm.” He hums in agreement.

“What could I possibly give you there, Sylus?” You ask

He chuckles, “Well, it’s quite simple, really.” He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I want you to stay with me… Until the moon is high above our heads”

His voice is so close to your ears that you have to turn away

“I want your time.”

A few days have gone by since your…encounter with Sylus.

Now you’re face-to-face with the owner of the club.

He has his hand grabbing the lower half of your face, turning it side to side.

You grit your teeth. Keep it together for the mission, MC. You say to yourself.

“She’ll fetch a hefty price from the clients, that’s for sure.” He chuckles

He almost throws you towards a woman who has a comb and spray bottle in hand.

“Another?” She asks

“Get her ready.” He says as he begins to walk towards the bar where the guests are, “I want her ready for service by the end of the week, Stella.”

The woman, Stella, as you’ve learned, rolls her eyes and grabs you by the arm.

She drags you across to one of the clothing racks and pulls various clothes up to your body. She takes some off, and others she returns.

Your eyes wander as you stay still, and for a brief moment, you see a blonde woman in a red dress, strutting towards the exit.

“Tenebra?” You mumble

“What?” Stella raises her brow.

“Huh? Oh, I was asking If I’ll need to wear a bra.” You gulp hoping she’ll believe your cover-up

She stares at you for a moment but then continues to find you a dress.

After a while, she’s finished with your make up and has given you a run-down of the rules.

“For tonight, you’ll be staying with me.” She says as she walks towards the exit

You scramble after her. You barely catch yourself from bumping into her as she abruptly turns around to address you.

“Keep close and don’t wander. Do you understand?”

You nod, “Yes.”

She wraps a red band across your wrist with ease, “This bracelet means that you’re off limits for the mean time.” She grips your wrist and squeezes, “So I suggest you keep it on your wrist even if your life depends on it. You won’t have this luxury for long.”

What have I gotten myself into?

You spend that night observing each and every one of the hostesses and clients.

Memorising faces, names, voices. Anything.

As the week ends, you’re back at the safe house trying to piece all the information you have so far.

You’re hunched over the coffee table with papers scattered about. Some of which you’ve scrunched up and have unintentionally made into Mephisto’s playthings.

You huff.

Everything looks normal, but clearly that’s not the case if HA has sent you here. They wouldn’t have sent you here if there wasn’t some concrete evidence of a covert operation.

Sylus stops cleaning his gun and smiles as you frown. The bastard.

You huff once more and rub your temples.

“You look as if you’re going into a grand battle.” He chuckles and leans back into the sofa.

“I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere!” You throw your hands into the air.

He carefully returns the gun to it’s case and settles himself on the floor next to you, “Talk to me.” He pulls the pen from your hands and spreads the papers across the table, “We can figure it out together.” He glances at you with the smallest of smiles.

A couple of weeks have gone by and you’ve gotten better at acting as a hostess.

You find that a lot of these clients have a very loose lips - ever so willing to give information with so little incentive

Today, you’re cozied up with a client, your legs in their lap, and an arm wrapped around one of theirs.

You grin internally as he continues to talk about all the protocores he could offer you.

“Oh?” You say sultrily, drawing circles on his arm.

YUCK

“Oh, I do, baby.”

EUUUGHHH

You’re trying your best to suppress a scowl.

“I could give you all -”

You glance up at him as he stops mid-sentence.

Your gaze shifts from his face to the mirror behind him where your eyes meet Sylus’s intense gaze.

What is he going here?

Sylus nonchalantly walks over to the two of you and the room has gone still.

“And who might this be, sweetie?” He glowers at the man, but his question is directed to you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the man beat you to it, “Mr Sylus, I’m-”

"I didn’t ask you.” He says sharply.

“Sylus, what are you doing here?” Your grip around the man loosens and you quickly shift your legs to plant your heels on the floor.

“Well… Sweetie.” He emphasises the endearment as he pulls you from the other man’s lap, “I’m here for you,” He pulls you to his chest

Without another word, he tugs you into one of the private rooms.

With the momentum, you fall to the loveseat in the middle of the room.

“Sylus!”

“When you said you had a mission here, I assumed you were going in as a client.” He locks the door and makes his way to you, “Not a hostess.” He narrows his eyes as he traps you between his outstretched arms on the loveseat.

“Why does it matter?” You glare back at him, “I’m still getting the information I need.”

“You realise that I could get you all that information in the blink of an eye, right?”

You know that. You do. He never lets you forget. Head of Onychinus. King of the N109 zone.

But what does that say about you?

Always relying on someone else to do things.

Always relying on Xavier on missions. Even Rafayel helped you at The Nest. Zayne’s always taking care of your health, and now Sylus, too.

When had you ever truly done anything yourself?

You grit your teeth, “Look.” You say as you muster up all your courage to glare at him, “I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.” You push at his chest, “I can do this on my own.”

He yields as you push him until both of you are standing.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,” You say.

Tenebra - the word plants itself at the forefront of your mind

His chest heaves as he looks at you, but he doesn’t speak.

“What am I supposed to say to the association?” You walk towards the door but look back at him with a soft smile, “They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember? We can’t have that now, can we?”

He takes a hold of your wrist. “You know I’d never let that happen.”

“Mmm.” You shake your head, “I know, but even then… I want to be able to proudly say that I was able to do a mission with my own strength.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you shrug your hand away from his hold.

“So,” You place you hand on the door knob, “Let me do this on my own, Sylus.”

As you leave, he deflates onto the loveseat with a sigh.

As much as it stings that you don’t want to rely on him, he understands what you’re trying to say.

You’ve gone many days without seeing Sylus, not even at the safe house.

At the host club, you return to your dressing room with the brightest smile, you’d think your face would split in half.

That drunk client spilled all the beans. They are smuggling protocores through this host club. He mentioned a warehouse south from here, in the no hunt zone. Luckily Jenna authorised your entry into that zone. You’ll have to check it out after you leave the club.

As you exit, your watch beeps, “Huh? Wanderers? This far from the no hunt zone?”

Your hands settle at the hilts of your hands guns strapped to either thigh.

With vigilant eyes, you scan your surroundings. Trees upon trees in every direction.

Taking soft and steady steps, you head deeper into the no hunt zone.

Eventually you see lights scattered throughout the tree line.

There’s a large building stood in the centre of the clearing.

As you walk closer, you hear voices. “The warehouse.” you whisper.

Then a truck whizzes past and you duck for fear of getting caught.

It drives far into the warehouse and you follow around to get a clearer view.

They seem like specs from this distance, but they’re unloading the protocores from the truck.

The impatient part of you screams to just sneak into the warehouse.

But that fire is quickly extinguished when you notice a few men patrolling the warehouse.

“I need to come back another time. With a plan.”

The next few days you observe the schedules and their protocol for receiving deliveries

You manage to sneak your way into one of the trucks as your shift ends at the host club.

In the truck, you’re shallowly breathing from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You close your eyes to take a deep breath as the truck slows to a stop.

“This is the last one for today, boys. Let’s do this quick!” You hear a man shout.

Your hand comes up to press at your sternum. Your heart is beating right out of your chest so much so that blood is thumping in your ears.

“You think we’ve got some aether cores to sell today?”

“Tch, I wish.”

As their footsteps grow louder, you take a slow breath-

BEEP BEEP!

You gasp as your hunter’s watch detects wanderers nearby. You grasp at your wrist to dampen the noise. Hunching over, cradling your arm as it beeps again.

STOP! Please!

“What was that?”

What do I do? I’m going to get caught.

“Check it out.”

Think. Think.

From their footsteps, you can tell one of the men has walked into the truck.

THINK!

You don’t have a choice.

With a grunt, you charge at the man, shooting him in the chest, before hauling his body to cover yours as you exit the vehicle.

“INTRUDER!” the other man yells. “INTRUDER! LOCK EVERYTHING DOWN.”

Sirens blare as shots are fired in your direction. One lodges itself into your thigh. With a scream you dump the body shield and limp as best as you can out of the crossfire.

Another shot whizzes past the side of your arm. Another into your lower abdomen as you turn to shoot at them.

Before you make it to the forest, a loud roar shakes the ground and you stumble onto all fours.

A wanderer. A Hoarfrost Wyrmlord, you recognise.

It stomps it’s way towards the warehouse, likely drawn in by all the noise.

You scramble away as best as you can, but behind you are the men from the warehouse.

Your breaths have become rapid and shallow, “Where…”

The Wyrmlord locks onto you, blowing out gusts of air from it’s nostrils.

You begin shooting at the Wyrmlord but it looks unphased.

You duck for cover as it shoot icicles your way.

Protocores. You think. “You must have a shield somewhere.” you say as you peak over the metal pillar.

“You!” A foreign voice takes your attention.

The man has his gun pointed to you.

Swiftly, you kick your leg out in an attempt to disarm him, but he catches it and kicks at your other leg so that you land face first into the dirt.

For a few moments, you wrestle him until he’s got you in a choke hold.

You elbow him in his side and as his grip loosens you try to swing him over your shoulder.

But he uses the momentum to kick off of the pillar, and the action flings you backwards, and your back hits the ground with a thud.

You grunt and struggle to stand.

Before you can shoot him, a Harte Knave slashes through him.

Just as quickly, your bullets pierce though the Harte Knave and it disintegrates in dust.

Another roar shakes the ground as you and many others are pulled into a protofield.

“No!” You scream.

“Sylus!” You yell into the air.

Hoping, praying that he just might appear out of thin air.

...

“CAW!”

Meanwhile, Sylus is seated in another safehouse.

His leg is bouncing up and down.

You should have returned to the safe house hours ago, but there has been no notification of your arrival from the security system.

For every centimetre the moon rose into the sky, so did his worry.

“I appreciate the help, but I’m not some dove that needs saving.”

Your words echoed around in his mind for the past few hours.

“I can do this on my own.”

He knows that. You’re strong. He’s seen it.

“They’ll label me a Tenebra for even breathing the same air as you, remember?“

Tch.

“I can’t just rely on you for everything,”

But something was wrong.

His intuition never failed him.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Mephisto.” Sylus quickly stands and stretches his hand out for Mephisto to land on.

A holographic video pops up and Sylus sees you dropping the lifeless body and limping away into the tree line.

The screen flickers for a moment as you scream his name before you disappear into the protofield.

Even before the video ends, Sylus is rushing out to his motorcycle. He pulls up the coordinates from Mephisto’s previous location history and speeds away.

Why did I leave her by herself? Near the N109 zone nonetheless. I’m a fool.

In the protofield, the Wyrmlord is the last wanderer.

There are only a few other humans left and luckily, the Wyrmlord is beginning to stagger too.

You’ve managed to break it’s shields but you’re heavily wounded and the Wyrmlord has caused the temperature to drop so rapidly that it’s difficult to even pull the trigger.

Sylus… Please…

You know he can’t just appear into a protofield. But somehow his name on your lips gives you enough strength to continue the fight.

Out of desperation, you’ve managed to resonate with some of the Evolvers.

And with great effort, you and another Evolver deal the final blow to the Wyrmlord and you’re transported back to the warehouse.

Sirens are still blaring and the edges of your vision are fading.

“Sylus.” You whisper walking away from the warehouse.

You grunt as you slump against a sturdy tree.

The shards of ice that were lodged into your stomach have vanished along with the protofield and now your blood has begun to soak through your clothing.

With a few harsh tugs, you rip your sleeve off and press it against your wounds.

Everything hurts, but you try to slow your breathing.

Your watch beeps once more.

The adrenaline causes you to perk up at the thought of more wanderers.

WARNING! Critically low blood pressure - severe blood loss. Coordinates have been sent to the nearest Hunter’s Association field lab.

When you wake next, the room is too bright for your eyes to adjust.

You blink and raise a hand to your face to block the light.

Glancing around, you notice it’s like any other bedroom.

You groan as you sit up.

Looking down at yourself, you see the faint outline of multiple gauze pads from underneath your top.

You limp out of the room, using the wall to take most of your weight.

You flinch as you feel a tap on your shoulder, hands immediately going to where your guns would have been.

“Relax, Kitten.” Sylus says, with both his hands up in the air, “I’m just trying to help you.” He begins to lower his hands.

“Sylus…” You croak from the dryness of your throat.

You could do nothing but stare. Was this real?

You were hyperventilating a little, and he’s never really seen you so high-strung.

“You’re safe.” He says as he slowly cups the side of your face.

“Sylus… I…”

He lowers his forehead to yours and you visibly relax.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart.” He repeats the phrase as he gathers you into his chest.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He whispers. “Never again.”

I told you it was long XD. I had fun though. If you guys like it, I don't mind fully fleshing this out into chapters. I really enjoyed writing this one actually.

-Seven

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