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mephisto-reporting · 3 months ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst. [ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

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The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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loveanddeepthroat · 6 months ago

Text

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts.

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself.

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly.

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence.

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.”

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?”

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

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reilemon · 1 month ago

Text

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything. He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #sylus x you #sylus l&ds #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic

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h4venpha · 1 month ago

Text

⸺ tailored perfectly (18+)

✦ sylus x reader contents: slight nsfw, sfw(ish)worship, implied sex, literally just sylus loving on u wc: 442 notes: sorry i think i have. a thing for mirrors ? and also i wanted to write sylus eyefucking you because GOD that man can EYEFUCK. also im going to be on vacation for the next week so i (probably) wont be writing during that time! sorry for such short works, i rlly want to write longer things but i just have no good ideas </3 anyway enjoy!

“what do you think?”

the fabric of the dress hugging your body is smooth and almost silky. you watch through the body length mirror at how the dress hugs your torso and hips before falling elegantly to brush against your ankles. sylus picked the dress out of course, he even had it perfectly tailored to your measurements. you told him it was unnecessary, but he never missed any opportunity to spoil you.

the door from the bathroom swings open, sylus emerges as he buttons up his light grey dress shirt with one hand, a black tie in his other. from through the mirror, you watch as he walks over, his low eyes trailing from your exposed shoulders to the small sliver of ankle in between the dress and your heels. he tosses the black tie over his shoulder, too distracted to even finish buttoning up his dress shirt before his hands slide firmly around your hips.

“i love it.” sylus rasps as his hands drag up to your waist, voice recognizably breathier than his normal register. you watch as his dilating pupils at in every inch of your body.

“the tailor made the dress perfect, hm?” you humor, watching for his reactions knowing many, many thoughts were going through his head right now. it’s easy to tell with the way his eyes drink you up like eye candy. he makes you feel exposed, like prey in the eyes of a ravenous predator.

“you’re perfect.” sylus’s voice rumbles in your ear before he presses a kiss to your exposed shoulder. his lips trail a line up your shoulder to your nape, lips slow and hungry as he worships your skin. although his kisses were soft, there was a distinct level of restraint he was exerting.

“w-we need to go.” you interject quietly, your sweet voice rolling in the needy fog in his head.

5 minutes before they need to leave for the auction.

“i’m aware.” sylus’s jaw clenches. “luke and kieran can wait a little longer in the car, yes?” he pulls you back by the hips just enough for you to feel the hardening bulge in his dark slacks against the curve of your ass.

“you won’t get that pretty gem you’ve been talking about all weekend.” you look back as you tease him halfheartedly, knowing even if they showed up an hour late to the auction, he would outbid them all in a blink.

sylus scoffs at your taunts, unfazed. “there’s a prettier gem right here.” he pulls you away from the mirror, spinning you around before pinning you firmly against the softness of the bed. “and she’s already all mine.”

#h4venpha #sylus #love and deepspace #sylus lads #lads #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus fanfic #✮₊ H4VENPHA COLLECTION #⟢ love and deepspace works

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littlest-w01f · 2 months ago

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Treasure

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: You're his favourite treasure, he cherishes you above all else.

Cw: Dragon!Sylus, choking, Sylus being rough but also loving, dragons have 2 ds, size difference, double penetration, Smut 18+ MDNI, Fluffy end

A/N: Parasite won, Enjoy y'all <3

Sylus loomed over your form, his massive draconic body pinning your frame against the glittering mounds of gold coins he had collected over centuries. The metal was cold against your flushed skin as you lay splayed out beneath him, knees and palms digging in the gold, helpless and at his mercy. His long, sinuous tail coiled around your slender throat, not tight enough to choke but a clear reminder of who was in control.

Sylus leaned down, his hot breath washing over your face as he inhaled your scent. A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, vibrating through your body pressed so intimately against his. "Mmmm, I'm going to claim every inch of you, little treasure," He purred, voice dripping with dark promise. "I'll fill you up until you're overflowing with my essence. Then I'll keep you by my side forever."

You giggled at his words, the sting of gold beneath you not bothering you one bit, "Promise?" You smiled from ear to ear.

Sylus chuckled darkly, amused by your playful tone despite the precarious position you found yourself in. His forked tongue flicked out, tracing along the shell of your ear as he whispered huskily, "Oh yes, my sweet little kitten. And I always keep my promises... Especially when it comes to claiming what's mine."

His massive clawed hands began to roam your curves possessively, mapping out every dip and swell of your body. One hand cupped your breast, kneading the soft skin as his thumb brushed teasingly over your nipple through the thin fabric of your gown. The other slid down your stomach, coming to rest on your hip as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the growing heat of his arousal.

"I'm going to worship this body of yours," Sylus rumbled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Sylus continued his sensual assault, his claws carefully shredding away the flimsy fabric of your gown until you were bare before him, laid out like an offering amidst the glittering hoard. He drank in the sight of your naked form, his crimson eyes burning with unbridled lust and possession.

"Exquisite," He purred, his long serpentine tongue unfurling to lap at the sensitive skin of your neck, tasting your quickening pulse. "Every curve, every hollow... I'm going to savor every inch of you."

Sylus' massive form loomed over your exposed body, his scales glinting in the dim light filtering into the dragon's lair. The heat radiating off his powerful frame enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cool coins beneath your back. His clawed fingers traced intricate patterns on your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they mapped the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips.

Leaning down, Sylus' long, dexterous tongue snaked out to taste the salt on your skin. It dragged slowly up the column of your throat, pausing to flick against your racing pulse point, to your back, over your spine. A deep, rumbling purr vibrated through his chest and into your body pinned beneath him.

"My precious treasure," He growled softly, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. He used his tail to tip your head back, forcing your back to arch with his claws at the base of your spine.

Your wanton moans only spurred on Sylus' desire. His long, forked tongue delved between your parted lips, invading your mouth and tangling with your own tongue in a heated dance. The musky taste of the dragon filled your senses as he plundered your mouth thoroughly, staking his claim.

As Sylus' tongue dominated your mouth, his free hand drifted lower, fingers brushing against the slick folds of your cunt. A guttural groan rumbled in his chest at the evidence of your arousal, how wet you already were for him.

Breaking the kiss, Sylus gazed down at you with smouldering crimson eyes, his pupils dilated with primal hunger. "So eager, little treasure," He purred, voice thick with lust. "But we've barely begun." Sylus' voice was thick with approval and lust. "Your body knows who it belongs to. Who it craves."

"You..." You moaned loudly, the sound vibrating in the cave, "Sy-"

Sylus growled in satisfaction at your needy moan, the sound of your pleasure music to his ears. His clawed finger circled your clit teasingly, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm beneath him. "That's right, say my name," He commanded huskily, nipping at your earlobe. "Let all of my realm know who is claiming you, who is making you feel this good."

The dragon's other hand continued its exploration of your curves, palming your breast roughly. He pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. Sylus's muscular tail tightened slightly around your throat again, not cutting off air but asserting his dominance, his control over your pleasure. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, with all of me."

Sylus's massive, ridged cocks sprang free from its sheath, the flared heads already weeping with precum. They throbbed heavily, the thick lengths pulsing with barely contained need as he positioned himself at your entrance. The heat radiating off his cocks was intense, one feverish against your slick cunt, the other tracing against your ass.

"Beg for it, for me," Sylus demanded, his voice a low, authoritative growl. The tip of his cocks nudged insistently at your openings, already stretched from how many times he had taken you, body still sensitive, not quite pushing inside yet. His clawed hands gripped your hips bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he loomed over you. "Tell me how badly you need to be claimed, to be filled by your dragon master. Let me hear those pretty pleas falling from your lips." The dragon's eyes blazed with feral hunger as he stared down at you, pupils dilated with lust.

Your mind reeled under the onslaught of sensations, overwhelmed by just the memory of the sheer size and heat of Sylus' body pressing against you. The rough grip on your hips, the insistent prodding at your entrances, the commanding growl in his voice, all combined to push you closer to the edge.

"Please- Oh please, Sylus!" You begged shamelessly, your eyes glazed over with desperate need as you stared at his magnificent dual, scaly cocks jutting out proudly from his sheath. "I need them so badly, I need you."

Your hips bucked up instinctively, trying to impale yourself on his impressive cocks, but Sylus' grip held you firmly in place. The drag of his cockheads against your soaked folds sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core. A smirk on his beautiful face as he watched you struggle and beg.

The dragon's triumphant roar echoed off the cavern walls as he surged forward, burying both thick, veiny cocks deep within your welcoming heat. Your cunt clenched tightly around the girth stretching it, while your ass squeezed in protest at the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck... Please! Claim me, ruin me for anyone else! I'm yours, all yours!" Your whines echoed wantonly through the cavern, bouncing off the glittering piles of gold surrounding your entwined forms as Sylus began to move, his cocks stuffing you so fully, tears sprang in your eyes, filled to the brim you could feel his cocks rub against each other by the skin that separated them.

"Aaahh, yes! Take it all, my perfect little treasure," Sylus snarled in ecstasy, relishing the vice-like grip of your walls around his cocks. He set a brutal pace immediately, pounding into you with the strength and endurance of a dragon. Each snap of his hips drove his cocks impossibly deeper, stirring up your insides and hitting places you never knew existed.

Sylus' massive form engulfed you as he leaned down, his wings wrapping around your entwined bodies like a leathery cocoon. His long, sinuous tongue invaded your mouth once more, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he kissed you deeply, passionately. The dragon's claws raked down your sides, leaving faint red lines in their wake as he gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked scales.

Your entire world narrowed to the searing pleasure of being utterly consumed by Sylus' dual cocks. Every thrust, every drag of his cocks along your inner walls, sent sparks of electric bliss coursing through your veins. Your body clamped down greedily, milking him as if trying to draw out every last drop of his essence.

The sensation of his cocks rubbing together, separating your skin, was almost too much to bear. It added a new dimension of depraved delight to the brutal fucking, each collision of scaled flesh against tender tissue sending aftershocks rippling through your quivering form.

Sylus' powerful body moved above you with a fluid grace, despite his size, his muscles flexing and rippling beneath his scales. His wings wrapped protectively around you, shielding you from the rest of the world as he claimed you in the most primal way possible.

Breaking the kiss, Sylus nipped and sucked at your neck, determined to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to see the evidence of his claim, the proof of your belonging to him alone. His hips never faltered in their relentless rhythm, each powerful thrust shaking your entire body and driving you closer to the edge. "That's it, my little treasure."

Sylus' thrusts grew even more frenzied, his massive cocks pistoning in and out of you with animalistic abandon. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the cavern, mingling with your wanton moans and the dragon's guttural growls of pleasure.

His barbed ridges caught on your inner walls with each withdrawal, dragging deliciously against your sensitive nerves and prolonging your rapidly building climax. One clawed hand snaked between your writhing bodies to find your aching clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles.

"That's it, cum for me," Sylus commanded, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Cum on me like the desperate little kitten you are. Show me how much you love being claimed, being used for my pleasure!"

Your body obeyed Sylus' command without hesitation, the coil of tension in your core snapping violently. A guttural scream tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy flooding your system. Your walls clamped down rhythmically on Sylus' pistoning cocks, rippling and fluttering as they tried to milk him for all he was worth.

As your release washed over you, Sylus roared in triumph, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. Your spasming walls felt incredible around his throbbing shafts, gripping him like a velvet vise. He continued to pound into you throughout your climax, extending your pleasure until you were nothing but a boneless, mewling mess beneath him.

With a final, brutal thrust, Sylus buried himself to the hilt inside your convulsing heat. His cocks pulsed and twitched as he reached his own peak, flooding your body with jets of scalding cum. The sheer volume of which was staggering.

Panting harshly, Sylus collapsed onto his side, still keeping you pinned beneath him. He peppered your face with gentle kisses, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness.

"Hmm…" You sighed softly as Sylus released every little drop of himself inside you, his scaly tail stroking your side. You bring him closer by his cheeks, into a deep kiss.

Sylus returned your kiss with fervour, his long-forked tongue twining sensually with yours. He poured all of his passion, his possession, into the intimate embrace. When he finally pulled back, his crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction and tender affection.

"My perfect little mate," He rumbled softly, nuzzling into your neck. "You took me so well, so eagerly. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be mine."

The dragon's clawed hands began to explore your curves with reverent gentleness now, tracing the dips and swells of your body as if committing every inch to memory. His touch left tingles of pleasure in its wake, stoking the embers of desire that still smouldered within you despite your recent release.

After hours, he had rested you down in his bed, his precious treasure, the most precious thing he had ever taken. A part of him wanted to keep you locked away forever like the rest of his hoard, but you were too endearing for him to deny freedom. Such a fragile creature, yet strong enough to captivate a dragon's heart.

Sylus gazed down at your sleeping form, a rare softness in his ancient crimson eyes. The way the moonlight streaming through the cavern windows caressed your skin made you look ethereally beautiful, nothing less than a goddess. He couldn't resist trailing a single talon lightly along the curve of your cheek, marvelling at the silken smoothness.

At that moment, the dragon realized that no amount of gold or jewels could ever compare to the priceless treasure you represented. Not just the physical pleasure and companionship, but the warmth, the joy, the sense of connection he felt when he was with you, things he had been missing for centuries. A small, possessive growl rumbled in his chest as he gathered you closer, one wing draping protectively over your body.

Sylus remained awake long after you drifted off, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks in sleep. He marvelled at the trust you placed in him, the way you curled into his embrace so naturally as if you belonged there.

As dawn approached, the first rays of sunlight filtering into the cavern bathed your skin in a warm, golden glow. It seemed to highlight the delicate beauty of your features, the soft swell of your breasts rising with each breath. Sylus felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest, a tenderness that went beyond mere lust or possessiveness.

Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He savoured the taste of you, the feel of your soft lips moving against his.

Your eyes fluttered open at the kiss, "Is it morning already?" You whispered groggily.

Sylus chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest and sending pleasant shivers across your bare skin. "Almost," He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I didn't mean to disturb you. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful sleeping."

He tilted your chin up slightly, studying your drowsy expression with a mix of adoration and hunger. "I've grown accustomed to having you close, my sweet mate. The thought of waking up without you beside me... It doesn't sit well with me."

Slowly, deliberately, Sylus leaned in to capture your lips once more, this time with a depth of emotion that bordered on reverence. He poured all of his longing, his devotion, into the kiss, hoping to convey the magnitude of what you'd awakened in him.

Sylus broke the kiss only to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping gently at the tender skin. "Tell me you want to stay with me," He breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending delightful shivers down your spine. "Tell me you're already addicted to the feeling of my cock inside you, to the sound of my roar as I claim you."

His words were punctuated by teasing bites and licks, working their way down your neck to your collarbone. "Because I certainly am addicted to you, my precious treasure. Every curve, every scent, every moan that falls from your lips has me ensnared."

"Sylus..." You breathed softly, hand stroking down his cheek, the dragon scale that mixed with human-like skin. You pressed your palm flat against the glowing red gem that made up the centre of his chest, "I love you. And yes. I feel it. Everything."

At your declaration, Sylus' eyes widened, his pupils dilating with surprise and overwhelming emotion. For a moment, he simply stared at you, his breath catching in his throat. Then, with a low, rumbling growl, he claimed your mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss.

When he finally broke away, his gaze was intense, burning with a depth of feeling you'd never seen before. "My love, my heart, my everything," He rasped, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never dreamed I could feel this way about another being. But from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. Unique. Irreplaceable."

Sylus cupped your face in his massive hands, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheeks. "I love you, my y/n. With every fiber of my being, I adore you. And there is no love is purer than mine."

Emotions overwhelmed the dragon, causing him to crush you against his broad chest. His arms enveloped you like a living shield, securing you safely against his warmth. "I'm yours, completely," He vowed, his voice trembling with the force of his feelings. "Body, heart, soul. All of me belongs to you, now and forever."

As if to seal his promise, Sylus sealed his lips to yours once more. This time, the kiss was tender, almost chaste, yet still imbued with the depth of his love. He held you close, savoring the closeness, the unity, the perfect harmony of two souls entwined as one.

And in that moment, neither of you noticed nor cared for the first hints of daylight creeping further into the cavern, casting the space in a warm glow, the sound of the songbirds something distant.

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harmonyrae · 1 month ago

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Crimson Intimacy

Synopsis: Ovulation week is intense, but shark week is... something else entirely. When Sylus finds out, he is more than happy to help alleviate those symptoms.

Content Warnings: Mention of menstrual cycle, feminine products, blood/bleeding, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, angst, before & after care, PiV, cream pie, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.8k

You toss the blanket away, the heat overwhelming. You turn to your side, clutching your stomach. Your cramps have been worse this month and the hot flashes were getting on your last nerve.

You feel your thighs glide against each other, you assume the sweat has built up and you’ll have to take another shower to cool off. You huff a breath, blowing a stand of hair away from your nose - there’s no shot you’re risking a sneeze right now. You hear the door creak open and you squint your eyes against the stream of light pouring in. The light frames his form in the doorway, his silver hair damn near glowing.

“Still sleeping, sweetie?”

His voice was so gentle, you wanted to cry. Of course you wanted to cry, everything made you want to fucking cry. God, you hated this. It was your first weekend in two months you had completely off and you were so excited to spend time with Sylus. But here you are, curled up in a ball in his bed, downing pain meds every few hours and biting your tongue to avoid snapping at your patient boyfriend.

“Not anymore… I’m sweating again…”

Sylus pushes the door open wider before making his way to you, letting the hall light guide his way. He switches on the bedside lamp and leans down to place a kiss to your damp forehead. His eyes trail down your body and stop at your waist. His eyes widen, his calm expression returns just a moment later, but you’d already seen the momentary change. You glance down and your heart drops.

The bedding beneath your hips was stained with blood along with your satin sleep shorts. The comforter was also spotted with blood and damp with sweat. Tears stream down your face and you can’t suppress a sob. You were already boiling, but now your cheeks felt positively molten.

Sylus lifted a hand to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumb.

“No, stop. Don’t cry.”

“But yo-your mattress and th-the sh-sheets… I’m so-sorry…” You manage to stutter through your sobs.

“It’s not an issue. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

He gathers the comforter and tosses it to the floor. He swiftly untucks the bedding and wraps it around your waist before gently placing a hand to your lower back, trying to help you shift off the bed. You squirm against his touch, your skin slick with sweat and, most likely, blood. He doesn’t pull back, helping you to the edge of the bed. You stand and turn and look back at the mattress, but Sylus circles behind you blocking your view. He guides you to the bathroom and closes the door. He leans you against the counter and prepares the shower.

He doesn’t run the water for too long, knowing the steam will only make you warmer. He places a lavender aromatherapy shower tablet on the floor of the shower, the scent already filling the room and making your shoulders relax. He turns to you slowly and starts to peel away the sheet.

“I can do it, you’ve done too much already.”

“Kitten…”

His warning tone shuts you up immediately. You know he isn’t going to leave you alone. He folds the sheet and places it on the counter before kneeling to help you step out of your sleep shorts.

“I should probably use the…” You don’t look up at him, you don’t want to explain that you were wearing a tampon and an emergency pad that you bled through. You couldn’t believe this was even happening, this hasn’t happened in so long and never at someone else’s house.

“Okay, come on then.”

He leads you over to the toilet and you finally look up at him with a grimace. He looks at you and smiles sweetly - damn him for being so nice about this. You want him to be upset or disgusted. His gentle demeanor was making your other symptoms worse…

Defeated, you sigh and wiggle your way out of your bloody underwear. Your emergency pad was soaked and you cleared your throat as you striped it off and folded it. You hover over the toilet and carefully tug your tampon free before sitting. Sylus brings the trash can to you and you toss your products away.

He goes to the sink and wets a washcloth, returning to clean your hands and wipe some blood off of your legs while you sit. A cramp pinches your side and you double over, groaning quietly. Sylus rubs your back and continues to clean your legs.

When you’re finished, he helps you stand up and moves to lift your satin sleep tank. You grab his wrists suddenly, eyes widening as you look up at him. Your chest tightens and you grit your teeth. He needs to leave and let you deal with this, you will only embarrass yourself further.

“This isn’t the first shower we’ve shared, sweetie. Let me help you.”

You don’t loosen your grip and Sylus leans down slightly to try to meet your gaze. However, you’ve found a very interesting spot on the floor and don’t intend to stop staring at it.

“I know, I just… I’ve got this. Go.”

Sylus pulls a hand out of your grip and lifts your chin. He puts more force behind his movements sensing your reluctance to work with him. Your eyes flare with defiance and he watches you pout for a moment before leaning closer.

“Why are you pushing me away?”

You let out a frustrated breath, you didn’t want him to think you were pushing him away, but the alternative… You felt your cheeks heat once again as you felt a familiar throb between your legs. You quickly pull your bottom lip between your teeth and pinch your brows together trying to look angry rather than unbelievably horny.

Sylus tilted his head, analyzing your response. His brows lifted before knitting together in a subtle confusion. He let his fingers drift from your chin down to your collarbone, goosebumps rising beneath his touch, shivering slightly.

“I’m not, I just want to take my shower in peace.”

His fingers don’t stop at your shoulder, he trails them down your arm before placing his hand on your hip. You squeeze your thighs together, the throb getting stronger and harder to ignore. You lift your eyes to meet his eyes once more and notice he is staring at your thighs. Oh great, he noticed. You try to back away, but he grips your hips with both hands and pulls you closer.

“When were you going to tell me cramps aren’t the only troublesome symptom you deal with?”

You shake your head, frowning at him.

“I just don’t want to bleed all over your bathroom, I’ve already ruined your mattress and sheets and –”

Sylus cradles your head as he leans down to capture your lips with his. His soft lips slide against yours as his tongue presses to urge your lips apart. You gasp as you open your mouth and his tongue slips inside. His tongue dances with your own, pulling a needy moan from you. He pulls back, his smug smile would usually irritate you, but tonight…

“Sylus, please don’t tease me…”

Sylus tugs at the bottom of your satin top and pulls up slowly. With your willpower dwindling, you don’t stop him. He pulls it over your head and drops it to the floor before tugging his shirt off. He pushes his sweatpants over his hips while he backs you closer to the shower door. Your chest heaves as you take in his naked body.

“First we get you cleaned up, then I’ll take care of you.”

“Sylus! I –” You gasp.

“You what, kitten?”

You place your hands against his stomach, your eyes seemingly unable to stop staring down at his cock. Your chin trembles, he reaches around you to open the shower door. You feel a cool mist coat your back and the lavender overwhelms your senses.

“It isn’t – I’m – I’m bleeding and it’s –”

“You think I’m afraid of a little blood, is that it, kitten?”

“Well obviously it isn’t just 'a little blood’ now is it?”

You couldn’t hide your frustration any longer. He was acting like it wasn’t a big deal and the mess didn’t bother him. You had just bled all over his bed and he knew how embarrassed you were, why was he being so annoying?

“You bleed every month. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. There’s usually not much I can do to help you through this time, but this… This I can help you with.”

You open your mouth to protest, his hands circle your shoulders and he backs you into the shower completely. As the warm water rushes over your skin, you close your eyes and tilt your head back. Sylus runs his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. You meet his eyes again, seeing them glow in the dim light. You knew he was hungry, that he wanted this too.

You look to the floor and see the water run pink. The dried blood slowly rinsing away from your skin. Sylus lathers soap onto his hand and kneels before you, washing your legs and thighs until the water runs clear. You rested your hands against your stomach, feeling bloated and self-conscious again. Sylus recognized that look, he moves your hands away and places kisses across your stomach and hips. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning against the shower wall and sighing. His hands caressing the backs of your thighs.

“Sy…”

He stands, turning you around so you lean against his chest, your hands braced against the shower wall. He works the soap over your shoulders and arms before moving to your stomach. He makes his way up your torso until he cups your breasts, his thumbs lightly flicking over your extra sensitive nipples. You moan as he pulls you under the water to rinse before lathering the soap across his own body. You turn back around and run your hands over his chest and arms, the water running down your hands to rinse the soap away. Sylus hums as he feels your hands roam and settle low on his hips. He dips his mouth to your neck as he turns off the water. Your back arching off the tile wall, pressing your chest against him.

“I’ll make a mess…” You whisper.

He grabs a towel and places kisses along your shoulder while he dries you.

“I don’t care if I have to buy a whole new bed, you’re not going to sleep tonight frustrated or embarrassed, do you understand me?”

He scoops you up and carries you to the bed bridal style. He sets you down and walks over to a cabinet across from the bed. He takes out a thick blanket and spreads it out on the mattress. You blush and glance down at your naked body. You hated the idea of ruining his things, even though you knew you couldn’t control it. Sylus immediately caught onto your concern.

“It’s a special blanket I got a few days ago. The tag said it was ‘the most reliable waterproof intimacy blanket on the market.’ I guess we will put it to the test, won’t we?”

Your eyes widen as you glance between the blanket and Sylus. He bought a sex blanket?

He presses you back onto the bed, you crawl on your elbows backward, squeezing your thighs already worrying about leaking. Sylus leans down over you, one hand settling by your shoulder while the other rests on your knee.

“I want you to relax. Let your body respond how it needs to.”

Tears pool in your eyes, no one had ever been willing to do this when you were on your period. And he was being so gentle and sweet, wanting you to enjoy yourself without worry. Your clit throbbed, aching for friction. You hated how horny you’d get during your period. Everyone talked about ovulation hormones, but no one talked about period hormones having a similar effect. The simplest thing could make you moan and tremble.

You lowered yourself to the bed, letting your back settle into the silky blanket. Sylus crawled on top of you before pulling your leg open. You let your hip relax as he looked down and trailed his fingers down your inner thigh. You close your eyes and hold your breath, still worried he would change his mind once he felt your blood on his hand.

“Breathe, my love…” His warm breath tickles your ear, his voice low and husky. His fingers finally touch you where you need him most.

His fingers circle your clit, already swollen from being frustrated for the majority of the day. He pinches lightly, your hips lifting off the bed in response. Every part of your body was more sensitive and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, loudly. You feel one of his fingers circle your entrance and you tense, he lowers himself to his elbow and dips his head to take your swollen nipple in his mouth. A delicious burst of pleasure spirals through your chest. He licks, sucks and nibbles as he works his finger around your entrance.

You could feel how slick you were and while you knew it was partially your arousal, you knew you were bleeding. But every time Sylus felt your body tense, he would shift his mouth. He took your other nipple between his teeth and circled his tongue over its peak. The tension melts away as you arch your back off the bed to push your breast further into his eager mouth.

Your hips were stretching wider and wider as Sylus worked you, his fingers dipping inside of you finally. He stroked your sensitive walls slowly, feeling your body writhe and your fingernails dig into his shoulders.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, his purposeful touch makes your head swim. You start grinding against his hand. He places his hand flush against you and rubs his palm against your clit. You lift your head to look down, expecting to see his hand covered in your blood, but his lips meet yours and your head tilts back onto the mattress.

“Do you want more?” He mumbles into your mouth.

“God yes… please…”

Your thrusts match your whine as you dig your heels into the bed to push his fingers further inside of you. Your mind is fighting with your hormones, you want to be worried, but it feels so good you can’t focus long enough to visualize the mess you’re making.

You whimper as he removes his fingers, he doesn’t let you lift your head, his kiss holding your attention. When you feel the tip of his cock slide along your folds you shake and gasp, your eyes flying open. He presses his forehead against yours, keeping you still.

“Sy, I need…”

He slowly presses his cock into your entrance, your body tensing.

“What do you need, angel?”

You can’t speak, your body shakes as he pauses, letting your body relax and stretch for him. You reach your hands up to his hair, still damp from the shower and grab a fistful. You yank his head back and he groans.

“I need you I need y-ou I need you I need ughh fuck…”

You ramble until he pushes into you in one thrust and bottoms out. You cry out feeling him hit your g-spot immediately. Your chest heaves as your walls pulse, damn near vibrating with pleasure. He tucks a hand under your arm sliding up to your neck and lifts you to where you’ve trapped him by pulling his hair.

“Do you want me to be gentle or rough, angel? Speak to me.”

You place kisses over his cheeks, his nose, over his eyelids. Your hands loosen and you let his hair go, locking your arms around his neck and your chest against his.

“Sy… ahh mhm…”

You can tell your body wouldn’t mind if he fucked you so hard you splattered the walls and couldn’t walk tomorrow. But hearing him call you angel, his voice gentle and his attention being solely on you and making sure you don’t get distracted by… wait, what embarrassed you earlier? You just wanted him close to you, touching you, holding you, whispering to you.

Sylus moans and pulls out to slowly push back inside of you. There’s no resistance, he slides in and out with ease, but he keeps his movements slow so you feel everything. In a stark contrast to his cock, his mouth races across your chest. He captures a nipple and suckles before nipping at your collarbone or fully biting at the fullness of your chest.

Your hips press into the mattress and you work to keep your legs open. You want to wrap your legs around him and thrust, but he’s fucking you so perfectly and you don’t want to ruin it. Yes, you want to flip him over and ride him so hard until he has tears in his eyes. You want to deny his orgasm until he is begging for it and his fingers are digging into your hips leaving instant bruises. You want to get on all fours and tell him to fuck you from behind, wrapping your hair around one of his hands while he chokes you lightly with the other.

“You want me to be rough, don’t you?”

Your eyes fly open and you stare at him. He traces your forehead with his nose, his breath tickling your lashes.

“Your tense, restless. Tell me what you fucking need.”

You bite your lip and moan breathlessly as he rams into you harder and harder.

“Fuck m– ugh… fuck me fuck me until– until I scream…”

Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He drops you onto the mattress and plants both hands by your head. His knees push your thighs upward. He rises to his knees, his cock still buried inside you. He reaches down and pulls your legs up, holding your legs flush against your chest. His hand wrapping around your thighs, his grip tightening as he pulls out only to ram back into you harder and harder.

“Moan for me, whimper and moan until you can’t stand it and then when you’re about to come, scream. Scream my fucking name. I want to hear you when you come all over my cock, angel.”

He doesn’t talk to you like this in bed normally. But your neediness is different. It’s not desperate, it’s commanding. Maybe it’s the hormones? It doesn’t matter, he is matching your energy and giving you exactly what you need and nothing less. The aggression is mutual and it’s making you feral.

His pace is rapid and you can’t close your eyes. Your gaze locks onto Sylus, his cheeks red, sweat trickling down his forehead, his eyes half-closed, his mouth slightly open as he gasps. Your moans and whimpers turn into grunts and gasps, your body wriggling to get away from the intensity building at your core.

Finally you scream, you scream so loudly you know Sylus’ neighbors would probably think he is killing someone... again. Sylus doesn’t slow down, he releases your legs and leans down to grip your hip. You come hard, your orgasm intense and overwhelming. You scream his name over and over and then you feel his movements stutter. His hips snap forward and he groans your name just as loudly. You feel the heat of his release spreading and leaking out of you already. He forces himself to continue to move his hips, working you both through the high.

You lift your arms over your head and grip the edge of the mattress above you. You’re almost tempted to pull yourself away from him as you near the point of over-stimulation. Your swollen clit and tender pussy ache from the exertion. It’s a welcome ache, but you can’t handle much more.

Sylus pulls out and nearly collapses on top of you, letting out a sigh before nuzzling into your neck. You press a sideways kiss to his temple as you rub his back slowly.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m perfect.”

He lifts his head and looks at you. He smiles and shifts his hips, this is when you feel how slick your bodies are against each other. Your stomach tightens. You try to lift your head to look, but Sylus stops you. He hovers over you and looks at you with a stern expression.

“You’re going to close your eyes and I’m going to carry you to the bathroom for another shower, okay? I’ll take care of everything once you’re settled in the living room.”

“The living room? Oh god, I ruin –”

Sylus reaches down to cup your pussy, the sudden touch making you jump and whimper.

“What did I say, kitten?”

“I – you…”

He circles your sore clit with the pad of his finger, pressing harder than he needs to. You pull your hips backwards into the mattress, groaning.

“Okay, okay! I didn’t ruin anything.”

“We are going to the living room to watch a movie with dinner. The bed is fine.”

You sigh as he kneels over you. You stare at the ceiling trying to stifle the temptation to look. You finally close your eyes and feel Sylus pick you up, once again carrying you bridal style to the bathroom.

“And don’t even think about peaking over my shoulder.”

You giggle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your eyes closed. You hear the bathroom door close but you keep your eyes closed reveling in the tender moment. Sylus walks right into the shower and turns it on, letting the water warm as it spills over your skin. He holds you for a while, twisting from side to side to let the water rinse over your skin. He puts you down and takes care of you, washing your hair and using your favorite soap.

The rest of the night you are at ease, satisfied and sore. Sylus holds you in his lap after dinner, holding a heating pad to your lower stomach and feeding you chocolate covered strawberries. You lean your head back against his chest and fall asleep. When you wake up the next morning you are in Sylus’ bed with no blood stains in sight. Sylus walks in the bedroom with two cups of coffee and sits down next to you. You smile and sit up to wrap your arms around him.

“What’s this for?” He whispers into your hair, wrapping an arm around you to hug you back.

“I just… Last night… Thank you.”

“Of course, my love. Now that I know your symptoms, I can better take care of you.”

He leans back and winks at you. You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile.

“You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

Sylus chuckles before pulling you into a gentle kiss. You’ve never felt so safe. The embarrassment you felt, a distant memory. Sylus never judged and he loved you no matter how messy you might become. Yeah, he can be insufferable if he wants to. After last night, he’s earned it.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora

#love and deepspace #sylus (love and deepspace)#lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #angst and fluff #sylus smut #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus fanfiction #sylus fanfic #period cramps #period sex #after care

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peanutpinet · 5 months ago

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Soft for You - Sylus x Fem Reader

Prompt: “Let me kiss it better”

A/N: yes, I’ve fallen into this rabbit hole and all because of Sylus. There’s just something about white haired men with red eyes that’s 190cm. Hates everyone but you T^T I’m such a sucker for these characters and it doesn’t help that I’m on my period so I decided to make a lil one shot of how Sylus would react if you’re on your period and wanting to cuddle but he was in an important meeting

Warning: None, just fluff (not proofread, sorry, was so into writing this)

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

“Miss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb the boss right now” Luke mentioned, trying to stop you from walking further down the hall

“Yeah, he’s in a meeting right now. And the meeting, well, it’s not really going that well” Kieran added on. “Some of the low workers were trying to steal his weapons and sell them off to a higher bidding at Linkon because we heard that Linkon is currently trying to find ways to get more intel regarding the boss”

You knew that Linkon was constantly trying to uncover the mysterious Onychinus’ leader. Though they knew his name, they couldn’t find anything regarding what he looked like or any other information about him. That’s why Linkon is willing to pay a hefty amount to those who have been associated with him to gather any sort of intel. But you could care less about what political issue was going on between Linkon and Onychinus. What you cared about was that you were in pain because of your period and you wanted to cuddle with Sylus because somehow, he always helped ease your pain.

Not caring about the twins’ warning, you managed to drag yourself all the way in front of Sylus’ meeting room where you could clearly hear his deep voice echoing along with several other voices. It sounded like the meeting had just begun and you suddenly contemplated on going in and disturbing Sylus just to tend to your pain.

However, on the other side of the door, Sylus already knew that you were in front of the door along with Luke and Kieran since he could see through Mephisto’s eyes with his aether core. Though Sylus wouldn’t mind you coming in, he wanted you to come to him first instead of jumping to conclusion that you were actually looking for him.

He learnt that from past incidents where you were actually looking for Luke and Kieran but Sylus jumped into conclusions and thought you were looking for him.

Right as Sylus was about to start the meeting, he could hear both Luke and Kieran’s frantic voices calling out to you. Without uttering a word, Sylus got up but not before making sure the men in the room stay put in their designated chairs. “None of you get up from the chair or I’ll rip your legs apart from your whole body”

After his calm threat, Sylus went to the door and opened it to find you on the ground with both Luke and Kieran holding onto you. When the twins looked up at their boss, the colour from their faces were slowly drained. “B-boss” the twins managed to utter out as Sylus looked at your weak state, basically trying to hold yourself up with the help of the twins.

Without saying anything, Sylus crouched down and lifted you up in his arms and practically carried you into the meeting room where all the other men in the room were staring.

“U-uh boss? We can bring her back to her room and…” the twins didn’t get to finish their sentences as Sylus used his evol to close and lock the door

To say the men in the room were shock was an understatement because who would have thought that the Onychinus leader could be so gentle towards anyone yet here he was sitting in his chair, further away from the others with you on his lap.

“S-sylus?” you uttered, looking up to see your boyfriend looking at you with soft eyes

“You alright, sweetie? I heard you from in here. You looked like you were going to pass out in the twins’ arms. What happened, sweetie? Did someone hurt you?” Sylus asked, his eyes were searching through your entire body for any wounds but you shook your head and leaned on his chest, wrapping your small arms around his waist

“No. It’s that time of the month. It’s the first day and I don’t know why but it’s painful this time” you whined and Sylus couldn’t help but coo at your vulnerable state that he brought you closer to his chest (if that was even possible with how close the two of you were).

“Shhh, it’s alright sweetie. I’m here” Sylus kissed the top of your head as you hummed in satisfaction. “Sleep sweetie, I’ll be here when you wake up, hmm? I’ll try to keep the meeting short and quick for you” Sylus mentioned as he lulled you to sleep

As he stroked your head like a kitten, Sylus the softie was gone as his eyes looked through the entire room with a cold, sharp gaze that if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead by now. “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Where’s my share in the sales, gentlemen? Or did you think that you could fool me that easily by selling my weapons at a higher price by giving away some information about me?”

***

By the end of the meeting, there was practically no one in the room as Sylus dismissed them all into thin air since he needed to be quick.

Sylus almost cursed at himself for almost going too far with the lowlife men in the room until he remembered that you were practically sleeping in his arms.

Taking a deep breath, Sylus went back to look at your sleeping figure, stroking your head as he kissed your forehead before teleporting both you and him back to the master bedroom where Sylus laid you on the bed.

Leaving you to sleep, Sylus decided to shower and cook up something quick and easy for dinner which was steak and creamy mushroom soup to help ease your pain.

In the midst of finishing his cooking, he heard soft footsteps and a yawn slowly getting louder which he knew that it had to be you. Turning around, Sylus saw your now awaken figure sitting by the counter where Sylus was just behind of.

“Here you go, sweetie” Sylus mentioned, placing down a plate of steak with the mushroom soup he made in front of your sleeping figure

“Thank you, Sy. Am sorry I interrupted your meeting” you yawned, drinking some of the soup that he made while Sylus decided to eat across from you

“It was nothing, sweetie. I’ve mentioned it before. If you ever need me, just come to me. No matter where I am, who am I with, or what time of the day it is. I’ll always be here for you” Sylus mentioned, caressing your cheek whilst wiping the excess soup at the corner of your lips

“But what would those men do now they’ve seen your soft side?” you asked, holding his hand that was on your cheek

“They’re none of your concern. Besides, they won’t be able to spread anymore information anymore” Sylus smirked, making you roll your eyes. “You and your evol”

Chuckling at your behaviour, Sylus decided to feed you the dinner he made. “Are you still in pain?” he asked

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to tease him. “A bit. Mainly because you only kissed my head when the pain I’m feeling is at my stomach”

Shaking his head, Sylus went around the counter and cupped your jaw, making you look at his tall figure. “Is that so? Then let me kiss it better”

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic #lads sylus #lads x reader #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

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deepspacenova · 2 months ago

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𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒

4500 words | Dragon!Sylus. Banter. Sexual tension. Smut. (aka the holy trifecta)

Note: Basically written based on headcanons and vibes. Because no, I am not okay about this myth card. Let’s all be not okay together xx

The icy air prickled on her skin as she scrambled her way through the rocky terrain that led down to the cavern system.

She couldn’t help but feel a thrum of adrenaline-infused excitement as she crept into the darkness, the fissures in the rock overhead illuminating the tunnel with speckled moonlight as she slipped through the silent shadows.

She paused for a moment, her breath curling into silver mist in front of her. The stars were high, and the cave ahead was quiet and blissfully unaware of her presence; she had time for a moment of indulgence. She took a deep breath, the intense chill of the night air revitalizing her.

She had certainly seen worse.

Once upon a time she’d loathed heights, but she’d experienced far worse things over the years than being a few extra metres from the ground. After the war she’d thought it would be easy to fall back into her life, thought it would feel like being back on solid ground, but she’d been wrong, so caught up in changing the world that she didn’t even realise that she had changed too. Now…

Now she had to get back to work.

She hugged the jagged rock walls, her boots crunching softly against the gritty floor of the cave as she crept deeper into the shadows. Overhead, the roof of the cavern became higher and darker, glittering with faint streaks of quartz that caught the dim light filtering through unseen cracks above.

What would her younger self think of this? Sneaking into a monster’s lair to pilfer his treasure? She imagined that naive girl, horrified beyond belief, clinging to ideals about honor and fairness. But those ideals didn’t pay for food, for shelter. The truth was simple: wealth changed the world. And if she had to steal it from the claws of a monster, then so be it.

The path curved sharply, and just ahead, the faintest glint of gold sparkled in the dim light. Her heart skipped, her pulse quickening.

Something was wrong.

The chamber’s massive iron door, usually sealed tight, was cracked open, its hinges groaning faintly as a draft stirred the cavern air.

Damn it. She’d been so close. So close she could taste it. But now—

The faintest sound reached her ears—a low scrape, like claws dragging across stone. It was so subtle she almost missed it over the hammering of her heart as she gripped the dagger at her side.

Carefully, she tilted her head to peek around the corner.

The chamber opened into a vast expanse of shimmering treasure. Gold coins, goblets, gems, and gilded weapons spilled across the cavern floor in glittering piles. But her attention wasn’t on the wealth — it was on the hulking figure sprawled atop the stone mound.

The dragon.

His massive form was sprawled on the pedestal, onyx scales glinting in the faint light like shards of obsidian. Smoke curled lazily around him as he rested its head on a palm, like a domesticated creature in repose.

Her stomach twisted. She’d expected him to be there, of course, but seeing him in the flesh was another thing entirely. The beast was impossibly large, his spiked wings resting behind him like folds of a midnight curtain. His tail swished idly, the tip flicking lazily as it held his prize, her prize. The Thread of Celestia, the sparkling necklace she’d set out to retrieve.

The very sight of him irked her. The sheer arrogance of him. No disguise, no armor, no clothing, he wasn’t even sticking to the shadows, the cocky, brutish–

“Your stealth skills could use some work.” He called, his voice low and resonant, cutting through the quiet night like a blade through silk.

She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck and gripped her dagger.

She stepped out into the moonlight, allowing the glow to illuminate her silhouette. His massive form shifted, but he didn’t move to hide. No, he continued to lay upon his perch insolently, as if daring her to try something. His gaze narrowed as he took in her figure fully.

A few moments of silent stalemate, then, a long-suffering sigh.

“Again, little one?”

“Apparently.”

“How have we ended up here again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who sent you this time? I doubt we move in the same circles,” he said with a pretentious little sniff.

“No one hired me, Sylus.”

“Oh?” he inquired, eyes glittering like rubies. “Just for the fun of it then?”

“This isn’t for fun.” She lied. It wasn’t just for fun anyway… “Just because you don’t care about anything but yourself–”

“You know that’s not true,” he said, sitting up. The Thread of Celestia disappeared somewhere on his person with a smoothness that made her wonder just how many secrets his body held.

Sylus continued, “I don’t believe for a second that you don’t have a little giggle to yourself thinking of the look on your master’s face when he realises his favorite… toy is being played with.” His gaze sluiced like warm water over her body and she knew he didn’t mean the necklace. She took another step toward him, palm tensing around the dagger behind her back. “And before you start waxing poetic about causes, I’ll remind you that last time we were in this position, you told me that cretins like him get what they deserve.”

“They do,” she said lightly, taking a few more steps forward.

“If you’re waiting for me to fall prey to the dagger behind your back, little one, you’re going to be disappointed.”

She shrugged, using the action to subtly shift her stance.

“I’m always disappointed in you.”

“Careful, sweetie, you’ll make me cry,” he drawled, his lip curling. “Shall we get on with it, then?”

She stopped less than a foot away from him. “I think we should.”

“Then, we don’t have all night.”

“No we don’t.”

There was a moment of perfect stillness, perfect silence. Then the tension snapped.

She sprung forward like an arrow from a bow, lunging towards him through the thin gap between them, and at the very same instant he leapt off the ledge, conjuring a cloud of thick smoke that swamped her vision. She expelled it with a slash of her arm and as the fog cleared she tried to glimpse him to no avail. He’d disappeared.

She may well have changed a great deal over the years, but she still hated losing.

She prowled around the cavern, her lungs burning as she fought to catch her breath each time she felt a claw poke her back, a tail stagger her step, or his melodic chuckle reverberate through her chest. She was fast but so was he, and in terms of size, strength, and supernatural ability he had her beat tenfold.

He was almost close enough to grab now, but still an elusive flash of body parts her blasted human eyes could barely make out. It was now or never, though. With a grimace and a grunt of exertion, whipped around, hands outstretched–

And caught nothing but air.

She heard the soft thump of his tail behind the gold pile next to her and, not one to be easily deterred, she followed.

This wasn’t over until she said it was over.

But she felt his heartbeat too late, alarmingly close, and she didn’t even have time to turn around before the tip of his claw was denting into the delicate flesh at the side of her neck.

“Found me,” he whispered into her ear as his arm came around her. He chuckled under his breath as she shuddered involuntarily against his front. “I forgot we’d added ear-whispering to the list of dirty tricks. I know how much it… affects you.”

“Fuck you,” she spat, cursing her treacherous body.

“Really? Here?” he said, and she could practically hear the arrogance in his grin.

Well. One dirty trick begets another.

Angling her hips just so, she pushed her arse backward until she heard the sharp intake of breath she knew so well. Then she snapped her head back, and heard a satisfying grunt as it connected with his face.

She spun around as his tail replaced his arm when the tip of his middle finger brush a small drop of blood from the corner of his lip — ideally, she’d have aimed for his nose, but he was at least a head taller than her so she’d take what she could reach — and drew her fist back.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sylus growled, grabbing her fist in his hand and twisting her arm toward the small of her back. “Don’t you dare give me another black eye, little one.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered, drawing her dagger with her unrestrained hand and aiming it at his face.

Sylus released her fist from his grip, then used her moment of unbalance to tighten his tail around the back of her knees, but she was still fast and trained. She dropped her entire weight onto his tail and tackled him to the ground while he was still regaining his balance.

“If you don’t want a black eye, then you should be faster,” she panted, wriggling on top of him as she attempted to pin his arms to his sides with her knees. “Now where is it?”

“You don’t already know?” he asked silkily, with an utterly shameless grin and a roll of his hips. And yes, of course she could feel the effect the friction was having on him, of course, she knew she was squeezing him with her thighs so it was hardly an unexpected outcome, of course, his ridiculous leather ensemble really did leave very little to the imagination, but–

“I’m not interested in that,” she said coolly. “Where’s the necklace? And don’t you dare tell me to search for it.”

“Why should I tell you anything, sweetie? I’m rather enjoying myself if I’m honest.” She felt his erection twitch beneath her as if it was agreeing with him.

“So help me, Sylus, I will search for it, and depending on which crevice you’ve stashed it in, that could be quite uncomfortable for you.”

“Why are you so damn insistent anyway?” he asked blandly. “This thing is a novelty at best.”

“An expensive novelty,”

“Well obviously, but surely a rock that supposedly prevents hangovers is beneath your exalted notice?”

“It just means I’m selling something harmless,” she said with a shrug, “Now where-”

A loud crack of thunder above them split the quiet of the night, startling her.

Sylus immediately bucked his hips up, destabilizing her just enough that he could pull his hands up from where she’d been pinning them. He grabbed the back of her thighs and flipped them over, managing to catch one hand but she was too quick for him to catch the one that mattered, and then they were still again.

Her dagger under his chin, his claw digging into the space above her heart, tail pinning her in place, their chests heaving.

“Now why do we always have to solve our problems with violence, little one?” he purred, his voice barely more than a wisp of air. “Can’t we act civilized for once?”

“Maybe.”

“Fancy moving your little blade then?” he murmured, leaning forward a touch so she could feel the soft vibration of his voice humming through the length of her weapon into her hand.

“No,” she said stubbornly, “Why don’t you move your- your talon?”

“Because if I move mine you’ll cut my cheek, take the jewelry, and leave me,” he bit out, scowling, “Like last time.”

“Last time was different.”

“I wouldn’t have cared, you know,” he whispered, moving a fraction closer. She kept her blade against his throat, and he pressed his a little harder into her ribs. “I would have let you take that amethyst too, but waking empty handed and alone? That did sting a bit, sweetie.”

“So sorry,” she muttered sarcastically.

“No you’re not,” Sylus growled.

“No,” she said, almost breathless now, “I’m not.”

He let out a huff of exasperation, and they surged together. The kiss was hot and hard and vicious, and it stole the air from her lungs. She could taste the blood on his lips, and resisted the urge to bite it harder, oddly proud she was the one who’d put the mark there, who made the great beast bleed in the first place. He had no such qualms, and he nipped sharply at her lower lip, grunting in satisfaction when he felt her shudder beneath him.

“We can’t,” she gasped as he turned his attention to her neck.

“If you want to leave then move your damn knife out of my face,” he rumbled into her jaw, and she realised that she had instinctually kept her weapon stuck firmly under his chin. His claws had moved to wrap around her throat.

“Fine.” The sound of metal hitting metal echoed around them as the blade landed into a small pile of gold.

They lay there, their faces a hair’s breadth apart for several seconds before she yanked the silvery-white hair at his nape and kissed him as if she wasn’t expected to be back in the city soon.

Sylus didn’t complain. On the contrary, he growled into her mouth and his tail constricted harder around her hips, keeping her flush against him. Gods, she really did wish he wasn’t quite so attractive. She could feel every muscle through her clothes, smell the comforting scent of smoke on his warm breath, see every piece of white and black that covered this man who lived in the grey.

“Every time,” she murmured as he kissed and nipped his way down her chest. “Every time I say it's the last time.”

“You did last time.” He hummed.

She flicked her tongue against the pulse point she’d wanted to press her dagger into a few moments ago, “That’s why I left.”

He roughly shoved his thigh between hers and smirking at the way she gasped and tightened her grip on his shoulders, she could feel every wrinkle of fabric brush against her sensitive skin. “I’m sure that’s why,” he whispered in her ear sardonically.

“Dirty tricks,” she managed to pant out.

“Have I missed something, little one?” Sylus asked, pushing his thigh harder into her so she was practically rocking on his leg, “I thought we were well into the list? My lip’s still healing by the way.”

“I need to get out of here, you beast,” she said, uncomfortably aware of how thin and unconvincing her voice sounded. “You can have all the dirty tricks you want once I–”

“That a promise?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

She couldn’t help but smile back, even as she felt her cheeks heat. “Just a few hundred metres to the exit of the cave”

“Hm, winner keeps the necklace?”

“Wait, that’s not–”

He silenced her with a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth, then pulled away with an unbearably arrogant smirk, getting up and vanishing from her sight.

“Sylus!” She shouted in frustration before sprinting after him.

That confusing, adrenaline-fueled joy was back as they chased each other around the cave.

She had no clue if she was really gaining on him, or if he was letting her for the fun of it, but in that moment she didn’t care a bit. When she spotted his tail from the corner of her eye she leapt forward and this time she caught more than air. She barreled into his chest like a warrior. Her light build was mitigated by the sheer momentum and together they tumbled onto the stone-cold floor.

They tussled clumsily for a few moments, rolling over and over without either one getting the upper hand.

She saw a tantalising glint in her peripheral vision.

He was dangling the Thread of Celestia over her head from his tail — she didn’t even want to know which unholy nook or cranny he’d produced it from — and even in a gilded room it glittered, almost as if it was producing its own light.

Then she realised that while she had been staring at the jewel, Sylus was staring at her, eyelids lowered, gaze soft. He cocked his head, questioning, and she couldn’t help but smile.

She reached out and gently closed her hand over the necklace, removed it from his tail, and flung it away from them.

“The usual rules?” Sylus murmured.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t wake me last time.”

“Last time we’d already agreed on the course of action.”

“You mean you’d agreed on the course of action,”

“Don’t pout, dragon. It’s not my fault all your attention had rushed south.”

“You were half-naked, sweetie.”

“So were you. That’s how I know where all your attention was.”

“Just… promise you won’t do it again,” he said, more serious than she’d heard him tonight.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I promise.”

“I’ll make you pay if you break this one,” Sylus rumbled, his voice low and dangerous.

She opened her mouth to retort, but he surged forwards with a low moan, their lips met, and her brain went blank for several wonderful seconds.

They were panting when they broke apart, but there was only a split second of stillness before they were back at each other, fingers and claws tearing at their garments between kisses. Eventually the clothing battle was won, and Sylus pressed his naked torso to hers as he brushed her hair over her shoulder with one sharp finger.

She ran her hands indulgently down the length of his back and he shuddered under her fingertips, sinking his teeth into the soft skin between her shoulder and neck.

She gasped and he chuckled. “Tit for tat,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, running his hands down the outside of her arms all the way down to her hips, where he hooked his thumbs inside her underwear.

She tore them down her legs, the tease of real touch not nearly enough.

“So impatient,” he tutted, his lips brushing her jaw with every syllable.

In answer she slid her hand back up to palm him and grinning smugly to herself when she felt him shudder.

“You are always so-” he pulled one bra-strap down off her shoulder, “-demanding-” he slipped the other strap down, dragging his tongue over her collarbone, “-and greedy.”

“Tease,” she managed, trying and failing to disguise the growing desperation in her voice.

He pulled back and smiled slowly, the dusting of pink on his cheekbones and the soft grinding into her palm the only signs he might be as overwrought as she was.

He dragged a fingertip across her lips, just barely grazing her tongue for the smallest second, and then it was too late to stop herself. She sucked it into her mouth, and for that moment every shred of composure vanished from his expression.

Apparently all his patience vanished too, because he let out a hoarse groan and grabbed her, flipping her around so her front was pressed against the gold-splattered floor. She longed to feel his heated skin against hers, so when he flicked open her bra she scrambled to shrug it off, gasping when her nipples brushed the cold metal of his treasures.

“You know how I know you like me here?” he growled into her ear, running his sharp finger down her spine.

“How?” she panted, and he laughed quietly, a soft vibration against her neck.

“Because, little one,” he purred, “You’ve already headbutted me once this evening. I don’t believe for a second you wouldn’t do it again if you wanted to,” he nuzzled the nape of her neck, an oddly tender action given the way he was gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, “So logically I have to conclude that you’re letting me do this… but why is that, sweetie?”

He trailed off and his tail lowered around her thighs, leaving her exposed but still constrained. He swept his hand down her arse and the inside of her thigh, and then back up again to dip one finger into her. She tried to arch into his touch, but he’d already pulled away, and she huffed in frustration.

“Tell me why you’re letting me do this,” he commanded softly.

She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. How was he so good at this?

The first time it happened it had been a fight from start to finish, brutal and frantic and without the smallest trace of softness, and she’d screamed so loud they’d had very nearly brought the cave down. The second time was more of a negotiation. He’d trapped her here for a few days, and after the first time had been so successful, it seemed like there were certainly worse ways to pass the time.

Every time they both agreed it was the last. Sometimes she told him to shut up, wrestled him to the floor, and made him shut up. Sometimes it was the other way around. But every time it became just a little harder to convince herself that this time really was the last.

“Tell me, little one,” he breathed, grinding each ridge of his cock slowly against her backside.

And every time, they would get to this point, the point where her resistance would evaporate, she’d say fuck it.

“Because I love it,” she gasped.

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward again to reach between her legs, cupping her but not pushing inside. She groaned and arched into him again, and the arrogant bastard laughed. The worst thing was that his brazenness only riled her even more. “Now, are you going to be good for me, sweetie?”

“Don’t push it,” she snapped, and he laughed again.

“As you wish,” he said smoothly, and as much as she was enjoying this, his hand between her legs and his warm weight pressing her bare front against the floor, it didn’t do to let his ego run amok.

She moved to turn around, and surprisingly he didn’t try to stop her, just pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. For once there was no fight for dominance, no semblance of a struggle, just a frenzy of movement as they both scrambled to devour each other.

She traced his scales with her tongue. He stamped hot, open mouthed kisses on the bruises that were beginning to bloom from their escapades. Skin to skin, it was like a moment out of time, a bubble where nothing outside this underground cavern existed.

A sigh of satisfaction vibrated from his chest, when he slid a finger inside her and choked on a gasp of pleasure. His tongue swirled around her nipple and his thumb found her clitoris, and suddenly what she’d thought would be a marathon became a sprint.

“Sylus, I- I’m-”

He withdrew his hand and she groaned in disappointment, but her thighs were already cradling him and his cock was already teasing at her entrance. She ground down, desperate for friction, but he tightened his tail around her and before she could even blink he had flipped her over again. She had wanted to watch him unravel above her but now he was pushing her knees apart, and pushing further and further into her and- well, actually, this was fine too.

The moment the tip of his cock bottomed out she arched up into him as if she’d been electrocuted. Even so, it wasn’t enough. She squirmed for more.

“So demanding,” he purred, his hot breath torturous against the curve of her cheek.

“Stop stopping!” she growled, grabbing his hair to push his face into her neck and pushing back into him.

He chuckled against her and flexed his hips once, just once, and she was so close she felt like a live wire, her skin buzzing with the anticipation of it. Without warning he punched her clit and she screamed into the top of her own hand.

Sylus caught her wrist and pinned it to the ground.

“Don’t you dare,” he grunted, pushing in further, “I want- fuck- I want to hear every single sound.”

She moaned loudly. Much as she hated to admit it, she really did love his voice like this.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she clenched around him involuntarily as he began to move. “Oh fuck- I fucking love-”

“Gods, I’m going to-”

“Yes, come on my cock,” he snarled, thrusting harder and tightening his grip on her wrist.

Her other hand fisted around his nape, her whole body clenched, and her awareness narrowed past this room, even past him, and all she could do was hold on for dear life as her orgasm claimed her.

In the fuzzy edges of her perception she heard her name, his voice low and rough, almost reverential, and finally he came with a wordless moan, his body shuddering against her. As the waves of pleasure began to recede, she thought distantly how strange it was that this was so good. It didn’t make any sense at all. They didn’t make any sense. This couldn’t ever work.

But there was something profoundly, sinfully delightful about taking something you were never meant to have. And in that moment, she thought she understood this dragon more than she ever had.

There weren’t any more words. This part was always oddly quiet for how much they both loved to talk. They just silently curled their exhausted bodies around each other. There wasn’t anything left to say, they both knew that, all too quickly, dawn would arrive, and reality would catch up with them once again.

As the tendrils of sleep coiled around her mind, the last thought in her head was that maybe she would quite like to do this one day without any of the usual shit. Maybe they could fall asleep together and wake up together. Maybe they would… maybe……

When she awoke, she felt unusually comfortable. She hummed in contentment and stretched, and let out a little sigh of disappointment when she realised that she was alone. Then the context caught up with her, and all the sleepy indulgence evaporated.

She bolted upright, ignoring the twinges of protest from her limbs and the rush of lightheadedness at getting up so quickly. She’d half expected him to be lounging there next to her, waiting for her with the necklace dangling from his tail like an insolent bastard, but no. The cave was as empty as the silks she’d been lain on, and her heart sank.

She should have known this would happen, especially since she’d done it to him last time. She shook her head in exasperation at herself. This couldn’t keep happening, it was-

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a small package on the bedside table, a leather pouch with a folded note propped up in front. She reached for the pouch, undoing the drawstring and peering inside.

And there it was. The necklace. The very thing that had brought her to him in the first place.

She pulled the drawstring tight, as if looking at it too long might make it disappear, and reached blindly for the note. It was just a few scrawled words.

Just this once, sweetie. I have a monstrous reputation to maintain. -S

#my take on our one and our only #dragon sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #lads mc #lads sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lads smut #sylus #sylus smut #sylus fanfic #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #my writing #nova writing

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amaraee · 29 days ago

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Did a quick sketch because the new Sylus card got me trippin 😩

#sylus fanart #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #loveandeepspace #love and deepspace #lnds #sylus fanfic

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exorcxqsm · 4 months ago

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Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus

Word Count: 5,8k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries.

Notes:Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3

Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.

You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.

The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.

You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.

With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.

So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.

While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.

No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.

Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.

That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.

His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.

You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.

Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.

Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.

Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.

His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.

The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.

Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.

“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.

“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.

“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”

“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.

As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”

Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”

You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.

“Sylus.”

He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.

“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”

“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”

His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”

Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”

“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.

“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.

“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”

“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.

You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?

Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?

Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.

When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.

You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.

Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”

You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.

“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.

“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”

His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.

When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.

Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.

You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.

After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.

Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.

As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”

You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.

“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.

You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.

“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.

You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.

“I did.”

“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

“What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”

Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”

“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”

“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”

A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.

Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.

“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.

Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”

A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.

Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”

“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.

“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."

By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”

Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.

Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”

“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”

His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.

The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.

As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”

“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.

“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.

“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.

“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”

“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”

“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.

When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”

You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.

Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.

Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?

“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.

This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.

You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”

Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.

“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.

“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.

Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.

Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.

His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.

The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.

Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.

You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”

Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.

“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.

He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.

His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”

You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.

The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”

Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”

“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”

“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.

Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”

You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.

The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.

Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.

You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

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mephisto-reporting · 3 months ago

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I Love You : Sylus Edition

Premise: The plot was also inspired by one of his memories

Trope: Angst to fluff.

Pairing: Reader x Sylus

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction.My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

The days had been slow, drawn-out, and suffocating. Every morning, you'd checked your phone, hoping for a message from Sylus or at least a notification. Nothing. The anxious knot in your stomach tightened with each unanswered call and every unread text. The silence was unbearable. It wasn’t the first time Sylus had gone radio silent, but this time was different. It had stretched on for days—too many days—and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You had become accustomed to his presence, even if it often frustrated you. His teasing, his cocky smirk, the way he’d effortlessly control every room he entered, even when he wasn’t trying. But more than that, there was something you couldn’t ignore: the soft way he’d treat you when no one else was watching. Those tender moments between him and you, when he’d pull you close, call you his "kitten," and joke around until all the tension in the air vanished. But now? Now, all you could do was wait.

It was moments like these, your anxiety running rampant, that you regretted not having Luke or Kieran’s contact details. You had always pushed them away, telling yourself you could handle things alone. But right now, more than anything, you wanted someone to reassure you that he was okay. It felt like you were walking in a fog, each day more uncertain than the last. At night, you stared at your phone, wondering if it was broken or if he was simply ignoring you. You hated that you couldn’t even call him, hated that he was out there somewhere, unreachable.

That night, after days of waiting, you made a decision. Your heart skipped a beat when the idea hit you: the Onychinus base. It was risky, but you'd do anything to find answers. You couldn't sit idly by anymore. You knew you had to go to the Onychinus base, even if you didn't have the slightest idea of what you’d find. You knocked on the door, then knocked again, but no one opened. A cold dread settled over you as you stood there, staring at the imposing walls, the silence swallowing your voice.

Where was he? What was happening?

I miss you, you thought, a silent confession you refused to say aloud. It hurt more than you expected, and you couldn't understand why.

Two more days pass and it was driving you insane. You needed a distraction, possibly a new mission, outside Linkon. The rumble of your motorbike against the open highway barely matched the relentless thud of your heart. It had been days—agonizing, nerve-wracking days—since you'd last heard from Sylus. Messages had gone unanswered, and for all his taunting, all his smug calls to remind you he was still lurking in the shadows, now there was… nothing. Just silence. You hated it—hated that his absence gnawed at you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You hadn’t realized how much you’d gotten used to him, his cocky grins, his infuriating taunts. His voice was a presence in your life you’d come to crave despite yourself. But now, with each mile passing under your tires, you still felt a flicker of worry that he might not come back.

The sound of another engine roared beside you, and your pulse quickened as you glanced sideways, a dark figure matching your speed. That profile—it was him. It had to be.

You yanked the bike to a stop at the side of the road, helmet barely hitting the seat before you spun to face him. Sylus had pulled up, his helmet already in hand, revealing that smirk of his, like he hadn’t just vanished without a word.

Before he could get a word in, you started.

“Where the hell have you been?” you shouted. You could feel your voice tremble, frustration blending with relief. “No calls, no texts! I was just supposed to sit around wondering if you were—if you were…” You trailed off, refusing to say it out loud. “You’ve been gone for days, and I’ve been losing my mind trying to figure out what happened to you! You can’t just… just disappear like that! Do you have any idea—”

He listened, eyes gleaming with amusement, lips twitching as if he couldn’t resist toying with you, even now. Sylus’s lips curled into a teasing smirk, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he interrupted. “Careful, kitten,” he drawled, stepping closer. “I might start thinking you actually care about me.”

You glared at him, furious but relieved to see him in one piece. “I do care about you, you idiot!” you snapped back, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. “I can’t just sit around not knowing where the hell you’ve gone, what you’ve been doing, whether you’re dead or alive!”

“Oh, really?” he replied, feigning mock surprise as he leaned forward, his smirk deepening, eyes dark and playful. "Come on, sweetie. You’re really losing sleep over the big bad criminal of the N109 Zone? You had no reason to care for someone like me. Not unless you were just bored. Or maybe you’ve taken a liking to getting under my skin. Which, I won’t lie,” he said, chuckling softly, “I find adorable.”

The heat of your anger mixed with a surge of emotion you couldn’t keep inside anymore. Tears welled up in your eyes, your hands shaking as you wiped them away furiously, but nothing could stop the words from tumbling out, raw and unfiltered.

“The reason,” you yelled, your voice cracking, “is because I love you! That’s why!

The admission hung in the air, loud and unmistakable, and the tears that you’d been holding back prickled at your eyes. You half expected him to brush it off, to laugh at you, maybe even just get back on his bike. The world seemed to stop for a moment. Sylus stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, his usually smug expression completely wiped off his face. His mouth parted, as though searching for the right words but coming up empty.

You stood there, heart thumping wildly in your chest, hoping to hell he wouldn’t just turn and leave, or worse, laugh at your confession. Instead, he was… completely and utterly still, his eyes locked on yours, stunned into silence. His expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability flickering across his face. He took a step closer, lifting a hand, and before you knew it, his thumb was brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Say that again, sweetie” he murmured, his voice unusually quiet, vulnerable. “I didn’t hear you.”

Your chest tightened, but you repeated yourself, more firmly this time. “I love you, Sylus. I love you.”

“You mean that?” he whispered, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado. “You… love me?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. “Yes. I was terrified you were gone forever, Sylus. You make my life… complicated, but you make it better, too.”

He didn’t move for a second, just stared, processing every word. Then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he took your chin in his hand, bringing you closer. “I love you too, sweetie. Believe me, I didn’t think I’d hear it back. But… damn.” He chuckled, shaking his head, and then pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you with a warmth you hadn’t expected.

“You’re insane, you know that, kitten? I didn’t think you’d ever say it.” He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “But I’m glad you did. Because I... I love you too.”

For a brief, shining moment, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. Sylus, the man who had always played with control and power, had let himself be vulnerable, and you could see it in his eyes now. He wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t running. He was here, and he cared. His lips brushed against your forehead in a rare, tender gesture, the warmth of his touch grounding you, calming the storm of emotions in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you worry like that. But don’t think for a second that I don’t care about you. I do. More than you know.”

You looked at him through your wet lashes, still struggling with the emotions that had bubbled up so suddenly.

Sylus’s smirk returned, though this time it had a different edge to it. “So much for not resonating with me when we first met,” he teased, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes. “I guess I’ve won, huh?”

You nudged him with your elbow, still trying to process everything, your heart hammering in your chest.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “I love you, sweetie. More than you think I do. You’re mine now.”

A blush crept up your neck, and before you could even respond, Sylus was tugging you closer, pulling you into an embrace that was more tender than anything you’d ever expected from the man who thrived on power and control.

“I’m not letting you go,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Not tonight. Not ever again. Guess that makes me one lucky criminal.” he murmured, squeezing you just a little tighter. He held you like he never wanted to let go, and for the first time in days, everything felt right again.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

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loveanddeepthroat · 6 months ago

Text

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour.

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy.

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert.

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?”

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm.

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends.

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset.

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper.

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”

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reilemon · 4 months ago

Text

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Possession 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

♡︎ synopsis: You move into an abandoned mansion looking for a fresh start. Little did you know you're not the only one living there.

♡︎ pairing: demon!Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ cw: restraints, corruption (if you squint), breathplay

♡︎ word count: 10k

♡︎ a/n: the fourth story for kinktober 2024.

♡︎ Thanks to my dearest friend and beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

The night wraps around you like a vice, pressing down on your skin. Every breath feels heavier than the last as the low, eerie hum seeps into your bones. The melody is fractured, broken, sung by something that doesn’t understand human warmth. It’s wrong, so wrong, and the more you hear it, the harder it is to pretend that everything is normal.

You sit up in bed, the silk of your nightgown sticking to your skin, cold sweat beading along your neck and back. You strain your ears to listen, catching every sound the house makes—the creak of floorboards, the low groan of the wind clawing at the windows. But beneath it, that humming persists, growing clearer.

A footstep.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Something is walking—no, pacing—just beyond your bedroom door, almost as though it knows you're listening.

You tell yourself, ‘this is ridiculous’. You’ve lived here almost two weeks, nothing dangerous has happened.

Two weeks living in this forgotten, decaying mansion. At first, the isolation felt like a cure, a place where you could finally breathe after years of soul-sucking work. The realtor had been so eager to sell it. You remember that first visit—dust motes swirling in the dim afternoon light, the scent of mildew hanging in the air. The long-abandoned estate was priced absurdly low for such a massive property. You had asked about its history, about the family that owned it. “Old money,” the realtor said dismissively. “They never even lived here, not really. They’re eager to get rid of it.”

You pressed her—why would they abandon a mansion like this? She’d shrugged, evasive. “Just one of those things, you know? Big house, lots of upkeep. Not practical anymore.” She'd forced a smile, deflecting. “People want something more modern these days.”

At the time, you didn’t care. You wanted solitude, escape, a place to start over after the chaos of your previous life.

In the first week, you brushed off the oddities. The strange cold spots in the halls, the faint scent of smoke that seemed to come from nowhere, the occasional flickering of the old lights. You reasoned ‘the house is just old, settling’. Maybe it was the stress from the move, or just the overwhelming quiet after years of city life.

But then, things became harder to dismiss.

You remember waking up one night to the sound of soft whispers, like voices just beyond your door. You convinced yourself it was a dream, that you were still half-asleep, that your mind was playing tricks on you. But when you opened the door, the hall was filled with an icy draft, despite every window being locked tight. Your skin prickled with the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

With every night, your paranoia has grown. You’ve stopped sleeping through the night. Every creak, every gust of wind outside feels like a threat. The humming has become a nightly occurrence —soft at first, almost melodic, but it twists, becomes distorted. And tonight, the footsteps. They’re louder. Closer.

You sit there for too long, your mind racing. Each beat of your heart pounds in your throat as you try to summon some logic to ground you. ‘There has to be an explanation’. You’re not some helpless woman in a cliché horror movie. You won’t let fear consume you.

But the footsteps stop, right outside the door. And in that moment, the air feels too thick to breathe.

Fuck.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, the cold floor shocking against your bare feet, dragging you out of paralysis. The silk robe slides over your shoulders, its fabric a poor defense against the dread crawling up your spine. You move slowly, the wooden floor beneath you creaking with each step toward the door. Your fingers hover over the handle for a moment, hesitation making your hand shake.

‘It’s just a draft’, you tell yourself, though the words feel hollow. ‘Just the old house’.

You open the door. You swallow, flipping the light switch with a trembling hand, lighting the empty hallway. The old bulbs buzz and flicker before casting their weak glow, but the light feels sickly. You take a deep breath, forcing your legs to move, fingers brushing along the wall as though the contact will somehow steady you. With every step, the hum grows fainter, retreating deeper into the house, drawing you further from the safety of your room.

The sitting room’s light flickers as you pass, casting distorted shapes along the walls. The silence between the hums stretches, amplifying the creaks and groans of the house around you.

The dining room is next. You hesitate at the threshold, your breath hitching as the light stutters overhead, threatening to plunge you into darkness again. But it holds, if only just. The hum is still distant, still teasing, but now there's something else—something heavier beneath it. A low, barely audible rasping breath, like the sound of something alive, breathing with you.

Your hand grazes the light switch to the kitchen, fingers trembling. The moment the light flares to life, it dies.

The room plunges into complete darkness. A thick, suffocating blackness that feels like it’s crawling over your skin. Your pulse spikes, cold panic flooding your veins. The hum is gone now—replaced by the unmistakable feeling that something is in there, waiting, watching.

A faint whisper—right next to your ear, soft and malicious—sends a scream clawing up your throat, but you bite it back, too terrified to make a sound.

‘Move. Move, now.’

You stumble backward. The floor seems to shift beneath you as you flee towards the stairs. You crash into the bedroom, your breath ragged, chest heaving. You slam the door shut with a resounding thud, and the thin wood feels too fragile, too weak to keep anything out. You press your back against it, gripping the doorknob with trembling fingers, your raging heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You stand there, frozen, waiting for something else to happen. But nothing does. No footsteps, no whispers, no movement beyond the door. Just stillness.

You exhale, forcing yourself to unclench your hands from the doorknob, willing your body to stop shaking. ‘Get a grip’, you tell yourself, trying to suppress the waves of panic that threaten to consume you. You're not going to lose your mind over this. ‘It's just the stress. That’s all.’ The isolation, the strangeness of living alone in such a vast, decrepit place—it’s been messing with your head. You force your breathing to slow, sucking in deep, calming gulps of air.

Pushing away from the door, you cross the room and sit on the bed, retreating back into the sheets. It’s late—too late to do anything about it now—but in the morning, you’ll change every lock in this mansion. No more creaky doors, no more unlocked windows. You’ll seal every inch of this place if you have to. And you’ll call Tara. She’d laugh at you at first, no doubt. She teased you for choosing to live in such a remote, old house. "You’re gonna end up starring in one of those haunted house stories," she'd said, half-joking. You smile weakly, despite the dread gnawing at your gut. It’s time to take her up on her offer to visit. Tomorrow, you’ll call her.

Lying back on the bed, you try to focus on the plan—changing locks, calling Tara. You’ll handle this like you handle everything. The house creaks softly, as if responding to your newfound resolve. You ignore it, pulling the sheets up over your face, the fabric cool against your skin. ‘Sleep’, you tell yourself. ‘You need sleep’.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The next day arrives sluggishly. You barely slept through the night, but daylight always brings a faint sense of hope. You push yourself out of bed, running through the motions, pretending for a moment that everything is normal.

Tara arrives just after lunch. You open the front door for her, her playful smile greeting you. But it quickly fades when her eyes catch the tension in your shoulders, the dullness of your skin. "You look like hell." You want to make a joke or a clever comeback in return, but the weight of the last two weeks presses too heavily on you. So you just let her in. You’ve told her over the phone this morning already, but now you tell her everything in more detail. You tell her about the footsteps, the humming, the cold spots. How the house doesn’t feel right.

"Okay," Tara says after a moment, her brows furrowing. "I’m not saying I believe in all that, but I’ve read enough ghost stories to know we don’t mess around with this kind of thing. I brought something." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bundle of sage. "We’ll burn this. Clears out bad energy, or at least it’s supposed to. Couldn’t hurt, right?"

You stare at the bundle for a moment, feeling both ridiculous and relieved. Maybe it’s silly, but she is right, it can’t hurt to try. "Thanks," you mutter, trying to smile.

"And I’ll ask around, see if anyone knows a good priest," Tara adds, her tone light again, though you can hear the genuine concern beneath it. "Someone could come over and bless the place, right? If nothing else, it’ll give you peace of mind."

You nod, though part of you still feels absurd for even considering it. Together, you and Tara walk through the house, lighting the sage. The oppressive weight that has been weighting you down lifts, just slightly. The creaking stops, the cold spots seem to fade, and for the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe.

"See? Not so bad," Tara says, giving you a reassuring smile. "It already feels better in here. Maybe that’s all it needed—some good ol’ sage and positive vibes."

You nod, grateful, feeling a spark of hope. Maybe this is all it took. Maybe that’s the end of it.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

That night, you follow your routine, trying to remain calm. You lock every door, check every window, twice, and make sure nothing is out of place. By the time you slip into bed, you’re exhausted. You lie there in the dark, the cool sheets against your skin, your eyes slowly fluttering closed.

But in the depths of the mansion, something stirs. The energy has changed, shifted. The air hums with a barely-contained agitation, a dark presence swirling in the corners, crawling through the walls. It had been watching you, waiting. And now, with the sage burned and the mention of a priest, it’s no longer content to simply watch.

A sound pulls you back from the edge of sleep. You freeze, straining to listen. At first, it’s faint, like distant laughter. It’s low, dark, amused, seeping through the room as though it’s mocking your very presence here. You sit up abruptly, your pulse spiking. The laugh is gone, but the air feels colder now. The wind outside picks up, slapping against the windows, and then—you hear it. A loud, sharp caw. A crow’s cry, shrill and eerie, slicing through the still night air. You turn your head toward the window, expecting to see its shape perched on the sill, but there’s nothing there, just the empty darkness beyond the glass.

‘It’s just a bird’, you tell yourself. ‘Just a bird’.

But then the footsteps start again.

They’re louder this time. Not like before when you could pretend it was just the old floorboards shifting. No, these are deliberate. Heavy. The distinct sound of boots on wood, moving slowly down the hallway outside your bedroom. Each step echoes through the house, growing louder, closer, until they stop right outside your door. You can feel your pulse in your throat, every instinct screaming at you to stay in bed, to not make a sound. But the silence is oppressive. You can’t just lie here anymore. You push yourself up on shaky legs, feet hitting the cold floor as you move toward the door, your hand hovering over the knob like before. But this time, you don’t need to open it.

The door swings open on its own.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, everything is still. The dark hallway stretches before you, stretching into nothingness. But then, at the far end, you see it—a faint, flickering glow. A dim, blood-red light. It pulses, stronger with each passing second, growing brighter, sharper. Your chest tightens as the glow intensifies. You swallow hard, a cold sweat forming on the back of your neck as the realization hits you that this—whatever it is—isn’t something you can ignore.

“Who… who are you?” you stammer, your voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “What do you want?”

The red glow flickers, focusing on you. You feel it in the air around you. The presence you’ve been denying, the thing that’s been watching, waiting. Now you’ve acknowledged it. It begins to solidify, drawing closer. The figure takes form—broad shoulders, a tall, towering frame. And then, his face. Sharp, defined features, red eyes, and silver hair. His gaze locks onto you, and it feels like he’s peering into the deepest, darkest parts of your soul.

You stumble back, heart racing, unable to comprehend what you’re seeing. This can’t be real. This has to be some nightmare. But he’s there, standing before you, fully formed—real.

“I’ve been waiting,” he says, his voice deep.

You stand frozen, every inch of you trembling. This isn’t some ghost story, some figment of your imagination. You take a step back, your legs weak, heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. “W-waiting for what?” you manage to choke out, though your voice barely rises above a whisper.

His smirk widens. “For you to understand,” he says softly, his tone almost condescending. He takes a step closer and the floor creaks under the weight of his boots, the sound amplified in the eerie silence of the mansion. “This place… it’s mine. Always has been.”

You stumble backward again, your mind racing, desperate for some way to rationalize this. But you can’t. The thing standing in front of you isn’t human. “I don’t understand,” you whisper, shaking your head. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

He laughs softly at that, a low, dark chuckle. “I am not the intruder here,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “You are.” His eyes narrow, the humor fading, replaced with a cold, hard edge. “This house, this mansion, has been mine for centuries. I’ve seen generations come and go, trying to claim it as their own.”

You’re barely holding on, fear coursing through you. “Who… who are you?” you ask again, though now your voice is almost a plea.

He leans in, his face close enough now that you can smell the faint scent of something burning, something ancient. “I am Sylus. This house… my house… it’s been mine longer than you can imagine. And you—" His gaze sharpens. "You’ve been tampering with things you shouldn’t."

He steps back. "I’ll give you a chance. Pack your things. Leave." His words are like a command, absolute, and it makes your chest tighten.

Something in you snaps.

The fear, the dread that’s been building for days—it all crashes into something else, something raw and angry. You clench your fists. Leave? After everything? You’ve fought too hard to be told to just give up.

"No," you say, your voice trembling, though whether it’s from fear or anger, you’re not sure. His smirk widens, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as if amused by your defiance. "No?" he repeats, the word dripping with condescension, as though your resistance is nothing more than a child’s tantrum to him.

But you’re not done. "It’s not fair," you continue, and you can feel the flood of emotions you’ve been holding back surging forward. "I worked for this. You don’t get to tell me to leave!" Your voice rises, trembling with frustration. You can feel your eyes burning with unshed tears. "I can’t just… pack up and go?! This place was supposed to be my fresh start!"

Sylus’ amusement falters. He was expecting fear. Submission. Not this. Not the raw emotion pouring out of you.

You take a shaky breath, your words tumbling out now unfiltered. "I’ve given up everything! My life was a wreck before I came here. I had no friends, no purpose, nothing.” Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t stop, the anger blending with exhaustion. "This place was supposed to be my dream," you whisper, your voice cracking. "And now you’re telling me to leave? After everything I’ve been through?”

Sylus says nothing for a long moment. He stands there, watching you with an intensity that feels almost suffocating, the mocking air that surrounded him fading as something shifts in his expression. His tail, once flicking in amusement, goes still. He opens his mouth, perhaps to laugh, to mock you again, but no sound comes out. Something about your defiance, your honesty, seems to catch him off guard. He had expected you to cower, to run, to tremble at his mere presence. Instead, you’re standing here, pouring your soul out in front of him.

The room is silent.

Sylus’ gaze doesn’t leave yours. "You think your struggles give you claim to this place?" His voice is softer now, almost contemplative. "You’re not the first to come here, seeking something better. But none of them stayed for long."

You don’t back down. "I’m not them," You say quietly. "I’m not running."

Sylus watches you for a long moment, his sharp features unreadable. Finally, he speaks, his tone more subdued, more thoughtful. "You have spirit, I’ll give you that." You stand there, still trembling, but something in the air feels different now. Sylus, for all his power, doesn’t seem as dismissive as he did before. He turns around, giving you one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the shadows. "Don’t bring a priest. Don’t burn any more sage. Consider this a warning.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the nights are quiet.

After the tense confrontation with Sylus, after his warning and your emotional outburst, something shifted. You still feel him—his presence lingers in the mansion like a shadow that never quite leaves—but it's no longer oppressive.For several nights now, you’ve slept soundly, undisturbed by the creaks of the floorboards or the strange hum echoing through the halls. And though you sometimes catch a glimpse of movement in the shadows, Sylus doesn’t show himself. It’s as if he’s made a quiet, unspoken truce with you, staying out of your way—for now.

A week passes, and the mansion almost feels… peaceful. Maybe it’s the quiet, maybe it’s the way you’ve started to make the space your own despite his warnings. You’ve begun to settle in, unpacking more boxes, putting things in order, reclaiming the mansion in small ways.

One evening, you decide to tackle the attic. You pull the creaky ladder down and climb, your flashlight casting light across the wooden beams and piles of forgotten items. The air is thick with dust, and the faint smell of mildew hangs in the air. Boxes are piled high, old trunks and forgotten furniture clutter the space, draped in old sheets. You take a deep breath, brushing away cobwebs as you start sorting through the old belongings. It’s mostly junk—old letters, tarnished trinkets, broken ceramic figurines. But then you open a wooden music box and your eyes immediately land on something shiny.

A brooch.

It’s in the shape of a raven, carved from some kind of dark metal, accompanied by a large red gemstone. The moment your fingers brush against it, the air in the attic grows thick. You can feel a chill crawl up your spine as you lift the brooch, turning it over in your hand, examining the beautiful craftsmanship.

That’s when you hear him.

"Put it back."

You whirl around, and there he is—Sylus. His red eye glows brighter than usual, flickering with barely contained agitation. His tall frame looms over you, his tail flicks behind him, tense, snapping in the air like a whip.

You freeze, the brooch still in your hand. "Why?" you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

"That doesn’t belong to you," Sylus growls. He takes a step closer. "Put it back in the box. Now."

Slowly, carefully, you place the brooch back into the wooden music box. The moment you do, you can feel the tension in the room ease. Sylus watches, his eyes never leaving the brooch until it's safely out of sight. His broad shoulders relax, his tail flicking behind him in a slower, more measured rhythm.

"Why does it matter so much?" you ask, genuinely curious.

He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze lingering on the closed music box. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, more guarded, as though he’s choosing his words carefully. "It was made for someone. No one should be touching it."

There’s a story there, buried deep beneath his cold exterior, but he’s not offering it to you.

You swallow, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. Your mind spins with possibilities, but you keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to pry further into something clearly painful. Instead, you glance at the music box, not daring to touch it again. Its melody feels strangely familiar. You pause, recognizing the tune—the same haunting melody you’ve heard in the dark, late at night.

"Is this… the song you’ve been humming?" you ask carefully, lifting your gaze to meet his.

His eyes narrow, but there’s no anger there. He doesn’t answer immediately, but after a long silence, he gives a short nod. "It is."

A soft breath escapes you, and you can’t help the small smile. "Well," you say, your tone a little lighter "you’re always off-key." The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a moment, you freeze, wondering if you’ve crossed a line—if teasing a demon was, perhaps, not your smartest move.

Sylus blinks, his expression unreadable at first, but then—he chuckles. The sound is rough, almost rusty, as though it’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to find humor in anything. "I didn’t know I had a critic," he mutters with a trace of amusement.

You let out a shaky breath, relieved, but still stunned by the sound of his laughter. You find yourself staring at Sylus, watching the way his red eyes soften, the way the usual predatory edge to him seems to dull, just for a moment. You don’t know what to say, but you don’t need to. Finally, Sylus breaks the silence, his voice quieter, less guarded than before. "Be careful with what you touch in this house," he says, though there’s no threat behind his words, only a quiet warning. "Not everything here belongs to you."

You nod, understanding more than he’s willing to say. "I didn’t mean to…" you trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, the faintest smile on his lips. "I know." And with that, he turns, his figure dissolving into the shadows of the attic, leaving you alone once more.

But this time, the air doesn’t feel so heavy. The mansion doesn’t feel so hostile.

And Sylus doesn’t feel like a demon lurking in the dark anymore.

For the first time, he feels like someone who’s been through more than you could possibly imagine. Someone who’s carrying the weight of loss and pain for centuries. And somehow, despite everything, you’ve seen a glimpse of something human in him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The days that followed felt different. The mansion, though still steeped in its eerie silence, seemed to breathe a little easier. Sylus, who had always been a constant, brooding presence in the shadows, began to make himself known in new ways. You would be working around the house—organizing a room, fixing up old furniture, unpacking boxes—and you’d feel him. A brush of air, the faintest warmth at your back.

He never fully revealed himself during the day, not at first. But there were brief moments, when you’d catch a glimpse of him—standing in the doorway, his red eye glowing faintly before he slipped away, or a flash of silver hair in the corner of your vision. And slowly, he started to help.

At first, it was subtle. You’d be struggling to move a piece of furniture, and when you turned around to grab something for leverage, it had already shifted into place, as if someone had pushed it for you. Tools you needed would be mysteriously laid out before you reached for them. And sometimes, when you lost track of time working on a project, you’d find a fire already lit in the fireplace before the chill of the evening would creep in.

One afternoon, you were standing on a chair in the kitchen, trying to reach a high cabinet when you suddenly lost your balance. Before you could even cry out, you felt strong hands on your waist, steadying you, with a firm grip. You turned to find Sylus standing there, his lips curled into that familiar smirk.

"Careful, kitten," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Kitten. The word caught you off guard, and you blinked at him. Something about the way he said it—so casually, yet with a hint of affection—left you speechless. He had called you ‘kitten’ like it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t mind the new nickname. Not at all.

The touches became more frequent, intentional. When you passed each other in narrow hallways, his hand would brush against your arm, or his fingers would trail along your back. Every touch would make your heart flutter, your cheeks heat up.

One evening, your muscles ached after hours of working tirelessly around the mansion. You sat by the fire, sipping tea in an attempt to relax. The room was quiet, except for the crackling of the fire, but then you felt it—his presence. Sylus was watching you from the doorway.

“You’ve been pushing yourself,” he said, his voice smooth like velvet. His eyes focused on your hand as it pressed against your shoulder, kneading the sore muscle.

“Maybe a little,” you replied, leaning back into the chair, letting your eyes close for just a second. “But I can handle it.”

Sylus chuckled softly. “You don’t always have to be so stubborn.” He leaned in closer, standing next to you. “Let me help.” His hand rested lightly on your shoulder, his touch warm.

For a moment, you hesitated, but the ache in your muscles urged you to accept. You gave a small nod and turned your back to him. He moved closer, his hands resting fully on your shoulders now. You could feel the strength in them through the thin fabric of your shirt. His fingers dug in gently, working into the tight muscles with a careful yet firm pressure. You let out a small sigh of relief, the tension starting to ease under his touch.

But then his hands moved more slowly, the pads of his fingers tracing over your skin in a way that felt… intimate. The soft kneading of your muscles became something more, his thumbs pressing into the knots in your back with expert precision. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, craving the release from the pain.

“You like that?” Sylus murmured, his voice low, teasing as his hands moved lower. Your breath hitched as his fingers worked their magic, easing the soreness out of your muscles. It was impossible to ignore the way his hands felt against your body, the way each touch made your skin tingle.

“You’re so tense,” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in.

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. His hands on your body, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all felt overwhelming. Every touch sent a spark of electricity through you, and though the massage had started innocently enough, there was no mistaking the shift in energy between you. As his hands moved lower, brushing dangerously close to your hips, you could feel the warmth pooling in your lower belly.

Flustered, you quickly pulled away, standing up from the chair before things could escalate any further. “Th-thank you for the massage,” you stammered. You could feel your face flushing and you didn’t dare look him in the eye.

Sylus leaned back slightly, his lips pulling into that knowing smirk. “Of course,”

You took a small step back. “I think I’ll just… take a hot bath before bed,” Without waiting for his response, you turned and made your way toward the bedroom. The heat in your cheeks only grew worse as you walked away, your legs feeling like they might give out from the mixture of embarrassment and the lingering effects of his touch. You felt his eyes on you, taking in every movement, the subtle sway of your hips as you retreated to the safety of your room.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The phone call left you feeling strange—half-flattered, half-disconnected. A friend of a friend, someone from your old life, asked you out on a date. You politely declined, giving some excuse about being too busy, about focusing on your new home. But that’s not entirely true. The call was a reminder of the life you left behind, and the strange new one you found here.

You sigh, setting the phone down and reaching for the bottle of wine you opened earlier. Pouring yourself a glass, you settle into the sofa and pick up a book. You sip the wine, letting the tension of the day slip away as you open the book. But it’s not quiet for long.

The air shifts, and before you even look up, you feel that familiar presence. Sylus arrives without a sound, as he always does.

With a smile, you lookup from your book. "Care to join me for a drink?" you ask as you raise your glass to him. Although you aren’t sure if demons even can drink.

He chuckles softly, his boots making the faintest sound as he crosses the room to stand beside you. "I haven’t tasted wine in centuries," he admits.

You tilt your head. "So you don’t eat? Or drink?"

Sylus shrugs, "I haven’t needed to," he says simply, but there is something in his tone—an almost wistful note. "I suppose I could try."

You laugh softly, offering him your glass. "Here, then. Let’s see if you still can."

Sylus hesitates for a moment, but then, with a slight shake of his head, he accepts your offer. He takes a small sip, tasting the wine before swallowing.

"Well?" you ask with a smile. "Can you taste it?"

Sylus’s lips curve into an amused smirk. "I can taste it," he says and takes another sip. He makes a face, mockingly disappointed, and returns the glass to you. "I think you should buy yourself something nicer," he teases. "This is a bit cheap."

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes. "Of course you have an expensive taste."

Sylus chuckles. But then, the relaxed expression changes to a serious one. "Who was on the phone earlier?"

You hesitate for a moment, your fingers tightening around your wineglass. "Just someone from my old life." Sylus raises an eyebrow, and you feel compelled to continue. “Asked me out on a date, but I declined.”

You avoid his gaze, but you can feel Sylus watching you. "Why did you decline?" he asks, his voice low. "You’ve been here for months. You don’t get out much. Why not say yes?"

You swallow, trying to gather your thoughts. The truth is too heavy, too tangled, and you aren’t ready to admit it, not even to yourself.

"You’re one to talk," you say raising an eyebrow and mustering a playful tone. "If anyone’s used to solitude, it’s you. You’ve been alone for centuries—I think I can manage a little bit of solitude for a few months."

“Touché.” he chuckles. His gaze turns towards the flickering flames of the fireplace, “But solitude… it wears on you. You might think it’s peace, but after a while, it starts to feel more like a cage.”

The words sink into you, unsettling. But, before you can respond, a question begins to form at the back of your mind, heavy and uncomfortable. Was he truly alone all this time? Were there others before you, drawn into the same dark intensity of his presence? What if this isn’t new for him—this attraction, this electricity between you? What if you’re just another fleeting distraction in the long centuries of his existence?

You can’t stand that thought. You want to believe that you’re different, that something about you has made him change, drawn him out of the shadows in ways no one else ever has. But the growing feeling of jealousy won’t let go. Because if he’s been like this before—if there had been others—then what does that make you?

You take a deep breath, shoving these feelings aside. You feel foolish for letting your mind even go there. The two of you are just co-existing, just roommates in a weird way.

You glance at the clock on the mantel. “Oh,” you say, your voice a little too bright, “look at the time. The movie I wanted to watch is about to start.” You grab the TV remote, as if turning on the television can stop the thoughts from spiraling out of control.

Sylus doesn’t miss your deflection. He never does. “Another distraction?” he asks. He could sense your agitation, your mind wandering somewhere.

You shoot him a look, but the teasing edge in his voice makes your heart flutter. “Do you want to watch it with me?” you ask, trying to sound casual. “It’s about to start. I know how much you love TV,” you add with a playful glance his way. You know how fascinated he is with television, even though he’ll never admit it.

Sylus arches an eyebrow, and for a moment, you think he might decline. But then he stands and settles beside you on the sofa. He’s close—too close.

“I suppose I can indulge you,” he says. “Though, if this movie’s as boring as the last one you picked, I can’t promise I’ll stay.” His arm rests casually along the back of the sofa, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, even though he’s not touching you.

You smirk, rolling your eyes as you flip through the channels until you find the movie. “I’m sure it’ll hold your attention, Sylus,” you shoot back, though your mind is still racing, the earlier doubts lingering in your mind.

The movie begins, and for the first few moments, everything seems normal. It’s a late-night thriller, with captivating plot and ominous music. You let yourself sink into the sofa, grateful for the distraction, but the comfort doesn’t last long. About halfway through, the movie takes an unexpected turn. The tension between the characters on screen snaps, and suddenly, they’re in a dimly lit bedroom, their bodies pressed together. The soft, breathy moans fill the room, while the scene of naked bodies rolls on the screen.

Your breath hitches, and you fumble for the remote, your fingers shaking slightly as you try to find the button to change the channel. “I didn’t know it would… turn into this,” you mutter, clearly flustered.

Sylus snatches the remote from your hands. “Don’t change the channel.” His eyes are on the screen, amusement plastered over his face. Heat floods your cheeks, your heart racing as the sounds from the screen grow more intimate. You can feel Sylus shifting beside you, his arm still resting along the back of the sofa, his fingers just inches from your shoulder.

You try to focus, try to steer your mind away from the images on the screen. And then the uncomfortable question shows its ugly head again.

Had there been someone else?

You’re not sure what you are to him. You’re not sure if you’re just another passing moment in his long, endless existence.

You can’t think about that. You need to clear your head.

Sylus laughs as a relieved sigh leaves your lips when the steamy scene ends, and you can’t help but laugh a little with him.

You make a mental note to call the man from earlier. You’ll call him in the morning, when Sylus is resting, and try to schedule the date after all. Maybe it’ll help clear your head, help you sort through the tangled mess of emotions that has built up since you moved into this mansion, since Sylus slithered his way into your life.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♪ ฅ₍ᓀ‸ᓂマ ੭ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The next day, you had avoided Sylus all morning, deliberately keeping yourself busy with small tasks that didn’t require much thought—dusting the bookshelves, scrubbing the kitchen counters, tending to the plants. But no matter what you did, you still felt him. Normally, you’d catch a glimpse of him here or there, a shadow slipping through the hallway or leaning against the doorway, finding any chance to tease you. But today, you avoided those moments, slipping out of rooms just before he appeared.

You tried to escape the gnawing feeling of guilt as well.

The call you’d made earlier in the morning had gone smoothly. The man had been more than happy to hear from her again. You agreed on the time and even though he was willing to pick you up, you insisted to meet at the restaurant. The conversation was light and sweet. But as soon as you hung up, a part of you regretted it. Even though you shouldn’t have.

After lunch, you retreated into the safety of your bedroom. You took your time getting ready —something you hadn’t done in a long time.The hours dragged on, and you continued to stay in your room, pacing, glancing at your reflection in the mirror - the tight dress is flattering, accentuating your curves. You set aside high heels that made your legs long and irresistible. You still had time to kill, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. You didn’t want to face Sylus. Not yet. The thoughts of last night still weighed heavily on you—the tension during the movie, the heat of his body next to yours, how you craved his touch.

Then, a knock at the door.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. Sylus never knocks. He never enters your bedroom, to give you some semblance of privacy.

"Are you alright?" You can hear genuine concern in his voice from the other side of the door. "You've been in there for a while."

You hesitate, heart racing. Part of you wants to tell him to go away, to keep the distance you’d been trying so hard to create today. But the sound of his voice makes your chest tighten. You swallow, steeling yourself before you answer.

"Come in." Why did you tell him to come in?

The door creaks open slowly, and as Sylus steps into the room, you can see the brief flash of surprise on his face—the way his red eyes widen as he takes you in. For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the way fabric of the dress clings to your body.

"Well," he finally says, his voice low. "I thought something was wrong… that you weren’t feeling well. Or that you were avoiding me."

There’s something about the way he says it, the flicker of concern behind his usual teasing, that touches you. You force a smile. "I wasn’t avoiding you," you lie. "I just… took my time to getting ready."

Sylus steps closer, his eyes over you again, savoring every detail. Then, his expression softens. "You look beautiful," he says, the words slipping from his lips with surprising tenderness.

The compliment stuns you. Of all the things you expected from him—teasing, possessiveness, maybe even anger—this was the last. You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stare back at him, unsure how to react.

He doesn’t let you recover, though. He steps even closer, his gaze holding yours, and he adds, "You always do."

His words are so sincere. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to find your voice, "Thank you," the words are barely audible, your heart still racing from the weight of his gaze.

Then his lips pull into that teasing smirk. "So, you are going on that date after all?"

You feel your stomach twist at his words. “Yes, I’m going on a date.”

Sylus steps closer, his towering form closing in on you with that familiar, quiet intensity. Your heart races as he moves forward, and instinctively, you step back. But he doesn’t stop. With each step he takes, you find yourself moving backward, the space shrinking, guiding you slowly toward the edge of your bed.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” he asks, his voice low and laced with that dangerous amusement.

You swallow, trying to stay composed. “You’re the one who suggested it,” you say, hoping that your words don’t betray the storm of emotions inside.

He smirks, clearly not fooled by your attempt to steer the conversation away. His gaze never leaves yours as he steps even closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, sending a shiver across your skin. “Is that so?” his tone is almost taunting, “If that’s what you want - to go out… to have fun with someone else… then you should.”

His words hang in the air, but the way he says it—the challenge, the possessiveness barely veiled—makes it feel like anything but permission. His fingers trace down from your cheek, slowly grazing your jawline before trailing to your throat, where they rest lightly, just enough to make your pulse race under his touch. But it’s the way his tail moves—sliding up the back of your leg, curling around your thigh—that sends a wave of heat flooding through you. It lingers there, teasing, the smooth, firm pressure making your legs tremble.

“You can say the word,” he whispers, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes your lips, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. “If you want me to stop, to keep my distance… just say it.”

His tail continues its slow, deliberate trail over your skin. The air feels thick, suffocating, as you stand there, torn between your desire for something normal, and the undeniable pull of the dark, dangerous connection between you and him.

The silence stretches, thick with tension as Sylus waits, his lips so close to yours. His gaze locks onto yours, waiting, daring you to speak. But your throat is dry, your breath caught somewhere between fear and desire, and no words come. You can’t say it. You don’t want him to stop. And Sylus knows it.

"You’re not stopping me," he murmurs. His tail tightens its grip on your thigh, its smooth length curling higher, the teasing pressure sending a wave of arousal through your body.

Your knees buckle, your body trembling under the weight of his presence. You stumble, falling back onto the bed, but before you can even react, Sylus’ hands are there—gripping your waist, guiding you down gently so the landing is soft. The bed creaks as he follows, his hands and knees resting on either side of you, caging you in.

His eyes are dark and hungry as they roam over your body, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the way your lips part in anticipation. His hand slides up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip, teasing, making you crave more.

"You belong to me," Sylus whispers. With that, he finally closes the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a slow kiss. In that moment, everything else falls away—the date, the outside world, the fear of what’s happening between you. All that matters is Sylus.

The kiss deepens, your body melting into the bed as Sylus’ lips press harder against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips, swirling with yours leaving you breathless. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. Your hands are buried in his silver locks, trembling as his kiss grows hungrier, more urgent. But before you can pull him closer, Sylus breaks the kiss. Slowly, he reaches down, his fingers grazing the straps of your dress and bra before tugging them down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He slides one hand up, gripping both of your wrists in a firm, yet careful hold. He lifts your hands, pinning them above your head against the soft sheets.

"Do you trust me?" he asks with softness in his voice.

The question catches you off guard. You swallow hard, your throat tight as you whisper, "Yes."

Sylus’ eyes flicker with a flash of satisfaction, and before you can process what’s happening, the space around your wrists tightens. You glance up and see the dark tendrils of magic winding around your wrists, binding them together. The energy pulses softly, not painful, but firm—like his touch. Your pulse quickens as you realize just how vulnerable you are beneath him, your body completely at his mercy. Sylus takes in the sight beneath him, and you can feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

Without another word, he leans down, his lips capturing one of your nipples, his tongue swirling over the sensitive peak. His mouth is hot, teasing, as he licks and sucks at your breast, his hand squeezing the other, rolling the hardened nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure to make you whimper.

As his mouth works your breast, his tail slides up beneath your dress, the smooth length teasing the inside of your thighs. You shudder at the sensation, your body twitching in anticipation as the tip of his tail finally finds its way to your panties, grazing over the damp fabric.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you," he murmurs, his tail pressing just a little harder against your panties, making you gasp. "So wet already…" The smirk on his lips widens as his tail continues to tease you, the sensation maddening as he presses against your swollen clit through the fabric. Without warning, he pulls the bottom of your dress up over your hips, exposing your lace panties to his hungry gaze. His eyes flicker with a brief flash of jealousy at the sight of the lacy fabric, but then a different look takes over—pride. He is the one who gets to take them off, the one who has you like this.

"Pretty," he says with a teasing edge as his fingers brush over the fabric before gripping the waistband. "But I think I prefer you without these." His tail slides aside, giving way to his hands as he hooks his fingers under the lace and slowly peels your panties down, leaving you bare and exposed to his gaze.

The moment Sylus’ fingers slide between your folds and feel how wet you are, his breath hitches. He can feel the throbbing need building inside him, but he keeps himself steady. He will not lose control. Not yet. A wicked smirk plays on his lips as he teases you, his fingers gliding lightly over your entrance, brushing against your clit just enough to send shocks of pleasure through you. You whine, your hips bucking instinctively against his touch.

"Please," you whisper, your voice breaking with desperation, your wrists still bound above your head as you tug uselessly against the restraints. The heat between your legs is unbearable, and every teasing stroke of his fingers makes it worse.

Sylus leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he coos softly. "Tell me what you need," His fingers continuing their torturous, feather-light touches. "I want to hear you say it."

Your body trembles beneath him, and for a moment, you hesitate, the embarrassment battling with the overwhelming need. But the feel of his fingers stroking you, teasing you, is too much, and your voice wavers as you whisper, "I… I need you inside me. Please."

The smirk on his lips widens. "Good girl." He leans back, straightening up, and in one fluid motion, he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His body is incredible—broad, muscular shoulders leading down to a strong, toned chest and perfectly defined abs. You can’t tear your eyes away as Sylus’ hands moved to the waistband of his pants, the motion enhancing the muscles and veins of his arms. His gaze never leaves yours as he slowly pulls down his pants and underwear, just enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen at the sight of it—thick, long, and already leaking with precum. The sheer size of him makes your heart race with a mix of excitement and nervousness, and for a moment, doubt creeps in. ‘How am I going to take that?’ you swallow hard as you look up at him.

Sylus notices the flicker of worry in your eyes, and a smug grin tugs at the corners of his lips. "Don’t worry," his voice is laced with amusement as he wraps his hand around his length, stroking himself slowly. His eyes lock onto yours as he kneels between your legs, his fingers sliding back down between your thighs, teasing your dripping pussy again. "I know you can take it"

Sylus positions himself between your legs, his eyes fixed on you as he lines himself up with your entrance. His cock presses against your slick folds, the thick head nudging inside, eliciting a whimper from your lips. You’re trembling, but the weight of his body and the heat radiating off him keep you anchored.

“Relax, darling,” his voice is soothing as he strokes your thigh. His gaze is soft as he watches your reactions.

Slowly, carefully, he pushes forward, easing himself inside. The stretch makes you gasp. It stings, just a little, but there’s a dizzying pleasure that follows it, a heat that courses through you as he fills you inch by inch. Your breath is shallow, and you squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by how full you feel, how intense it is.

“Angel,” Sylus growls softly, his voice thick with desire as he pauses, halfway in, letting your body adjust to the stretch. “Look at me.”

You bite your lip, too lost in the sensation to bring yourself to open your eyes. That’s when you feel his hand slide up to your neck with a firm grip, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Eyes on me,” he orders, his voice soft but commanding, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. “I want to watch your face as I slide inside you. I want to see how beautiful you look.”

Your eyes flutter open, and the intensity of his gaze nearly steals your breath. His red eyes burn with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something more tender. His fingers tighten slightly around your neck, just enough to keep you grounded, to keep you focused on him. He’s watching you closely as he pushes in deeper, sinking further inside you.

You’re a whimpering mess by the time Sylus finally bottoms out. The stretch makes your head spin, tears prick at the corners of your eyes, spilling over as you gasp beneath him. Sylus notices the tears almost immediately. His gaze softens and his thumb moves from your neck to gently wipe them away, the pads of his fingers tender against your flushed cheeks.

“Shh, darling,” His thumb swipes over your skin, catching a tear before it falls. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good, taking me so perfectly.”

His words send a shiver through you, and despite the ache and the fullness, there’s something comforting about his touch, the way he speaks to you. His thumb lingers on your cheek for just a second longer, before he shifts his grip to your waist, pulling you tighter against him. His hips draw back slightly, the head of his cock dragging against your inner walls, sending a shock of pleasure through you.

Sylus groans softly, his voice catching as he feels your slick walls gripping him. He holds himself still for a moment, trying to stay in control, but the truth is, he’s so close to losing it. This is the first time he’s done this since becoming a demon—since being cursed with his immortal body—and the sensation of being inside you, of your tight, wet heat surrounding him, is almost too much. He can’t tell you that, can’t admit that you are the one in control.

He starts to move, his thrusts slow at first, almost careful, but the way your pussy clenches around him makes it impossible for him to hold back. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he thrusts into you, each motion sending ripples of pleasure through your body. “Fuck,” he growls, his voice strained as his hips snap forward again, harder this time. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so good, so fucking good…”

He’s too close, and before he can stop himself, the pleasure overtakes him. After only a few more short, sharp thrusts, he pulls out suddenly, his cock throbbing as hot spurts of cum splash across the skin of your belly.

You’re stunned for a moment. You did not expect him to finish so quickly.

Sylus’ chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes glinting with a mixture of satisfaction and frustration. He glances down, where his release glistens on your skin, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something like embarrassment in his eyes. He should’ve expected for you to have such an effect on him.

But even as he catches his breath, his cock is still hard. Without a word, he reaches down, his fingers gripping his length, and he guides himself back to your entrance. Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s doing, the lingering warmth of his release still fresh on your skin as he presses the head of his cock against you again. He watches your reaction closely as he slowly pushes back inside you, the wetness of his release mixing with your own arousal as he fills you once more. “I’m not done with you.”

The stretch feels even more intense the second time, your body still sensitive from his earlier thrusts, and a gasp escapes your lips as he slides inside, burying himself deep again. His hips snap against yours, his cock sliding in and out of you with a rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you closer, deeper with every thrust.

Sylus’ tail snakes around your waist, the smooth, firm length of it tightening as it pulls you flush against him, keeping you pinned beneath his body. His hand moves to your throat again, fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of his control. The pressure sends a thrill through you, intensifying every sensation as he picks up the pace. Each thrust drives him deeper, the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over, making your body tremble with pleasure.

You try to turn your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but Sylus doesn’t let you hide. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to command your attention, as he growls softly, "Look at me, darling."

His fingers slide between your thighs, finding your swollen clit with a precision that sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You’re overwhelmed by the sensation of his thick cock filling you completely, the wet heat of your bodies moving together in sync, and the relentless pressure on your clit. It’s too much, all of it—too intense, too good, too consuming. You try to close your eyes, desperate to escape the intensity of his gaze, but Sylus isn’t having it.

“I said, look at me,” His tail winds tighter around your waist, anchoring you in place. His hips snap against yours, faster, harder, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, forcing broken moans from your lips. The fingers move faster, rougher on your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your eyes flutter open, locking onto his. You’re teetering on the brink, every nerve in your body on fire. His thick cock slams into you harder, deeper, his fingers relentless on your clit, and your body surrenders completely.

Sylus watches you—his breath ragged, muscles taut, holding back just enough, waiting for you. His hand stays firm on your throat, keeping you grounded, his fingers pushing you towards your peak. He can feel it in the way your walls flutter around his cock, squeezing tighter, and it drives him wild.

"Come for me," he growls, his voice thick with command.

His words are all it takes. Pleasure slams into you, stealing your breath as your body tightens around him. Every pulse, every clench makes the orgasm crash through you in waves so intense that all you can do is cry out, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Your back arches off the bed, but Sylus is there, his hands and tail keeping you pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy. You're helpless, lost in the dizzying sensation, and he holds you tight, letting you ride out every wave.

“That’s it,” he groans, his restraint slipping as he feels you clench around him, your body milking him with every pulse. His voice is rough, almost desperate now. “Just like that, angel. Just like that.”

As you come down from your high, your breath still shaky, you feel the tension of Sylus’ magic keeping your wrists bound above your head. You tug weakly against the restraints, wanting to touch him, to feel his skin beneath your hands, your body aching for the closeness.

“Sylus,” you whisper, your voice soft and hoarse from the intensity of it all, “please… I want to touch you.”

Without hesitation, the dark tendrils of magic around your wrists fade, releasing you. Your arms fall limply to your sides, trembling with exhaustion. But it only takes a moment before you reach up, wrapping your arms around Sylus’ neck, pulling him down into a tight, desperate embrace. The second your hands grip him, your lips find his in a messy, breathless kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating, the heat of his body pressing down on yours offering you comfort.

Sylus groans against your mouth, his hips moving in slow, languid motions, drawing out every ounce of pleasure. His cock fills you completely, each gentle thrust making your body shudder beneath him. His grasp on your hip is almost bruising, his fingers digging into your skin as though holding on to you is the only thing keeping him grounded. But his other hand is soft, cradling the back of your neck with tender care, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

His lips barely pull away from yours between frantic kisses. "Where... where can I finish?" His voice is strained, and his hips falter for a moment. You can feel the way his body trembles with the effort of holding back. His thrusts begin to quicken, each thrust hitting deeper, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

"Inside," you whisper breathlessly, your voice trembling as your hands tug him closer. "Do whatever you want... I'm yours."

Something in Sylus snaps at your words. His thrusts grow erratic, his body trembling as he reaches his peak, and with one final, deep thrust, he lets go. His release hits him hard, his cock pulsing inside you as he spills, groaning into your neck as the pleasure crashes over him. His grip on you tightens for a moment before his movements slow, his breath heavy and uneven.

As he rides out his high, his lips find yours again, kissing you softly. His hips slow to a gentle, rolling motion, drawing out the last waves of pleasure, but never pulling away. His hand cradles the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin, while his other hand loosens its hold on your hip, stroking your skin as if to apologize for the bruises he left behind.

"Mine," he whispers against your lips. His forehead rests gently against yours, and you can feel his breath mingling with yours in the stillness that follows. You realize there’s no need for words. Wrapped in his arms, with his silent affection surrounding you, you know this is where you belong.

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d0rothydraws · 5 months ago

Text

"Your eyes lit up when you seen my hand. It's dangerous to reveal what you like so easily."

content: f!reader, hand kink, blindfold, mating press, cum play, dirty talk, choking,

w/c: 3k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This is so depraved. I was messing with him last night and he said that line and then the blindfold one and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Buckle up princess

You were laying on the couch as Sylus was cleaning his gun. You were trying to read, for a change. Pick up an old hobby yadda yadda. And you were doing well, it was interesting enough until you became heavily distracted. You tried to not make it obvious. You didn't want to stare too long to catch his attention. But little did you know, you already had his attention at the first glance.

"Something on your mind, sweetie?" Sylus' voice was like ice through your veins. Invigorating but so sudden you almost flinched. "You keep staring." He said, not hiding the smirk as he continued to use the cloth to rub against his gun. The way his long fingers tensed as the gun repositioned, how his thumb brushed against the side every few minuets.

Your silence was telling as you tightened your grip on your book, readjusting your position on the couch slightly before looking back into the pages blankly. "I can see you moving your hand in my peripheral. It's distracting." You lied. His smirk grew as he leaned back slightly, his hand still lazily cleaning the weapon.

"Keep lying and you'll grow wrinkles."

"You sound like a mother." You snorted as you turned the page in an effort to act like you had been reading for the last thirty minuets.

"Fine, I would hate to distract you." He said in a mocking tone as he sat down the gun, moving to the couch as he sat on the edge. You moved your feet to his lap, stretching out on him. He moved to turn on the tv, putting on some old movie.

In a move to supposedly distract you less, you were even more distracted as his hand rested on your leg, tracing patterns and shapes idly. He could feel your leg twitch once in a while as you took a deep breath. You wondered how long you could keep up the charade.

"You haven't turned the page in 20 minutes." He said, glancing at you as he met your eyes over the book. "I'll tell you what. You tell me what's on your mind, and I won't bully you for it. Deal?" He said with a half laugh, those damn fingers still trailing the inside of your leg.

"I somehow don't believe you." You mutter before finally closing the book and setting it aside. Your eye glanced at his hand for a second too long before a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Your eyes lit up when you seen my hand. It's dangerous to reveal what you like so easily." His voice had a playful tone to it, his eyes locking on yours. "Anything to say for yourself, kitten?"

"Can you blame me? You have nice hands," You said bluntly, sitting up against the arm of the couch as you crossed your arms. Sylus, not expecting you to be so casual about it, had the faintest look of surprise in his eye before his normal smug look returning.

"So you have a thing for my hands, hm?" He said "Why don't we take this a step further." He said before standing, holding a hand out to you. You felt your heart in your throat as you took his hand in yours letting him lead you to the bedroom.

"Sit. I'm going to look for something. But while I'm gone, undress." He said sternly with a smirk on his face, drawing out the last word. You obliged, not knowing what he was planning but you knew it would be worth it. It's always worth it when it him.

As he returned he was holding a thick silk ribbon. His eyes looked over your naked body as if you were his prey before stopping in front of you. His hand moved to cup your chin, making you look up at him. You shivered as you felt the ribbon tickle your neck.

"Very good kitten, you can follow simple instructions. I'm proud of you." He said in a sarcastic tone that made your cheeks burn. "Since you love my hands so much, we're going to heighten your senses so you can feel exactly what they're going to do to you."

As he moved the silk around your eyes, darkness enveloped your sight. In moments, you understood what he meant. His scent was stronger. The sound of his voice stronger. His touch..

You felt as he guided you to lay on the bed, the mattress soft around your body as you sighed slightly. The sound of familiar clothes falling made your ears perk as you tried to listen to where he was. Soon there was no question as you felt the bed dip, the brush of his leg against yours. He was over you, you could tell by how strong his scent was. How heat practically radiated from him with each arms on the side of your body holding him above you as his lips moved to your ear.

"Can you feel it? This is only the beginning." He whispered as his lips moved over your shoulder. Hands moved to brush hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. The moment was fleeting as his hand went southward, cupping your breast.

You knew his hands well, but feeling them like this was a different experience. His hands were rough, the mark of his life long fight for survival. His decades of using weapons, fighting. You could feel every callous in his fingertips as they sunk into the soft flesh of your chest. His hands were massive, everything about him was big but it was even more noticeable when you could only go off feeling.

Your eyes widened under the silk band, still as dark as ever as you felt his tongue against your other breast. Your mouth opened in a gasp as your nipple was brought past his teeth, pulling gently at the nub that hardened instantly. As his hand bounced and felt up your one breast, his lips and mouth worked the other. Every touch, kiss, bite, it sent pleasure through your body. You felt as if your body was in an abyss, only able to feel and hear him.

You didn't know how long passed. Time didn't exist anymore. He pulled back his lips, your nipple stretching slightly before he released you from his mouth. His hands moved lower, thumbs brushing the curve of your ribcage as he looked down at you, enjoying the look of your parted lips, the way your cheeks burned under the blindfold.

One hand rested on the curve of your waist as you felt the other one move back up, drawing fingers over the length of your neck as if he knew the answer to his next question.

"Tell me, kitten." He said, his voice next to your ear suddenly making your breath catch. His words echoing in the abyss of your mind. "Where do you want my hands next?" He knew the answer. But he wanted to hear you say it. Hear the breathiness in your voice as you responded.

"My neck." You breathed, your own voice sounding so loud in your head. "I want to feel them on my neck." You couldn't stop the shakiness of your words, how needy you sounded. Your mouth was watering and yet felt so dry at the same time.

"Good kitten." He purred, the sound moving down your spine as your felt both of his hands graze your neck. His thumbs brushed the pulse point, his fingers circling gently around the entirety of your neck. "Your heart is beating so fast for me." He whispered as he gently applied pressure. The palms of his hand pressing just right into your neck.

One of his hands moved from your neck, thumb trailing your chin as the other repositioned to continue to apply pressure. He was always careful to not hurt you. Especially when dealing with such a vital part of your being. His thumb pressed against the bottom of your lip, your mouth opening slightly as a reaction. One that he was very pleased with.

Sylus' hand on your neck held you with a firm grip, feeling your pulse against his fingers as your breath started to strain. And even as you began to struggle to breathe, you flicked your tongue out over the thumb at the edge of your lips. You heard him take a sharp breath before pushing his thumb against your tongue. His grip on your neck released slowly, the oxygen entering your lungs almost hurt as you took a deep breath before pulling his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"Want a taste?" He said as he felt your tongue brush against his fingers. His eyes watched your lips as his fingers disappeared past your lips. Your teeth grazed his rough skin, making him groan softly.

His legs pushed your knees apart as his other hand trailed down your stomach and past your hips. You moan was muffled by his hand as his fingers suddenly pressed against your sex, your back arching into him as your mouth opened more. You could hear how wet you had become just from the touches he had given you. Your body welcomed his fingers as two entered you, your moans growing louder as his hand moved out of your mouth. His now wet fingers trailing down your chin, past your neck and to your chest again leaving a trail that made you shiver.

"Maybe I should keep you like this." He breathed, voice growing huskier as he watched you wither under him. Clenching around his fingers as he moved them slow. He wanted you to feel every curve, every inch of his fingers inside you. And as his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad adding much wanted stimulation, you cried out, head arching back. As you felt your body start to reach it's peak, the movement stopped and suddenly you were empty. You whined, gasping as you started to sit up in protest when he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with one hand.

"I'm not done with you yet, sweetie." He said, his lips brushing over yours, breath hot against your mouth as his hand flexed against your wrists. You felt the wetness of the other hand trail down the insides of your thighs making your legs shake. His kiss was deep, stealing the breath from your lungs. Teeth pulled at your lip before his tongue moved against yours. You kissed back just as eagerly as you arched against his hold on you, moaning as you felt him only just push you back down onto the bed.

His fingers pushed back inside you, his kisses was getting hungrier as you moved your hips against his hand. He pulled back with a growl, panting softly. "That's it kitten. Fuck the hand you love so much. Tell me sweetie, how often do you think about them?"

Your moan echoed as you felt his fingers curl, a third finger making you arch against him as you felt yourself stretch around the thick fingers.

"Every day." You answered, your voice sounded foreign to your ears. Your head turned as you moaned crying out as he stopped moving his fingers making you thrust yourself against them. "Especially when you wear rings. Or use your gun." His teeth nipped at your ear as his knees spread your legs farther apart as you fucked yourself on his fingers. You were close again. And you were praying to any god that would listen that he would let you cum.

None of them answered though as his hand pulled away again. Frustration was beginning to build as you cried out, whimpering as you tried to follow his hand with your hips, feeling so empty without him inside you.

"You've been doing so good kitten. Don't misbehave now." He teased with a soft chuckle as you found the hand on your lips. You could smell your own scent as you coated his fingers that pushed into your mouth. You moaned around him, your own taste making you blush. "Maybe I should let you pick out some rings for me, then. Or perhaps a new pair of gloves. I notice you tend to blush when I wear the leather ones." He said, his voice tense as you cleaned his fingers.

Distracted by the feeling of your own taste, fingers in your mouth, lips on your ear and hands still pinned above your head, you failed to register the feeling of his cock against your thigh. Not until you felt him begin to enter you, your body feeling like it was being shocked with electricity as you heard his groan against your ear. His hand left your mouth, trailing down again to your throat as he once again wrapped around you but didn't apply pressure. Not yet.

He let you feel every inch of him as he pushed his hips deeper and deeper. His cock stretching you out as your legs shook. You felt him throb inside you, twitch as you clenched around him. And then, as he started to slowly thrust, his hips moving slowly as the room filled with the sound of sex, then he applied that much craved pressure.

Every pore, every atom in your body craved him. He wasn't a want. He was a need. As he pulled out, before he could thrust back in you moved your legs, using your body to gain momentum as you slid down the bed a few inches. catching him off guard, his hand holding your wrists loosened as you forced him deeper into you. Putting yourself at an angle where your legs were nearly above your head, yourself on display. You heard a breathy groan, his breath becoming heavy, strained as the hand on your throat tightened.

"Fuck." He whispered, thrusting back into you. A hand moved to the back of your thigh, pushing your legs farther as he started to fuck you harder. "You're a slut, you know that?" He growled, his hand moving from your throat to your chin as he kissed you roughly, the angle pinning you to the bed completely as he fucked you as deep as he could.

Your body twitched as you screamed in pleasure against the kiss. Your entire body swam with pleasure as you felt him fuck into you as if his life depended on it. His thrusts started to become uneven, his moans heavier as he broke the kiss, biting your lip before he pulled away.

"I'm going to fill you up, sweetie. That's what you want, isn't it?" He said, moaning into your neck. "Then I'm going to make you fuck my hand again."

His words pushed you over the edge as you cried out, your body shaking as you felt yourself clench around him as you released, the coil growing in your core snapping. Sylus moaned, feeling you clamp around him which in turn made him cum deep inside you. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, your legs going numb as you moaned and twitched, your hand curling in his hair as you pulled him into a needy kiss.

Slowly he pulled out, breaking the kiss as he watched as his cum leaked out of you. He continued to hold your legs over your head as like he promised, his fingers entered you, pushing his cum back inside with a thick wet sound. You moaned, gasping. He let your hands moved over his body, hearing your moan as you blindly touched his arms, palms moving over his biceps. Moving to his chest your nails and fingers touched him making him moan faintly. You felt your pussy clamp around his fingers, you felt his cum ooze out of you more as he growled softly.

"Keep doing that and I'll have to fill you up again." He growled and you whimpered gasping. Your breath heavy as you felt your body overwhelmed by sensations. His thumb pushed against your clit, his fingers curling inside you as you were spiraled into another orgasm.

Your body arched off the bed as you cried out his name, body shaking as the wave crashed over you. His hand didn't stop, continuing until you were done twitching before he pulled his hand away, slowly helping you put your legs back down on the bed. He pulled you close against him, his fingers once again at your lips as you cleaned the mixture of fluids off of his hand for one last time.

"Keep your eyes closed, let your eyes adjust first." He said softly as he reached to untie the blindfold slowly. His voice warm like a blanket over your numb body. As the silk fell you could see the reflection of oranges and shadows against the inside of your eyelids. You slowly blinked your eyes open, quickly finding his looking down at you. Such a warm expression compared to the things he just did to you.

His lips gently pressed against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing against your lip. As he pulled away his nose brushed against yours, looking into your eyes.

"Later, feel free to use my card to buy some new rings for me. I do quite like your taste." He said as he watched you blush and then he chuckled. "Oh, you thought I was kidding? No, sweetie. I want to give you even more of a reason to be captivated by my hands."

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds #hands #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #sylus fanfic

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