જ⁀➴ ✉︎ pairing: sylus x sentimental!reader | tags + warnings: no y/n, light angst, fluff, you cry cause you love him, fem!reader, mentions of death, anniversary date, drabble | wc: 986
sylus didn't mean to make you cry.
he really didn't.
but he should've known better. should've known that his sweet, sentimental girlfriend would be extra sensitive the night of your anniversary. and that his passing thought, which was terribly bittersweet, should not have been shared aloud.
the two of you are perched near the edge of a cliff. you are sitting on a blanket sylus had luke and kieran prepare, huddled into his side like you're trying to extract his warmth.
the sun sets gently over the horizon, and when you look over, sylus' face is painted in the softest golden glow.
a gentle breeze passes by. sylus, with his arm around your figure, pulls you closer.
you hide a smile and snuggle deeper into his side.
"this is perfect."
the words slip from you before you give them a second thought. because despite waking up to a pile of gifts and a freshly made breakfast, despite sylus planning an entire day revisiting places important to the two of you, and despite the loving adoration that lingers in his gaze every time he regards you today, you think you would trade it all away if you could bottle this very moment and keep it forever.
sylus traces his hand up and down your arm. you feel the rise and fall of his chest as your head presses against it.
you look up at him. his eyes are pointed toward the sunset, and you observe the softness on his face, one that only exists when met with your presence.
sylus is beautiful. you wonder if he regards this moment as highly as you do. if he is also trying to immortalize what has not passed.
sensing your curiosity, his red eyes glance down.
and god, he would never admit it, but the way you're looking up at him nearly makes him sink into the ground. he is, perhaps, one of the most dangerous men in the world. but even sylus is rendered helpless when at your mercy.
some combination of your bright eyes and the flush of this proximity overtakes him. the fact that the two of you have spent so many hours celebrating each other. the hope of having an entire lifetime to bask in.
"what are you thinking about?" you ask him. because you are curious, what with the way his eyes search yours as if looking for something. a promise maybe. a forever.
"how many sunsets do you think we have left together?"
the calm haze that was overtaking you suddenly dissipates. he continues, "every sunset we see is one closer to our last."
sylus says this like fact. like he is merely commenting on the angle of the sun or the clouds in the sky, "so, how many do you think?"
you blink. he keeps looking down at you, and you can tell he's genuinely asking. the redness of his eyes stare straight into your soul.
it isn't that you've never considered this. but to hear sylus say it? to verbalize that one day, in the distant or not-so-distant future, that what the two of you have might be severed by- well, by death?
you can't even imagine it. you don't want to, but brief scenes flash through your head regardless.
you, reaching across the bed only to find it cold and empty.
you, tending to your own injuries without a hand to hold or a voice of worry.
you, clutching at his clothing trying to preserve remnants of his scent, one that fades even when he is gone for a few days.
and then you imagine it the other way.
sylus, returning home to silence.
sylus, becoming careless in battle, without a face to fight for.
sylus, falling victim to every destructive tendency he tries his best to stop.
these brief figments of imagination are all it takes for the tears to start rolling down your cheeks.
sylus' expression quickly contorts to worry as he brings his hands up to wipe them away.
"why are you crying, kitten?"
his brows furrow as if he actually doesn't understand the magnitude of the question he just asked.
"i don't want you to die," you say. and then you bury your face fully in his chest, undoubtedly leaving a newly formed tear-stain.
at this, he only lets out an amused scoff. you can feel the air leave his chest, "i'm not going to die, sweetie."
your words are muffled as you speak into his chest. you can't look at him now because you'll only cry more, "but you just said this might be our last sunset together."
"you're twisting my words. i was being..." he pauses to think about his choice of word, "reflective."
"you were being sad."
of course sylus doesn't want his sweet girl crying, but the pout in your voice is almost too cute for him to bear. he brings his hand up to rub your back and comfort you.
"i would never die on you," he says, voice soft with sincerity. he shifts back so he can cup your face in his hands. then he forces you to look into his eyes. and in his own, morbid way, "i'll make sure you die first, so you don't have to live a moment without me."
this almost makes you laugh.
you sniffle, "but what about you when i die? i don't want you to be sad."
the corner of his lip quirks upward. he presses his forehead against yours. your breaths intertwine themselves, and he holds you like he is taking in every sensation of the moment. memorizing the way you exist by his side.
"i'll be happy i was there for you until the very end."
sylus is devoted to you with all his being, and his words bring a comfort you didn't know you needed.
but despite it being his best effort to soothe you, they also bring more tears.
જ⁀➴ ✉︎ author's note: tell me why i almost cried writing this. shoutout to my sylus plushie that was sitting on my desk while i wrote this.
⁀➴☕︎ | Papa!Sylus does not tolerate disrespect towards his wife
Based on this ask! Hope you enjoy<3
You're gently clipping kitten clips through your daughter's hair when your son barrels into her room. Wordlessly, he starts upturning the pillows on her bed, patting around the comforter before he moves on and starts looking through her nightstand.
"What are you looking for, hon?" You ask him, squeezing your daughter's cheeks and grinning the same grin she got from you back at her in the mirror "Do you like it?" You whisper to her, to which she nods happily.
"My..." He's too focused on scrounging through her drawer to properly answer before he gives up, shutting the drawer with a bang and startling the both of you "My bike keys. Have you seen them?"
Delicately upturning your daughter's face till she's looking at you, you coo at her "Have you seen the keys, baby?" When she giggles, you're laughing with her as you coo at her "No, I don't think you have"
"Mom" Your son sounds exasperated and you finally focus back on him, standing in the middle of the room, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor in clear agitation.
"You really thought your baby sister hid them?" You ask incredulously "What did the twins say?"
"They haven't seen it" He's pacing now before he stops by her playpen, upturning the plushies and toys in pursuit of his keys "Wouldn't put them above hiding it here though" He mutters under his breath but the words carry over to you anyway.
You set your daughter down who immediately crawls over to her big brother at a rapid pace, happily babbling as she reaches him, pulling at his jeans "Why are you looking for them anyway? Don't you remember you lost all bike privileges last month?"
Your son finally stands straighter, sighing "Dad obviously didn't mean that. He's always saying stuff..." Looking around for other possible hiding spots, he trails off "... that he doesn't mean"
You cross the room to where he's now set his eyes on your daughter's dressing table, gently grabbing his arm and turning him to face you "You've just stopped limping. You really need a break from riding your bike"
"The Doc cleared me for driving already" Huffing, he's still eyeing the dresser and clearly distracted wondering whether his troublemaker brothers really hid his keys in their sister's mansion of a room.
"We've not cleared you yet" You emphasize softly "The last incident could've been a lot worse and you know it"
Groaning because he believes he's tried to get through to you guys thousands of times over this, your son runs his hands through his stark white hair. Unlike his father, his crimson orbs run cold "But it wasn't" He stresses as he picks your daughter up and carefully places her in her crib.
"We're not going to sit around and wait for when it will be" You let him go and step back, immediately rearranging the stuff and picking up the toys he'd tossed around "You will only get your bike privileges back after you've proved to us that you're responsible enough to handle it"
You're too busy clearing up the space that you don't notice he's stopped moving around now, his face twisting into one of restrained irritation as he looks at you "You did it" He accuses "You took my keys"
"Yes" You straighten up now, returning a fallen plushie back to its correct position "Short of trashing your bike, this was the only method to get you to stop and consider the consequences"
"Consequences?" He repeats, incredulity clear on his sharp features, ones he inherited from his father "I walked around with a cane for two weeks, Mom. You really think I don't know what the consequences are?"
Sighing, you finally turn to face him "No. You don't. Not if you're already itching to go again. Your driving is rash and unsafe, for other people on the road but especially for you. Until you learn that, you can commute with your brothers"
He scoffs at that, as if the very notion is unthinkable "Just give me a bicycle at this rate"
"That can be arranged" You tell him but at his thunderstruck expression, you sigh again "Darling, I know that this sucks but this is for your own good"
"What? Taking any shred of freedom I have away from me?"
Raising three teenage boys with a penchant for danger and adrenaline was not easy at all. Especially with your patience stretched thin between their antics "Taking your freedom would be grounding you for your recklessness after the state we found you in, but the most we're doing is taking your bike away. Don't make me regret it"
Even his sister's incoherent babbling and happy squeaks is not enough to distract him as he stands there, fuming. Reigning your own irritation in, you cross the room to him finally and caress his arm as you give him your best placating smile "If you show us that you can be responsible in the next few weeks, you'll get your keys back faster than you know"
He's quiet, unresponsive for a few moments as you squeeze his arm to cheer him up but then his quiet voice carries over "Just because you sacrificed your freedom to be with Dad, the rest of us also need to be subjected to the same punishment?"
Your hand falls off his arm as you take a step back. It was true. To be with your husband had meant giving up a lot of things. But you'd never let that translate into your children being subjected to a life of hiding, having to give up the opportunity to be raised like other children. For him to accuse you of that when you'd bent over backwards to make their lives as uneventful and normal as you could, made your heart sink. Did your children really feel this way?
You're still trying to keep your anger at bay and compose yourself as you try to form a response. Your son stiffens next to you, back going ramrod straight as if bracing for impact.
"Speak to my wife that way again and you'll find out what a life without freedom really looks like"
Sylus' voice is so low it sends shivers running through you when you feel him come up behind you. He bypasses you completely, going straight for your son and leaning close till he was eyelevel "You're not disrespecting just your mother here, you've disrespected my wife. Don't you know what I do to those who scorn her?"
Your son can't bear to hold eye contact, looking nervous and lowering his gaze as Sylus whispers something to him. You're watching how his entire body goes rigid in fear as his father steps back "All this for your bike?"
He's too scared to respond, you can tell. You step up to his side to explain but your husband is not having it "Sylus-"
"No" He gently interrupts, before turning back to his son and tossing his keys at him, not as playfully as he usually would "The kid wants a ride? He's going to get one. Meet me in the garage in five minutes"
Your son slides an apprehensive look towards you and is about to leave when Sylus' low voice stops him dead in his tracks "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Gulping, he turns back to you. The keys jingle in his palms as he fists them. He's pale from fear at getting caught talking to you that way, but he's terrified for the talk that's coming after "I'm sorry, Mom"
He's out the door before you can respond and you turn to Sylus, dubious at how he'd behaved. Said man acts like he didn't just threaten his own son as he lifts his daughter out of the crib and coos at her "You can't talk to him that way!"
"And he can?" Sylus shoots back, his tone conversational as he kisses his daughter's cheeks.
"I was going to address it-"
"No" Sylus carefully holds his daughter in one arm as he turns to you "This is not behavior that we address. This is when they need to be put in line and made to understand the sacrifices you made for them to have the kind of life they do now" Putting an arm around you, he pulls you close and kisses your forehead "They can't get away with talking to their mother this way. More importantly, my wife"
"He shouldn't be riding his bike" Your brows furrow as Sylus puts his daughter back in her crib, before tucking your head under his chin and pulling you close.
"I've got this, baby" He pulls back to look at you, and those crimson orbs that all your children shared had come from this wonderful man, with his glowing eyes and wicked mouth. The love of your life "I'll make sure he's being careful"
With a final kiss to your forehead, he's pulling away to join his son when you call out behind him "Stay safe!"
Your parting words are still keeping him warm by the time he reaches the basement garage where his son is waiting by his bike, parked next to Sylus' own. He's already wearing his helmet, in clear hopes that this will help brace for impact of the storm that is his father.
Wordlessly, Sylus puts on his helmet and gets on his bike. Every moment stretched thin without a single word from his dad has your son nervous as he watches him rev the bike once, the engine roaring.
Sylus turns to look at his son once before he pulls his visor down and takes off. Your son's right behind him, the unspoken command to follow clear.
Both of them tear through the city, driving at a much lower speed than what they would usually, cruising past neighbourhoods and districts as the sun follows them into the sunset.
Your son is intently watching the back of his Dad's head, trying to figure out what exactly is going through his mind. Contrary to what most people deduced, he wasn't a mama's boy. He always felt closer to his dad. Like he didn't need a lot of words to express what he felt and Sylus just knew.
Even now, as they climbed around a hilltop, he could tell that just because he'd taken him out for a drive, everything wasn't back to normal. No, his clearly veiled threat that he didn't want you to hear earlier still rang clear in his head. This wasn't a way to help you calm down. Sylus needed the drive probably as much your son did.
After all, your son had inherited the love for riding from your husband.
They parked their bikes by a viewing spot that was blessedly empty, watching as the sun faded into hues of orange and blue over the city. Sylus takes his helmet off, hanging it over the rearview mirrors before turning to look at his son who was doing the same.
Unlike the older Qin, his son wasn't as good at acting aloof and unbothered. His foot tapped nervously on the tar before he caught himself, found himself knocking anxiously into the side of his bike and stopped abruptly, ran his fingers through his hair and looked around apprehensively before his gaze settled on the way the lights around the city lit up one by one. When he finally turned to look at his father, he found him already studying him quietly.
"You don't know the horrors your mother has faced to be able to give you this life. If you can't be grateful for it, unlearn that bullshit and do right by her yourself before I feel the need to step in"
Your son sighs. He screwed up big time. He lied.
He was a mama's boy.
Sylus tredges into your bedroom a couple hours later when you're sitting at your vanity and doing your skincare after a shower to calm yourself down. The twins caught wind about their eldest brother being in trouble and answering their questions on top of worrying for your son drained all your remaining energy out of you.
"Well?" You ask, going over to where Sylus is pouring himself a stiff drink and downing it in one go "What's the verdict?"
Sylus falls back into the couch and takes you with him, hugging you close to his body and sighing like he felt the entire world's weight on his shoulder "He lives"
"Sylus!" You pull back and smack his shoulder which breaks a chuckle out of him.
"He's fine. He handed over his keys himself and is serving his sentence by baking your favorite cookies before he comes up here to apologize again" That makes you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck, sinking into his warmth again.
"You did good" You praise, playing with the short hair at his nape "What did you say to him?"
Sylus' attention strays from where he'd been drawing mindless patterns into your skin, taking on a faraway look "Nothing too serious. He's a smart kid"
At your unconvinced look, Sylus complies "If it helps, I didn't scold him. He heard an earful for the way he talked to you but.. he's been cooped up at home all these weeks and that translated into today's episode" As an afterthought, he adds "Plus, the twins are not easy"
You groan "I sympathize with him, I really do"
Sylus laughs before he's quiet again, tightening his arms around you, lips resting against your temple "Told him that if he needed to go on a ride, he knows where to find me. And he'll only get his solo riding privileges back once I clear him safe"
"When will that be?" You muse, because you knew your husband.
"Never" You laugh quietly into his shoulder, knowing he's half kidding but also half serious "I should take away all his privileges simply for having talked to you that way"
Your fingers have stopped playing now, sinking deeper into the tufts of his hair and scratching his scalp as your hot breath whispers into his ear "Because no one disrespects your wife?"
You can feel the smirk spreading on Sylus' face as he pulls back to look at you "And lives to talk about it" At your evident frown, he amends "Unless they're blood related, in which case we concede with minimal punishment"
"What do you do to these...perpetrators?" You're not being slick at all, especially as your hand unbuttons his shirt with ease.
"Bad things" His lips ghost over your pulse before he's peppering kisses along your neck and jaw.
"What kind of bad things?" Your hands pull away at his shirt to feel his burning skin beneath your palms, running your fingers over the ridges as his stubble rubs against your skin.
"What was that saying about curiousity and a kitten?"
"It was a cat" You correct, moaning when his lips cover yours to reprimand you mouthing off to him with you hastily pulling away because you're far from done "That's not the full saying"
Sylus is simply humoring you now as he helps you out of your night slip, baring you completely for him "Is that so?"
"Don't you know satisfaction brought it back?" The innuendo is not lost on him, especially as your hands go to his belt buckle "Are you up for the challenge, Mr. Qin?"
Wordlessly, Sylus lifts you in his arms and drops you on the bed, very much up for the challenge as he simply rolls up the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt. And because you're a glutton for punishment, you can't help but push his buttons "Yes? No? Maybe so?"
Sylus foregoes playing into your bait by grabbing you by the calves and dragging you to the edge of the bed as you squeal, throwing your legs over his shoulders, getting ready to show you how good he can satisfy this kitty.
A Protocore sends you and Sylus three years into the future, where you end up crammed in a closet learning things you were never meant to know.🩷🩷
Caleb's part here Xavier's part here
CW: Smut. P in V. Oral. 🔞MDNI🔞
You were not thinking about it. You were not staring at your ceiling thinking about the N109 Zone or the man who ran it. That was not what was happening. What was happening was that you were resting. Quietly. In your own apartment, which you had every right to be in, doing absolutely nothing that involved Sylus in any way whatsoever.
Work had filled most of your time this week. Back to back missions, three cases that bled into each other, a Thursday briefing that ate the entire day. The Association had kept you moving and moving was good. Moving meant you weren't sitting still long enough to think about things you should not be thinking about.
The problem was tonight there was nothing to move toward.
You'd slowed down. Today's mission had seen to that —a clean operation until it wasn't, until you'd caught the edge of something you'd moved a second too late to avoid and ended up limping through the debrief trying to look unbothered. The Association medic had looked at your leg, told you to rest it, and now you were on your couch. Leg up. Thinking.
You'd worked with Sylus enough times to understand how your arrangement functioned, he had access to things the Association didn't and in exchange you'd give him information he found useful. You showed up. He had what you needed. You left. Repeat.
That part made sense.
What didn't was the rest of it. The part where two weeks of silence felt different now. He was the most wanted name on the Association's list and you were a Deepspace Hunter. The math on that was simple.
So no, you did not miss Sylus.
Your leg throbbed. You shifted your weight and stared at the ceiling again, trying to have an internal conversation about professional conduct and the importance of clear boundaries and then your phone lit up.
You grabbed it so fast you nearly put your elbow through the side table.
Sylus: I heard your mission went sideways. How's the leg?
You: How did you...you know what. Never mind.
Sylus: Mephisto was nearby.
You: You sent your bird to check on me?
Sylus: Mephisto goes where he likes.
You: 🙄🙄
Sylus: He said you were limping.
You: Tell Mephisto to mind his own business.
Sylus: He'll be devastated.
You: Good.
Sylus: I have something that might interest you. Have you ever seen a white Protocore?
You: White Protocores don't exist. Whatever you have is a fake.
Sylus: The seller pulled it from an anomalous Wanderer outside the N109 zone.
You sat with that for a moment.
Sylus: Come see it yourself. You'll want to.
The color alone was impossible by every known framework for protocore classification. Which meant either the seller was running an extremely convincing con, or something had come out of that wanderer that nobody had a category for yet.
Your feet were already on the floor.
You: Don't let anyone touch it. Give me 20 min.
Sylus: No need to rush, kitten. Look out your window.
You crossed the room in four steps and pulled the curtain back an inch.
Black car at the curb. No-parking sign directly above it, ignored completely. Sylus leaned against the driver's side door looking up at exactly the moment you looked down.
He raised his phone.
Sylus: Five minutes. Or I decide the leg is worse than you're letting on and leave.
You let the curtain fall.
"Not a chance," you said, to nobody.
You changed fast —jeans, jacket, hair up, sidearm checked —and ran down the stairs in a time your leg was going to remind you about tomorrow. The night air outside hit you cool and sharp.
Sylus hadn't moved from the car. He looked at you coming through the door, down the steps toward him and said nothing until you were close enough to hear.
"You ran down the stairs?"
"I want to see that Protocore."
"Of course." His mouth curved and there it was, the look that sat underneath the smirk, the one you'd filed away and kept finding again. "That's the only reason."
"It is"
"Then why are you still standing here instead of getting in the car."
You pulled the passenger door open yourself before he could do it, which seemed to amuse him. The interior smelled like expensive leather and him.
He slid in beside you, started the engine— the sound of it vibrating through the seat— and pulled away from the curb without looking at the road for the first two seconds because he was still looking at you.
"My people investigated as much as they could." He shifted gears, smooth and unhurried. "Which is why I need someone who knows what a forgery looks like at that level."
"But you also have people for that"
"I have people for a lot of things." He glanced over. Red eyes catching the streetlight for just a second. "None of them are you."
You looked out the window " Is that a compliment?"
"I didn't say it was."
The N109 Zone came up around you, neon and dark in equal measure, a place that operated on entirely different rules than Linkon City. You'd been here more times than your Association file strictly reflected. You knew the streets. You knew the hierarchy. You knew which doors opened for which names. All thanks to the man sitting in the driver's seat.
You had no idea what a white Protocore was. You had no idea what tonight was going to become but you had a feeling you were about to find out.
His office, you knew this place better than your own.
The reinforced doors. The security overrides, which ones were decoys and which ones actually mattered. The hidden safes, three of them, one behind a painting ugly enough to be forgettable on purpose. You'd learned all of it slowly, standing close enough and quiet enough that he forgot you were paying attention.
The White Protocore sat inside a glass tube at the center of his desk, and you hadn't moved in two minutes.
It looked like the others at first. Same crystalline structure, same geometry. But every other Protocore carried color, blue, gold, pink, red, green and purple. This one just a faint pulse, soft milky light spilling across the dark wood. Strange and uncategorizable.
Sylus wasn't looking at the protocore, he was watching you. His eyes were tracing the curve of your jaw, the focus on your expression. In his world of cutthroat deals and rare power, you were his white protocore.
The back of your neck went warm but you kept your eyes on the protocore.
"Can I touch it?"
A low sound from his chest. Not quite a laugh. "I don't recall ever saying no to you, sweetie."
His fingers worked the glass tube open and lifted the protocore into his palm.
You reached for it.
Your fingers brushed his skin and the protocore sat between your hands for a single second and then —
No warning. Just white light swallowing the desk and the dark walls. Then the wind hit, not from outside but from inside the protocore, like a vacuum pulling in with a force that emptied your lungs before you could inhale. The sound of it was scary, like space tearing apart. The air collapsed into that small white light in your hands, the floor dropped away and you were falling without falling.
The first thing that came back was pressure.
Arms locked across your chest and shoulders, tight enough your ribs couldn't move. Something solid at your back. You tried to breathe. Couldn't. Tried again.
"Sy" Barely a whisper. "Can't— brea—"
His arms dropped instantly.
He was on his feet before you inhaled, one fluid motion, hand going to his gun, eyes sweeping the room. No targets. His hand dropped, but his shoulders stayed coiled, still reading the space.
You sat up. Pulled air in slowly until your chest stopped aching.
"Where are we?"
He didn't answer. Still looking.
You looked too.
Dark wood, heavy draping, expensive things chosen for use as much as looks. It felt like his place at first glance.
In the corner was a record player, vinyl turning silently, needle down, producing nothing. Beside it a bookshelf climbed straight to the ceiling, a ladder running the whole length on a track.
On the low table in front of the couch sat two glasses of wine. One half empty. Whoever had been drinking had stepped away expecting to come right back.
You stood slowly.
Sylus had crossed to the far side of the room. His head was angled down at something on the shelf.
You crossed after him, boots loud on the floor.
"Sylus."
He didn't turn.
You came up beside him, followed his eyeline, and stopped.
A photograph. You in your Hunter uniform with a different insignia of a rank you didn't hold yet, holding a trophy. Your smile in the photo was wide open and unguarded, a version of happy you didn't wear on your face very often.
There was a small engraved plaque at the bottom of the frame.
Hunter of the Year — November 2051.
You picked up a magazine beside it.
Your face on the cover. Same uniform, same trophy, same smile. Hunter of the Year in bold letters across the top. Small print in the corner, neat and impossible.
November 2051.
You set it down carefully.
Behind you, Sylus had already moved to the mahogany desk near the windows. Papers shifted. Folders opened and closed. His hands stayed busy and his face gave nothing.
"Sylus." You kept your voice steady. "Look at me."
He didn't.
You crossed to the desk and placedd your hand flat over the document he was holding.
"Three years," he was staring at nothing in particular, whatever was running behind his eyes not making it to his face.
You looked at the half empty glass. The record player still turning in silence. A coat hanging by the door.
"Sylus."
"I see it."
"That's your coat."
"This is one of my safehouses"
"Since when do you keep pictures of the Association Hunters? Last I checked you called us glorified errand runners."
A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth "I've got a taste for beautiful art, sweetie, and maybe I like having a permanent reminder of my favorite headache."
"I'm not your—"
"Someone's coming." his eyes sharpened, hand closing around your wrist.
"Who—"
"This way." He was already pulling you toward a closet.
He yanked the door open expecting to see his weapons.
There were no rifles or guns, just stacked piles of the same magazine you saw earlier, floor to ceiling, your face on every cover, hundreds of them.
"Do you also collect magazines?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice down as he shoved you into the tiny space and squeezed in after you, pulling the door shut. "This is a lot of me for one closet"
"If you keep talking you're going to get us both caught."
You bit down on a laugh and then it died in your throat completely.
The door clicked open and Sylus stepped into the room.
You gasped, turning on instinct to check whether he had somehow warped himself out there with his Evol, but he hadn't moved an inch.
Future Sylus's hair was a mess, like he'd run his hands over it more than once, and a bit longer than you were used to. His shirt was wrinkled, streaked faintly with mud, stretched tight across shoulders that looked broader than the ones currently pressed beside you in the dark. There was more color in his face too, like time had put some weather on him. He paced the length of the room like a caged animal, fists clenching and releasing at his sides. He stopped mid stride, head turning like he'd caught a sound in the room, inside Sylus's hand shot out, closing around your wrist as one finger came up to his lips, a silent order to stay quiet.
Then the door opened again, and future you walked in.
She looked pissed. Shirt torn at the shoulder, soot and dirt ground into the fabric, but her eyes were lit up with anger.
She was you, there was no doubt about that, but she was different. There was more color to her face too and her body was softer in some places, sturdier in others.
"You had no right, Sylus!" She slammed the door behind her "I can still fight! I had that under control!"
"You almost got killed" Sylus didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. Whatever was in his tone was cold enough to make the room feel smaller.
"That's a fucking lie and you know it!" She crossed the space between them fast, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I'm not some damsel for you to decide when I fight and when I don't!"
Beside you Sylus dipped his head, lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Different year. Same feisty kitten." His breath felt warm against your neck.
"Shut up, Sylus. Shut up" you hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. He huffed out a quiet laugh like you'd done him a favor.
Outside, the fight kept climbing.
"You think you can pull me off a fight and take me wherever you want?" her voice bounced off the ceiling. "I'm a Hunter, Sylus. I'm not joining Onychinus. Not now, not ever, no matter how many times you bring it up."
"You've made that perfectly clear."
"It's my job, Sy"
"Not anymore, it isn't."
"You don't get to make that call for me!"
He didn't answer with words. He started walking her back instead, one slow step for every one she gave up without notice, until her spine hit the ladder bolted to the bookshelf.
She was out of room. He planted a hand on either side of her head against the wooden rungs, boxing her in.
"Are you sure about that, sweetie?" Not a question so much as a challenge.
"We don't even know ye— get out of my space!"
"Make me."
Their faces were a breath apart now, close enough that the argument had stopped sounding like an argument. Through the door you felt the air on the other side change, something thick and charged, like the silence that comes right before either a fight or something worse. Your face went hot just watching it, the line between the two of them hating each other and wanting each other collapsing.
"I hate you"
"Good," he murmured so close to her lips. "You can hate me all you want, Mrs. Qin. You're still wearing my ring."
He closed the distance, hand curling around the back of her neck, and kissed her like it was the only thing he had left to say.
Beside you Sylus went completely still.
Future you made a sound against his lips that started as surprise and turned into a moan, her hands coming up to grip his shirt before she dropped them and grabbed him instead.
You turned to look at Sylus, his eyes dropped to yours and a slow smile moved across his mouth and your stomach went with it.
His shirt hit the floor first, hers followed.
Future Sylus lifted her off the floor and settled her onto a rung of the ladder. She grabbed the rung above her head to steady herself and he stepped back just far enough to look at her, taking his time with it while she sat there catching her breath.
Then he reached for her boots.
He pulled the first one off, fingers working the laces without looking down, eyes on her face the whole time. The second followed. He set his hands on her knees and dragged them up her thighs and she made a small sound before he'd even done anything.
His mouth found her collarbone. Moved down. The thin lace of her bra was still on and he put his lips over it anyway, tongue pressing through the fabric against her nipple, and her head went back against the ladder. He bit down through the fabric, and the sound she made was immediate.
You pressed your hand to your mouth.
He did it again on the other side, slower, and her knuckles went white on the rung above her while her hips moved forward looking for something that wasn't there yet.
He kissed down her sternum. The soft skin below her ribs. His mouth dragged across her stomach and she was already breathing in pieces by the time his hands moved to her pants. He worked them down her legs and off, then dropped to his knees.
You made a small sound against your hand.
He was now on his knees between her thighs, hands finding the backs of them, hooking her legs one at a time over his shoulders. The muscles in his arms and neck shifted with the motion and he settled her weight there easily, like he'd done it before. Because in three years he had. Many times. You could tell by how she exhaled when her legs landed on his shoulders— relief. Her whole body recognizing what was coming.
He looked up at her.
Hands spread across her inner thighs, holding them open, red eyes on her face, waiting.
She looked down at him.
Her chest was moving fast. Her lip caught between her teeth. She held his gaze for one long second and then, quietly, barely enough to hear—
"Please."
His fingers found her thong and pulled it to the side.
One hand went to his hair, pulling him in, the other stayed above her head. Her nipples were hard against the wet lace.
Every sound came through clearly. His mouth on her wet pussy. Her breathing. Your face burned. Other things burned. You pressed your thighs together and it didn't help because the sounds didn't stop.
You turned to look at him again.
His right eye burned red in the dark closet. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that wasn't steady.
"Sy—"
"Don't stop." Future you's voice came through the door, breathless. "Fuck, Sy...just like that."
Your face went hotter and you faced forward again.
Sylus exhaled against your hair. His hand was still on your wrist. Neither of you had moved it.
He made a sound against her and the sounds that followed were louder and wetter.
Your fingers found the front of his jacket and held on.
"Is this affecting you?" he asked, right against your ear.
"Shut up."
Then her voice again, completely gone, nothing held back. "Yes — baby, my clit, suck on it — fuck yes—"
His hand tightened on your wrist. Hard.
"Sylus." Your voice came out dry. Broken in the middle. Not what you'd intended at all.
"I know," he said.
Future you screamed his name. The closet pressed in from all sides.
"We need to leave"
"Yes," he agreed, but neither of you moved.
Her thighs locked around his shoulders and shook. He stayed until the last tremor left her. Then he stood, chest glistening, and his hands dropped to the button of his trousers.
Popped it open. Pushed the fabric down his thighs.
The outline of his cock through the fabric of his underwear made your throat close. The tip already wet, a dark circle spreading through the cotton, and his fingers found the waistband—
A large hand came down over your eyes.
"Hey—" You grabbed his wrist. His fingers didn't move.
"If you want a show," his voice low at your ear, "you only have to ask."
"Move your hand." You twisted your head. His palm stayed exactly where it was.
Dark behind it.
Then the sounds hit again.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
Skin against skin. Her voice breaking between each impact, the sounds coming in waves that your brain immediately started filling in visuals for and that was so much worse than if he'd just let you look.
"You're burning up," he said against your ear, not in concern but in pure mockery.
Your thighs pressed together hard. "I swear to god—"
His fingers spread open.
She was still on the ladder. Legs locked around his waist, both of them flushed, sweat catching the light. He had one hand on her hair, holding her close to his face, their mouths almost touching, breathing the same air while his hips rolled forward in deep slow drives that shook her whole body. He was saying something to her, too low to carry, but whatever it was kept fracturing her expression every time he said it.
Then his voice came through clearly.
"Look at me." Steady, even over everything else. "Tell me who you belong to."
Her tongue dragged across his upper lip. "Yours—" Her head dropped back. "Ah— yours, Sy, I'm yours—"
Your underwear felt damp and your clit was pulsing with a persistence you were doing your very best to ignore.
"Do you really think," Sylus whispered against your temple, "it takes us three whole years to get here?"
"I don't—"
Future Sylus pulled back, his tongue dragged slow up her throat while she panted against his shoulder. "You taste different today."
"Because you're—" she gasped, "—you're driving me insane—"
"That's not it." He pushed forward, one deep thrust that tore a cry out of her "You shouldn't be taking field hits right now." A beat. "Not when you're carrying my child."
The closet went cold.
Your jaw dropped. Hers did too.
Pregnant.
The argument. Him yanking her off the mission. All of it clicked into place at once. She was carrying his baby. In three years, you'd be carrying his kid.
Your knees went out from under you.
Your foot caught on something hard as you stumbled back. A stack of magazines toppled with the movement, and everything blurred, sound, vision, all of it going soft at the edges.
"—watch—"
Crimson light cracked through the dark. Sylus's Evol flared, and every falling magazine froze mid air.
The energy didn't stay contained. It rolled out through the closet door and everything on the other side went dead silent.
The sounds stopped. All of them. What replaced the noise had weight to it.
Sylus's eyes were locked on the door. Jaw tight. Not a muscle moving.
"Pathetic," future Sylus said, clear, not a trace of what he'd been doing thirty seconds earlier, "a top tier Hunter and the leader of Onychinus, hiding like toddlers playing hide and seek."
Your stomach dropped straight through the floor.
"Sylus?" Future you, breathless, confused. "Who are you talking—"
"I know you're in there." He sounded almost bored. "You're both breathing like horny teenagers."
Beside you, Sylus exhaled through his nose and reached out to push the door open. "I could say the same"
He stepped out first, glanced down at his sleeve, and flicked off a piece of lint that probably wasn't there. Then he reached back, hooked an arm around your waist, and pulled you out with him. You stumbled onto the polished floor, face burning hot enough to set the room on fire.
Future Sylus had future you pulled against him, her bra strap slipping off one shoulder, hair a wreck, and she was staring between the two of you with her mouth hanging open.
"Is that—" Her eyes went from you to the Sylus standing next to you and back again. "Are we— are they—"
Sylus looked at his future self. Future Sylus looked right back.
Three seconds of silence passed between them, and somehow it felt like an entire conversation.
"You look good," Sylus said.
"And you are interrupting," future Sylus said, arm tightening around future you.
You stopped watching the two of them and scanned the room instead.
There. The White Protocore, sitting beside the wine bottle, pulsing soft in the low light.
You moved before anyone could stop you, crossed the room, and closed your hand around it.
Sylus was right behind you. His hand landed over yours, the stone was caught between your palms again, warm and humming under your skin. He tossed one last glance over his shoulder at his future self and smirked.
White swallowed everything. The floor vanished, and then thud.
The familiar light of his office in the N109 Zone.
You were flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, just breathing.
The Protocore rolled out of your hand and knocked against the leg of his desk before it dissolved into dust.
Sylus sat up, forearm braced on a raised knee, and looked down at you, smirk already back in place. His gaze dropped to your mouth, your throat, the way your chest was still heaving.
"So," he said, leaning over you with one hand braced on the floor beside your head. "A baby."
You threw an arm over your face. "I will shoot you again."
"I'm just thinking ahead." His fingers found a strand of your hair "Sounds like we've got a lot of work to do in the next three years, Miss hunter."
"Two years ago I never would have thought I'd have a husband."
The words flow effortlessly from your lips as you admire the wedding band that shines under the moonlight. Your back resting against the steady rise and fall of Sylus' chest as he downs the rest of his wine.
"Is that a good or bad thing?" The glass is set down with a soft clink, the surrounding forest fills the air with a beautiful symphony. Now, it's accompanied by your laughter.
"It's a wonderful thing." You tilt your head back, not at all surprised to see Sylus already looking at you.
"Some would say we moved quite fast." Crimson eyes search yours, as if waiting for you to suddenly change your mind and agree with them. "I don't think we moved fast enough, honestly."
And you're not joking in the slightest, a smile creeping up your lips as his mouth opens slightly in surprise. "You hated me at first."
It's slightly incredulous, and now you're really laughing. "Yeah? And look how long that lasted, look at where it got me." You wiggled your ring finger in front of him, the wedding band he crafted sparkling in his face. "You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Sy."
He’s quiet for a moment, really studying his own craftsmanship residing perfectly on your ring finger. A small, content smile creeping over his lips as he utters "I wouldn't want it any other way."
The kiss that follows is soft, reverent. His hand sliding along your jaw and tilting your head back so he can angle himself correctly to slot his lips against yours. He tastes like the wine he had just finished, rich and aromatic, with a hint of something that has always been uniquely Sylus. “I love you.” Whispered just millimeters from your lips.
“I love you.” You breathe back, eyes heavy with need as you reach your arm back to grab him, angling him down to make your lips meet once again. Nevermind your own desires, the separation felt torturous. You needed him on you, even if you were practically glued together on the outdoor couch right now. It wasn’t enough.
"Say it again, please." The words are muffled again your skin, nearly swallowed whole by your own mouth. The softest, most desperate plea to hear your declaration once more.
"I love you."
"Again"
"I love you, Sylus."
S'my two year anniversary of playing LaDs today... I downloaded it for Sylus two whole years ago that's wild! Fucking infold and this boycott bro... I miss my fictional husband I haven't logged in to see him in 21 days... I probably would have written something bigger or longer but I’m actually sad asf thinking about this lol 💔 - Soul
He parts his legs for you, giving you plenty of room to settle down on his thigh. His hand comes away from his face, cigarette perched lazily between his ring and middle finger. A stream of smoke puffs from his nose like a dragon as his lips curl into a smirk. "It doesn't last long enough," Sylus says. "Can't I be allowed a little vice?"
You roll your eyes at him, but you can't deny the raw sex appeal he oozes like this. Lounging in his leather chair, whisky on the table beside him, wrist resting limp on the arm, smoke drifting through the room like a serpent.
He watches as you lean forward. You lay your chest against his, watching as you lift his hand toward your mouth. He turns the cigarette over between his fingers, facing the yellow-orange butt your way. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your mouth, watching with the haze of arousal and desire. You don't look away as you take a long drag, the amber glow burning the end into ash.
His other hand lifts to cradle the back of your neck. Cold metal rings touch your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. As you pull off the cigarette, he drops his hand off to the side and draws you in, meeting your lips with his before you can exhale.
He kisses you deep. Devouring. Lifts his leg to press you higher up in his lap. He groans softly into your mouth, nibbling at your lip, tugging on it as he pulls back.
Smoke slips from both your mouths. Wafts away with breaths heavy with desire. He doesn't look as he snuffs the last remnants of the cigarette in the ash tray, all to free both hands, to grab your hip and guide your leg until you're fully straddling him.
"You're going to kill me long before these things do," he rasps, eye glowing steadily brighter in the dim light. He draws you in again, sharing your air, lips only ghosting, watching your face. Watching your eyes, heavy-lidded, staring at his mouth, longing for more. His mouth quirks into a smirk, one you feel against your own as he finally satisfies his addiction for your love.
Summary: Sylus wins an elusive stuffy for you at the claw machine and his reward is better than he expected.
Word count: 425
You crowded the claw machine, a toy you’d wanted for what seemed like weeks was incredibly stubborn and you began to wonder if the owner had glued it down. It barely ever moved.
You’d dragged Sylus to the machine and ordered him to get the stuffy for you. He smirked and called you a demanding kitten and attempted to get the toy a few times before he noticed something was off.
He didn’t want to ruin the game for you so he gently used his Evol to move the magnet that was holding the plush down. After that, it only took him one try to get it and to say you were overjoyed was an understatement.
You were squealing, jumping, and yanking his arm this way and that and he couldn’t help but let a small smile grace his elegant features.
The toy eventually dropped into the bin and you wasted no time squatting down to grab it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You kept repeating, hardly looking at him as you turned the stuffy this way and that, admiring it.
You didn’t know what overcame you, but you suddenly grabbed the back of his neck and dragged his mouth down to yours. It wasn’t a small peck either, it was a long lingering searing kiss that made Sylus’ eye go wide. This was the first time you’d ever kissed. You could barely call what you two were doing ‘dating’, but that apparently didn’t matter at the moment.
You pulled away and suddenly you saw the shock in his face and how his eye was glowing just slightly before you realized what you’d done. You felt the blood drain from your face and immediately rush back as you went through the five stages of grief so fast it gave you whiplash.
“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
His face fell slightly at that and you back pedaled hard.
“That’s not what I meant! I just mean I was so excited and I wasn’t really thinking and I guess I just acted on instinct and-“
“Instinct? Your first instinct is to kiss me when I win you a plush?” He asked, a smirk spreading across his fast.
“W-well…” you didn’t know what to say to that so you just hid your face in the soft material of the toy and groaned. The next thing you knew, the machine was cheering and you peeked out slightly.
In front of you, Sylus held out another stuffy with a smug grin.
you've been having regular "outings" with sylus, thinking it was nothing more than two friends hanging out with each other. what you don't realize is that sylus treats these outings as something else entirely..
tags: fluff, pre-relationship sylus mc, FINALLY BETA READ everyone clap for me plz
wc: 1.3k
a/n: another small sylus fic before i head to bed 😛 i lowk dk where i was going with the ending but atleast i got it done.. right..? also this ones for u sena 😎
you were currently choosing an outfit to wear for your trip with sylus, trying to decide if this is a "bring jacket just incase it's super cold" night or "wear a sweater so you're covered just incase it's already cold" night.
he's been stealing your time every chance at a free night you get for the past few weeks, taking you out to fancy restaurants, bringing you over to his house for wine tasting, and the occasional joyrides on his motorcycle. out of linkon, of course.
you never really thought much of it, it was nice to take a break from work and just relax with him. and he was the one to always ask you out, who were you to refuse? plus, he always pays for everything (even after insisting you can pay for yourself), so it was nice on your wallet.
tonight, he said he wanted to take you out stargazing. he didn't say to bring anything, but to prepare for the weather being a bit chilly, hence your current predicament. you settled on your sweater, it was warm enough to protect you from the cold night air while still being comfortable enough to not make you feel stuffy.
just as you finished putting on your outfit, you get a text from sylus telling you that he arrived at your apartment. you quickly grab your keys and your motorcycle helmet before rushing downstairs to see him in his signature fit whenever he drives his motorcycle, the black leather pants with his black leather jacket that has the red and white accents on the sleeves.
the light from his phone illuminated his face as he looked up and greeted you with the smirk he always wore.
"don't you look cozy," he says.
"i interpreted your dress code as being comfortable. so here i am, comfortable." you explain to him, already putting on your helmet. you tap on the seat of his bike, signaling for him to get on.
he chuckles. "so impatient," but he gets on anyway, revving up the engine before letting you sit behind him. you wrap your arms around his torso tight and he sets off.
you drive for a good 30 minutes or so, just outside of the city. when you arrive, you don't recognize the area. he stops on the foot of a hill and kills the engine, before getting off the bike. he takes of his helmet before taking off yours and setting them both on the hand clutches. he then offers you a hand to hop off, which you take. strangely, he doesn't pull his hand from yours, so you don't retract it either. he leads you up the hill, where on top is a small picnic set up, red and white checkered blanket laid on the ground with a variety of your favorite foods on it. it's surprising how no insects or ants have gotten to it yet.
"it's so.."
"what sweetie? cute?" sylus asks with a raised eyebrow.
"..unexpected. who knew the infamous onychinus leader knew how to set up such a domestic view?" you tease, swinging your interlocked arms back and forth while looking up at him with a cheeky smile.
he smiles back, pulling you towards the picnic before settling down on the blanket and letting you sit beside him. "well, it would be rude of me to not know the preferences of the one i asked out, would it not?"
you hum. "i guess that's true. i guess i was just under the impression we were only gonna look up at the sky and point out constellations. didn't expect a whole night picnic with it." you lie down, bringing your legs up to bend your knees with your feet on the grass and your hands behind your head. you stare up at the sky, all the stars are visible from here since you were so far out from the city where the city lights couldn't block the view. it really was a perfect stargazing spot.
you feel the body next to you also lie down. you can vaguely see from your peripheral that he's basically in the same position as you, only one of his legs is propped up on the other and he only has one arm behind his head while the other rests on his stomach.
"i would only prepare the best for my date of course, no more no less." he says casually.
wait.
was this a date?
it's not like you haven't pondered on it before. regular nightly outings with a man who pays for you 99% of the time? that's basically a date.
but then again, it's not like he's explicitly asked you out on a formal date before. or hinted (you think) at anything but platonic feelings towards you. even if it did hurt a little because, what normal man does this platonically?
you brushed those thoughts and feelings aside however. sylus was a man who took what he wanted whenever he wanted. he was always direct in his approaches, business and non-business wise. so if he never asked you out, it was safer to assume your hang outs were platonic at best.
you turn to look at him to see him already looking at you, his red eyes piercing your own.
"sylus, is this a date?"
you see his eyes widen a fraction for just a split second.
he bursts out laughing, rich and loud and full of joy. he's practically glowing and clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.
"hey! im seriously asking!" you sit up to look down at him, frowning at the man. his eyes are filled with tears of laughter and you can't help but smile. once he ceases his laughing fit, he looks at you with a soft look.
"sweetie, have you just realized?"
"realized what?"
he sits up now too, his head a fraction above yours making you now look up. he's smiling at you fondly, brushing stray hairs from your face before caressing your cheek with the palm of his hand, the warmth of it bringing you a sense of comfort.
"i've been courting you for weeks now."
"..you have??"
he snickers at you. "count how many people i casually take out for dinners and pay for all of them. how many people have i taken into my home just to taste expensive wine with me? how many people do you think i just take a drive for out on my motorcycle just for fun?"
you open your mouth. then close it.
"okay to be fair, you never explicitly asked me on a date. or said any of those were dates for that matter." you argue before he suddenly kisses you. you squeak in surprise, but return the kiss nonetheless. when he pulls back, he huffs another laugh.
"i guess that's my mistake then, sweetie." he wraps his arms around you, then pulls you down to lie on top of him.
"will you let me make it up to you?"
"oh? how would you do that?"
"hmm.." he looks up at the sky and pretends to think. "maybe by properly asking if i can court you now."
"…"
"may i be your boyfriend?"
its your turn to huff a laugh, and you playfully smack his chest before giving him another kiss, a softer one.
"was that so hard to ask me?"
"to be fair sweetie, you also agreed to the dates, so i assumed you knew what they were."
"well i guess we're both just stupid then."
he smiles, and allows you to pull back just enough to look up at the sky.
you spend the rest of the night cuddling and chatting, finding comfort within each other. sure the both of you were kind of oblivious, but atleast you got together!
at some point you fall asleep in his arms, he watches you sleep with a smile, allowing himself to be selfish for a little bit with you. he kisses your forehead, whispering sweet nothings before gazing at the stars, he wishes upon every one of them that you continue to choose him in every life, in every universe. even if you both might not realize you have already been destined for each other in the first place.
I love Sy's kissing animation in the home system cuz like
Imagine finally being together, having him over, and slowly getting more physically affectionate and comfortable with each other. He's just a bit awed when he's finally able to kiss you
Passing behind you in the kitchen to grab a mug, only to pause and turn your chin so he can kiss you over your shoulder
Folding laundry with you, snickering at your "granny panties" and superhero themed boxers. He's reaching into the basket for another shirt to fold, and realizes he's reaching right by you. So what if he feigns stretching just so he can put his face right in front of yours and coax you into kissing him before you push him away with a laugh?
It's like he remembers he's allowed. Allowed to touch you and hold you and kiss you. A man can get addicted
So some days he finds you around the house, and he just needs to satisfy his desires. Taking your hands in his to steal your attention. Leaning down to rub his nose against yours, until your eyelids grow a little heavier with your own desires. Smiling as he leans in, kissing you slow, savoring every second. He'll gladly stay here until the world crumbles around the both of you
Because the world doesn't matter as long as he can kiss you
every time you get a haircut, your hair always dries to be very fluffy. you use this to your advantage. you plod into sylus's office, all tired from being out. You don't even need to exchange words as you plop down on the couch beside him, laying down and placing your head in his lap, closing your eyes.
"the new hairstyle suits you, sweetie. i like it." he praises, before slowly beginning to run his fingers through the strands, watching the tension ebb from your body at his touch. over time, he finds himself mindlessly playing with your hair as he works, twirling sections around his fingertips, the soft texture pleasant. sometimes he scratches your scalp in a way that makes your brain go completely empty, tingles traveling through your head, and you have to be careful not to drool on his nice slacks.
by the time he's finished what he was working on, you're fast asleep. he gazes down at you fondly for a little while, admiring your features relaxed in sleep. he carefully lies beside you, lifting you up and resting you back down on his chest. wrapping his arms around you, he indulges in your warmth against him for a long while, eventually falling asleep himself.
A day at the beach on his private island, one of several perks of being Sylus’ lover. “I do tan. In fact, I am tan, aren’t I?” Sylus glances up at you through the bedroom mirror, the ocean can be heard crashing against the shore through the open balcony window.
The setting sun only makes his skin look rosy rather than golden.
“You look rosy red and tan… I think if you scratched yourself it would hurt.” He had just stepped out of the shower, a fluffy white towel hung sinfully low on his toned hips.
Even in the setting light, you can see a defined line from where his swim trunks had sat. “Maybe, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Not all that bothered, he takes the towel you had abandoned on the bed and uses it to start drying his damp hair.
“Mm, I dunno, Sy. I don’t wanna hurt you.” You sigh, trying to swallow your grin as you turn back to the vanity mirror, brushing through the damp locks of your own hair.
You catch him freezing through the reflection, towel quickly coming off his head as he turns to look at you. “You don’t want to hurt me? What exactly were you planning?”
You don’t answer, keeping your eyes trained on your own reflection as you brushed. Ignoring Sylus as he closed the distance between the two of you.
“C’mon, kitten. Don’t leave me hanging.” You’re overwhelmed by the smell of him, fresh out of the shower and radiating that post-beach warmth as he places a hand on either side of the vanity table and crowds you. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just look for myself.”
You lock eyes in the mirror, the crimson glow of his aethercore dull yet full of promise.
Now that he was this close, you got a proper look at the true extent of his sun damage. The thick chain he had been wearing earlier had certainly left its mark, his skin three shades lighter where it had once been. For some reason, you found yourself swallowing a whine. “You need some aloe, Sy. I really don’t want your skin to have lasting damage.”
You forgot about the aloe the second his towel had dropped.
Now, with him under you, you could really assess him. “Shit… oh my god, Sylus!” You gasped, head tossing back as you dropped your hips down his length again.
The hiss that escaped him was melodic to you, your nails digging dully into the burn he claimed he didn’t have. “You feel so good… always so good…!” You lift, dropping your hips once you get halfway up as you try to reconnect with the rhythm you once had.
“You’re squeezing me so tight…” it sounds strangled coming from his lips, his eye glowing brighter than the sunset beyond the balcony doors as you bounce yourself on his cock. “You look s-so cute with your little tan lines, Sy. I could eat you.”
Just admiring him against the sheets has a new wave of heat flooding your body, pussy clamping around his throbbing length torturously tight.
“...think you’re already devouring me, kitten…fuck!” his head presses into the pillows, eyes squeezing shut as his cock twitches violently within your gummy walls.
“M’gonna cum, fuck fuck stop moving…” but you don’t listen, dragging your nails over his burned pecs and forcing your hips down just a little harder.
Sylus has half the mind left to huff out a laugh, defeated and at your mercy but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Not when his orgasm is crashing over him and his release is emptying freely into your warm cunt.
You stop entirely, sinking down until your hips are flush to his. Watching his chest heave as your orgasm teeters on the edge before slowly fading away. It makes your insides flutter, hips rocking subconsciously to prolong the sensation as he comes down.
“You feel good, Sy? Are you still with me?” of course you’d start instigating him the moment he’s cum. His exhale turns into a breathless, unbelieving laugh. The flare of light as his eyes open is enough to make your heart rate sky rocket. “You’re insatiable."
Imagine your lover, Sylus, had to stifle his laugh when he was watching you grimace over expensive price tags at the designer store.
"Why is it over 500 dollars?!" you shrieked, gripping the price tag tightly in your hand; it could almost crumple in your frustration.
Your monthly salary wasn't even close to covering the cost of one item!
Behind you, you heard your lover let out a deep, suppressed giggle. Offended by the mere sound, assuming it was one of mockery or amusement at your expense, you whipped around to shoot him a glare, only to see a fond twinkle in his crimson eyes.
"What's so funny, huh?" you demanded, crossing your arms then sizing up your much taller partner with a scowl.
Oh, how badly Sylus wanted to gobble you up.
He pinched the fat of your cheek affectionately, chuckling softly. "I just find it amusing how worked up you get over mere pocket change," he said, gazing at your preferred attire with a mixture of amusement and adoration. "It's endearing, really."
You gave him a look, now letting go of the price tag. You're fully aware that your lover is a wealthy man, not only dominating a dangerous underground territory but also being in possession of several luxurious properties that fingers are insufficient to count. You loved that quality in him; it gives you security and reassurance that he can provide for you in ways beyond material possessions.
But sometimes it irked you how cocky he is when flaunting his wealth.
You smacked his broad chest with your hand, turning away from him with a huff. "Whatever, I'm leaving," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
Then a few hours later, after arriving at your shared penthouse, the conclusion of a shopping spree is where you didn't actually buy anything because of your pettiness.
Sylus walked behind you with a smirk on his face, watching you turn the doorknob and walk inside the living room until you stopped in your tracks.
The living room is cluttered with designer boxes and shopping bags, from the couch to the coffee table, evidence that a certain someone had gone overboard with their spending without your knowledge. It's the same designer brand you complained about hours ago, now greeting you with its presence in your home.
Sylus chuckles at your still reaction, his cheeky arms wrapped around your waist, pulling his body closer to yours. He planted a subtle kiss on the top of your head, his smile faintly visible as he whispered, "If you want something," and he leaned closer to your flustered ear. "You don't need to complain when you have a lover who is more than willing to spoil you."
He dragged his lips to your neck, just smoothing over your skin with a teasing touch, as his warm breath makes you tickle. "I was planning to buy the whole mall just for you earlier."
"But a certain kitten was being fussy that I had to cancel those plans."
You are trying so hard not to give in to his sweet words and the temptation he brings with his gentle caresses.
Oh well, even if you try hard to resist, he'll give it to you regardless.
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