Worked on this one from the minute the PV came out.
More sepia toned version I saved before I finished all the details:
"SOME PEOPLE...THE MOMENT THEY APPEAR IN YOUR LIFE, YOU KNOW YOU'LL REMEMBER THEM AND MISS THEM."
Far from perfect, but I had so much fun working on it. I can't get over this multi.
I gave her curls because I felt they fit the era, but it is my first time drawing these type if curls, so they are not perfect, but I absolutely loved drawing and rendering them. I need to try different hairstyles on my MC, for some reason I've been limiting myself to whats in game when I dont have to!!
It is also the first time I"m actually ahead of a release and managed to finish something before the event passed.!
I want to make one for Zayne too, but we'll see if I can manage it!.
(I used a textured brush for his coat, but other than that, everything was drawn by me, and I also made the textured brush myself and also, I have been practicing dancing pose for the art I made for Zayne, so that's a plus for this one too, as I managed to use what I learn).
“Just relax,” Sylus's low voice brushed against Y/N's neck as he leaned forward a little, his lips grazing her ear. “You're even more tense than when you first got in.”
Cheeks flushed from shyness along with the steam and heat from Sylus's abnormally large jacuzzi, Y/N shivered a little. There was so much room in the tub, yet for some reason Sylus had decided to sit directly behind her, his long legs stretched out on either side of Y/N's body. His fingers were gentle on her waist under the rolling water, slowly massaging circles over her bare skin.
Noticing the stiff set to Y/N's shoulders and realising there was no way she was going to lean back first the way he wanted her to, Sylus carefully locked his arms around her waist and tugged her close in one swift movement. Her back landed against his muscular chest, and his hands smoothed over her stomach, his lips pressing soft kisses to the skin below her ear.
“Relax,” he whispered again, voice rumbling through Y/N's body. “Fall asleep if you want. You're exhausted.”
Skin heating up even more as she gradually melted in his arms, Y/N hesitated a little. Her eyes threatened to fall shut from the sheer comfort of Sylus's body encasing her and the bubbling water licking at her sore muscles, but she forced them open.
Sylus's hand found its way to her face and he gently used two slender fingers to shut her eyes.
“Sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”
His words were exactly what she needed to relax. Her shoulders dropped and she turned her face a little, tucking it against the small curve between Sylus's bicep and chest. Her fingers curled around his forearm as she slid down a little more so she was half laying in his arms.
“Dream of me,” Sylus hummed and kissed her temple. His hands continued to caress her stomach and thighs under the water, and the last thing Y/N was aware of was the way his lips kept pressing against her neck and the top of her head and the way his fingers brushed her hair away from her flushed face before she fell fast asleep.
Making love on a STONE slab? The absolute hell that it is on your knees. I mean regular carpeted floors are already quite the challenge. He did it on slippery, carved surface. From start to finish. Like, hello?
And i knew he knew ball when they dropped this line:
I know you're thinking "yeah... and?"
But my fellow goon squad, this here is about the angle! If he hovers slightly above instead of face to face.... he is giving her friction!!!!!!
The length, and boy does he have plenty, ahem... the entire length of him when he withdraws from that angle during a stroke will basically drag against her clit. Over and over again. With more pressure compared to if he was a little lower.
Oooooh lord i love a man who has these kinds of technical fucking skills. It makes my whole day. Best card ever !
Also this had me like oop!
Grabbing your man like this while he fucks you down is exactly how you end up pregnant. Exactly. Just saying. No wonder the pain from the slab didn't even register. They were in it!!!!!
𝟅ϱ sum. arguing with sylus in missionary! cw : mdni, argument, make up sex, sylus is a caring husband.
frankly, you don’t even know what the argument has been about, or if you can even call it an argument. between the lengthy assignments you have to do on short notice and your husband barely batting an eye when he pisses you off, you are a wreck.
“ y-you never listen to me; all you do is talk.” you’re currently situated under your annoying husband in question, legs parted on both sides of his hips, hands interlocked as he presses soft kisses into your sweaty skin, appearing as if he’s barely listening to your complaints— which you know is far from true. sylus is anything but neglectful when it comes to you, and somewhere deep inside you know that. you just can’t get that part of your brain to rationalize in your anger. “ you’re doing it again… not listening.”
“ i am listening, sweetie.” his hot breath touches your skin as he exhales with a soft chuckle, removing his face from your chest to make eye contact with you as he presses deeply into your wet warmth. despite your attitude, you hold him close, nails slightly digging into the expanse of his back while his dick reaches such deepness inside you that you almost forget why you’re mad. “ i just didn’t want to make my kitten get even more fussy while she rants about me. continue, i’m all ears.”
you dart your eyes away, focusing on anything in the room that can distract you from how badly you want to be vulnerable and crumble in his arms. his fingers on your chin pull your gaze back to him, lips curled into that boyish but shit-eating smirk.
“ oh? cat got your tongue?”
“ this cat will strangle you,” you uttered, maintaining eye contact as he made sloppy thrusts with his hips, knocking on your sweet spot and briefly passing it. the lowness of his voice hinted at a sultry purr, and you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching down on him harshly, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly; you scratched at the untamed skin there. “ hah, j-just like that, sylus.”
“ has my sweetheart of a wife returned back to me? or does she still want to rip my head off with her tiny claws?” sylus’ teasing words trail off into a groan as your walls refuse to loosen their grip on him. he straightens his back, hands firmly but softly pressing your knees into your chest as he re-enters into your whiny cunt with the purpose of scrambling your mind and words. pride washes over him once he sees you keen and grasping for closure on the messy bed as he impossibly discovers places so deep in your walls it feels as if he’s searching through your brain. “ it’s okay, i’ll just help you make up your mind in the process.”
“ f-fuck you, sylus!” through your panting you still bitterly curse him out. your words do no sort of impact on him; all he does is shrug them off, smirk widening even more while watching you try to catch up with your breathing. it all feels so good, watching you refuse to back down knowing that by the end of the night he’ll pry out what made you mad in the first, even if he has to do it while fucking all thoughts out your pretty mind.
“ jokes on you, kitten. i believe you’re already doing so.” you didn’t have a response; he laughs at that. bending your legs onto his shoulders he thrusts into you with free range, eye to eye, skin to skin, and mouth to mouth. when you disconnect there is a string of combined saliva between and a lingering warmth. “ if you tell me what’s wrong, i can make you feel better. you don’t have to do mind games with me, kitten.”
painfully, your heart clenches. “ s-sylus,” is all you can manage to whimper out as tears begin to pool in the eyes he loves so much. you don’t register when they drop until he starts peppering your wet skin with his soft kisses. his once erratic hips slow their pace, leaving a space of understanding where you can melt into him fully. “ ‘m sorry for being an… ass. just been so stressed out.”
“ i told you multiple times you can quit your job and work for me. stress free, and you have me to yourself all day.”
“ d-don’t joke around like that!” you whimper, eyelashes clumped together due to the moisture of your tears as your body underneath him continues to jolt and squirm in the utmost of pleasure and passion. the way how he shushes your cries and wipes your tears away is the softest feeling in the world. you hiccup when he fiddles with your clit with soft touches, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer. “ sylie… wanna cum.”
“ now i’m sylie? you’re a tricky one.” he’s back at the teasing, but it’s half hearted compared to how he usually pisses you off in outstanding ways. the more and more you stared at him, the more you wanted to be one in his skin, a small part of you consider actually taking his offer. his thumb speeds on your erect clit, wringing more wetness from your slit that coats his dick in a glimmering sheen, which also gets on the base of him. “ such a brat.”
“ ‘m sorry, you win.” you pout, trailing your hand to his soft white hair, gently tugging it, pulling a soft groan from him. he presses down on your clit— just a tad, watching your legs tense and threaten to tremble and he coaxes you into an orgasm. “ s-sylus!”
for the rest of the night he softly shushes your whimpers as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, enough to leave you happy for the rest of the month.
sylus right now seems to have absolutely zero respect for the concept of working from home.
you’re sitting on the couch with your laptop resting on your thighs, typing out a report for the association. you are right in the middle of typing a very professional sentence when the cushion beside you sinks down drastically.
a second later, a silver head drops right onto your laptop keyboard.
sylus stretches out across the rest of the couch, completely unbothered, using your laptop and by extension–your lap, as his personal pilloww. his heavy shoulder blocks your view of the screen and his silver hair instantly presses against your keys, creating a random string of letters.
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjjjjjjkkg.
“sylus,” you sigh, staring down at him. “i’m in the middle of a report.”
“delete it,” he rumbles, voice low and lazy against your thigh. “it looks boring.”
“it’s an official report of a wanderer!” you say, trying to nudge his shoulder but he’s like a block of concrete. he dosen’t move an inch. “get off, you’re typing gibberish.”
sylus lets out a deep, vibrating huff that warms your leg through your pants. slowly, his head slides off the laptop and fully into your lap. he tilts his head up to look at you. his piercing red eyes are full of pure, sleepy mischief and that familiar, arrogant smirk is firmly in place.
“let the association handle it,” he says smoothly, reaching to slap the laptop shut. it snaps close, trapping his fingers before he pulls them free. “you’ve been staring at that little box for two hours, kitten. pay attention to me instead.”
“you’re a giant menace,” you huff, crossing your arms and glaring down at him.
“whatever you say, sweetie,” he replies with lazy fondness.
he dosen’t even wait for you to start arguing again. he reaches his large, long, hands up, hooks them under your arms and effortlessly pulls you down. you let out a large gasp as you slide off the couch cushions and collapse right into his broad chest. your laptop slides harmlessly onto the carpet.
sylus wraps his arms around your waist, locking you flag against him. he feels like a furnace, chest rising and falling beneath your cheek.
“sylus! let me up, i need to send that–”
“shh. you’re making too much noise, sweetie,” he chides playfully, voice dropping to a comfortable drawl.
he tucks his chin over the top of your head, long fingers rubbing circles into the small of your back, effectively melting all the tension out of your spine.
you try to wiggle out of his grip, but it’s completely useless. he’s too warm, too strong and entirely too comfortable. with a defeated sigh, you let your forehead drop against his collarbone, your hands curling into his shirt.
“i hate you,” you mumble into his chest.
sylus just chuckles, a deep sound that echoes right under your ear. he presses a quick, lazy kiss to the crown of your head, his grip tightening just a fraction to keep you right where you are.
“sure you do,” he purrs, his eyes closing as he settles in for a nap. “now stay still. you make a good blanket.”
You’ve just returned from your first trip to the N109 zone. You are trying to blend back into life with constant thoughts of a certain white haired man - one who refuses to leave you alone - plaguing your waking and nightly hours.
Sylus spends the next few days in work mode. Refusing to think about your clipped short messages. He still finds a reason to message you at least once a day, but watching your messages get shorter and shorter finally forces him to face a fact that had been digging a hole into his soul since your first meeting.
He might have pushed too far this time.
You are back in Linkon now and have no reason to continue contacting him. He’s thankful for even the shortest message. He knows you will have additional missions in the N109 zone (either from the association or personally), so all he can hope for is you will reach out to him and accept his help.
So he continues on as if it’s work as usual. He accepts that you may never forgive him. That he may never get to hold you as he once did.
If anyone sees him he looks fine. Calm. Collected.
Only the twins see hints of what’s below the surface. He’s throwing himself into work, but anytime he has a moment alone he finds himself staring into nothing. Missing you. Missing even the sound of your anger and disgust.
He pretends it doesn’t bother him. The few times you do reach out to him, he acts like the prime example of control and confidence.
You don’t seem to notice he unnecessarily prolongs those rare moments.
When the day finally comes for him to need to step away for a time, he makes a promise to you that feels like a death sentence.
He doesn’t let himself think about you while he’s gone. He can wallow when he returns. There’s no actual danger of his death, he knows this.
But he made a promise and he will stick to it.
So when he returns he knows you won’t know if he’s alive or dead. But that the news would likely lead you to believe the later.
He doesn’t expect the way you blow up his phone.
At first he ignored them. He couldn’t afford the distraction while in enemy territory. By the time he’s back in the N109 zone he finally lets himself read them.
For the first time in what felt like months, something other than a muted acceptance fills his chest.
He finds you on the street. Finally hears your voice.
And you are angry.
Because he’d left. And you hadn’t known if you’d see him again. Hadn’t known if he was safe.
That hits him hard. Like a blow to his gut that instead of causing pain, causing a pressure to build and threaten to explode from him.
He smiles. He can’t help it.
He fucked up. He knows this.
But if you let him, he’d spend a lifetime making it up to you.
And from the way you cling to him right now, he might actually get the chance.
The reason Sylus talks a lot about traces (whether the mc marking his territory or vice versa) is because in his dragon myth, he died knowing he didn’t leave a trace for mc to remember him by.
synopsis: you can come to sylus anytime you need him. also, some of his men need better training!
tags: fluff/comfort, anxious reader, onychinus guard is dismissive of reader, reader feels like a burden, sylus has none of it, vague threats against anyone who keeps him from his partner, tiny bit suggestive at the end
word count: 1.4k
one, two, three…
another futile count to four.
no matter how many times you guide the air in and out of your lungs, your heart still thrashes in your chest.
on the nightstand, the clock reads 3:06 a.m.
where was he right now?
in times like this, there was only one person who could soothe you. you hadn’t seen much of sylus this week, but the chances of getting through this without him were slim. you could only hope he hadn’t left for the night.
hugging your sides, you pad through the base’s chilly halls, the echo of gruff voices growing louder with each step. above them all, one seems to soar—the one that sings you to sleep through thunderstorms, that greets you at every dawn.
sylus.
you nearly trip as you round the final corner that separates you. but when you finally reach the room where his meetings are held, the hulking figure looming outside gives you pause.
“you need something?”
he’s one of sylus’s men—bruce, if you remember right—but you haven’t spoken to him much. surely, though, he’s seen you around?
swallowing thickly, you wring your hands out in front of you. “i was looking for sylus. i was hoping i could talk to him.”
if he notices the tremor in your body, he doesn’t say anything. “boss is busy right now. you can come back when he’s done.”
when he’s done?
“um…are you sure?” you protest weakly. “he usually doesn’t care if—”
“i’m sure, alright?” for some reason, he sounds exasperated. “look, this deal is important to us, and he doesn’t need any distractions. just wait for him to finish.”
the words bounce in your brain. they feel wrong. you feel wrong. but if your presence ever sabotaged his work, you’d blame yourself for weeks.
biting your lip, you nod once and turn on your heel, dragging your feet back to your shared bedroom.
you’ve been hugging your knees for what feels like hours when the door creaks open. almost immediately, the scent of home fills the room, wrapping around you like the hug you needed earlier.
“sylus?” you croak, pushing yourself up on the mattress. “are…are you free now?”
he pauses for a moment, then flicks the nearest lamp on its lowest setting. in the warm, reddish light, you see his elevated eyebrow. “what do you mean?”
“i know you were in a meeting. i almost went to see you, but the guard said i shouldn't disturb you. so i’ve been waiting here.”
“disturb,” he repeats, like the word is foreign on his tongue. “you…disturb…me?”
his head is angled to the side, like a puppy’s during its first encounter with the bathtub. you decide against telling him this, only nodding instead.
as soon as you do, the shadows of snarl creep onto his face. “why were you coming to see me?”
“i was just anxious, i guess. it wasn’t that much worse than usual.” the back of your neck warms, and you scratch it nervously. “since you usually help me, i thought maybe you could this time, too. but it’s okay,” you rush. “i feel better now.”
he shuts his eyes, letting out a three-second sigh. then, he comes to the bed, sits down beside you, and tucks you into his side. “he’s fired.”
startled, you raise your head as much as his bear paw of a hand allows. “what?”
“the guard you ran into. he’ll be gone by morning,” he says simply.
your heart hammers in your chest again—this time, out of guilt. “but—i’m sure it was a misunderstanding. he was only trying to make sure your meeting went well, and i could have come in at a bad time, and—”
the wry curve of his lips tells you he’s not convinced. “alright, sweetie. let’s say i keep him on. this first time, you’re upset, and he thinks it’s not worth telling me. what happens next, then? you’re hurt, and i don’t find out until it’s too late?”
he takes your silence as a sign to continue.
“if you were in danger and someone kept you from coming to me,” he begins, voice dipping in with conviction, “i’d do much, much worse than fire them. consider this a blessing, sweetie. you’re doing the man a favor.”
you chew your lip and fiddle with your hands, unable to fully believe him. “i guess.”
gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head until your eyes meet. “i want you to see me anytime, no matter the reason. even if you don't have one. your problems are my problems, and my time is yours.”
you can’t hold his gaze for very long—you never can. but when you wrap your arms around his torso, he knows he’s gotten through to you.
“good. now, why don’t you tell me what you were so anxious about?”
you stiffen against him, but only momentarily. “i don’t really want to.”
he lets out a bewildered scoff. “hmm?”
“you’re here now, and i’m happy. i want to focus on that instead,” you say, shoving your face into his chest.
he lets his body buckle slightly from the force, his rich chuckle setting your mind at ease. “alright, then. how was the rest of your day?”
a week later, a taller, bigger, much nicer guard knocks on the dark oak door. nodding your head in thanks, you enter after a moment’s preparation, and the mix of deep voices falls to a hush.
the meeting is over. you know that as soon as sylus’s eyes find yours, softening from warmth and relief. “thank you, morgan,” he calls to the new guard. then, he cuts his eyes across the sleek round table. “i’ll have the room now. follow up in three days.”
scraping their chairs against the hardwood floors, the other men nod their heads and clear out. once the door shuts behind them, sylus turns his chair toward you and pats his thigh. you rush into his open arms without a second thought.
“hi, sweetie,” he murmurs into your hair. “what is it?”
heat rushes to your cheeks. you bite the inside of your left one. “i…”
humming inquisitively, he gives an encouraging squeeze to the side of your waist. “you…?”
“i…am bored.”
pulling back a bit, sylus examines you carefully, checking to see if you’re serious. when all you do is stare back at him, fighting the urge to cover your face, a snort builds to a wheeze, then to a bark of laughter. “and we can't have that, can we?” he teases, eyes twinkling like roses in starlight.
sheepish, you shake your head and try to double down. “we can’t. my problems are your problems.”
“they are. you’re a quick learner,” he rumbles, gently bringing your foreheads together. “how lucky is it that i’m bored, too? had that meeting gone any longer, i would’ve had to remove our honored guests from the base.”
shifting on his lap, you squint down at him. “by kindly asking them to leave, right?”
“something like that,” he replies, and you try to suppress the image of fifteen bodies being flown out the front door. “in any case, what should we do instead?”
“well, there’s this rainforest documentary i want to watch. or we could keep watching that vampire drama, or we could play that game i beat you at last time—”
“i have no memory of that.”
“I do.” you steamroll over him. “or you could walk me through the armory again, or…”
as you spew out options, you’re almost oblivious to the way he maneuvers you in his hold. soon enough, though, you’re intensely aware of the kisses he scatters over your cheeks, stealing your focus until your lips tug into a frown. “you’re not listening, are you?”
“of course i am,” he whispers, hands roaming over your skin. “your ideas are great, kitten. it’s just…there’s no need to rush. why don't we start going down the list, say, an hour from now?”
you can barely nod before he pulls you into a searing kiss, any and all boredom going up in smoke. you don’t know how long you stay there with him, touching until your bodies blur together. an hour, two—you’re not sure, you don’t care.
with the room to yourselves and him in your arms, you have all the time in the world.
thinking about vampire sylus starving himself until you're on your period.
tw: blood, cunnilingus, some religious themes, starts with sylus licking ur blood off the floor bc hes hungry
You leave behind a promise outlined in a shy trail of blood. As you imagined it would invoke the deepest parts of him, you are correct in that.
The Immortal Countess knows how to put the Archfiend, the Lord of Darkness on his knees with his forehead pressed against the stone steps leading to the church.
The scent of you is a whisper, one that beckons him. Only him. And he follows. He tastes and immediately his stomach writhes in pleasure. It has been a long, long time since he's fed. His tongue leaves no trace of you behind. He won’t allow it, the inner makings of his soul render him unable to.
He’s like a fish caught on a reel. Or a beast catching the scent of its prey nearby. Under the red sun that falls as shadows around him, he moves like a true apex. Four legged that acts with instinct.
You take him through the inner body of the church. At its heart, the path ends at the altar. At the sight of you upon it in your thin white chemise, crimson stained, His head raises up from the ground. He gives you a smile stained red.
“Is this your offering to me?”
“Yes" the single word is deafening "and in return I want answers. You have not eaten in a long time” the air of concern and the desire in your voice echoes against the high ceiling.
You watch him watch you as he approaches the foot of the altar, “I wonder what is stopping you.”
“Patience” He kisses your ankles that are crossed together like a true lady and he leaves his mark, a bloody kiss “it yields to me the sweetest reward.”
You uncross. The sharp peaks to his fangs glide upon your calf muscles, following the path that continues. As he nears past your knee, your heart picks up speed like the hem of your dress rising over your legs.
You lean back to brace yourself when he pulls you closer to the edge by the back your thighs. “Why take from you when your body will naturally give it to me?”
His thumbs spread your lips apart on display and you gleam brighter than the jewels on his coat, "There she is" he whispers with adoration, "there's my meal"
You feel his hunger on you like the hot breath of a starved beast. “S-so you're willing to go weeks without eating just to-mmh”
A tender kiss against your folds is enough to silence you. He grips your skin tight like an answer. With his mouth full of you he nods slowly.
Of course it doesn’t come without consequence, you comb back the long gentle strands that frame his face and hold for dear life as he ravages you. It’s been too long, you can hear him swallow eager as you gush. The pain that lingered in your belly begins to dissolve with the warmth from his mouth.
“o-oh sylus..” you melt in his grip, shaking and he spreads you even wider apart , “don’t stop-”
You pull his face closer into you, against your hole that he slides his tongue into greedily and you’re writhing, pushing your lower half into the fat length of his tongue.
He hums, agreeing with you, he would never dream of stopping now. The life you fill inside him has the effect of the richest wine. It brings heat pooling heavy under his eyes that hang low. Brings a hunger that only fuels him, and you're pulling his hair back, but he doesn’t move. Not even an inch.
There’s an unworldly glimmer in his eye as you give yourself to him and he encourages it. He can feel you move about in his body, the same way you feel him slipping inside your hole again and again. You're making a home within his soul, where you’ll reside even past death and he will keep you there selfishly like the way you squeeze to trap him.
My love. My dearest wife. A vow he signs with his soaked tongue on your clit while his eyes find you. Like a signature, every letter matches every bit of his intention. My devotion, my other half, my body and soul.
And it's sealed with a kiss like the drip of hot wax.
He replaces your thighs for your hands in his and groans with the way your thighs immediately close in like chains. Your fingers intertwine the same as you pin him to your pussy and buck your hips into his mouth. “‘mm so close” you whine, eyes shutting as your head tilts, “sylus”
“Please” He pants, he begs, "let me have you."
Truly his greed knows no bounds especially if you keep expanding the borders. But he’s guilty of doing the same for you, letting you use him and his hunger. Letting you bump your clit along the edge of his nose and and tremble into his awaiting mouth.
He lets the sodden sounds of your folds bury him. It travels through the otherwise silent church. Your temple, a hidden place in which you worship each other outside the bounds of an audience.
You break with a cry for only his eyes and ears to witness. The arch of your back is just as delicious as the current you flood down his throat. You tighten before you release and he spreads you open again to take his prize. The one he's been dreaming about within the coffin the two of you sleep in when night breaks.
Sweeter than his visions, fantasies from long ago, patience has truly taught him a lesson he will remember.
When you settle, his head raises to show what you have done to him. White hair unruly, wild, eyes in a haze while blood covers the lower half of his face.
Like the rise of the moon, he comes up to hover above you. Face so close the smell of iron fans your lips. Eyes captivating.
“Husband” you say to him and to the immortal soul that resides in him
“Wife” he replies just the same
Your hand comes to cup the side of his face, to reach toward the back of his neck and he’s already falling into you. Your back hits the altar once more as his mouth floods the taste of the rawest parts of you. But within it you find him, and he slots somewhere deep in your chest the moment his lips find yours. Fangs kiss your bottom lip with every drag of his teeth.
A gloved hand holds the back of your head as you lick yourself from his tongue, from his lips when he parts to see his world in your eyes.
“We are not done here wife” he says, another promise that comes with a prideful little smirk on his pink lips. It creeps close to your ear, “You will feed me until I am completely satisfied.”
So trying to get your attention when you’re unbelievably oblivious is his favorite, most frustrating pastime.
It’s even worse that you’re such a hopeless romantic. You read stories and play games involving the delights of romance that make you blush, bite your lip, and squirm in barely self-contained delight. Yet, when Sylus presents you with flowers or takes you on a one-on-one outing watching the sunset drift into starlight, your adorably oblivious self sees it as nothing more than kind gestures of a friend.
A bestie.
Sylus regularly gets into his own room after such outings, frustrated in a way that has his ears red and an incredulous laugh squeezing its way out of him. He has to take cold showers regularly after seeing you.
You touch him without so much as a thought, but shy away when he wants to also engage in such casual closeness. You were far more an expert of playing hot and cold with him, and you weren’t even trying.
It all changes when you suggest a silly little drinking game while you show him yet another one of your favorite shows. It’s not enough that you were both knocking back constant shots, but it was enough that Sylus stared at you more than usual.
And when you finally ask why he was staring?
He’s grabbing your jaw, rubbing a thumb on your bottom lip.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks.” He murmurs low. “Yet you still somehow don’t get it.”
He’s crowding your space now. The heat on your face isn’t just the alcohol. You know you could push him away and he’d listen, but-
“I want you.” He breathes against your lips, nose brushing yours. “I need you.”
Your lungs only fuel the faintest whimper when his hips naturally settle between your thighs. You didn’t even realize you were gripping him closer with clawed fingers in his upper arms.
“Tell me… tell me you want me too.” He’s growling against your lips until you finally close that last little bit of space between you.
romaincrisis
stormborns
origamiaround
gummygunk
jacobvanloon
dededos
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
