Angel of Artemis

he buys her the nicest treats. she begs for ham from the lunchmeat drawer of the fridge instead.

he buys her the flashiest toys. she bats around cotton swabs and tin foil balls instead.

he buys her the softest cat bed. she likes to sleep on whatever clothes are laying on the floor instead.

he buys- and assembles!- the best cat tree on the market, only for her to be fascinated by its box instead.

"just the check, please."

sylus's low voice makes you perk up from where you're eating the last bites of your dessert. mischief bubbles in your chest. you set down your fork and start rummaging through your bag.

"what are you doing?" sylus asks, eyebrow arching.

you can practically hear his thoughts. he's definitely wondering why you've decided to look through your bag after he asked for the check. the two of you have had this conversation many times before. he'll pay for any and all of your dates, regardless if you're planning to use the card he had given you.

you give him an innocuous smile. "just looking for my phone." you casually excuse yourself. sylus easily lets his suspicions go, especially since the waiter has arrived with the check.

you've seen videos of people handing their partner's cash or their card to see their reactions. even though you know how sylus would react, you would never pass up the chance to prank him. so, as you grab your phone, you also grab your personal credit card, keeping the card hidden in your hand.

taking out his wallet, sylus gives a cursory glance at the receipt, and you make your move.

with the low lights of the restaurant, all you can see is sylus's amused smirk as your hand scoots over towards him. you lift your hand and beneath it is your credit card. you watch, amused, as sylus's smirk falls. without even looking away from the receipt book, he flicks the card back towards you. you let out a gasping laugh at his actions.

sylus places his card in the book, closes it, and hands it to the waiter. he turns back towards you and playfully tsks at you.

"you know better, darling." his low drawl combined with the amusement in his red eyes makes you laugh a little harder.

"do i?" you crone out, fluttering your eyelashes playfully.

"even if you don't—" sylus's eyes go half-lidded a bit. "—i can certainly teach you once more."

Sylus is only going to start accepting your apologies if you come up to him like this, naked as the day you were born, a pout on your face because you're upset you have to apologize not because you actually want to. Either way, the apology is going in one ear and out the other as he watches you sway on your feet, bounce on your heels, struggle to hold his gaze because those crimson eyes are zeroed in on your bare, jiggling chest and hardening nipples and...

“i didn’t say to stop, did i?”

you whine softly from your place on the bed. your hair is mussed and fans around your face like a halo, legs spread wide as two of your fingers bully their way back into your entrance.

sylus sits across from you, unfazed. he’s got his glasses on, squinting at something on his screen, barely throwing you a glance when you let out another needy whimper.

“patience, kitten. there’s a sale on this silk one. look, it’s got lace—isn’t it pretty?”

you bite back a groan of frustration. the light of sylus’ laptop is bright, enhancing the slick, shining gleam of your gummy walls. you’ve gone back to incessantly rubbing tight, little circles around your clit, keening at the sloppy friction.

“sylus,” you nearly sob. “please, jus’ buy the lingerie ‘n’ c’mere. wanna cum—and i—i miss you. need you.”

he tsks with a raised eyebrow. “you practically begged me to buy you a matching set earlier this evening. isn’t this what you wanted, sweetie?”

“not anymore!” your head feels dizzy from the pleasure, but your fingers slow on their own—you know better than to cum when sylus hasn’t given you the green light yet.

“now, i jus’ wan’ you.”

there’s a heavy pause. an even heavier sigh, and then the light from your husband’s laptop disappears with a firm click. all too soon there’s the familiar weight hovering above you accompanied by a calloused, warm hand grabbing you by the wrist.

“i suppose i’ll have to miss the sale this time around,” sylus muses, tongue flickering out to lap at your essence dripping down the knuckles of your finger. you let out a relieved moan at the sight.

“a pity, but no matter. i’ll just have to buy you multiple to make up for it.”

when he returns from hours of annoyances, cleaning up and pulling on his black velvet robe, he doesn’t slink into bed like usual, trying his best not to disturb you despite the thrill he gets when you’re cranky. instead, he wakes you without remorse, gathers your weakly protesting form in his arms, and carries you to his favorite armchair—the one that overlooks the bustling nightscape from the balcony.

and once he sinks into the seat, sylus holds you captive. 

his kisses linger all over. they torture you with long, wet, scandalous sounds, amplified when he sometimes drags his hot, rough tongue against your softer skin.

through it all, he’s grunting his pleasure, huffing your scent the way he longed to earlier. he’s anchoring you to his lap, holding you over his bulge, suppressing your squirms in every direction. his skin is so warm—too warm—and your body quickly follows suit. 

“can i move, sylus?” you whine into his ear.

he ignores you, much too entranced with your body. 

“sylus.”

a soft growl leaves him as he comes up for air—now is not the time for talking.

“why,” he whispers, pressing a slow kiss to your temple, “would you want to do that? are you not enjoying the sunrise as much as i am?” 

“it hurts.” you gesture shyly between your legs, ghosting over your tingling clit. “and you’re not doing anything to make it better—just making it worse,” you slur, still disoriented from ruined sleep. “it’s uncomfy.” 

you feel his chuckle more than hear it—hot, heavy pants setting your nerves aflame. “uncomfy, hm?”

“yes. it’s too much.” to prove your point, you try to wriggle away. arms lock around your waist like iron. 

“ask me nicely.”

“please. i’ll stay here. just wanna get comfy.”

right where he wants to be

HEAOIJDOISW he's their telephone fr!! 😂😂

Sylus is a certified menace, but he is always particularly feral whenever you are on your period, because he insists that your menstrual blood is a delicacy and he must have all of it immediately.

So here you are, straddling his face in your room already thick and sweltering with the scent of sex and blood. He refuses to let you lie on your back- apparently gravity helps the blood flow better this way💀. His strong hands grip your trembling thighs and yank you down until you’re properly sitting on his face.

His eyes glow bright red with hunger and excitement. “Mine,” he growls, voice low and raspy. “All of it.”

Your knees sink into the pillows on either side of his head, fingers gripping the headboard as his nose presses firmly against your swollen clit. He takes a long, audible sniff and you flush hot from head to toe. Then his wet, merciless tongue delves deep, lapping and thrusting into your slick, bloody cunt with obscene hunger. Wet, rhythmic slurps fill the room- loud, filthy, shameless. He drinks you like fine wine, blood and arousal mixing into a hot, slippery mess that coats his lips, chin, and tongue.

“Ahhh!!! fuck-” you whimper, grinding down instinctively. The wetness makes everything glide so easily; your pussy slides messily over his mouth as fresh blood and slick drip onto him with every roll of your hips, turning his face shiny and red.

He looks like pure depravity- blood staining him from nose to chin and neck.

Sylus groans loudly, the vibration shooting straight to your core. “Are you… hahh…” he manages between greedy sucks, voice muffled and wet, “in pain?”

“No! No- ahhhhh!” Your answer fractures into a sharp cry as his nose nudges your clit again, perfect pressure, while his tongue curls inside you, scooping more of your bloody essence into his mouth.

You buck hard, clit rubbing against the bridge of his nose in slippery strokes. “It’s so good, Sylus… so fucking good-”

His fingers join in, scissoring your folds open so more crimson slick pours onto his tongue. A mortified moan escapes you when you feel a blood clot slide directly into his mouth.

He swallows it greedily.

“Sylus! What the fuck-ohhh…oh my god....”

He answers by latching onto your pussy and sucking even harder, a low sound of pure satisfaction rumbling against you as another rush of blood flows over his tongue. His face is drenched, rivulets running down his cheeks and soaking the pillow beneath his head. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth and fingers are downright obscene.

You ride his face shamelessly now, hips rolling in sloppy circles, dragging your dripping cunt across his tongue, nose, and chin. Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, pulling him impossibly closer as your orgasm builds fast and brutal.

“More,” he snarls against your pussy, the word barely resembling the human elegance he wears to mask his true nature. He tilts his head and grips you to his mouth harder, tongue fucking you deeper, lapping up every fresh gush of blood and slick like he couldn’t get enough. The lewd, squelching noises grow louder as you get wetter, messier, grinding faster. Your thighs shake, juices and blood coating his entire lower face in a glistening sheen.

“Sylus... gonna- ahhh fuck!! I’m-”

He moans in response, the sound vibrating through your core, and sucks your clit between his lips hard while his fingers keep working inside you till you finally tip over the edge.

You come with a broken scream, hips jerking wildly, flooding his mouth with another hot gush of slick and crimson. Sylus growls in ecstasy, swallowing every drop, still lapping lazily through the aftershocks, milking you for more.