blue

Then, he asked you to sit in this dark room for a good twenty minutes, to help your eyes adjust better for seeing later.

He had stepped out to the adjoining terrace for a while, leaving you with your thoughts.

And now, as steam floated upwards from your cup, your mind drifted back to the manor’s opulent indoor pool, to all the things that made you warm earlier this evening.

The warmth of the balmy air that brushed against your face and across your skin, soothing and calming. Candlelights flickered and cast warm hues on the walls.

The warmth on your feet and legs as you dipped into the waters of the hot spring. You sat down on a shallow step, a sigh escaping as you started to relax.

The warmth on your cheeks that bloomed in surprise when Sylus appeared by the entryway in nothing but flimsy decorative body chains and a short sarong hung dangerously low around his hips. His signature smirk framed his face as he watched your reaction.

The warmth on your face that steadily increased as your appreciative eyes tracked his movements. His confident strides swiftly took him to sit a step below you, right between your legs, taking your thighs for armrests as he leans back into you.

The warmth of his scent that pervaded your senses, earthy and smoky and sensual, your natural personal aphrodisiac.

Unfair, you had thought, why should you be the only one feeling like this? So you took advantage of your position to tease his body with featherlight touches, slowly running your lips over his shoulder then nipping his ear, and even pressing your foot near his—

The warmth of his body suddenly covering yours to lay on shallow waters, movement that caused the water around you to splash and ripple. Your hands clung to his neck while his heated hands roamed all over your skin, before settling to grip hard on your hips.

The warmth of his tongue pressing on yours, breaths mingling, rough kisses laying claim on your lips, needy, hungry, and urgent.

The warmth that spread to your heart when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, of being and fulfilling each other’s desires.

The warmth that shot down your spine when you saw his left eye start to glow.

The heat that coursed through your veins as friction pushed and pulled to build pressure deep in your core… and the warmth of release when it finally plunged you into pleasure, leaving you gasping for air.

Sylus said something then, but you can’t remember.

He carried you towards a wide stone altar nearby, and guided you to bend forward on the surface as his large frame eclipsed you from behind.

Arms stretched out before you, he held both of your hands together as though joined in solemn prayer. As if desperate to draw out an answer to a burning question, he whispered roughly, “the altar as our witness, tell me… I am what you desire too.”

And when his palm landed heavy on your behind—

“Sweetie?”

Startled from your thoughts, you had failed to notice Sylus already standing beside you. “Shall we?”

Warm, you think once more, embarrassed at being caught in the middle of an intimate memory.

And again, you notice the little traces of warmth all around.

The warmth of the tea that you quickly finished, letting it soothe your body, grounding you, keeping you awake despite the late hour.

The warmth of his jacket that he carefully draped around your shoulders, too large for your frame, to keep away the cold night wind that was rustling through the trees.

The warmth of his palm when he reached for your hand, steadying you as you walked through the doors and out the wide stone terrace.

The warmth of your exhale when you gasped in awe as you finally saw the view. A mountain range stood proudly in the distance, with its center sloping down into a valley. In the darkness, the v-shaped silhouette looked like a pair of hands turned upwards, catching a cloudy, hazy band of light pouring out from the sky, dotted with thousands of tiny twinkling stars. Seeing this, it feels like the galaxy is within reach.

The warmth of his smile when you caught him gazing at you instead, taking in every reaction you make.

The warmth of his embrace when solid arms encircled your waist from behind, chest flushed to your back, chin resting lightly on your head. You chuckle when you feel him nosing through your hair, as he often does.

The warmth of his scent surrounding you again, earthy and smoky and sensual, but it anchors you now. You’ve long associated it with comfort and home.

The warmth of this quiet companionship as you both take in the stunning view, hearts full and content.

The warmth of his breath when he nuzzles the crook of your neck, inhaling and leaving light kisses against your skin.

The warmth that shot down your spine when he broke the silence with two words. “Marry me,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through your back.

You stilled for a moment.

Breaking free from his arms, you turn around so that you can look into his eyes. “What?”

He looked back at you with a questioning gaze of his own, as if wondering why you’re trying to confirm the most obvious thing, when it’s all he could think about.

“Exactly what I said.” He smiled, trailing his fingers down your cheek. “All this,” he looks back towards the manor behind him, then up at the stars. “Means nothing if I’m not with you. My desire is always you. It has never changed, and it never will.”

You suddenly feel your whole face warm. Knowing what he said is true, your heart wants to respond in kind.

But all that you blurted out was… “are you trying to propose without a ring?”

His smile twitched in wry amusement. “I would never.”

So you wait for him to bring it out, or get on one knee, but instead he was taking a step or two backwards.

“Why don’t you come here and find it?” He challenges, with that annoying smirk on his annoyingly handsome face. He even has the audacity to laugh at your expression.

This man— You should’ve known that he wouldn’t conform to conventions.

But you love him for it.

So you pounced on him with all your might, managing to make him stumble in surprise, tackling him to the floor.

Kneeling over his lying form between your legs, you ignore his oofs and grunts (and one playful plea for mercy) as you swiftly— and heavy-handedly while you’re at it— patted around his shirt and pants.

“Hah!” Extracting a small velvet box, you hold it victoriously over your head, opening it to find…

It’s empty.

Sylus laughs heartily, easily catching the box when you threw it at his face. “Such a ferocious kitten I have. You never fail to surprise me.”

He sits up, guiding your hips down to straddle his lap. Holding your hands together between his, he turns them palms up, where a pair of rings materialize from black and red smoke. The rings are a couple’s set of matching black gems, beautifully set in intricately wrought silver.

Mouth slightly agape, you stare at both rings. You can’t help but admire the soft sparkle of the gemstones.

While he’s admiring the sparkle in your eyes.

“Marry me.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours, the warmth of his breath grazing your face.

Unfair, you thought, as you look into his adoring eyes and see only warmth and sincerity within, his indulgent smile a familiar privilege ever only shown to you.

You feel your blood rushing through your veins as joy start to sink in, heart pounding wildly, a smile forming on your lips.

Your answer is in the kiss you give him, then quickly slip his ring on his finger as you whisper, “mine.”

His smile grows wider, an almost boyish grin you’ve never seen on him before, indulging himself in the happiness of this moment.

He chases your lips with a few kisses of his own before taking your ring to slide on your finger. His thumb rubs circles over your knuckles, a satisfied look on his face. “Mine.”

“I love you.” You smile and cup his cheeks with both hands, the ring on your finger shining quietly in affirmation.

His warm hands come up to gently grasp your wrists, the ring on his finger shining to testify in turn. “I love you too, my beloved. More than you will ever know.”

Yes, you will always remember the warmth of this night.

AN — Being with Sylus means: ✓ Body pat-down challenges to get a small item on him. Examples: the brooch, a leaf, the crow chip (during his birthdays), your ring. ✓ Will think you’re flirting if you throw small boxes at his face. ✓ Boba eyes to get his way. He knows it’s your weakness. He used it as he expectantly waited for your answer.

Thank you for reading! Comments appreciated!

💞 @abyssyby it’s here! thank you for being a source of energy!!!

Building Background

The Gilardi House was commissioned by advertising executive Pancho Gilardi to be built on a plot in a densely populated area of Mexico City in 1975, when Luis Barragán (1902-1988), the architect, was already "retired". The first thing Barragán focused on was the Jacaranda tree (pictured in the middle of the courtyard), and he told Gilardi that it shouldn't be felled, since the house would be built around it.

With this commission - the last house he designed - Barragán was completely free to do what he wanted, and the result is a colourful modernist building with a very unique interior pool, which I couldn't really do justice in the Sims, so I compromised and created a semi-outdoor indoor pool. The original building has a much broader colour palette than I used, and I wish I could have found an adequate version of the gorgeous yellow windows.

Barragán is also known for the Torres de Satélite (1957), a group of large sculptures and the Cuadra San Cristóbal (1966-1968).

Sources:

great short film of the house, Spanish with English subtitles

photos from a house tour in 2023

Barragán Foundation page for the Gilardi House

So what do you get?

Casa Gilardi is a 30x20 residential lot that is best placed in Ciudad Enamorada, but could potentially also work in Tomarang, Oasis Springs or Ondarion. I’ve placed the lot on the “Mansión de la Pasión" lot in the Vista Hermosa neighbourhood, but the Casita del Amor lot in the same neighbourhood would work as well.

The lot consists of 3 floors. There are 2-3 bedrooms, depending on how you'll use the rooms. If you don't need/want the garage on the first floor, you can simply make the kitchen & dining room bigger like this:

Uses items from the following packs: pretty much all expansion packs and a few GP packs. No stuff packs or kits // a tip; take a look at the build in the gallery and click on the pack icons to see what items I used.

Download: gallery ID: aeromantica (but you’ll need the CC from the SFS folder): SFS (150mb)

Is the CC included?  Yes, everything’s included. 

TOU:  Please don’t claim it as your own or put it behind a paywall. If you find any issues (wrong/missing files) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the build, I’d absolutely love to see it in your games!

As he takes in the sight of you, swaddled in fabric and swaying slightly from lingering sleep, the intensity he had for the game vanishes instantly. His lips pull into a small, helpless smile as his expression softens into unguarded love. He looks utterly defeated by the sight of his sleepy wife, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

"Hey, angel,” he whispers. Without waiting for you to speak, he pushes his chair back from the desk and reaches out with one arm, beckoning you over. "Come here."

Hauling you into his lap easily, he settles you sideways across his thighs before carefully tucking the edges of the duvet around your feet. You don't even have to find your spot; you lean into him naturally, your head resting against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat is steady and strong under your ear, acting as the perfect lullaby.

He slides his headset back on, but his movements change. He’s playing at a disadvantage now, having to reach around you to hit the keys, but he doesn’t seem to care. Every now and then, his large hand mindlessly rubs your arm through the blanket in a soothing motion that pulls you back toward sleep.

Through the faint leak from his headphones, Satoru’s shouts crackle, but the volume is suddenly cut in half. Sukuna quickly turns the volume down so the boys’ voices don’t startle you. He stops talking back to them altogether, communicating only in short, quiet grunts or silent pings on the map.

He finishes the match without moving even an inch, letting you breathe against him, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

The lobby music hums at a low, nearly imperceptible level as Sukuna waits for the next match to load. Satoru is midway through a loud story about a botched order at the bakery, Suguru openly mocks the white-haired man, and Choso offers dry commentary in the background. Sukuna barely hears them, tuning them out almost entirely, keeping his attention fixed on the weight of you in his lap. 

Looking down, he notices your breathing has finally slowed into true sleep. A heavy, quiet warmth settles in his chest, leaving him completely undone by the simple reality that you’re his.

Sukuna reaches out with his free hand, and his thick fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. He tucks it behind your ear, his thumb lingering for a second to graze the shell of it, amused by how you don’t even stir under his touch. In moments like these, he knows exactly how lucky he is.

His hand slides further down, slipping beneath the edge of the blanket to find the small of your back. Blunt nails trace the slow patterns you love as he gently scratches your back. He feels you melt further against him in your sleep, your body relaxing into his warmth as if you’re subconsciously acknowledging his care. 

Even as the game finally finds a match and the loading screen flashes, he doesn’t pull his hand away. He keeps that steady, soothing motion going, his gaze lingering on your peaceful face for a moment longer before he finally turns his attention back to the monitors.

After another game like that, the clicking stops, but you’re sleeping too deeply to notice the difference. Sukuna doesn’t wake you, gently hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, then standing up from the gaming chair effortlessly.

When he reaches the bed, he lowers his massive frame onto the sheets, keeping you tucked firmly against his chest. He pulls the heavy comforter over both of you, wraps his arm around your waist, and presses a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your hair.

"Softie," you mumble into his chest, barely conscious.

There’s no point in denying it, so he lets out a long exhale, rolling his eyes, his hand splayed flat against your back to keep you close. He hooks one of his thick legs over yours, tangling your bodies together, and the heat coming off him makes the rest of the cold room disappear.

"Go to sleep, brat," he mutters back, his voice thick with tenderness. 

He gives your waist one last, gentle squeeze before he finally closes his eyes and lets his own exhaustion take over, his grip never loosening even as he falls into a deep sleep.

a/n: domestic sukuna masterlist