purus opalus

you take a tentative, wobbly step forward, stomping loudly. STOMP. STOMP. you raise your arms like a huge robot. “fear me,” you announce to the empty room, “i am the leader of onychinus. give me all your gold...and dark secrets!”

“is that right?” you hear a low voice say.

you freeeze.

sylus is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watches you. he looks like he’s been standing there for a while. your face burns hot but you refuse to break character. you Puff out your chest, “yes, hand over the goods, civilian!”

sylus dosen’t move. he just looks down at your feet, then up to the shirt that swallows your frame. a slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his face but his ruby eyes are soft and melted.

“you lack...a certain menace,” his deep voice rumbles, thick with amusement.

“hey, i have tons of menace!” you say, taking a step forward to prove your point, but your foot slips right out of the boot. you lose your balance and yelp, tumbling forward.

before you can fall, heavy, warm weight catches you. sylus has scooped you up by the waist with one hand; he lifts you effortlessly, laughing a low gravelly chuckle that vibrates against you. he dosen’t put you down. instead, he simply carries you over to the plush armchair, sitting down and keeping you right on his lap.

“hey!” you protest, kicking your feet. now one of his giant boots falls off entirely. “put me down, sir. i’m a threat.” you say with a that coy smile.

“mhm, a terrifying one,” sylus murmurs, reaching up with his index finger to boop your nose. “you’re drowning in my clothes, sweetie.”

“it’s comfortable,” you pout, crossing your arms.

sylus smiles. “they look better on you anyway,” he says smoothly. he wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his clean scent enveloping you. he gives you a tight, playful squeeze that makes you gasp-laugh.

“sylus stop, it tickles!” you say, laughing, unable to stop.

Sylus x fem!reader — you smell amazing | smut |

warnings: breeding, mating press, squirting. >.> not beta’d we die 💀

ever since you’ve landed in these hot springs, your mind is dizzy. sylus’ scent changes to the exact thing that you want. when you want. he’s awfully smug about it these days too. all animals are latched onto him like he is their messiah, and then… there’s you. gulping loudly, swallowing thickly, sweating at the forehead and awfully distracted because your man has never been more… sexier. your body is reacting on a physical level to this shit. god damn…

“someone is very obvious now.” sylus hums smugly, watching your nose glide against his bicep like he’s cocaine. and you’re a struggling addict.

you pinch him gently, “i know you love this all too much, me acting like an omega in heat.” you huff, but you don’t move from him. you are bold, yes, but this is making you nauseatingly needy.

you straddle his lap next, making sure to nestle yourself perfectly on his bulge. “i can’t… just let you be smug all you want.” you hold his face in one hand.

sylus’ eyes are glowing, a lazy grin plastered on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “uh oh, this kitten loves her catnip.”

his large and looming hands knead at your ass. “didn’t you want to go out on an adventure today?” he purrs, leaning in against the shell of your ear in a low, reverberating hum that echoes through your core. “or do you want to change plans into staying at home. unable to move… when i’m done with you, hm?”

before you could retort in a sarcasm laced response, his big hand wraps around your neck, squeezing at the sides and reminding you just how good it feels to be loved by sylus. you gasp softly, and that opportunity is bagged by your dragon instantly. tongue shoved against your mouth with a carnal, almost-brute like growl.

you suckle at his tongue, shoulders slumping in relaxation, it’s short lived. the heat pooling in your gut is the biggest distraction that makes you greedy and insatiable right now. sylus chuckles softly, his melodious, borderline mocking laugh. he is reveling in this. being wanted. he is always wanted, however… this scratches an itch in his brain that is only animalistic. you are going crazy on his scent.

you feel feverish with the way goosebumps prickle on your skin, body having a mind of her own as you grind up against him. he purrs, “it’s okay kitten. i will give you what you want. until you beg me to stop.”

oh this man—

before you could say anything else. you’re flipped on your back on the bed, sylus mounting you instantly, your clothes are ripped off, the sound of fabric giving up only makes you giggle. it signifies that you’re not the only one who is insatiable; matched with his glowing eyes and the way he smirks… like he would eat you alive. bones and soul.

your legs are hiked up, knees on your shoulders as your leaking cunt gets exposed to him. “oh… kitten. this is the scent that beats all others…” sylus purrs, leaning into it and taking a deep whiff of you. you whine at his words, and the way your walls twitch around nothing for more.

your brain is numbed, yet, your hands reflexively lean up to fondle with his pants and zip. “ah ah…” he swats your hand with a hum. “be patient, kitten.”

his thick, vein decorated cock nestles against your bare skin. reaching your navel. angry and pulsing on his own. “i will ruin you so good...” he chuckles, watching it, musing with a sickness and imagining first hand how deep his cock will reach. it gives him a dirty satisfaction. your body unable to do anything at all but take, and take, and take what he plans to give you.

he slides in to the hilt, white happy trail caressing your clit as he shifts his hips to bury his cock deep. the way it feels is almost violating all the time. no matter how many times you take sylus, no matter how many times you’ve cockwarmed him. it feels like something that shouldn’t exist. your poor rim stretches paper thin around his base.

“hnn- oh god-“ you shake your head. “please- sylus-“

then he starts moving, not slow. oh- shit— not slow at all. every thrust feels like he is ploughing your body from the inside. balls slapping against your crack. the way his scent engulfs you right now, makes you dizzy. eyes rolling backwards in pure, unadulterated surrender.

your gaze has never turned submissive more quickly, it’s all him. the way you squirm for relief, hands pinned above your head instantly. “no no. don’t you dare run away from me.” he taps your cheek softly, no— it’s not a slap. it does ground you innately however.

“i told you kitten-“ his voice sounds jerky with the way his cock is bullying your pussy. thrusts sharp and brutal, kissing your cervix every single time. fat mushroom tip spearing your insides hollow. “i will make sure you stay here and take it. you wanted this didn’t you?”

you nod like a bobble head. “hnngh- ha- yeah- yeah i wanted this-“ you shake your head, lean it back. anything and everything to get used to the mind-numbing pleasure he is giving you.

“then spray on me. hmm? go on… i won’t let you go unless you squirt on me.” he chuckles darkly, hand leaning down to rub your clit in circles, all in tandem with his thrusts. his hand wrapping around both your wrists pinning and tightening further.

you feel the familiar coil in your body snap, and gush around him. spraying down his abs and orgasming so intensely it feels like you’re seizing. “oh good girl-“

“that’s it, gooood girl.” his cock jumps against your fluttering pussy. “massage my cock, just like that.” he commands, watching how your core twitches and clenches. he topples off the edge, hot and sticky seed breeding and coating your walls.

it satiates something inside you that you couldn’t name. but knew it needed to be satiated…

he turns you on your belly immediately after, one crisp slap falling on the curve of your ass cheek. “oh? did you think we’re done, kitten?”

sylus, of course, had simply nodded. “if that’s what you want.”

now he’s standing beside you, too straight, too still, like he’s been positioned there for inspection. you glance over and immediately sigh.

“you look like you’re about to interrogate the camera."

“im standing,” he replies calmly.

“that’s not the issue.”

you step closer before you can overthink it, fingers catching the front of his coat as you gently tug him down. He follows without resistance, but now he’s too close... close enough that your breath catches.

you ignore your rapid heartbeat, lifting your phone. “just, look at the camera. and maybe… try smiling?”

“i am.”

“you’re not.”

“this is my neutral expression.”

“that’s worse.”

before the awkwardness can swallow you whole, you act on instinct, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek just as the camera clicks. you pull back, already reaching to check the photo, then pause. sylus hasn’t moved.

his eyes are on you now, not the phone, not the camera, just you. something in his expression has shifted, composure slipping just enough to make your chest tighten.

“…what was that?” he asks quietly.

“a kiss?” you say, suddenly very aware of how close you still are.

“i’m aware.” his gaze flickers briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. “…why?”

“it’s normal,” you mumble. “couples do that in photos.”

he goes quiet for a second, like he’s processing that. then his hand comes up, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing your jaw as he tilts your face toward him.

“stay still.”

your heart stutters. he leans in, close enough that you think, this is it... click. you blink.

“…did you just...”

he tilts the phone toward you. the photo shows you completely flustered, him closer than before, hand still on your face, except he’s not looking at the camera. he’s looking at you.

“…you didn’t even face the camera,” you mumble.

“…why would I,” he says softly, “when you’re right here?”

your face burns instantly.

“…take another one,” he adds.

you glance up. “…you want another?”

“yes.”

this time, when you lift the phone, he doesn’t need guidance. his arm comes around you naturally, pulling you closer like it belongs there.

heartbreakingly beautiful.

He's not even sure of the surroundings or circumstances he's in, because suddenly you're all he can focus on: your white dress and poised beauty, and the way your eyes don't convey quite the same joy as your graceful smile.

He supposes quite like one is drawn to a tragedy despite being slowly set up to experience a deep and wrenching pain, he got entrapped by you.

Elegance and guilt; ethereal sin.

Behind the sad gaze something akin to a fire burns dark, hypnotising him.

A marvellous fairy-like creature with blood stained hands.

He watches you maneuver the gown you're donning like a corpse getting dragged around, yet you're in no rush as if you don't feel out of place or out of time.

you don’t even know why you say it. you’re not the praising type. not really. you tease. you moan. you beg sometimes when he makes you—when he’s in one of those moods, all pushy and mean, telling you to use your manners, sweetheart, like he isn’t already two fingers deep and spreading you open slow just to watch your eyes roll.

and sylus isn’t the kind of guy who needs it either. he’s cold. not just at work. always. cold voice, cold hands, cold look over his shoulder like he’s already ten steps past you in his head. nobody phases him. nobody cracks him. nobody gets to touch him and see him at the same time.

but you do.

and he lets you.

and right now—he’s letting you fuck him soft and slow, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, your hips rolling lazy on top of his while his hand’s curled low around your ass, guiding you, controlling you even when you’re the one on top. that’s how he likes it. how he needs it.

so maybe it’s that. maybe it’s the look on his face. maybe it’s the way his brows are twitching together, like he’s fighting something off—like if he lets you go even a little harder he’s gonna say something stupid, something real.

you’re already gone. you feel too good. you’re too wet. you’re not thinking. so you say it. “you feel so good, sylus.” just like that. soft. breathy. like you mean it. and the second you do—he freezes.

not all the way, not like he’s pulling back. more like he’s startled. like you hit something he didn’t know was there.

“…what?”

you blink down at him, rocking slow. “i said you feel good—”

“don’t.” his voice is raw. strained. quiet like it’s been scraped thin.

you laugh a little, teasing. “what, i’m not allowed to praise you now?”

“no,” he mutters. “you’re not.”

but he’s gripping you harder. his thighs are trembling. he’s looking at you like he’s pissed, but underneath it—underneath that perfect, surgical composure—he’s wrecked.

and you know why. you know him. you know this man who never needs anything, who never lets anyone in, who fucks you like he’s punishing himself for liking it—and now you know what breaks him.

“baby,” you whisper, soft as sin. “you’re so deep. you’re so good to me—so fucking good—”

his breath hitches. he shudders. his grip goes punishing and he grits through his teeth, “shut up,” but it’s not mean. it’s not real. it’s desperate.

so of course you don’t. of course you ride him slow and stroke his face and kiss his jaw and say, “you make me feel so good. you’re perfect. you always take care of me. nobody fucks me like you do—”

and that’s what does it. that. right there. because suddenly he’s groaning into your mouth like he’s never cum before in his life, like you’re fucking wringing the soul out of him with every word, every grind, every good boy whispered between your kisses.

he bucks once. spills deep. and he goes completely still underneath you, eyes wide, lips parted, chest heaving while he shoots every last drop into you without warning, without even knowing it’s happening until it’s too late, until you’re clenching around him and stroking his hair and smiling down like you knew this would happen all along.

you kiss his cheek. he doesn’t move.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you—fuck. don’t ever say that again.”

you laugh. and kiss him harder.

🔞NSFW | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

Synopsis: You are the Countess who has married and summoned the Archfiend Sovereign. Now, the Silverwinged Fiend is your devoted husband, prepared to indulge your every desire.

Rating: Explicit (just straight up smut with no plot). This work is only intended for a mature audience.

Word count: 1k

Tags: Smut, PwP, vampire!sex, married!sex, P in V sex, missionary, vampire biting, blood drinking, bloody kisses, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, clothed Sylus, naked MC, needy MC, Second Person PoV

You can also read this fic on AO3

"My dearest wife," Sylus purred, thrusting his hips deeper into you. He barely had any patience to unbutton his coat and push down his trousers just enough to free his length, before he took you.

After all, you were such a delicious feast, all sprawled out naked on your marital bed, the crimson sheets decorated with rose petals as you waited for your husband. The moment he drew away the curtain of the canopy, you had bitten you lip and whined how much you needed him. With inhuman speed, he obeyed your command.

You press your body to one side of his, until you’re basically molded against him. Your heart lays above his, it’s beating harmonizing with his own until they inevitably sync together.

Your head rests slightly on his collarbone, your face lingering just above his neck leaving your nose to occasionally bump it after a deep breath. Breaths which fan across his skin and give him little goosebumps.

Though it isn’t any of this that truely catches his attention.

One of your hands lays gently on his chest.

Sprawled exactly where in a past life a final blow had taken his life.

Your fingers graze where the gash would have been, leaving soft touches instead of dripping blood.

You’re unaware of what had happened ages ago, though subconsciously you apologize. Holding him close now as you couldn’t before. Perhaps it was part of your soul coming to its peace as you laid with him now.

His hand shakes slightly as it comes to trace your own, he turns, placing a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to focus once again on your steady breaths and your heart's rhythmic beat.

Mans is struggling to keep his hands to himself. Not even sexually. Just like he needs to remind himself ur there so he always needs to touch u

At first it’s just little things. Brushing against u when there is clearly enough room. Pulling u close whenever u look like ur leaning toward him. Hugging u just slightly longer than expected.

Eventually u figure out his love language is very touchy (and lets be honest he thrives on all the other languages as well) and tell him he doesn’t have to wait for u to instigate cuddles or being close.

This was a mistake (no it’s not). This man is the definition of clingy. And he straight up melts into you whenever he gets the chance.

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮‧₊ ᵎᵎ

It doesn't matter if he knows how to do something or not, he is either learning to do it himself or paying for someone who does it.

He is just the most competent man alive and will go through legal and illegal methods of problem solving for you. Whether the matter is as simple as building a new vanity for your bedroom, spending and searching through all the internet for that niche scent perfume or picking you up from missions that went down, he is always finding a way out.

Love the way he is always trying to make everything easier for you, and of course he gets his share of happiness in the process, cause nothing is more fulfilling for him than making your worries go away.

It´s really easy with him actually, because you know that he has seen the worst of the world, the worst of people and is not afraid of it. You could have the darkest of secrets and the worst of the problems and all he would give you is love and support.

Of course he loves seeing you all empowered, shooting wanderers, driving your motorcycle at some speeds he finds impressive, winning kitty cups, whatever that makes you have that glow of confidence he loves, but he still relish in the way you relax around him, how you don't have to overthink decisions, how your defense walls are down when he is around.

You could go to the end of the world and be fearless knowing that he is with you.

He says it's because you get the scary dog privilege from him that shields you from danger, you say it's because he makes you feel safe.

He doesn't know what to do when the words leave your mouth.

So he does what he knows best, he keeps you safe in his arms, shielded from wanders, bad people, worries, loneliness...

Yeah he can take everything you throw at him, test him.

"Touch me once

I'll lose control

Say my name

I'll sell my soul

I'm poison

I'm truth

Unless, of course, Sylus is accompanying you.

He's used to your hunter's uniforms, your comfy clothes that consist of oversized shirts with no bras and shorts that could be considered underwear. Your closet is an array of graphic tees and tighter blouses, sweatpants and ripped jeans, a handful of skirts and dresses.

Yet you always gravitate to the same five or six things when he's with you. Not that he's ever minded, he's a creature of habit himself. You like what you like, he can't blame you for that.

When you told him you'd be heading out with a couple of your close girlfriends for dinner and drinks, he expected something a little... different. "I'm about to leave, do you need anything?" You're finishing your mascara in the hallway mirror, blinking and turning your head in each direction to ensure your lashes are evenly coated.

"No, I'm alright. Do you need... any...thing..." Each word becomes a little weaker. He thought you'd wear jeans and a sweater, or maybe sweats. He wasn't expected to see so much... skin.

A lacy black body suit clung to your torso, hugging your breasts so tightly that they spilled just a bit over the top. The straps were thin, exposing all of your shoulders, dipping low to show most of your back. You paired it with a leather mini skirt, ending at your mid thigh and hugging your ass so sinfully Sylus found his throat drying up.

"I have the cash you slipped in my purse still, so I'm more than good." You finally looked at him - whether you heard him trailing off or not he couldn't tell. The look on your face was awfully innocent for someone dressed so sinfully. "Who are you going out with again?"

You began prattling off a few names, rummaging around your purse for your lip gloss. Blissfully - or purposely - unaware that he had set down the book he had been flipping through and began walking towards you. "And you trust them to stay with you all night?" You nearly leapt out of your own skin, fingers dropping the gloss back into your purse as you whipped your head up to look at him. "Sylus, don't start."

It was purely teasing, but it didn't stop his brow from twitching slightly. You really had no clue how tempting you looked in these clothes? "Don't start?" It's a hushed whisper, a step closer has you taking a small step back. "I trust you, Kitten. I think I've made that abundantly clear."

Another step closer, you feel your back ghost the mirror you had been look at only moments prior. "But you've lost your mind if you think I'm letting you walk out of our home looking like this." You flinch as the cold glass hits your bare skin, he's caging you against the wall with his body alone. One glance down at you are greeted with the visible bulge residing at the front of his trousers. "Sylus, I'm going to be late."

"Then tell them to push the reservations back."

"Sweetie, why is she looking at me like that?" Sylus asked, his tone matching with his expression of confusion and concern. His arms were crossed together, and his gaze was fixed intently on the curious, beautiful little newborn girl all bundled up in your cozy arms. It had been a while since his daughter had stared at him so deeply—as if she wished to gain something from him, and that's what Sylus had been wanting to figure out. He's capable of comprehending anything in range, yet this look from his daughter left him feeling puzzled and slightly uneasy.

You merely chuckled, cradling your daughter gently in your arms as you replied, "Maybe she wanted her daddy to hold her." That sentence had caught your husband off guard, with his dangerous ruby eyes widened in surprise, and his posture had gone stiff.

He immediately fixed up his composure with a phony cough and replied coolly. "Nonsense. A simple gaze does not translate to a desire for physical affection." You only smirked at his defensive response, shaking your head playfully. Your husband, Sylus, may look tough in the eyes of the oblivious; however, you know better.

He is just afraid of possibly hurting his little girl by his mere touch. After all, roughness and danger were second nature to him.

The way his toned arms are glued together like a shield, battling the itchiness of taking the initiative to show physical affection. His sharp eyes ever softening on his wide-eyed daughter, adjusting under the white swaddle. Feeling pity towards your husband, you decided to give him a little push.

"Ah, darling, my arms are a bit sore. Can you hold our daughter for me, please?" You pouted, batting your eyes at him to add a little charm to your request. Slowly, you extended out the baby to him with expectant eyes.

Everything paused for a moment, at least, in Sylus' space.

Can I do it? What a futile question. An onychinus leader doubting himself? He should punish himself for even considering such foolishness.

He nodded reluctantly, approaching you slowly at your hospital bed; his trembling hands reached out to your relaxed daughter, who was now looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. There was no hint of possible crying or discomfort from the baby. That's good; it's a head start.

He followed what he read tirelessly in the manual prior to the delivery. He secured her body around his arm while the other rested on the bum. And just like that, the baby remained calm under his steady touch.

His foolish delusions melted away the moment he was finally close to his daughter. The baby let out a small noise as if to acknowledge his presence, her mouth shaping an "o," and he chuckled at her adorable response. "Why hello there, little mouse."

You watched fondly at the tender moment between father and daughter; a moment of pride had swelled up in your heart as Sylus planted a kiss on your daughter's forehead, then turned his soft gaze to you. "You're doing great, honey," you praised, earning another chuckle, but out of playful arrogance, from your husband. "Of course I am," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.