𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂.ೃ࿔

It was nearing two in the morning, you simply couldn't sleep. Sylus knew that, of course, so he was up beside you. Lamp still on, book in hand, wire rim glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Is the sky blue, sweetie?” He didn’t bother looking away from his page, but the question certainly earned a quirk of his too pretty lips. 

“No, I mean like… do you remember all the details?” You roll onto your side, dropping your phone and propping yourself on your closed fist. You weren’t even sure why your first time with Sylus had entered your mind, but now you simply couldn’t rest if you didn’t know the answer. This time, he dropped the book to his lap, head turning to peer down at you with one brow perfectly raised. “I mean, of course?” 

“Like?” You blink at him, waiting for some sort of example and Sylus can’t stop the bewildered laugh that rattled his chest. “Like? You want me to describe our first time from memory?” His book is completely forgotten now, you have his full undivided attention. “Yeah, I wanna compare notes, see if we remember it the same way.” 

Your grin is wicked despite your eyes shining with innocence, he can’t help but feel as if he’s fallen into your trap… oh well. Too late now, right?

“You came on to me first, after I carried you up to the bedroom. You pushed me down onto the couch and then straddled my lap. You initiated our first kiss.” You felt heat sink low, a vivid memory of Sylus’ flushed cheeks and surprised expression when his back had hit the couch flashing in your mind. 

“I remember you waiting so patiently for me to initiate that kiss, even struggling to keep your hands from moving up to grab my ass.” You tease fondly, smiling a little wider when Sylus snickers at the thought. “You know your comfort is always my priority, I wasn’t going to push my luck before I knew it was what you truly wanted.”

“But you could see my desires, couldn't you?” A beat of silence as he observes you, smiling softly before speaking. “Seeing them isn’t the same as hearing them. I needed you to act upon them at the very least before I could allow myself to move.” 

“What a gentleman.” And you meant it, truly. Even as he laughed, you could tell he knew you were being genuinely honest with him at that moment. “I remember kissing you and never wanting to stop.” He carries on, arms folding over his broad expanse of chest as he watches you inhale. “I remember your tongue trying to jump down my throat.” 

“You loved it.” You had… you even moaned. “That’s when you grabbed my ass, pulled me closer, but you wouldn’t let me grind on you…” You pout at him, as if still upset. Like he hadn’t fucked you stupid in front of that god damn fireplace that night. “I would have cum in my pants then and there had I let you touch me.” Oh. That was news to you. 

You pushed up on your hands and knees. “What?!” A genuine whispered shriek of shock, eyes wide and mouth agape as you blink at your lover of two years. The event you’re both recalling having happened a year and a half ago. “It’s the truth, kitten. I was excited.” 

also a little bonus sketch bcs i truly couldnt separate them LMAO

The man who loves us unconditionally and would happily give his life for us. The man whose soul carries the scent of flowers and whose traces are etched deep into ours. The man who was once a mighty dragon who wanted someone to watch and appreciate the moon with him. The dragon who loves music and would bring a cat so we wouldn't feel bored and lonely in his home. The dragon who was condemned, feared and rejected by both his kin and humans and blamed for faults that were not his own.

The man who would rather risk having his weaknesses exposed than seeing us injured. The man whose voice sounds like an exquisite old instrument when he speaks and reads poetry. The man who loves to sing and collect shiny trinkets and gems. The man whose hands are cold and unyielding when gripping a gun but warm and tender when they touch us. The man whose love language is biting. The man whose lips are soft and inviting. The man whose kisses scorch the skin with passionate flames. The man whose shameless smirk gets us everytime, be it while sneaking into his room, trying to steal a brooch... or trying to help him clean the remaining soap on his body in a steamy shower in the middle of the desert that doesn't have great soundproofing. (Laughs)

The man who braided our hair in the grasslands and kept the pouch we made like a precious treasure.

The man who didn't want us to see him lose and won the boxing match.

The man we got stuck in a closet with.

The man who never celebrated his birthday before, until this year.

The man who searched the vast Cosmos in search for his beloved.

The man whose soul waits for the other 10.5 grams to complete it.

The man who misses us every hour of the day, who enjoys the banter between him and his beloved and indulges our arguments with a certain mechanical crow.

The man that everyone bows to... who only kneels before us.

Grassland Romance

Character design of Jonathan Harker

Lan Hua, I know you’re still mad at me. You can beat me, scold me. You can stab me even. If one stab won’t work, you can stab me twice. If two stabs won’t work, you can stab me ten times. As long as you can relieve your anger. But don’t ignore me like this.

Sylus who comes home late to see you already curled up in his bed.

Sylus who watches you for a moment because his only true sense of peace is when you are at peace or by his side.

Sylus who slips off his clothes, throws some sleep pants on and gets into bed with you.

Sylus who is careful not to wake you as he gets into bed and wraps his arms around you.

Sylus who smiles into your neck as you subconsciously scoot closer to him.

a/n. not in a forcing way btw

Riding Sylus for the first time was a disaster.

Though it wasn’t like he shamed you for it, or told you to stop for that matter—it still felt like a tragedy trying to feel good under his touch.

There was just something so… hard about it.

Not only were your hips giving up on you the moment you’re on top; you couldn’t even bear to have a good orgasm because of your inability to ride him.

Therefore, when you decided to try for a second (or third) time, you didn’t ask him for anything, and rather did it your own way again.

He of course let you do what you wanted (before he could snap) because he knew you were going to give up eventually. Which was why, for some reason, you felt like there was something a little different compared to the first time—a rather shift in the air.

Your hands slapped on his shoulders, the tip of your fingertips dug into his skin as you desperately moved against him. Warm skin collides with one another, making Sylus chuckle as he continues observing your every tiny move.

When he notices you staggering more than before, his hands—that were initially ghosting over your hips—carefully grab onto your skin and gently revert you back into a comfortable rhythm.

“Don’t focus on bouncing too much if you're getting tired, sweetie.” His voice was soft. Way too sweet, it only made you grit your teeth and shake your head.

“I don’t need your h-help.”

“Really now?”