#excusemyobsessions

The closer you got, the bolder his bites became.You could be doing absolutely nothing and you'd feel his teeth latch onto your cheek out of nowhere.

He'd bite you everywhere now. Arms, hands, legs. His favorite place to bite down were your thighs. He couldn't get enough of their supple flesh between his teeth.

Most of the time, he'd bite down gently. Affectionately.

Sometimes, he'd latch onto your skin, suckle down to taste it, leave actual marks of his endless, fervent love.

The first few times, it startled you. To feel his teeth sinking down on your skin. And then you got used to it.

He'd steal giggles out of you, little grumbles and little groans. It delighted him.

Eventually, you found yourself acquiring that same habit of his and becoming quite addicted to it.

You'd bite his fingers, his hands, up his arms. His neck, his jaw. You'd climb onto his lap, kiss his whole face and then bite down on his cheek when his smile was so big it wrinkled his eyes.

“You know, sharks latch onto their mates much like you are latching onto me right now,” he mused, deep voice laced with amusement.

You paused your chewing just enough to lean back and look him in the eyes.

“I am a shark, didn't you know?” you responded.

And soon you were latched onto his other cheek, stealing a chuckle from the big man.

“I do agree you are in fact a shark. A zebra one, most likely,” he told you, those big arms of his circling your waist.

“Why a zebra shark?” you questioned, bemused.

Both his cheeks were red from being chewed on and you couldn’t help cupping his face and running your thumbs over the bite marks. He leaned into your touch, eyelids fluttering much like a big, spoiled, lazy cat.

“Because you're cuddly and lazy and clingy,” he answered, without missing a beat.

You scoffed and bit his nose. He chuckled once again, openly, relaxed.

“You don't seem to mind,” you noted, one eyebrow lifted.

They sound like you, or like he imagines you to sound. They never show their face but in his head, that body belongs to you.

Ass up, they fuck themselves with a pretty blue dildo, moan like the prettiest little thing that they are and he's enthralled.

He grips his cock in his hand and strokes it at the same pace as the person in the video.

And he moans with them, with you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

He cums all over his chest just as you cum in the video and he pants with you, coming down from your heights.

Yes, because he wouldn't know but that's actually you in the video, you you.

Being pretty and fucking yourself with a dildo imagining it's him fucking you. You're the one biting your lip, preventing the camera from catching you moaning his name out loud. You're the one imagining sending that to him and just him instead… or him finding it on his own.

The praises and horny comments fuel your horny brain but they're nothing compared to the words it conjures said in his voice as you fuck yourself silly.

And in the end, it's both of you, you and Zayne, blushing and squirming when you both come down from your height, realizing what you were doing.

None of you brave enough to be outspoken about your feelings, about your needs.

(Here's more to this)

Your dragon wheezed, choked, gurgling sounds echoing from his throat. There was a large sword sticking out of his ribcage. It was impaled all the way through.

It was you who had forced it through.

“No, no, no, no, Sylus,” you sobbed.

Trembling hands captured his cheeks, cradling his face with so much care. Blood smeared on his skin and you frantically tried to wipe it off, only making it worse.

Long claws circled your wrist.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” he whispered weakly.

Tears fell heavily down your cheeks, streaming down like a river, dripping onto his peaceful features.

“Please, please don’t leave me,” you begged of him.

“I will always be here,” he told you. “Always.”

The bright crimson in his eyes faded to a soulless maroon.

You screamed.

You were awakened by gentle but firm fingers, shaking your shoulders.

“Honey, hey.”

Sylus leaned over you, ruby eyes startled, widened with concern, little droplets of water dripping from his wet snowy hair. He'd turned on the lamp on the bedside table and its soft, yellow light outlined his sharp features. Images of your dream, of your shared past life, overlapped with the present, man and dragon flashing before your eyes before finally settling on the man inches away from you.

“Shhh, I'm right here,” he told you steadily.

Mind hazy with sleep, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you.

Sylus let out a little surprised groan. He caught himself just in time not to crush you under his weight, forearms coming to rest next to your head, on each side of the pillow. You buried your face in the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent, nuzzling your nose against the exposed skin. The scent of his expensive body wash contrasted with the smoke that still burned your throat.

“I came out of the shower and you were crying,” he explained. “It was just a nightmare, it’s okay.”

You gripped onto him so tight you were scared you’d choke him but you were shaking. Desperate to hold him now, like you couldn't do in your dream.

“There was so much smoke, my hands were covered in blood… It was your blood,” you began to tell him, tears welling up in your bleary eyes.

You felt your vocal chords tie themselves into a knot, the salt of your tears going down your throat.

“I pushed a sword into your chest,” you whimpered.

You heard him inhale sharply against your hair.

“I didn't-... I don't-... Sy…” you hiccuped into his neck.

His arms circled your frame and he rolled the two of you over onto your sides. His motion shifted you a bit lower, low enough to bury your face in his chest.

“I know, honey, I know,” he whispered against the top of your head.

Your hands came down to sprawl themselves over his chest, feeling the unscathed skin, the muscles, the tendons. He was warm under your fingers, soft, whole. There was no sword, no blood. You sobbed against his heart.

“Sy, it was awful,” you told him.

You felt the rumbling of a hum within his chest when that was all he could offer you in response.

Your arms circled his waist and you laid your head against his chest, ear pressed to his heart, to listen to its steady beat. And you wept, for him, for you, for a past long gone which you felt so deeply engraved in your chest.

Sylus held you close, long fingers cradling your head against his chest, his other hand on the small of your back.

“It's over now,” he told you, “We're safe and sound.”

Your grip tightened around him and so did his around you.

His hand traced over your shaking shoulders, massaging the tensed muscles, slid down your back soothingly. You held onto him like your life depended on it.

Encased within his embrace was where you wanted, no, needed to be.

He moved his hand away and shifted a little, and you held on to him tighter, afraid he'd slip between your fingers. Another sob ripped through your chest.

“Shh, I'm not going anywhere,” he told you reassuringly.

You realized then he was just tucking the covers over the both of you, cocooning you in warm silk sheets and his arms. When he dragged you even closer, you were able to slip your legs in between his. The sigh that escaped your lips was interrupted by little sobs but it was one of relief.

Sylus seemed to relax in your embrace. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and began to run his long fingers through your hair carefully. Occasionally, they would get caught up in a knot but he gently detangled it.

Slowly but surely, your sobs began to quiet down.

“You know, I'm glad you're no longer a sorceress,” he told you quietly, fingers slipping into your hair to massage your scalp.

Your head slowly leaned back into his hand and he supported the weight, shifting his position so he could look down at you now that your face was finally away from his chest.

“In this life, I can keep you here, just like this, safe and sound. And I’m no longer afraid you'll be taken away.”

His deep voice was mellow but serious, it resonated with your heart as if the sole sound of it could wrap it up in a tender hold.

The tears hadn't stopped yet. They blurred your vision but you could see his eyes gaze back at you steadily, so attentive.

“What if you're the one who's taken away from me?” you whispered up at him.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

His other hand lifted to catch the tears falling endlessly from your eyes with the knots of his fingers.

“Who would even dare?” he responded, confidence so palpable you found yourself agreeing with him.

You kissed the palm of his hand.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against your forehead, resting his lips there for a long while. You let your eyes close, sinking into him.

So utterly tangled with him, you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, the rise and fall of his chest when he breathed, his warm breath against your skin.

Slowly but surely, the tears dried. He cleaned any remains with tender fingers, kissed each one of your swollen eyelids.

“You're safe,” he promised and you believed him.

“I'm tired,” you told him, snuggling further into him.

He wrapped his long arms around you again.

“You can sleep. I'm not going anywhere.”

You only noticed your partner when he was already wrapping himself around you, arms around your waist, knees bent at each side of you, tucking you back, flush against his large chest. His head fell on your shoulder and you could hear him sigh heavily, as if letting out all the tension of a whole day.

“Hello, dear,” he said, in a silly, muffled way from the way his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Hello, handsome,” you responded quickly.

Mephisto pecked at another one of the bells which made a different sound. The way he hopped and let out a little excited caw had you giggling again. And then he pecked at the third bell which made yet another different sound and he looked so endearingly excited that you were fully engulfed in your playtime.

You barely missed the little huff Sylus let out against your shoulder.

“What does one have to do to have their kitten stop playing with the little bird and shift her attention elsewhere?” Sylus mused, with a little touch of gruffiness in his deep voice.

He lifted a hand and flicked his fingers. Mephisto tilted his head and cawed, spreading his wings and taking off to his perch at the corner of the room. While the bird got distracted with one of his shiny toys you’d hung up near his perch, you felt Sylus’ arms tighten around you.

At first, you were confused. Sylus had never minded you spending time with Mephisto. But then it hit you.

“Sy, are you jealous of your own bird?” you asked, quite baffled yet highly amused.

Sylus scoffed next to your ear as if you’d just said the strangest thing but he did not deny it.

You lifted your hand to your lips, to suppress a laugh and yet your frame shook within his arms. Your partner buried his face in your shoulder with a little groan, nuzzling his nose right on the curve of your neck.

“Sylus,” you called, voice laced with tenderness and amusement.

When you made motion to move, he let you, leaning back against the armrest while you turned around in his arms. He pulled you closer and you found yourself in between his legs, laying on your belly over him. Your hands moved up to thread through his hair and his ruby eyes fluttered close.

“Darling, there’s enough space for the two of you in my heart,” you told him.

His eyes flickered open, mischief sparkling in those crimson hues and you traced one of his dark eyebrows with your fingertips.

“Which one takes up more space though?” he questioned, low and mellow.

He turned his head to press his lips to your wrist as his hands sprawled out over your back, gently, slowly, massaging your shoulder blades. You had been hunched over while playing with Mephisto so the ministrations of Sylus’ fingers were very much welcomed.

“Hmm, are you really trying to get me to choose between you and your watch bird?” 

Mephisto cawed at the corner of the room. 

“Your crow,” you corrected.

“Well, you have, in fact, been devoting more attention to my crow than me,” Sylus accused, clearly only half-joking.

This side to him was just so endearing and amusing that you couldn’t help the little laugh that freely slipped through your lips. You saw his eyes soften with what you recognized to be immense fondness.

You shifted further up, to cup his cheeks between your fingers, tracing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“You silly,” you cooed.

Sylus’ hands halted and his arms circled your frame once again while you laid kisses all over his face. One cheek, then the other, the tip of his nose, the bridge, each eyelid. One extra kiss for the right eyelid. And then one final kiss to his forehead before you pulled back just a little. His eyelids were heavy on his ruby eyes, the bliss of tenderness making him soft and pliable in your hands.

“If the world was ending, I’d want to be next to you,” you told him.

The soft chuckle which rumbled from his chest was one of tenderness, a smile spread over his lips.

He suddenly rolled the two of you onto your sides, one of his big hands cradling your head to make sure you didn’t hit it uncomfortably. And soon he was buried in your neck, peppering tiny kisses all over, shoulder, neck and chin, stealing sweet little giggles from you.

His hair was disheveled when he pulled back but he didn’t seem to care.

“Does that mean you love me?” he asked, with a little grin.

You cupped his face between your fingers, smiling into those soft crimson eyes.

“What do you think?” you answered

“I think you do,” he concluded.

You hummed with a little nod and leaned forward, to press a kiss to his lips.

You were pouting by then, emotions heightened by exhaustion. Plopping down on the couch, you didn't even turn on the TV, just sitting there, arms crossed under your chest, sulking away the time.

You missed Sylus; you missed that confident smirk of his and his sharp eyes. You missed his deep voice and the bite of his words.

You felt like a child, throwing a tantrum, just sitting there, staring off into nothing. But there was no one there to see.

“He's not even here,” you grumbled to yourself.

Finally, you grabbed the remote and then the blanket draped over the back of the couch, tossing it over your legs.

The plan was simple; sulk away the night while watching one of your comfort movies. Hopefully you’d fall asleep soon so you wouldn’t have to miss him like you did.

You’d barely chosen the movie when you heard someone knock on your door. One of your eyebrows lifted, half annoyed, half intrigued, and you stood up to open the door.

Sylus stood there in the hallway, a black wool coat draped over his shoulders, the first few buttons of his also black sateen shirt undone, revealing his sharp collarbone. Rich crimson gaze lifted up to meet yours when you opened the door and he smirked. One of his hands rested on the door frame and slightly leaned over as he was, his tall frame loomed over you. His white hair was messy, windswept.

“Sylus?” you yipped, surprised.

“Hmm, hello, sweetie,” he purred.

He lunged forward, making you walk backwards a few steps as he stepped into your apartment, shutting the door behind him. Long arms engulfed your frame instantly, even before it clicked shut. You were wrapped up in his warmth and the scent of his expensive perfume.

Craving his presence as you had been, you buried your nose against his collarbone and nuzzled into him. Your hands coiled into the fabric of his shirt.

“You never answered my text,” you mumbled against his skin.

Your tone was accusatory as he had indeed left you sulking by yourself. However, you made no motion to pull away.

“I did answer it. I told you I was on my way,” he answered.

His hand found its way into your hair, fingers sprawled out against your scalp, holding you against him.

Did he?

Now you were embarrassed.

“I never saw it,” you admitted, hiding your face in his neck.

Slowly, gently, he guided the two of you to the couch.

In one quick motion, he leaned down, hooked one arm behind your knees and scooped you up. Soon enough you were placed on his lap after he sat down on the couch. He spread his legs a little and you fell in the space in between them. 

You saw his scrutinizing gaze sweep across the TV and the bunched up blanket before it landed on you.

There was mirth in his eyes.

“Were you sulking here all by yourself?”

Sometimes, you hated how he could read you just like an open book all the damn time.

“No…” you lied, averting your gaze.

He chuckled, low and mellow.

“Come here, kitten, there’s no need for sulking anymore.”

He draped the blanket over the both of you and wrapped you up in his arms, caged against his large chest. He hadn't even removed his coat, it was still barely hanging off his shoulders.

You dipped your head down and nuzzled his neck, feeling his chest rise and fall with a long sigh. When you slipped one hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder, you felt the tension in his muscles fade, his long legs stretching out. It was as if he'd been coiled up the whole time he was without you and he was finally, finally relaxing.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your lips. His grip around you tightened comfortably and he responded by planting a kiss on your hairline.

Slowly, you peeled yourself away from his neck and sat up straight so you could see his face. His features were calm, his gaze tender, and he watched you with a small smile.

You lifted your hands to cradle his jaw between them, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. Sylus leaned into your touch and let his face rest on the palms of your hands, turning just a little to plant a kiss over your love line.

Still holding his face with one hand, you allowed the other to move further up, gently pushing a few strands of white hair away from his eye. His eyelids fluttered shut.

You couldn't help but smile.

“You're really cuddly today,” you noted, running your fingers through his hair. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Even if you were, I wouldn't let you go,” he answered instantly, giving your waist a little demonstrative squeeze.

You giggled and leaned closer to press a kiss to his forehead. He hummed his appreciation.

As you continued running your fingers through his hair, you felt his long fingers slip into the hem of your shirt and sprawl themselves out against your back. His skin was warm and his digits calloused. His gentle touch was tender, full of love which was spread over the extent of your whole back as he explored your skin further.

You kissed the tip of his nose and then the bridge.

“It's been far too long, kitten. I missed you,” he told you in hushed tones.

He opened his eyes then, to gaze into yours and there was no place you'd rather be than right there, lost in that ruby ocean.

You cupped his face between your hands and rested your forehead against his.

“I missed you too,” you confessed in a whisper. 

You could see how his eyes shone with a smile. Your own lips curved in a reflective smile.

His eyelids fell over his eyes and his mouth found yours. The kiss was slow, gentle, dragged out as if you were reminding each other of what you tasted like, what you felt like. As if you could ever forget.

Your heart beat steadily in your chest, beaming in comfort, wrapped up in the security his hold offered. 

“Will you stay tonight?” you asked against his lips.

“Unless you throw me out the door, I don't plan on leaving your side for the next two days,” he responded, stealing another kiss from your mouth.

You were shaking heavily as your legs carried you towards his office where you found the door slightly open, the gentle melody of a vinyl record drifting out of the room.

Usually, you'd rap your knuckles against the door before you entered but there was just this tightness in your chest, an inexplicable urgency.

When you burst into the room, Sylus' eyes lifted from the stack of documents he was holding to meet yours.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he questioned, instantly standing up.

The stack of documents he was analysing was instantly discarded onto his desk and in a few quick strides he was standing right in front of you, catching your hand which reached out for him within his gentle fingers.

As you told him what had triggered you to the best of your abilities, tears started flowing down your cheeks heavily, blurring your vision and making it hard for you to focus on the crimson eyes which gazed back at you attentively.

He listened to you closely, low encouraging hums rumbling from his chest, a big hand cradling your chin, the pad of his thumb wiping away the heavy tears as they kept falling from your eye.

"Oh, kitten," he cooed and even through the tears you could see his eyes soften.

Their usual cold crimson was warm, a vermillion ocean, so deep and tender.

You squeezed his hand and he let you, without a flinch, his thumb tracing over your knuckles back and forth at a slow, mindful pace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he reassured you in a low tone.

You sobbed and choked all at the same time, the emotions flooding you far too great.

"I c-can't breathe," you told him miserably, gripping onto him like a lifeline.

"Yes, you can. Come on, kitten, breathe with me."

The steadiness in his deep voice was soothing and you felt it in your racing heart.

"Come on, breathe in," and he did it with you, taking in a deep breath at the same time you attempted to.

When you shook your head, assaulted by another wave of sobs, he kept catching your tears, squeezing your hand in his.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he told you, gentle and firm. "There's no rush, take your time."

You wanted to close your eyes and focus on the slow stroking of his thumb over your knuckles but you were terrified he'd slip through your fingers if you did.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Sometimes you were thankful for his ability to predict just what was going through your head, through your heart.

"Come on, breathe with me."

Sylus wasn't demanding but his tone was firm, always steady, like an anchor.

"Deep breath in, can you do that with me?"

And you did, shakily so, along with him.

"That’s it, good. Now out, slowly."

And you let out the air trapped inside your lungs, feeling his warm breath against your wet cheeks as he breathed out along with you.

"Come on, you can do it again. Deep breath in."

And he kept coaxing mindful breaths out of you, his hands never leaving you, eyes locked onto yours the whole time.

When you were finally able to breathe on your own, he reached back for the box tissues on his desk, plucking a few out. Always keeping a point of contact, with his hand still within yours.

"My sweet little kitten," he cooed, turning towards you again.

With a gentle touch, he helped you clean the remains of tears and snot off your face.

"How about we go get you some snacks and huddle up on the couch? We can watch that movie you mentioned?" he offered, thin lips curved by a small, gentle smile.

"What about your work?" you questioned, already being led out of his office.