Where even the Darkest Disarms its Weapons: Sylus x Reader
warnings: tickling, sweet fluff, affection, cute stuff
Summary: Work at the Hunter's Association was absolutely exhausting today. Upon your return to the N109 residence, a twist of events ends with you stuck in an oversized shirt of your beloved. Sylus won't mind, right? Right?
A/N: Hii guys, sorry I haven't written in a very long time. How are you all doing? I've been so busy with life and other things that I couldn't even finish this by Sylus' birthday. I've also had some requests in the inbox for quite some time. If you are one of them, I'm so sorry, I'm trying my best to stay strong and get to you. But in the meantime, I hope you guys enjoy this late present for our beloved!
You walk in nervously, fiddling with the soft fabric in your hands.
You've just gotten back from an absolutely exhausting mission. Just hours ago, stuck in the pouring rain and a difficult situation, you and Tara had to take off your uniforms in order to cross a river knee deep in nothing but the t-shirts you wore underneath.
Even on the walk back into the N109 zone, your uniform has still been wet, the black and red leather soaking your shirt as you've been holding it against your chest. Upon the return to Sylus' residence, you discover the laundry has "just started a side hustle as a slow-cooker, actually. It'll be ready in a few hours," according to Luke and Kieran. Just your luck! So with no other choice, you run to Sylus' room after your shower, finding a clearly oversized (but not for him, you can tell) shirt and draping it over your shivering body. Just the mere sight of yourself in the tote bag of a shirt brings a slight giddy smile to your lips. How silly, yet... it's different. It feels different. It smells like Sylus, the husky yet warm fragrance of his cologne enveloping you like a blanket on a winter day. Well, at least now you can cross "Share a hoodie or shirt with your beloved like in the books and movies" off your bucket list.
After hanging up your dripping work attire in the buzzing laundry room, you head down the hall, towards Sylus' office. Although you know he's probably busy and you don't want to disturb him, a little greeting can't hurt. You'll just let him know you're back. Although, it's not like he doesn't know where you are at all times anyway, thanks to Mephisto's eyes. Reaching the tall black entrance, you grab the handle and turn it, pushing the door open.
Not much to your surprise, Sylus is on the phone, his back turned towards you as he swirls a glass of ruby wine in his free hand, his gaze overlooking Onychinus in all its nightlife glory. You stand there, waiting, listening to his talks about the upcoming auction, unsure of whether you should make a noise to announce your presence or not. But a few moments later, the wheels holding up Sylus' chair make a soft squeaking noise as he turns around and his eyes fall on you, setting his phone down.
A light pink tints your face, and you look down at your petite figure in his oversized shirt, fiddling with the soft fabric in your hands. When your gaze lifts again, you meet his ruby eyes.
The change in them is visible, one that not even the blind could miss. The way they soften at your arrival. The way the ends crinkle, lifting into delicate fan-like shapes. It's as if something inside him softens, something akin to ice, something only you have the warmth to melt. Sylus' affectionate gaze brings a warm smile to your own lips.
For a moment, he observes you silently. He can still smell the rain on you, mingling with your natural scentâa mix of something faint and floral that he can't quite place. A fragrance he hasn't been able to live without since the day he discovered it. Your blush deepens by a shade, and you open your mouth to speak. But he beats you to this silent game of tenderness. He always does.
Two strong arms gently wrap around you. Your feet leave the ground. His body is warm and solid against yours.
Sylus leans his head down, his breath ghosting over your ear. âI didn't know we had a fashion show scheduled for today at my place,â he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. âWhy the delayed invite?â
Your eyes wander, eventually landing and focusing on a distant vintage record player. You feel his lips curl into a smile against your ear as his hands go to brush through your hair in the most gentle manner, the way he only does to you.
âYouâre going to catch a cold,â he speaks again, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. "Should have done a weather check before hitting the runway, hmm?" Both his voice and touch are soft and tender. "But I guess I can't blame the kitten for wanting to crash the catwalk as soon as possible, can I?"
You giggle as his hand descends to your stomach, gently poking and prodding to elicit soft childlike laughter from you, batting at his slender fingers. You lean into his touch, finally speaking up. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything about the fit? Or lecture me on how I'm disturbing your work hours?"
Sylus chuckles slightly, the sound deep and warm. "Work is never-ending, sweetheart," he replies, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern on the bare skin of your arm. "But with your presence, it can wait."
His gaze lingers on your face, his eyes roaming over your features as if committing every detail of you to memory, as he's done countless times before. Your breaths mingle as his face comes down to hover just inches from yours. The contact of his lips to your forehead is the most tender, barely even there. When Sylus speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper.
âYou look adorable,â he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he bends down to wrap one arm supporting the small of your back, the other under your bent knees in bridal position. "Absolutely charming. I'll have to have myself at least a few dozen photos of you and I still won't be satisfied with this surprising yet precious twist of fates."
You smile as he starts walking out of his office with you in his arms, stepping out the door and turning down the large marble hallway.
"Let me guess. You haven't eaten a thing yet, have you? Let me make you someth-" You trail off when Sylus strides past the kitchen, turning to look up at him.
"A-Aren't you hungry? I'm sure you've skipped all three meals today!"
Sylus shakes his head. When you look up do you realize that he is heading straight towards the bedroom.
"No need," he says firmly, his arms tightening slightly around you. "You're not cooking tonight."
Despite your protests, he carries you inside, his steps soft but deliberate as he gently kicks the door shut behind him. Your shared bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small table lamp in the corner.
With you still cradled against his chest, Sylus walks over to the bed and places you down gently on the soft mattress. He looms over you, his eyes never once leaving yours. His weight is pressing you down against the sheets, his large frame hovering over yours.
You meet his gaze with a flustered and confused expression. But it seems like Sylus doesn't have the same thought as you in mind, as your beating heart is suddenly stilled when he shifts his weight to push himself off you, turning over to lie down next to you instead. One of his hands finds the subtle curve of your waist, gently pulling you into his chest, the other going to your hair. You let out a sigh of relief and content at the feeling of his slender fingers scratching delicately at your scalp.
Your lips curve into a mischievous smile as an idea forms in your head. Turning over to look up at him, you look into his eyes with mock seriousness.
"Sylus, can you tell me something?"
Sylus nods. "What's got the kitten so curious, hmm?"
"Did you have a leftover bedsheet to have made into a shirt this big or something?"
A shriek leaves you as Sylus pounces on you, taking you down on the bed. You let out a squeal as your back softly hits the sheet, his body playfully caging in your own as his hands instantly find your waist, tickling you. Bubbly laughter erupts from your lips as you try your best but evidently fail at getting back up, your hands immediately coming up to try and bat and grab at Sylusâ larger ones dancing across your sensitive areas. Sylus chuckles down at you, a playful gleam of annoyance and challenge in his eyes and voice as he leans down just inches from your face.Â
âYou little tease,â He says amidst your sweet sounds of rebellion. âHow dare you insult my taste in clothing. Iâll let you know that Iâm no less a fashionista than you! Youâll pay for this, cheeky little kitten!âÂ
You suddenly feel an intangible presence as Sylusâ Evol appears. Your eyes widen amidst your fits of laughter as you watch the fiery red light slowly materialize, shrieking. No, no, no! You squeal, shaking your head from side to side.Â
âN-noahahaha! N-NOAhAHhe Pl-pALHAHahaehse! D-doananât! Hhahaha-I-im SOShrhroorryyyhHAhahaâŚâÂ
But itâs too late. Sylus laughs at your panicked expression as the tendrils of red light hover towards you, and whatever two somewhat useless weapons you possessed against Sylus in this playful battle are lifted away from your body as his Evol gently encircles around both your wrists, pulling them upwards to be pinned on either side of your head. As more fibres of the energy slowly graze the exposed skin under your arms, your body squirms, your laughter going up an octave but never too high under Sylusâ gentle yet affectionate touch as it covers all the sensitive spots on your body that his Evol doesnât.Â
Sylus laughs, the deep sound filling your ears as he smiles down at your struggling form. âNow, now, I donât think that apology counts as sincere if itâs spoken out of mere helplessness, does it now?â he teases, his fingers gently grazing the soft skin of your stomach under your shirt.Â
Tittered pleas leave your mouth as he gently but surely tickles you to pieces, his touch a little too decisive for its own good, your wrists helplessly pulling and tugging with all their might against their supernatural restraints as they can in this weakened state.Â
When youâve been reduced to a puddle of half-broken giggles and squeals, Sylusâ hands finally let up their wreaking of chaos. The fiery red energy slowly retreats from your wrists, gently letting your hands down to rest on the bed. You immediately wrap your arms around your body upon their freedom, giggling breathlessly as you watch his Evol dissipate into his body through half-closed eyes.Â
âI-ih-hahahte y-YoUahAhhaâŚâ
Sylus laughs. That deep, husky laugh that fills your heart with warmth the moment it resounds in your ears. The sound produced, ironically, by the most feared man in the N109 Zone and all of Linkon City. The sound only you get to hear. The sound reserved for you and only you alone.Â
The moment you hear it, you smile. Sylus watches, face etched with affection, as you calm down, your breathless giggles slowly fading into the silence.
And then the only sounds resonating within the bedroom are the occasional whirs of the air purifier that sits on the distant nightstand.Â
When your eyes open again, youâre met with Sylusâ soft eyes and tender smile just a few inches above you. You feel your heart catch in your chest, staring into the pools of red. Those pools that at times hold ice cold enough to freeze blood, so much contempt, so much wrath. But also capable of holding fear, vulnerability, and the emotion that ripples in them now.Â
You feel the contact before it happens. Through slowly closing eyelids, you see Sylusâ face lowering closer and closer down towards yours, followed by the tender connection of your lips. The scent of his cologne fills the air around you, wrapping the two of you in a soothing embrace. Sylusâ hand travels to the back of your head, the reassuring touch sending gentle shivers down the nape of your neck.   Â
It's at this moment that the thought hits you hard. Sylus' Evol is an extremely powerful, feared energy. There is no blade sharper, no wind that can deliver the force it delivers. You've seen it in action countless times, the air filled with the merciless sound of bones cracking and cries of the enemy's pain as it rips, twists, tears them apart. Yet, when it's in your presence, it becomes so... soft. So gentle. Communicating through such desperation, always reaching out oh so slowly when it approaches you, enwrapping you in it's comfort. Before you met Sylus, you never would imagined a weapon could turn into but a toy in the presence of its beloved. Never could have believed the sight as you watched the murderous blood-red energy shrink, dissipate into a soft breeze, a subtle breath, almost faint enough to not even be there, when faced with the one it feels most vulnerable with. Yet the sight is indeed true, as the glowing mist has proved countless times capable of dimming its glow, retracting its claws, hesitantly touching and prodding in just the right ways to elicit soft childlike laughter from you when another in your place would have been ruthlessly teared to pieces.
Your lips finally disconnect. The breath you were unaware of holding comes out as a giggle, shattering the moment.Â
âOkay, but honestly, just tell me I look like a sack of potatoes in this thing already. See, the sleeves are practically falling off!âÂ
You hold your arms up to his face. A deep, rich chuckle leaves Sylusâ throat.Â
âWhatever you say, sweetie. To me, itâs all the same.â
Yet as he speaks, you both know that these words are untrue. In his eyes, no wine red dress or fine lace will ever be able to adorn you the way Sylusâ clothes do. What he sees is his precious kitten. And if by chance, if only by chance, she may have forgotten the feeling of being the most admired treasure of the dragonâs hoard, his beloved, to rule as queen and princess of his stash, the touch of gentle claws that withdrew upon contact with her smaller hands, her dragon will do whatever it takes to make sure her memories return.
One by one. Without pause to catch even a single breath. Not even if it takes decades, not even until fate has cruelly snatched the bright years of his youth. For if it means his most precious treasure can return, then for centuries, for decades, he will slit his own throat with the knife of his desperation with no hesitation, let the blood seep down trembling hands, let shaking red eyes waver in pain bereft of any regret until the day she does.    Â
And now, those same ruby sharp eyes take the shapes of moons as they look down upon their ownerâs moon, who seems to fit so perfectly into his arms, as she sits up and rests her head upon her palms.Â
You smile mischievously. Your tongue slips out for a miniscule second before it swiftly retracts, but the swift yet dilated pupils of the keen onlooker catch it.Â
âCatch me if you can, Syl-â your giggly taunt is cut off midway as the large hands wrapped around your waist instantly tighten, pulling you into their trap as your words trail off into laughter. Â
You really donât know how much time passes. The two of you stay like this, him gently yet playfully tickling your sensitive spots as he chuckles down at your reactions, you, giggling away helplessly underneath him. Wrapped up in this little bubble of laughter, only the two of you. But one thing is clear: Both of you are happy. Maybe not invincible together against this cruel world, but still happy. And maybe, just maybe, thatâs enough for now. Just for now.
You steal another peak through half-closed eyes up at Sylusâ joyful expression, his cheeks tinted a light pink and lips curved into a wobbly smile.Â
Yes, happy. Thatâs for sure.Â
