Chapter Text
You were no stranger to late nights. Not as a hunter on UNICORN’s Alpha team.
More often than not, you found yourself stuck in a cycle of working until the next mission was called. Before you realized it, your hunter’s standard pistol would sputter, and you’d somehow clocked in over 24 hours of overtime.
Only to do it all over again with as much as maybe an hour or two’s worth of rest.
It’s not that you didn’t like your job - you loved your job - but you had to admit there were things you loved more; like Captain Jenna announcing a week’s worth of leave to the entire team after an endless string of missions. Team Alpha was ecstatic. Nothing could dampen the excitement. Not even the condition of having to have all reports in by the following business day. No sir! Yes ma’am!
It had been a long couple of weeks. Seemingly endless wanderer sightings, metaflux fields, and protocore smuggling. The team was more than happy to hand over the leftovers for the much needed break. So when the team called for it, of course you’d gone out to celebrate.
And what better way to celebrate than to go out for a couple of beers at the local karaoke bar. Even your somewhat recluse of a partner had decided to join. It was going to be a great time!
And that it was!
So great in fact that at some point during the party, a drunk call was made out of your own phone.
Not you! You still had to drive your motorcycle home and would much rather not be a hung over mess on the first day of your leave. If only you could’ve said the same thing about Tara. You had made the mistake of leaving your phone unattended. When she threatened to call your boyfriend, ‘Skye’ to come join in on the fun, there was only one thing you could do before she could inevitably - and all too loudly - ask who ‘Big Boss Daddy Sylus’ was in your contacts.
You had to call him yourself. She would not have it any other way.
He was all too happy to oblige, because of course he was. After you quickly and sloppily explained the situation, he claimed that he was ‘in the area’ and had finished his business early. You tried to reassure him - beg him even - that he did not have to indulge Tara, but to no surprise of your own, your plights fell on deaf ears.
Before the call was over, ‘Skye’ had walked through the doors of the karaoke bar, impeccably dressed and cool as ever. Immediately as he crosses the door frame he is inundated with greeting, fist bumps, and invitations for drinks. He declines, but offers to buy the team a round for a job well done. He’d barely been around but a handful of times, but was somehow always treated like a fellow UNICRON. After he had exchanged polite nods with everyone else, his eyes zeroed in on you. His expression softened unapologetically and he made his way to you like a book on a shelf. He reached out for you and kissed your hand, saying everything in the quiet of his stare.
Once the drinks continued flowing you pulled him to the quiet of your newly claimed corner and sternly laid out some ground rules: No funny business and under no circumstance, no singing.
He let out a chuckle, agreeing to your terms and you resumed your night with a newfound ease. You’d missed him. You’d missed him more than you’d realized. You knew he missed you too. Coming here on such late notice wasn’t just about the antics. He’d been waiting for you, wanting to see you over having to settle for missed calls and apologetic texts. Seeing you - you seeing him - in any way, shape, or form, always made you feel safe. Relaxed in a twisted sort of way.
So much, in fact, that you can’t remember the rest of the night.
At some point during the festivities, the lack of sleep had caught up with you. You remembered slumping against Sylus’ shoulder after a particularly lively number, and nothing more.
You woke up hours later, the following morning in your own bed, sunlight bleeding through the heavy curtains. The room was quiet. There’s nothing but the distant chirping of birds and soft drawn out breathing of the man next to you.
You’re still too groggy to be surprised, but made the effort to try to remember how you’d gotten back home. Slowly you pieced together that Sylus had brought you home soon after you’d passed out, leaving the team in the throes of their karaoke mayhem. You’d probably clung to him as he tried to leave and managed to shove him under your blankets with all the grace of a full blown sleepy toddler tantrum.
There were certainly more details you’d sacrificed in order to survive your sleep deprivation, but all the rest checked out. You’d been freed of most of your hunter’s uniform, save for your loose undershirt. Your socks and panties had been spared, but somehow your bra was nowhere to be felt; an impressive display of unmatched skill. Your hair also didn’t feel all that tangled beyond its usual slept-in state. You assumed someone must’ve taken great care to ensure it had been properly detangled before bringing you to bed. Your eyes roamed the folded lines of your linens, in search of said culprit. You found him not very far at all and you revel in the outline of his sleeping figure.
Sylus slept on his back. His arm furthest from you draped leisurely behind his head while the other was loosely wrapped around you. He slept the way he did everything; effortlessly elegant. It made the corners of your lips curl. It was in serene moments like these that you could appreciate the finesse of his features. From his broad chest, strong shoulders, and sharp jawline, to the subtle curve of his nose, you took it all in. In that trance, you found yourself absently reaching out to him.
You couldn’t help brush a stray hair away from his face, barely tracing the arch of his eyebrow enough to watch him stir. Just a little. A soft hum simmered from deep within his chest and your lips pursed with a slight reflex of guilt. How could you disturb such peace?
Remembering it was the first day of your extended vacation, you let yourself have this moment. You settled back into the crook of his arm, resting your head on his shoulder to enjoy your morning snuggles. You’re about to let yourself drift into the start of the world’s laziest day, eyes almost closed, when your phone blares with a much different agenda.
Through gritted teeth, you curse yourself for not shutting off all your alarms and make for the blasted device. You tried to move as quickly but carefully as you could to not wake your Adonis. Of course you’d find your phone on the complete opposite of you, right next to Sylus.
You managed to drape yourself over the boulder of a man, using the headboard as a prop to reach over to the bedside table. You didn't even bother to pick up the damned thing. You knew where the dismiss button was. It felt like disarming a bomb. You gave it a less than gentle swipe and watched the screen return to its familiar lock screen. When the screen dims to black, you allow yourself a premature breath of victory, however you were too late.
A low grumble reverberates underneath you, followed by the heat of a slow hand on the back of your knee.
‘Ah shoot,’ you thought, tipping your head back in defeat, ‘Woke him up anyway.’
“Hey,” the sound of your own voice startled you, clearly too hoarse from last night’s antics. Tucking your chin to your chest, you tried your best to look past your slept-in garment in search of your ‘model citizen’. Your carefully crafted greeting is dismissed with nothing but a grunt and wandering fingers. Not even the acknowledgement of waking eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you exhaled, “I should’ve silenced it.”
His eyes remained closed, and his thumb drew small circles on your calf, “Emergency?” he drawls in a thick velvety voice. It sent shivers to your toes.
“No,” you sighed in relief. His first-response concern was touching, “I forgot to turn off my alarm.” A groan echoes across the room and you couldn’t help but admire him underneath you. He always looked so good. But right then, he looked so relaxed, so at peace. You wanted to join him in his barely awakened state. And you were about to make good on that, beginning to make your way from your sleuthing position, when his grip tightened around the back of your leg.
At first, you thought he was helping you, steadying you so you wouldn’t tumble down onto him. Not that he’d mind. But when he growled in complaint of your movements, you stilled, and chanced another look at him.
Had you knelt on him or something? “Sylus?”
“Stay right there, sweetie.” Reluctantly, you indulge him. You felt the give of the mattress under his weight. Sylus props himself up a bit higher on his stacked pillows and draws his once craned arm to your side. Your skin puckered, feeling the cool air of the room, exposed by the shift and hike of your shirt. You watched as one hand kept a firm grip on your balancing leg. The other caressed your bare skin up the side of your thigh whilst holding your body above him. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of your stomach feeling his lips brush against your hip, pressing absent-minded kisses up your side.
The heat made you shudder, “Sy--”
He commands you like the sleeping dragon he was; shushing you not to interrupt him, and continues to trace his lips along any exposed flesh he can crane his neck to. Your eyelids had begun to shutter when you caught a gleam of his garnet eyes through silver lashes.
By God he was beautiful. His quiet charm was disarming. He didn’t even have to say anything. His intentions read clear on his face, and you were beggar to his every whim.
Gently, his arms urged you into a more stable position. Propped on your knees - straddling his waist high - his hands steadied you above him. Your own hands found purchase atop the headboard, holding you steady. You felt your cheeks warm up as he pressed his lips just below your ribs. His name puffed right out of your lungs.
Sylus feigned innocence, humming slow deliberate kisses as his nose persuaded your shirt to grant him more access to your bareness.
His hands, slow and teasing, were all over you; on the back of your thighs, sliding up your sides, caressing the soft bends of your every curve, playing with the thin strap of your panties. Meanwhile he peppered drawn out kisses up your sternum. All you could do was breathlessly watch as he took his time unraveling you.
Watching how he savored every press of his lips on your fevered skin.
Watching as his eyes flickered to you from time to time, taking in the look on your face. You were his muse, perfectly framed by a messy cascade of bed head. His favorite.
Your lips parted at the feeling of his wandering digits, ghosting their way back up your sides. Without so much as pushing your shirt out of the way Sylus guided his hands to your breasts. First the tips of his fingers, bumping against the swell of your chest, tracing its delicate underside. Then his thumbs, swirling around your areolas like vultures.
“Sylus--” the sound came breathier than before. His low chuckle vibrated throughout your entire body.
“I’m here” he cooed between kisses.
You had been ready to usher a complaint towards his fingers openly evading your hardening nipples, but you sang a much different tune when it was his palms that met them. By God, his palms. The touch was barely there, a whisper, a tease; there was no push, no pressure, only the rough feeling of his calloused hands rolling over the swollen buds. The delicate nature had you reeling. You almost would’ve preferred he bullied you. Pinched and pulled until you cried. Instead he had you quite literally in the palms of his hands, a stammering knees-trembling mess. It had your stomach doing back flips. Your head was spinning - light headed - you felt it lull to the side, dizzy with his relentless kisses and torturous hands. No tugging, no rolling, just barely touching you with the same airyness your shirt hung off your frame.
You wanted to touch too.
Keeping yourself upright you let your fingers bury themselves in his hair. With every whimper and groan you threaded them deeper into Sylus’ silver locks. It helped. It was grounding, but you wanted more.
A gentle tug to the back of his head was all the encouragement he needed. His blood red eyes found yours and he pressed a chaste kiss under each breast. You could feel the steam coming out of your ears.
His eyes never left you. He looked… content. He was most definitely pleased with himself, but also serene in his smugness. Like he was just making it up as he went, but it came as natural as breathing. It felt right, looking up at you, worshipping at your hips. He had no intention of stopping, sliding his hands down your sides.
Two fingers hooked around the side of your underwear, not to remove, but to hold. The other took the fullness of your cheek before giving it a firm squeeze. A soft moan escaped your lips and you rested your hands at the base of his neck. You continued to watch his face, searching for any hint at his next move. He studied yours; taking in your every reaction.
Teasingly, Sylus’ finger curled on the cutout of your leg and zip-lined down the back slope until it found the damp spot between your legs. Your shoulders stiffened in anticipation, and when he pulled the thin fabric to the side you’d forgotten how to breathe. Time slowed as his finger traced the slit of your envelope. It wasn’t until he dipped into your soaking folds, that you breathed again. So effortlessly had he parted you open like a con purse.
Feeling the drag of his finger between your lips made your jaw slack open in a breathless gasp. Sylus mimicked your expressions with added mirth, practically tasting you through his skin. He loved how a few of his kisses and teasing touches made you drip onto his knuckles. He relished taking his time with you. The way you mewed and groaned with every touch sent chills up his spine. You were his addiction.
His guiding hand, treacherously at your hip, broke its promise of stability and shook you slightly off balance. You grapple onto the headboard with a yelp in an effort not to crush him under you. You’re left hung over him further. Sylus nuzzles the valley of your breast, reaping his reward. Your hips instinctively pressed against his hand, hungry for yours. He couldn’t see your face, but he could feel your pulse hammering against his forehead. It took a lot of resolve not to let himself be consumed by the feeling of your weight against him; enveloping him, enwrapping him fully in your scent.
Sylus’ lips hummed a content growl, brushing the underside of your breast. Then finally, your reward. The addition of a second finger had you white-knuckling the felted headboard. Your eyes had closed. Your head was spinning again. It wasn’t enough.
You wanted more.
You needed more.
And so, every time his fingers slid past over your entrance, you pushed your hips just enough to send a message. You’d do it all morning if it meant getting what you wanted.
“You’re so eager,” he growled, “I love when you’re like this. So needy for me." At the end of the emphasized word, Sylus dipped his fingers inside you slowly, punctuating the claim. A whined noise escaped your lips. He matched it with his own hum of approval, and pushed inside up to his knuckle. He could feel you shiver over his shoulders. The sensation drove him wild. Your hips stuttered and jerked deliciously around him. Shit, you’d been so starved you could’ve come undone right then and there. He hadn’t even touched your clit. Nor could he. Not if he wanted to keep you from cumming all over his hand.
Feeling your grip tighten around his fingers. He knew you were close. Sylus bites into your side “Not yet, kitten.” His words come like a glass of cold water and he takes another bite of your tender skin, “Stay with me just a little bit longer.”
A ‘little bit’ didn’t feel so little. Not with the merciless rhythm of his fingers dragged against your walls. Your knees threatened to give out even with Sylus’ grip on your hip. He made you feel so good. He played you like his favorite instrument, knew exactly where and how to get the best notes out of you. His fingers twist and turn, then scissor open and close in a tantalizingly slow pace, stretching you; readying you for him. You found yourself swaying your hips, trying your best to match his tempo.
Your wanton breaths begged for it.
Then, as quickly as they had entered, they left you. It’s harrowing. He could feel you trying to suction back in; so desperate for release that you remained connected through a viscous string. You felt yourself throb in the emptiness. Clawing into Sylus’ hair you pressed pleading kisses atop his head. Needy didn’t begin to cover it. You had been reduced to a mass of heavy heaves and supplications. So desperately did you offer kiss after kiss, that you were oblivious to Sylus making quick work of his shorts. His hands had left you cold for a brief moment, but swiftly found their way back around your waist.
Planting a promise on your sternum, Sylus hooks his pinky finger on the back of your drenched panties and pulls them aside with ease, holding it just below the crease of your glute.
You let him take his time lowering you onto him. Into you. There’s no resistance. You swallowed him whole in your sedated pace. His hands slide up your lower back when you no longer need his guidance. They wrap around you, holding you the way they were always meant to. Sylus’ head lulled back, drowning in your bliss as you sink further and further around him. All the way down until your thighs meet and you’re face to face for the first time since you’d woken up.
He holds you on his lap, buried to the hilt inside of you, relishing in your pulsating grip. Your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck, gazing into the pools of wine that are his eyes. There’s still a lustful hunger in them, but there was also a tender quietness, a love for you like no other. Even in the throes of passion, Sylus was gentle, waiting for you to acclimate to him. Holding the moment as if it might shatter if he moved too suddenly. His lips brush against yours,
“What a treat you are to wake up to” he whispered before capturing your lips in his.
His words tasted sweet on your tongue as the kiss deepens. Once you’re ready, you let your body take over. Your movements were unhurried. They were lazy. Loafing. You felt your hips rock at first, then tantalizingly roll over him in a deepening grind. Sylus met your every shift as you took the lead. His hip movements were measured and methodical. His kisses hungry as you transitioned into a shallow bounce. Even in your lackadaisical rhythm you were utterly consumed. There was nothing outside of the burning friction between you, only the fevered palms pressed on your back, and the sounds of crumpling linens as you melted into each other.
You were engaged in this dance until you both needed to come up for air. His teeth caught your lip if you strayed further than his liking. His once collected growls became more guttural. Your breathing came more labored. Sylus’ chest rose and fell more noticeably.
The relaxed pace turned choppy. The snap of your hips was becoming sloppy, more primal. Caught in a frenzy of pants and groans, Sylus pressed his lips on your jaw, leading a steaming trail of kisses down your neck as you rode him. He couldn’t get enough of you. He wrapped his arm around you, keeping you from relenting. A single hand locked onto the back of your neck for his own anchoring. You followed suit, latching both hands at the back of his neck, pulling him closer just the way he liked it.
“That’s it.” he groaned, “Come on, baby.”
Your undoing came in like a wrecking ball. You didn’t even see it coming. You’d gasped and gripped onto Sylus’ back for dear life. Truthfully you couldn’t even ride it out on your own. Chasing after his own climax, he pounded up into you until you were nothing but a sobbing mess of pleas. With a firm tug, he pulls you by the neck down to him, clashing your lips together to savour sounds you’re making. Sylus held you in place as your hips faltered and stuttered above him. The muffled sounds of your cries came more and more frequent as he bounced you through your orgasm.
It was when you felt him dig his heels into the mattress that you really braced yourself. Cradling the sides of his face you tasted every gasp and grunt as he bottomed out inside you. A few more paused thrusts was all it took before the tank was sufficiently empty.
You held on to each other, playing tag, kissing each other’s lazy smiles and chuckles. Kissing until you’re no longer vibrating from the morning’s activities.
When your eyes opened again, they were met with the face of red eyed satisfaction, leaning back. Sluggish. Sylus held on to his perfect morning, drawing languid circles on the small of your back
What a treat to wake up to, indeed.