Text
He lost the bet, and so, Sylus must do whatever the twins ask of him. It's the least he could do.
"There are so many options, boss. I don't know where to begin." Sylus only hums softly.
"I'm a man of my word, but choose wisely."
The twins think it over for a moment. They get paid very well, with exceptional benefits. They have a nice home to stay in, so they move their thoughts elsewhere.
They think back on their training earlier in the week. Sylus was a bit more aggressive with them this time around. They were sure it had something to do with you. It was time for payback.
The two share a knowing smile, huddling together while whispering their plans. After a moment of serious debating, the twins turn to face Sylus.
"We do this with love, boss. For the next twenty-four hours you must tell your girlfriend no. If you lose again, boss, we get the chef to ourselves for a month."
Oh? This will be fun.
Or so he thinks...it took exactly one question for Sylus' resolve to waiver and crumble.
"Do you love me?" Sylus' breath catches in his throat when your glassy eyes stare up at him. Your hands cling desperately to his designer jacket.
He sighs internally. Some bets were worth losing.
558 notes
·
View notes
Text
True Treasure

Synopsis: Dragon Hybrid!reader is pregnant with Sylus’ first clutch. Just Sylus being cute + caring.
Warnings: Egg laying (sorry yall), one sentence about cleaning up after the eggs, praising, fluffy Sylus, don’t really know the world of dragons so I’m making it up as I go.
Sylus watches with red, stern eyes as his mate walked the length of the nest, hands cupping under her heavy belly. This clutch is insistent, stubborn and so tiring. Sylus is watching with bated breath, sharp red eyes following her movements.
The nest has been meticulously created by Sylus, adding warm furs and treasure with his scent coated on every piece. But she hadn’t even stepped foot close to it, refusing to relax.
Sylus purrs, the sound deep in his chest. He stands from the makeshift throne of stone and jewels. “Be calm, sweet girl.” He rumbles, approaching her cautiously.
Her nostrils are flaring, a thin white smoke puffing from them. “I cannot sit still. It’s nearly impossible.” She groans, waving a hand at Sylus, a small signal to not approach her further.
But Sylus was never that good at signals.
He tries his best to obey the furrowing of her brows and the way her wings twitch and shiver in pain. Until she lets out a groan more akin to dragon.
Sylus quickly moves to her side, his large frame looming over her. "Breathe," he commands firmly, his voice softer now. He knows the signs, he's seen it before. The contractions are starting. "It's time, isn't it?"
She wants to utter a sharp rebuttal but she groans, giving a small nod. Her hair falls around her horns a bit. Sylus gently guides her back to the nest, sitting behind her as he braids her hair out of her face, humming an old dragon song under his breath.
As Sylus gently braids her hair, his large hands moving carefully to avoid her horns, he hums an old dragon lullaby. The song is meant to soothe both mother and hatchlings during birth. His tail wraps gently around her waist, providing support as she leans back against him.
While continuing to braid her hair, Sylus presses his forehead against her temple. His deep, resonant voice continues the ancient melody. "Breathe through it," he whispers, feeling her body tense with another contraction. "You're doing well," he adds softly, knowing how vulnerable and exposed she must feel.
He finishes braiding her hair just as another contraction hits. This time, she lets out a pained whimper, causing his scales to prickle in reaction. He presses closer, murmuring calming words in their ancient language into her ear - "Thaethera'ma. Easy now, my heart."
She leans her head back, the dragon language soothing her nerves. She lets out a soft cry that echoes off the walls of the cave.
"That's it," he murmurs, supporting her properly now, his large frame molding to hers. The dragon language flows smooth from his throat, ancient phrases meant to ease her suffering. His clawed hands press gently against her lower belly as the contraction peaks. "Almost over," he whispers.
As the first egg emerges, slick and glistening, Sylus lets out a soft rumble of approval.
His tail wraps tighter around her, supporting her as she pushes out the second egg, and then the third. He counts them silently, ensuring the clutch is complete. "Perfect.”
She digs her claws into the nest. Sylus is now between her legs. He gently grasps the back of her head. She roughly bumps her horns into his, growling with fangs exposed.
Sylus responds to her growl with a low rumble, understanding her primal need for dominance even in this vulnerable state. He gently presses his horns against hers, allowing her to assert herself while he continues to support her through the final stages of labor. "Good girl," he murmurs approvingly.
As the last egg slips out, Sylus immediately begins to clean her, his tongue gentle yet firm as he laps at her belly and between her legs. He cleans the eggs gently, making sure they're warm and safe. "You did beautifully," he praises, nuzzling against her neck.
"Three beautiful hatchlings," he whispers, carefully arranging the eggs in the nest. He presses his chest against her back, providing warmth and comfort. His wings shield them both from the cave's cooler air as he gently rubs his cheek against her horns, a sign of deep respect and love.
His little family, his true treasures.
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
OOPSIES!
You got caught red handed smoking!
featuring - Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader
a/n - i can't do endings and english is not my first language so forgive me for any grammatical or structural mistake. Maybe I'll continue and make a version for Rafael, Zayne, and Xavier idk thoo.
Sylus

Sylus is an observant man. Every small detail, every precise moment, every specific word, does not go unnoticed. So it was quite a surprise that you have gone so long without him noticing your minor addiction. There were quite a few times where you almost thought you were done for. But hey, luck was truly on your side.
3 months ago You had invited Sylus over to your place to just relax. He had brought some food over and placed it over the kitchen counter where he came across 13 lighters splayed out. At first he thought you had taken an interest in collecting them, but upon taking a closer look it was from the same cheap brand you could find in a nearby mini market but in form of different colors. ‘sweetie what’s with all these lighters?’ he asked amused.
You paused for a moment, every time you used a lighter it somehow always ends up lost, frustrated you bought a whole bulk the other day. ‘oh I just love lighting up scented candles’ you waved it off. Sylus didn’t press further on and left it at that. That day Sylus went home but found not one single candle present in your house.
2 weeks ago Under the hot scorching sun you draped a shawl over your head trying to shield your boiling scalp from the immense heat. For the past days Sylus and you had just finished running some business errands and now had some free time to hop from one stall to another checking out what the locals had to offer. Within a few stalls Sylus had gone to purchase some refreshments leaving you some cash to look around and buy anything you wanted. You were looking through some fine jewelry when something else caught your eye.
A beautiful gold-plated ashtray adorning with intricate carvings. It was cool to the touch contrasting with the current weather and truly one of a kind. ‘An ashtray?’ Sylus appeared holding strawberry lemon soda in hand. ‘exquisite don’t you think?’ i said eyes still on the item. Sylus nodded an agreement, ‘let’s take a look at what other stores have to offer , oh and i already payed for it’ nudging his head towards the ashtray in my hand.
Present It was late at night yet the street lights illuminates the dark. Sylus and you had just drove through Linkon taking in the gorgeous city. It was cold and quiet everyone was fast asleep but you were parked in a 24 hour fast food restaurant enjoying an ice cream cone.
‘sweetie where’s the charger?’ he asked rummaging through the glove compartment. ‘oh yeah it’s in the armrest console’ you quickly replied. As Sylus reaches out to open it you had just recalled that it was where you had kept your Marlboro stash. Panic flowed through your chest ‘wait!’ you exclaimed, but it was too late and all you could do was sink into your seat.
Sylus examined the pack, opening it to find 4 sticks left 'Kitten this can’t be good for you, you just bought this 3 days ago' his voice carried out softly. I whipped my head to look at him 'how did you know when i bought this?' my brows furrowed questioning him. 'oh sweetie you can’t think I’m that oblivious' his lips curl into a smirk. 'if you knew all this time then why didn’t you tell me?' 'i thought I’d wait until you would tell me yourself besides, Mephisto is having a blast scouting for lighters to add to his collection' you gasped as a hand flew to your mouth feeling disbelief 'that was you?!' a finger pointed at him.
Caleb

Your head hung low looking aimlessly as cars passes by. A hand lays on the steel railing supporting your whole body while the other holds a cigarette between your index and middle finger.
You couldn’t comprehend why you continued this habit. Caleb is back, he’s alive, and you both have made up. So why couldn’t you put this habit behind you? Perhaps you were paranoid that he could be taken away from you any moment just like last time. Perhaps you’re worried that Caleb has changed and you couldn’t accept it, or perhaps-
You shut your eyes and took a long drag as the warmth overcomes you. The heavy bitter taste dances on your tongue as the nicotine settles in calming your nerves. You really needed to find another alternative way to soothe these thoughts. You were to caught up with your own mind when your ears perked up. It was as if someone has called your name.
Light footsteps clicked through your apartment’s living, You flipped your head towards the glass door behind you and to your suprise your favorite Fleet-space Colonel was currently peeking through your bedroom to look for you. Shit. At times like this you surely regretted giving him a spare key to your home. Quickly you dropped your cigarette onto the ground stumping on it before kicking it off your balcony.
The glass door slid and in walks Caleb with a big smile 'Hey Pipsqueak I’ve been calling out for you what’s got you so preoccupied out here?'. You shrugged and gave a nervous smile slowly inching back, afraid that the persistent tobacco scent would be noticed. 'Not happy to see me?' he chuckled grabbing your waist and pulling you into his embrace.
You noticed that he pulled away longer than normally but his hands were still placed firmly on your waist. 'name' his voice was sharp. It was the tone he carried when commanding the space-fleet. Oh surely you were fucked. 'hmm?' you cocked you head. 'Have you been-' he paused taking a scan of the small terrace. 'Have you been smoking?' brows furrow. Feeling caught red handed you didn’t bother answering him but rather threw your gaze towards the bustling streets.
A hand reaches your cheek guiding you to look at him But you’ve never, Why would you… Your gaze meets his and as the two of you locked eyes a silent understanding falls. His face softens up ‘You know you don’t need to carry all your burdens and worries alone anymore right?’ 'i knoww' you whined. 'how about you throw this away,' he said whilst reaching for my back pocket and waved the cigarette pack in front of me, 'and we’ll get dinner, my treat' he winked playfully. 'but it was expensive' i groaned frowning a bit. 'all the more reason to stop pipsqueak how about we also stop for dessert’ he squished your cheeks. ‘and snacks’ your voice muffled from the force against your cheeks. Caleb chuckled 'alright we have a deal' placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.
150 notes
·
View notes
Note
Good morning, Berri. I'm back with another LADS request. You can consider this request a continuation of this: https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk/780182378558767104/good-morning-berri-im-back-with-another-lads May I request: You bring the LADS men to your family's Christmas reunion party held annually at your grandparent's place for the first time. It didn't take long for that one flirtatious cousin to hit on your boyfriend. What happens?
i dont think ive done this before but also, just a heads up these are going to be shorter bc of the fact that youre asking for all of them - please remember that if you want more detailed requests to cap it at three as my rules state.
He won't take it at all. He doesn't respond to any sort of flirtatious comment that is being directed at him, no matter how subtle or overt the comment may be. He makes it very clear that he's only interested in you and nobody else, and just because it's family doesn't mean he's going to be nice. He wants to set down clear boundaries and make sure that nobody thinks he's going to do anything behind your back.
Zayne is the most polite of the group at least. He rebukes any sort of affection with a firm nod and a gentle push in the right direction - physically too, if he must. If they try to touch him or get too close he'll redirect by moving their hand by the wrist or gently pushing against their arm and putting his own around your waist.
At some point it'll just become very awkward for them when Zayne decides to just start giving them a cold stare. They'll say something, call him funny and try to touch his bicep again and everyone's watching because they've been seeing this rejection over and over again. He'll simply tell them that if they try to touch him one more time he'll be leaving because he feels like they're acting highly inappropriate with him. He'll level them with a pointed look and now they're forced to acknowledge their actions.
If they try to deny it then he'll drop it but if they try again then he'll simply ask to leave, the two of you slipping away as Zayne doesn't want to put up with it anymore. If they finally apologise then Zayne is going to make it clear that the apology hasn't made things "okay", avoiding them for the rest of the night in a more pointed manner and making everybody gossip and whisper.
Xavier will just avoid their touches. It doesn't matter how awkward it might be for him to literally jump away from them but he'll do it if he has to. He's already attached to you by the hip so it's not like you're going to be too far away for him to grab at. They'll laugh awkwardly, telling him that they don't bite and that he doesn't need to run away so viscerally. He doesn't bother replying, just turning his attention back to you and keeping close to you.
If they keep trying then he'll just turn and tell them to leave him alone. He isn't interested and he won't ever be interested. That, paired with the death glare he gives them makes it clear that even if Xavier looks passive and chill, there's no way he won't act on a perceived threat to his relationship - which is what they're presenting as. He'll make the message clear by just asking you if the two of you can go home and Xavier won't show up at any future events if they're present.

Rafayel doesn't respond well at all. Similar to Xavier, he has no problem acting out. He's known as difficult for a reason and he will pull out every diva card he needs to. The first statement is flatly ignored, Rafayel looking at them like they're the dirt on his shoes as he asks them what they're trying to do. He isn't a fan of what they're insinuating and he makes it clear, rolling his eyes and treating them unkindly.
He'll maintain a cold attitude throughout the entire event, making it a point of walking away or straight up laughing at them if the statement calls for it. He finds it highly offensive that they think hitting on him in front of you would work on him even if the two of you weren't together. If he gets bored of actively belittling them then he'll start ignoring and making it clear he wants to go home. He's even clingier than usual, and nobody's going to really like him after this event but he doesn't care, citing the flirting as the main reason why he's going to be mean and he has no problem doing so.

Sylus is also quite cold. He'll only humor it once, raising a brow and asking if they think now is really an appropriate time to be making such comments about him. He'll look around pointedly, arm around your waist as he draws attention to them attempting to flirt with a man in a clearly committed relationship. Then, he'll turn to you and say something in your ear while looking at them - it doesn't matter what he said but he'll laugh and you'll smack at his chest. The way he's acting will of course make them think it's about them and have everybody else whispering about it which will definitely ruin their day.
If, somehow, they have the guts to keep flirting with him he'll just tell them to shut up and leave him alone. He doesn't want to hear them talking to him nor have them think he'd even entertain the thought for half a second. His voice is harsh and maybe even a touch cruel but they probably will finally leave him alone afterwards.
Caleb is generally a very friendly guy but any advances that are given to him are just...bounced off if it's family or someone close to you. He doesn't want to be fully rude so he'll just develop selective hearing and ignore anything that he doesn't want to hear. It doesn't matter what they say or how they try to convey it - if they're trying to flirt with him he won't respond. It'll get to a point where they look desperate for his attention, clearly trying to flirt and failing so miserably as he shows them photos of you that he loves for the nth time.
If a stranger/someone not close to you tries to flirt with him all they get in response is a firm "no." No explanation, no other conversation, just a no. He won't say anything to them at all after the fact if it's clear the only intent was to try and get his number or something, making it clear he's in a loving relationship and that he has no want to entertain their advances.
234 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sitting on a swinging bench with Sylus, leaning against his side, head on his chest. You're fast asleep, but even still he keeps humming. Gentle fingers, hands that have murdered and hurt and killed, playing with your hair. Deep red eyes that terrify, softened as he watches over you
Soft petals dance on the wind and land in your hair. He chuckles softly as he brushes them aside, stirring you awake. Your face scrunches up, consciousness starting to set in, but Sylus shushes you and pulls your head back in against his chest and tells you to go back to sleep. A minute of his humming, and you're slipping away again
Your child has slipped away from the Twin's babysitting, running barefoot over to the bench. Sylus has to gently shush them, too, telling them to be quiet, it's your naptime, as he helps them up into his lap. They curl up against him, staring at you and the round swell of your belly. They look up at him, pointing at it
"My new baby brother is in there?"
He smiles, nods. "Or baby sister."
They stare again. "How does it fit?"
"They're very small right now," he whispers. "You were once that size."
"Really?" they gasp
"Mhm."
You stir with a small sound of discomfort. Sylus holds you closer, rubbing soothing circles over your bump. He feels the source; this baby has been restless, kicking his poor dear so often you don't get to sleep at night
Your child frowns in worry as they watch on. "What's wrong with mama?"
Sylus kisses their head reassuringly. "The baby is moving around. It can be uncomfortable. Do you want to feel it?"
They nod excitedly. He takes their little hand and guides it over the last spot he felt it. They wait a moment together. Then- kick! Your child jolts a little in surprise at the feeling, pulling their hand back with a gasp that has Sylus chuckling to himself. He reacted much the same way the first time he felt them kick in the womb. You'd laughed at the concern on his face, just before another kick knocked the wind out of you. He smiles fondly at the memory, at the joy of being new parents
You stir again, and he returns to comforting you. He taps your child on the back. "Run along and play now," he says. "Mama needs to keep resting."
They nod and slip off his lap. They look at you and your swollen belly a moment longer, before running off, back to tormenting the Twins
Sylus gently rocks the swing back and forth, back and forth, humming a song once more. It's one you'd introduced him to, though you'd never recognize it. You haven't cared for a long time about that, though; you just like the way his voice sounds
The spring afternoon passes in peace
898 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love and Deepspace boys with a lemurian!reader.
Info : 1.2k+ word count (about 400 per part), fluff, very slight angst in Zaynes part.
Notes : We need more content about lemurians, especially now since it's mermay!
Rafayels part is here!
Zayne
He would be curious about you and how your body is different from humans because of your origin, he would study you a lot and ask frequent questions. It was a bit creepy at first but he has your best interest at hand - he just wants to be able to take care of you in case something happens, so of course he needs the knowledge to do that. He doesn’t say it but he is afraid that you will be in pain because of some lemurian sickness or something will happen to you and he wouldn’t be able to help, or worse - he would harm you further.
Zayne finally realised why you were clinging to him so much. His body temperature was oftentimes naturally cold because of his evol and since cold temperature reminded you of water which was once your home, you of course often migrated to him. He made sure to have ice cream or cold water in his apartment whenever you came during hot seasons to cool you down, though his favourite method to do that was still cuddles.
He was a little unsure of your lemurian form at first, he wouldn’t come too close or talk too much but that was just because he was stunned, you were beautiful. It was shocking to him to see a literal tail instead of your legs but he quite liked you like this, not much changed in your relationship… other than the fact that now he was much more keen to have baths with you after he understood your need for the water, and he would encourage you to change into your lemurian form more to “stretch out your tail to keep it healthy” (he just wants to admire you). He’s also just a little freaked out by your ability to breathe underwater but he gets used to it.
Zayne made sure to keep your secret hidden, he was a supportive boyfriend from the start even if he didn’t know much about you and didn’t fully understand all your quirks yet. Not many people knew about Lemuria, people thought it was just a myth but now he knew it wasn’t and he was dead set on keeping you safe. Need a checkup in the hospital? Zayne would be doing that. One of the doctors thinks your temperature is too low? No it isn’t, you just didn’t wear warm enough clothes, he would say.
Xavier
He would not know for a longer time and he would probably be oblivious to any hints about it too. Once you would tell him though, he would be supportive but it ended at that. Later on however, he would start acting all weird with you. You were sitting down with him, talking to him about what happened at work and then he suddenly gets you a glass of water even though you had a different drink. You visited him in his apartment and he now had a humidifier and a lotion that he would randomly start to apply on you. And more. When you asked him about it, it turned out that he was studying how to care for fishes and other water animals and it said they needed lots of water and a cold, humid environment, and it worked.
Xavier would find your Lemurian form to be very pretty though you wouldn’t have many chances to show it to him, since your dates were mostly to public swimming pools and he didn’t have a big enough tub, but you did manage to show it to him once and he absolutely adored it. All the shiny scales, your eyes, he loved literally all changes of yours. You were worried he wouldn’t like them, but Xavier reads a lot of comic books so he was used to the image of fantasy creatures, though you were still the prettiest one he ever saw.
He would start to look at you a little more closely, try to see your mannerism, what you liked, what you didn’t want to touch, everything. He wanted to figure out how to make you more comfortable, since he guessed being a lemurian did come with its own challenges but he was prepared to help you navigate them. You felt bad since sometimes you had to cancel dates because you just didn’t feel like yourself but he always understood and just stayed at your place with you instead.
Xavier wouldn’t bring it up too much, it just became something natural for him at some point so he wasn’t even surprised if he would find you sitting in a bathtub for a few hours or if you would start speaking in lemurian after something scared you. He did however like to ask you about your home sometimes, since it was something very precious to you.
Sylus
Supportive king from the start because he is a dragon! You told him once over dinner and while he was curious, he was very respectful and made sure you took everything at your own pace. He would playfully tease you about it but it was all in love, his favourite way to tease you is to ask you if you still ate seafood if they were technically your neighbors and he would start to call you something like “starfish” instead of “kitten” sometimes just to see the reaction he would get out of you.
Fascinated about your lemurian form, he took it in as if he was looking at the most expensive diamond in his collection and he touched you like it too. He was always careful, gentle, as if he was afraid to hurt you or say something wrong but he would hide it with his confident tone. His pool was big enough to contain you so you sometimes had a chance to transform, but Sylus noticed that it wasn’t really as big as it should be for you to swim around freely so he made it like 5 times bigger. And his bathtub got upgraded to a bigger one too so you would be able to bathe with him while in your lemurian form since he wanted you to feel free to always transform whenever you wanted.
Sylus adores it when you speak lemurian, it’s like the hottest thing to him. He knows many languages but this one he sadly can’t learn since it’s lost to time but it was no issue because now you get to teach him! He managed to pick up some necessary stuff for when you don’t remember words in English or for when you are feeling horrible during one of the many cycles you go through as a lemurian, things like “food”, “need water” or his favourite - “hug me”. He also loves to hear you sing, your voice is one of a true siren and he will gladly fall under your spell each time if it means he gets to hear you sing more.
Ensures that nobody knows except him that you are a lemurian, not even the twins know since as much as they are useful, they probably would make you feel swamped with questions which he didn’t want. One day someone during an auction accidentally heard you say something in lemurian to Sylus and he did not hesitate to kill that guy on the spot. Another time during an auction people were talking about lemurians, their blood especially, and some were trying to gather intel on them, but Sylus quickly shut the whole thing down, because not only he cared about you but also about the very few of your kind that were somewhere in the world.
257 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi there! If you don't mind writing it, between the LaDS and MC (who are not in a relationship), who would confess their feelings first? And what's your headcanon of how they would confess? Would it be accidental in conversation? Out of frustration? Planned?
Additionally, if it's not too long, how would the other respond?
ahoy, thank you for requesting! oof, that was a roller-coaster of feelings with how I think it'd go for each of the love interests. I struggled with coming up with one for Sylus, but it became my favorite at the end<3
pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader
contents: fluff, love confessions, comfort, iloveyous || wc.1731

— XAVIER
Xavier's love is constant and has always been there, and you have subconsciously accepted in your life.
On a quiet afternoon, Xavier and you strolled along the sidewalk in search of an after-lunch dessert. You stopped in front of an ice-cream parlor and smiled at him, hinting at your want.
Smiling back, Xavier stepped up to the counter. "Two ice-cream cones, please," he ordered, adding in a request you couldn't quite catch.
Moments later, he returned with two ice-cream cones in your favorite flavor and handed you one. "Here you go."
Glancing down, you noticed your ice-cream toppings were arranged in a heart shape. "Thank you." Your voice trailed off as you let the realization set in. That was when you really looked and saw his love.
You realized Xavier had always loved you—how he spent most of his time with you, how he remembered all your preferences and favorites, and how your routines became a part of his days were all quiet ways of him saying I love you without needing to say it aloud.
His love had a steady presence in your life—always there, and it had always been enough.

— ZAYNE
Zayne's love is subtle, showing it whenever it was suited. He only wants for you to confirm your feelings, too.
Zayne promised to meet up with you after work. With a text sent telling you to dress nicely, he drove his car to your house and parked in your driveway, waiting for you to come down.
"Good evening, doctor," you greeted him at the door of his car before sliding in.
Zayne smiled in response, presenting you with a bouquet of jasmines. Small petals, subtle meanings. "This is for you."
"Aw, thank you." You accepted the bouquet. "What's the occasion?"
"Can't I gift flowers to the person I love?" He smiled, sparing you an appreciative glance before driving off the driveway.
You flushed at his words and buried your face in the bouquet, pretending to take in its scent as an excuse to hide away.
The drive to the restaurant was short. Zayne parked his car across the street and got out. He circled around to your side and helped you out. Linking his arm with you, he guided you to the entryway of the restaurant.
The hostess greeted you and asked for the number of attendees. Zayne replied, "There's a reservation under the name Zayne, please."
She quickly nodded and guided you both to your table—private and secluded, away from the crowds of dining guests.
The settings were fancy. Candles lit, drinks already poured, and the gentle music played soft tunes in the background.
With a smile dancing on your lips, you followed Zayne as he guided you to your chair. "What is all of this about?"
Sitting across from you, he linked his fingers at the underside of your chair and pulled you closer. "This is my confession to you. I want to keep you to myself." He gazed into your eyes, his voice softening. "Everytime I look at you and I can't help but want you by my side. Forever and always."
You threw yourself into his embrace, nodding eagerly to accept his feelings, to confirm your own.
And Zayne hugged you back just as eagerly, his face finding purchase at the hollow of your neck. He could feel the pulses of your beating heart—pulsating in response to his.

— RAFAYEL
Rafayel is loud and bold with his confessions and love like fireworks. Though he is waiting for you to meet him halfway.
Warm weather, gentle winds, and perfect sun. All the good factors to hold an outdoor gallery by the beach, and that was exactly what Rafayel planned to do. He had invited you to an event curated just for you, sending you a dress and the venue's address and urging you to be there on time.
"Hello, cutie! You're right on time." He greeted you at the sands of the beach kissed the pavement, taking your hand in his to guide you to what he wanted you to see.
You gasped at the sight.
Carpets of white were laid out over the beige of sand, and purples and pinks of flower petals were thrown across the floor. Canvases upon canvases showcased all around the center part of the gallery. They held the warm, gentle colors of spring and summer, splashed around the vast surfaces in intricate patterns to convey feelings and views witnessed through the eyes of an artist—and they all shared one subject. You.
You were the centerpiece of every canvas, painted delicate and dainty and with love.
Overwhelmed with feelings, you glanced at Rafayel, wanting him to take the helm as you set sail through the waves of emotions.
He took your hand in his, smiling gently, "I take it as you like my little surprise for you?"
"Like it? I love it—I love you!" You blurted out.
Rafayel gasped in surprise, nodding in excitement, "Oh, yes! I love you, too!" His voice rang with the same passion he had poured into each and every painting surrounding you. Bold, and bright, and unapologetic.
He couldn't hold his excitement in any longer and smothered your face with kisses.
Rafayel had always been bold with his choices. Bright colors, flamboyant clothing, and his declarations of love for you. Though he never forced you to reciprocate, always waiting for you to meet him halfway.
And you did.

— SYLUS
Sylus has always been open with his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve when it came to you. He's just patiently waiting for you to accept his love.
The city lights blurred into streaks as Sylus sped through the bustling roads. He had you riding behind him and clutching at the sides of his leather jacket as you felt the air resist against your helmet.
Mirror-clad skyscrapers mirrored racing reflections of you and Sylus whenever the motorcycle roared past their glinting surfaces.
Sylus drove you through the streets and roads, buildings bleeding into the background until they stood tall and unmoving once the motorcycle came to a stop.
Red light.
Your fingers twitched at Sylus's sides.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
You raised your head up and saw Sylus was already watching you with his visor raised up. He pressed a button at the side of your helmet, forcing your visor to go up as well. Your eyes met his—and you lost yourself in them.
They were captivating, alluring, and they held you with such gentleness that all your worries and woes melted away.
"Sweetie?"
"You blinked, eyes flickering from Sylus's to all the prominent features of his face before wavering. You focused on a faraway building, watching its surface catch the gleaming lights of the city. You sighed, "It's nothing."
Sylus was still watching you, and the distant look in your eyes gave you away. Something was bothering you, and you didn't want to let Sylus know.
He breathed out softly, hooking his finger underneath your helmet to redirect your attention back to him. "Listen to me," he said, "no matter what it is and no matter whoever is involved, just say the word and I will take care of it."
"I will," you responded, voice tender and raw. "I trust you will."
"I mean it." Sylus gently bumped his helmet against yours. "I'd do anything for you. You know I love you."
His eyes bore into yours and they spoke of love so deep, so pure. It seeped from his heart and throughout his veins, awaiting just outside the doors of your heart—to be accepted, to be welcomed.
Green light.
The traffic lights illuminated the streets with green, and it was time to go—to move forward and finally welcome his feelings into your heart.

— CALEB
"You have to be careful with what you're doing, pip-squeak," Caleb sighed in frustration. "I don't appreciate getting calls during work from people I don't know telling me something's happened to you." He stood up and paced around the room, each step heavy with stress.
Caleb beats around the bush about his feelings for you. Though he's clear about not wanting anyone else (other than you.) He'd be surprised when you finally admit your feelings for him, too.
He pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing your way. You sat in the middle of the couch, looking guilty and all too sorry for worrying him.
His heart broke a little at the sight.
Caleb crouched in front of you, his arms resting around your knees. "It's just that... I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to imagine living in a world without you. I love you—"
Upon uttering those three last words, Caleb clamped his mouth shut. He froze in place, never meaning for the words to slip out. He considered backtracking, playing it off as a joke, but he couldn't. He'd never do that. Not to you.
You looked down into his eyes, all quiet and unreadable.
A beat passed.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, Caleb." You smiled at him. "I love you, too."
No response.
"Caleb?" You waved a hand in front of his face.
"—Yeah?" He squeaked out, coming back to his senses. His face flushed deep red.
You laughed.
Caleb had never expected you to return his feelings. He had never meant to confess. But after hearing those three words from you, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.
And just like that, his world stopped collapsing in on itself—and it settled. Like love had always been there, but it finally had its proper name: you.
likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!
— until next tide, thanks for docking by 。𖦹°‧𓇼
© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.
466 notes
·
View notes
Text
LaDs Men Getting "She's busy bro" Text
Request: Hi!! I waited patiently (and eagerly) for your requests to open again, I'm so happy!! I love your writing!! I laughed so hard at the previous request where you mentioned Tara. I have another "Tara is on thin ice" idea, lol. Tara and Mc are having a girls night at Mc's place. Mc is cooking or just doing something, mc's receives a message from the lads men (something random like "hi, how are you, I'm off work"). Tara tells Mc she got a message (since Mc is doing something and she can't answer), and mc tells Tara to reply for her. All good and sweet, what does Tara reply with? "Hi, all good, she's busy now, she will talk to you later!" (Basically, the "she's busy bro" prank but with an oblivious Tara that didn't mean to prank them, lol)
AN: Hey anon, I am sorry for how last I am posting this. But thank you for requesting such a fun scenario. I hope you enjoy this!! Might be ooc at times but I am woman of dramatics so excuse me.
Ingredients: 75% fluff , 25% drama
My Fav: Zayne 🥺
Genre: She's busy bro, prank
Pairing: LaDS boys x fem reader
You’re in the kitchen, half-focused on stirring the pasta and half-listening to Tara rant about her latest training match when your phone buzzes on the counter.
“Hey, your phone just lit up,” Tara says, leaning over to check the screen. “It’s one of the guys. Something about ‘how are you?’ and ‘off work.’”
“Just reply for me,” you say, tossing a handful of garlic into the pan. “Tell him I’ll get back to him later.”
Tara shrugs, picking up your phone and squinting at the message. Her thumbs fly over the screen as she replies, “Hi, all good, she’s busy right now, she’ll talk to you later!”
She hits send with a satisfied nod, setting the phone back down without a second thought
Rafayel:
You lunge to catch Tara as she collapses, her hands flying to her throat, her breaths coming out in sharp, choking gasps.
“Tara!” you gasp, your watch buzzing with frantic alerts, the tiny screen flashing red with proximity warnings.
And then you see it. The curving, sinuous tendrils creeping from the edges of the painting on your wall. The one Rafayel gifted you not long ago. The inky black swirls ripple like living shadows, curling toward you.
You snatch your phone from the counter, one arm still braced around Tara’s trembling form, your body blocking her from the painting as the tendrils inch closer. You hit Rafayel’s contact, your finger jabbing the call button with a fury you can barely contain.
He picks up on the first ring, and you don’t give him a chance to speak.
“Stop it. Now.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end, the sound of crashing waves and distant seagulls crackling through the line, but you don’t flinch.
“I swear to the fucking seas,” you snarl, your voice low and dangerous, “I will never talk to you again if you hurt her.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, a flicker of hesitation, and then the tendrils retreat, coiling back into the frame like startled serpents, the air around you cooling as the painting slowly still.
Tara collapses against you, her breathing evening out, her death grip on your arm loosening as she gasps for air. You meet her wide, dazed eyes, your own heart still hammering in your chest.
She gives you a shaky, crooked grin. “That was kinda hot,” she croaks, her lips twitching into a weak, mischievous smile, and your heart melts on the spot.
It takes Rafayel three weeks of pleading, apologizing, and bribing (both you and Tara) to be forgiven for 'the incident'. He sends flowers, chocolates, and a rare pearl necklace that you suspect he made with his anguished cries.
But the painting stays. “For protection,” he insists, his tone defensive, his eyes shifting away from yours when you bring it up. “You’ll thank me one day.”
You roll your eyes, but don’t push it.
Xavier:
He just shows up at your door. Because, of course, he does.
However busy you were, he could stop it. He is a victim to the sunk cost fallacy. If he has to pull you out of some other guy’s orbit, he’ll do it, no hesitation.
He knocks once, twice, each rap firm but patient, the ripped delivery package dangling from one hand, his other tucked casually into his jacket pocket.
The door swings open, and he inhales to deliver his practiced excuse." “Delivered to wr....” He blinks, momentarily thrown off as Tara opens the door, her hair a chaotic mess, pasta sauce smeared up to her cheeks like she’s just face-planted in a pot of marinara.
Behind her, you’re hunched over a massive dish of pasta, a noodle dangling from your lips, your eyes going wide as you choke at the sight of him, your face turning a lovely shade of tomato red.
“Oh, he—uhgh!” you splutter, breaking into a fit of coughing, nearly dropping the fork in your hand.
Xavier’s eyebrow twitches, his frown slowly morphing into a wide grin as his shoulders relax, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in the chaotic scene.
There’s a long, painful beat of silence.
Then Tara, completely unfazed, just wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, shrugs, and steps aside. “You coming in or what, dude?” she says, like this is the most normal thing in the world.
Somehow, Xavier ends up joining your girls’ night, plopping down on the couch, grabbing a fork and helping himself to the monstrous bowl of pasta, because why not?
He makes a few snarky comments about your terrible math skills, but shuts up when you threaten to make him eat his own disastrous cooking as punishment.
Predictably, he’s the first to fall asleep. Conveniently, on your shoulder, his head tucked against your neck, his soft breathing mixing with the faint sound of the movie still playing in the background.
Zayne:
Zayne, of course, doesn’t take the bait.
He’s the only one who doesn’t react to the “She’s busy, bro” text like it’s a declaration of war, because he’s seen this sort of thing before.
As a surgeon, he’s often out of reach, his pager passed off to a resident while he’s deep in the OR, his hands steady, his mind clear as he cuts through flesh and bone. He knows what it’s like to be unavailable, to be occupied with things that demand his full focus.
So when he gets the text, he just blinks at his phone, smiles a little, and sets it down without a second thought, already mentally filing away a dessert he can bring you later, something to help you relax after your busy day.
And he does. He shows up that night, a paper bag in one hand, his coat still smelling faintly of antiseptic and coffee, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the faint lines of old scars.
“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, a little shy, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “I brought tiramisu. Thought you could use a break.”
He’s literally the most precious bby, and you have to resist the urge to hug him right there in the doorway.
Sylus:
He’s in the middle of a deal, lounging back in his leather chair.
He checks his phone on a whim, his fingers flicking over the screen, and sees your text. His lips curl into a slow, arrogant smile as he types out a quick, casual, “Hey, what are you up to, sweetie?”
When the "She's busy, she'll call you later," text comes back, the smile freezes on his lips.
Busy? Busy?
His mood sours instantly. His fingers curl around the edge of his desk. He flicks his gaze back to the fumbling dealer in front of him, and his generosity reserves run dry.
“Out.”
The dealer stumbles back, wide-eyed, sweat beading on his forehead as he stammers out a “Y-Yes, sir!” before practically tripping over his own feet to escape the room.
Sylus leans back in his chair, teeth gritted, jaw tight, the soft click of his metal-tipped fingers against the desk the only sound in the now-silent room.
But just as he’s about to mentally spiral, his phone buzzes again.
“Made a pretty big batch of pasta, would you like some?”
He blinks, eyes flicking to the photo you’ve attached. A literal tub of way too much pasta, the noodles piled high, the sauce thick and steaming, a chaotic heap of carbs that only you and Tara could possibly miscalculate into existence.
He huffs, a quiet, exasperated chuckle slipping past his lips, the tension in his shoulders melting away. He leans back, his head tipping against the cool leather of his chair, a small, fond smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll be there in 20. Don’t start without me.”
And just like that, his mood is ruined in a completely different way, his dark, dangerous aura slipping into something much softer as he straightens his tie and stands, already picturing you waiting with a bright grin and a mismatched fork.
Caleb:
“Why does she get to use your phone and I don’t?” Caleb storms around your apartment, his boots clomping against the hardwood floor, his uniform still perfectly pressed.
It’s been an hour of this. A Fleet Colonel throwing a full-on tantrum in your tiny studio, pacing like a caged animal, his jaw clenched, his fingers flexing at his sides as if he’s debating strangling the nearest pillow. You did put your plushies away at the first given chance.
Pouting. Whining. Sharp, accusing glances thrown your way every time you so much as move.
You’re honestly grateful that Tara had left before this. She’d probably just laugh and egg him on, and you don’t need two chaotic messes in your living room right now.
“Caleb, I was busy,” you try to reason, leaning against the kitchen counter as he paces. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
He whirls to face you, his eyes dark, his jaw ticking, his hair somehow still perfectly in place, untouched by the cap he’d clearly ripped off the second he stormed through your door. Your mind unhelpfully drifts to the way that uniform clings to his shoulders, the way his collar hugs his throat, and nope, now is not the time for that.
“Busy?” he spits, his voice a low, irritated rumble. “Busy with what? And why with her, exactly?”
You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead, already exhausted from the emotional hurricane that is Caleb. “I was cooking, Caleb. With Tara. I didn’t want to leave you hanging, so I asked her to text you back.”
He scoffs, his shoulders tense, his eyes narrowing like he’s daring you to try that excuse again.
Rage bait Tara is Colonel Caleb’s worst nightmare come to life. Given how you never seem to care how close she gets to you, how easily she invades your space, how unapologetically she teases you.
Much to Caleb’s dismay, you never seem to mind.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
True Treasure

Synopsis: Dragon Hybrid!reader is pregnant with Sylus’ first clutch. Just Sylus being cute + caring.
Warnings: Egg laying (sorry yall), one sentence about cleaning up after the eggs, praising, fluffy Sylus, don’t really know the world of dragons so I’m making it up as I go.
Sylus watches with red, stern eyes as his mate walked the length of the nest, hands cupping under her heavy belly. This clutch is insistent, stubborn and so tiring. Sylus is watching with bated breath, sharp red eyes following her movements.
The nest has been meticulously created by Sylus, adding warm furs and treasure with his scent coated on every piece. But she hadn’t even stepped foot close to it, refusing to relax.
Sylus purrs, the sound deep in his chest. He stands from the makeshift throne of stone and jewels. “Be calm, sweet girl.” He rumbles, approaching her cautiously.
Her nostrils are flaring, a thin white smoke puffing from them. “I cannot sit still. It’s nearly impossible.” She groans, waving a hand at Sylus, a small signal to not approach her further.
But Sylus was never that good at signals.
He tries his best to obey the furrowing of her brows and the way her wings twitch and shiver in pain. Until she lets out a groan more akin to dragon.
Sylus quickly moves to her side, his large frame looming over her. "Breathe," he commands firmly, his voice softer now. He knows the signs, he's seen it before. The contractions are starting. "It's time, isn't it?"
She wants to utter a sharp rebuttal but she groans, giving a small nod. Her hair falls around her horns a bit. Sylus gently guides her back to the nest, sitting behind her as he braids her hair out of her face, humming an old dragon song under his breath.
As Sylus gently braids her hair, his large hands moving carefully to avoid her horns, he hums an old dragon lullaby. The song is meant to soothe both mother and hatchlings during birth. His tail wraps gently around her waist, providing support as she leans back against him.
While continuing to braid her hair, Sylus presses his forehead against her temple. His deep, resonant voice continues the ancient melody. "Breathe through it," he whispers, feeling her body tense with another contraction. "You're doing well," he adds softly, knowing how vulnerable and exposed she must feel.
He finishes braiding her hair just as another contraction hits. This time, she lets out a pained whimper, causing his scales to prickle in reaction. He presses closer, murmuring calming words in their ancient language into her ear - "Thaethera'ma. Easy now, my heart."
She leans her head back, the dragon language soothing her nerves. She lets out a soft cry that echoes off the walls of the cave.
"That's it," he murmurs, supporting her properly now, his large frame molding to hers. The dragon language flows smooth from his throat, ancient phrases meant to ease her suffering. His clawed hands press gently against her lower belly as the contraction peaks. "Almost over," he whispers.
As the first egg emerges, slick and glistening, Sylus lets out a soft rumble of approval.
His tail wraps tighter around her, supporting her as she pushes out the second egg, and then the third. He counts them silently, ensuring the clutch is complete. "Perfect.”
Odette digs her claws into the nest. Sylus is now between her legs. He gently grasps the back of her head. She roughly bumps her horns into his, growling with fangs exposed.
Sylus responds to her growl with a low rumble, understanding her primal need for dominance even in this vulnerable state. He gently presses his horns against hers, allowing her to assert herself while he continues to support her through the final stages of labor. "Good girl," he murmurs approvingly.
As the last egg slips out, Sylus immediately begins to clean her, his tongue gentle yet firm as he laps at her belly and between her legs. He cleans the eggs gently, making sure they're warm and safe. "You did beautifully," he praises, nuzzling against her neck.
"Three beautiful hatchlings," he whispers, carefully arranging the eggs in the nest. He presses his chest against her back, providing warmth and comfort. His wings shield them both from the cave's cooler air as he gently rubs his cheek against her horns, a sign of deep respect and love.
His little family, his true treasures.
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !! — Sylus. got insanely horny & needy earlier and typed this up in a haze. no editing just wanting him to kiss with his cum still dripping out of me ₊˚⊹♡
Sylus is the kind of man who peppers your face in kisses while his weight crushes you to the bed, your mixed cum still leaking where his softening cock plugs you up. He’s the kind of man who, boneless and pliant from how hard he came, is driven by only one urge now— to make sure you know how much he loves you.
You’re coming down from how intense and passionate Sylus gets during your lovemaking when he begins to leave kisses wherever he can reach. The press of his lips on your face are soft and fleeting like a flurry of butterflies, but each one carries his devotion— his adoration. With how tightly his chest is pressed against yours, you can feel how his heart races and skips when you giggle, jokingly trying to push his lips away from your face. You can even feel how his cock twitches when you smile at him.
“You’re so clingy,” you say, voice hoarse from the sounds he had dragged out from you. A hand gently caresses his cheek, your thumb pressing into the plush of his lips and stroking them fondly. And Sylus, in turn, sighs like your touch is pure bliss —eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into your hand— and presses a kiss to the base of your palm.
“Can you blame me?” Comes his low murmur, “Making love to you brings me euphoria that I can never hope to replicate.”
You just fondly shake your head, the apples of your cheeks warming from the soft, tender look he levels you with. When his eyes meet yours, there is nothing in there but a love so deep that you fear you could drown in it.
“I love you,” Sylus says a moment later, cheek still pressed against yours hand, humming softly when he feels you tiredly clench around him. He kisses your hand again.
And oh, the effect he has on your heart is illegal. Sylus is so tender and vulnerable in your palms —nothing like the feared fiend from ancient legend, nothing like the terrifying boss of Onychynus. Here, heris just a man, softened by love and kisses. Rough, calloused palms are now so painstakingly gentle when they trail up your body in reverence, caressing you like you are one of his most valuable treasures.
“I love you too,” is all you can bear to say, the words just the tip of the iceberg of how deeply you return his affections. And like he knows what you really mean, Sylus smiles against the cradle of your palm and pulls you into a tender, sweet kiss that blurs the rest of the world.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Considering Sylus's background, there's a high possibility that he was abandoned and learned to survive on his own. Even as a child he's never been provided for. And although he has a shit ton of money now, and can buy anything under the sun, I don't think he knows what it feels like to be taken care of.
Now as an adult, gifts and caring words are offerings showered to appease him, lavish items and antiques are sent to him just to get the big bad leader of Onichynus on their side. Gifts out of fear, like placing a golden goblet before a dragon hoping he doesn't breathe down on them.
So it's obvious that he's never expected anyone to pay for him. The concept is so arbitrary to him, that he doesn't know how to react when you do.
It's a small thing for you. It happens very early on in the relationship when you were waiting for him at the Linkon market. Your eye happens to catch the stall selling squid-ink ice creams. 'Not worth the price' that's what Tara had said, but the contrast of the black ice-cream and the orange-red gummies reminded you of a specific someone so much that you end up buying two.
"There you go! this one's yours!" You said handing him the cone, it spelled out his alias 'skye' in mini gummies, which he could already tell you found hilarious.
You just handed him the ice-cream and then you were on to something else, but for him the moment stilled. That's the first time someone's given him something just because. No exchange, no expectation, no fear.
It felt... nice? Once the initial shock of it wears out, he waits for you to turn around and cheekily ask him to pay the vendor, but you just don't, already skipping away, your eyes set on something else entirely.
He stares at the stupid overpriced ice-cream in his hands, sloppily spelling out 'skye', as his lips tweak in a smile. It leaks onto his wrist under the humid Linkon sun and he licks it off, cringing a little at the taste. But he'll gobble it up, not a crumb left and the freebie napkin folded neatly and tucked into his pocket for a keepsake.
Once in a while, He could get used to this
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, if ur still doing dragon sylus, is there a possibility u do one about inviting him to your cottage for a meal and having different food etiquettes 💜
—੭୧ PAIRINGS: Dragon!Sylus X Reader
—੭୧ NOTES: How I feel after saying I won’t write for dragon sylus anymore and then continue to write for him:
—੭୧ WARNING: This work contains graphic materials!
You have grown used to it by now, He flies in the den after his hunt, his wings folding against his scale covered back as he drops the dead fawn from his mouth onto the ground. Dinner served.
His kind never learned etiquettes, their instincts ran on survival not manners. So it was no surprise that sylus tore into his meals with claws and fangs, biting through bones and muscles like nothing could stand between him and his hunger.
You had winced the first few times, turned your head away when he crunched too loud— flinched when blood sprayed from his meal. But now you just move a little to the side so it does not stain your blanket.
The first time you'd invited him into your cottage, you learned just how not human he really was. He'd tried to duck under the wooden gate at the front, one wing folding, the other accidentally hooking into a crack in the old planks. When he stepped forward and the gate didn't let go, it snapped clean in half.
He'd stood there, blinking at the broken remains in his claws, then slowly looked up at you with that low, guilty rumble that said:
Oops.
Then came the chairs. He didn't understand why you'd looked so distressed after he sat. The wood cracked like brittle ice beneath him, shattered in a second under his weight. Another "oops." Then the table behind him caught his tail when he turned. That one went down like a dying soldier-plates, bread, and all.
It didn't happen all at once. Teaching Sylus how to eat like a human was like teaching a wolf to sip tea. it was never going to be natural. But gods, he tried. For you.
At first, he used his claws. Tried to stab the meat like a skewer. Then he licked the spoon experimentally, made a face like the spoon personally offended him, proceeded to drop it into the bowl with a snort.
"Too small," he grumbled. "Takes too long to get full."
"That's the point," you said, laughing as you wiped broth from his chin. "Slow eating. Conversation. Enjoyment."
"Enjoyment is eating the deer whole," he muttered under his breath.
Still, he humored you.
He tried using utensils. His claws were too long, his hands too big, and the poor fork bent more than once. But he focused, brows furrowed, tongue slightly poking out like a child learning to write. He watched you eat carefully-mimicked your movements, mirrored your pace, even when it frustrated him. You taught him how to chew quietly, how to wipe his mouth with a napkin instead of the back of his hand (or wing), and how to pass the bread without impaling it.
Some nights, he still brought his hunts to your cottage.
fresh, steaming, maybe alive? But instead of devouring them on the floor, he'd pause now; Ask if you wanted to cook it. If you'd like to eat together. He'd wait.
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
eelliotss’ library



i hope you’ll find something you like here
‼️angst, angst, and angst
— a curse between us [sylus x reader] [ongoing]
Will she always be his fate, or will your introduction into the picture tip in balance of his destiny?
part 1 | part 2
— borrowed time [caleb x reader x sylus] [ongoing]
“Can’t we just enjoy the moment without making things complicated?”
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
— that’s where these stories get wrong
He doesn’t need to be trapped in a game to be in a different world than you.
— the way you look at me [sylus x reader]
He spent a lifetime chasing her, only to see in her eyes the very fear she once promised he’d never deserve.
— a whisper of what was [sylus x reader]
“May we forget the cruelest trace of all—the fracture of what could have been.”
shh
616 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Rhythm with You
Hi! I’ve been wondering if Sylus ever had a partner before, but I like to think he was always focused on building his empire—so this would be his first time dating someone, too. So what would he do when he encounters your first-period moment? As always, thank you for your support. I hope this story brings you comfort and warmth 🤍
Synopsis | At first, he wasn’t sure how to help—but Sylus was there. In the early days of dating, he sat beside you, followed your cues, and paid attention. Over time, he didn’t need to ask. He just knew—because he had made it his mission to learn, one quiet kindness at a time, to move in rhythm with you.
First Month
It was almost 9 PM when your phone lit up with a message.
I’m downstairs, kitten. Come get me?
Just a simple text—no punctuation, no dramatics. Just like him. Quietly certain, calmly present.
He had mentioned earlier that he might drop by after wrapping up his day, but with how unpredictable his work could get, you hadn’t counted on it. Still, a small part of you had hoped. Now, seeing his name on your screen, that hope blossomed into something warm—comforting, familiar—even as your body ached with cramps that hadn't let up since the afternoon.
You exhaled, slowly stood from the sofa, pushing back the blanket from your lap. The heat pack clung to your lower belly, soothing but not enough. Your limbs felt heavy, your skin clammy despite the cool air. You hadn’t been expecting company, but this was Sylus. And somehow, that made everything feel a little more manageable.
You tied your hair back loosely, slipped on your softest sweatshirt, and padded down to the lobby in white slippers and tired steps. He was already standing by the lounge chairs when the elevator doors opened, tall and dressed in his usual dark suit.
He looked up.
And the moment he saw you, his gaze shifted—subtle, but immediate. His brow furrowed slightly, his sharp eyes softening as they scanned your face. His hands were in his coat pockets, but one pulled out immediately as he stepped toward you.
“Kitten,” he said gently, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You don’t look well.”
“I… it’s just that time of the month,” you mumbled, averting your eyes.
It took half a second before realization hit him. His expression didn’t change with surprise or awkwardness. Instead, he gave a small, understanding nod, then came the silence. Not awkward, just calculating—Sylus's kind of silence.
“Alright,” he said quietly, at last. “What do you need? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
You blinked at him, surprised. “It’s fine, really. Besides, I don’t want to trouble you. You must be tired—”
“And yet I’m here,” he interrupted gently. “And I want to be. So let me help, kitten. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m a fast learner.”
His sincerity made your chest ache. And before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “It just hurts today. A lot. I feel so tired.”
Sylus didn’t say anything else. He simply led you back upstairs, one hand steady on your lower back. He didn’t let go even as you put your thumb on the sensor of your door lock. He followed you in like he belonged—not intruding, not hovering. Just being near.
Within minutes, when you sank yourself back to the sofa, he had removed his suit and folded it neatly over the chair. He grabbed a bottle of water without needing to ask where things were. When he brought it to you, he crouched down by the sofa instead of sitting somewhere separate.
“What should I do?” he asked quietly, not looking away. “Heat pack? Tea? Massage?”
You gave him a tired laugh. “You’re being too polite about this.”
“I’d rather be too polite than careless,” he replied, brushing your hand with his thumb. “But tell me exactly what helps. I want to learn.”
And so you walked him through it—where it hurt, what helped, what to avoid. You told him about your go-to tea, the weird mix of wanting heat but no hands on you, and the rotating lineup of meds you relied on. You even chuckled while explaining it all, trying to keep it light.
He listened. Every word. No discomfort, no jokes, no disinterest.
He helped you position the heat pack, adjusted your throw pillows, and made sure you could lie comfortably. Then, he sat on the floor beside your sofa and watched as your eyelids fluttered lower. When your breathing softened, he reached for his phone, resting it on his knee as he started reading.
He wasn’t scrolling aimlessly. He was researching. He read everything he could: how to hold her through a cramp, which teas help, how hormones could drain her energy, the signs of hormonal fatigue, the words that comfort and the ones that don’t. Everything.
Sylus didn’t need to be told. He just decided that if this was part of your life, then he would make it part of his too. Because, loving you meant learning.
When you stirred a little while later, eyes barely open, he was still there—leaning back against the couch, phone in hand, fingers quietly combing through your hair.
“I’m staying tonight,” he said softly, without lifting his eyes. “Not to crowd you. Just to be close. If you need anything—even at three in the morning—you can just tell me.”
You nodded, too tired to speak, but the tears that gathered at the corners of your eyes said everything.
He placed your hand on top of his own, laced your fingers together, and whispered,
“Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.”
•••
Second Month
It had been a long week.
The kind of week where stress clung to your shoulders like fog and your lower back ached with every shift. By the second day of your period, the cramps had set in deep—radiating and stubborn, dulling your appetite and sapping your energy.
Thankfully, it was the weekend. You didn’t have to leave the house. Your oversized knit sweater dress felt like a warm hug, and your white slippers padded softly across the wooden floors. Still, the heat pad had been your closest companion all day—and even that was starting to lose its edge.
You hadn’t said much to Sylus. Just a simple message in the morning:
Second day. Hurts a bit. Staying in today.
He didn’t ask for details. He never did when he knew you were trying to preserve your energy. His reply came a few minutes later, simple but certain.
Then today’s not a day you’ll face alone. I’ll see you tonight, kitten.
You hadn’t expected a follow-up. That was his way—steady, no dramatics, no fuss. But when the knock came at your door just past dusk, it still startled you gently.
You hadn’t heard his arrival. No buzz from downstairs. No text. But maybe the security desk was used to him by now—his name, his quiet presence, the way he never needed to announce himself. They probably just waved him through.
You slipped your feet into your white fluffy slippers and crossed the apartment to the foyer. When you opened the door, Sylus stood there—tall, composed, his black leather jacket resting on his shoulder, silver hair gently tousled, a paper bag in one hand. His crimson eyes swept over you with subtle concern.
“Sylus," you murmured.
“Hi, kitten,” Sylus said softly, his voice low and grounding. He brushed his fingers lightly along your cheek. “Still hurting?”
You nodded.
Without another word, he stepped inside, slipped off his boots at the foyer with practiced ease, and folded his jacket carefully over the arm of a chair. In one hand, he carried a modest paper bag.
You settled back into your spot on the sofa, hugging a pillow loosely, and glanced at him curiously.
“I brought your favorite dark chocolate, and…” he said, pulling the tea pouches from the bag. “A few other things.”
You blinked as he walked past you toward the kitchen.
“Wait… you made tea?” you asked softly.
“Mm,” he called back, his voice low and calm. “I blended it after your message”
You blinked again, sitting up a little straighter on the sofa, the throw blanket sliding down your lap. You heard the faint rustle of things being unwrapped, the hush of warm water being poured into the kettle. There was something deeply comforting in the way he moved—no loud clatter, no unnecessary words. Just a quiet, purposeful rhythm that told you this wasn’t new to him anymore.
He returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying your favorite mug, the steam curling gently into the dim light. You could already smell it—floral, warm, slightly sweet. As he handed it to you, his fingers brushed yours.
Then slowly knelt in front of you—his tall frame folding with quiet ease as he rested one hand on the edge of the sofa. His other hand remained lightly on your knee as he looked up at you with that steady, soft gaze.
“I tried something new,” he said carefully. “Same rose you love, but I added chamomile this time. Thought it might help with the pain a little more.”
You bring the mug closer to your face. “It smells… really calming.”
“Yeah. Rose for the comfort, chamomile for the cramps, and… just a pinch of mint,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging upward, eyes glinting with something tender.
You tilted your head with a small smile. “Mint?”
He chuckled under his breath. “I used to think it was just for cooling. Turns out, it helps ease muscle tension. Didn’t know that before. But I do now.”
There was something quietly proud in the way he said it—like this tiny discovery meant the world simply because it made your day a little easier.
Your heart swelled, the tenderness of his effort curling around your chest like the steam rising from the cup. You held the mug a little closer, as if cradling more than tea—like you were holding the proof that someone was thinking of you, learning about you, caring in the quietest, most meaningful ways. The warmth of the ceramic sank into your palms, steady and soothing, while the scent wrapped around you—delicate, grounding, and suddenly hard to breathe through without blinking back the sting behind your eyes.
You took a sip. It was perfect—rounded and smooth, the rose gentle on your senses, the chamomile drawing the tension out of your chest, and the mint a faint whisper of clarity beneath it all.
“Sylus, this is the best tea I've ever had," you said, blinking through the surprise, your voice small. “You don't just remember my favorite, but you also take the time to learn.”
“I didn’t just remember,” he said, voice low—yet, excited. “I’ve been practicing. Figuring out what soothes you. Not just what you like, but what helps.”
“This is… really thoughtful,” you whispered.
His gaze lingered on you, steady and soft. “You’re thoughtful with everyone, kitten. Let me be that for you, too.”
You couldn’t help but give him your best smile. You leaned into the cushions, the mug warm between your palms, your body finally beginning to exhale. The aches hadn’t vanished, but they’d dulled—tucked beneath the comfort of warmth, scent, and silence shared with someone who was slowly learning to hold your pain like it was his own.
His gaze traveled to the way you curled, the way your shoulders looked tense beneath the softness of your sweater. Then came the teasing glint in his eyes.
“So,” he said, a quiet grin tugging at his mouth, “Do you prefer me as your pillow tonight or should I take my previous post as floor-warmer? Though I doubt you’d feel me with those slippers on.”
You blinked, then gave a tired laugh, surprised by the sudden lightness.
“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured.
“But available,” he added smoothly with his velvet voice, raising an eyebrow. “Customizable to your needs.”
You shook your head, smiling as you patted the spot beside you on the sofa. “Pillow. Definitely pillow.”
“Good,” he said softly, slipping off his watch and settling beside you. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He eased himself into the space with quiet grace, and you instinctively leaned into his side, tucking your legs up, your temple resting just beneath his collarbone. His arm came around your shoulders with practiced care, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, grounding you.
After a moment, he shifted slightly and asked, “Did you take anything for the pain yet?”
You shook your head.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket draped nearby and pulled out a small packet, holding it out with one hand, and a bottle of water from the paper bag with the other hand. No words—just the offer, gentle and steady.
You reached for the pill first with your free hand, and as your fingers closed around it, Sylus extended his other hand toward you with a silent gesture. You understood. You passed him your mug, now half-empty and still warm, and he took it carefully, the ceramic settling perfectly in his grip.
In the same motion, he offered you the water bottle to the hand that had just released the mug. Your fingers brushed as you took it, and you swallowed the pill in one quiet motion.
Once you’d taken a few sips, Sylus reached out with his other hand to take the bottle from you. Then, with quiet care, he leaned forward and placed them both side by side on the coffee table, every movement unhurried and precise.
“Hands free,” he murmured as he turned back to you, a little smile smirk his lips. “This way, you can lean on me properly.”
You let out a small laugh, your body relaxing bit by bit.
You curled closer to him, just as you were about to melt into the comfort of his side, his hand moved beneath the blanket resting over your stomach, never too firm—just there. You felt it then: a gentle warmth blooming just under your navel, like a second heat pad pulsing to your rhythm.
You exhaled, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re using your Evol, aren’t you…”
“Let me take a little of it, sweetie. Just enough to help,” he said gently. “But, I’ll stop if it’s too much.”
“No,” you whispered. “It’s perfect.”
His other hand found yours, lacing your fingers together, anchoring you there in the softness of the moment. The light from the floor lamp painted quiet gold across the room, and for the first time that day, the ache in your body loosened its grip.
“You’re really good at this now—taking care of me,” you murmured.
He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice low against your skin.
“I told you,” he said. “I learn fast. Especially when it comes to you.”
And that evening, tucked in close to him, you realized it wasn’t just that he was learning your body’s rhythms—he was learning how to carry your pain alongside you. Word by word. Month by month. Without needing to be asked.
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
angsty thought... sylus x non-mc!reader thought... probably ooc sylus but anyways
non-mc!reader who is sylus' partner in the current timeline but isn't a fighter, very much a domestic stay at home spouse who always looks after sylus and the twins... even giving mephie some love too... everyone loves you for the normalcy and peace you give them; the way the n109 zone just feels like home with you... that is, until mc comes into the picture...
it starts with sylus being less responsive, less attentive. he might be in the room with you but he's mentally off far, far away. he won't tell you what's wrong, no matter how much you try to coax it out of him; he won't budge. how could he tell you, his spouse in this life, that he's finally found his soulmate again? you try asking the twins if they know anything, the two boys looking sheepish when they admit that sylus has been working with mc... mc, who's a hunter sylus is desperately trying to resonate with... the twins feel terrible breaking the news to you but you're like their parent and they can't bring themselves to lie.
it gets to a point when you notice small things; mephie no longer follows you around during the day to keep an eye on you, the twins are no longer stationed at the house... and sylus? he's with her. he's got them looking out for her, while you're alone in a big lonely mansion. it's only a matter of time before his enemies realise he's left his dear spouse wide open and ready for the taking... and you can only wonder if he cares enough to notice that you've been taken as you're in and out of consciousness in this stupid black van, going god knows where.
Link to second part ideas
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
you get jealous (LADS Men)
featuring - Xavier x F!Reader, Rafayel x F!Reader, Sylus x F!Reader, Caleb x F!Reader, Zayne x F!Reader
a/n - really struggled to think of a circumstance for the one that wants to lock us up...

XAVIER
It was just not your day today.
Not only did you come back from a solo mission completely exhausted, dirty and emotional, but you also learned that Xavier had been tasked with helping another Hunter after their partner went down.
A female Hunter.
Now, normally that wasn't a cause for alarm. You trusted Xavier more than you trusted anyone - your life had literally been in his hands a few times. It was the female Hunter you didn't trust; Xavier was a very, very attractive man and it was no secret - you'd often caught women staring at him.
Nonetheless, you stayed at the Hunters Association building until they got back, only for your stomach to churn unpleasantly when you heard his voice followed by her laughter, before you saw them.
She was pretty, you'd give her that. But that wasn't what made you feel insecure - it was the fact that she was unharmed. No scratches, no wounds, not even dirt on her face. And there you sat, dirtied and bloodied like you'd fought a war.
Embarrassment filled you, your face burning as you hastily got to your feet. You made a swift and quiet exit, not wanting to draw either of their attention.
When you got home, you sat in the shower for what must have been an hour. You just curled up on the floor, letting the hot water cascade over your tired body, your eyes sullenly watching the droplets hit the tiles and slide down into the drain. You'd never had any reason to feel insecure before, but today was just not your day.
You heard the apartment door open and close, signaling Xavier's return. Your frown deepened, and you didn't make any move to get up and greet him. But he must have heard the shower running, because he stopped outside the door and knocked, calling your name softly.
"Hey, Xavier. I'll be out in a minute."
That brought a frown to his face. You were typically happier to see him, and your voice didn't normally sound so...sad. But true to your word, you opened the door moments later, wrapped in a towel with your damp hair sticking to your skin.
Xavier's breath caught. He always thought you looked beautiful, but something about seeing you like this, now, made his heart flutter. The sun was setting, just barely peeking into your apartment, but the soft light made your skin glow, and your hair shimmered like strings of diamonds had been weaved between the strands.
"How was it?" Your voice cut his daze short, bringing him back to reality.
"What?" He blinked, momentarily confused.
"The mission," you answered, though a hint of annoyance could be heard in your tone.
Xavier frowned, "It went well."
"Yeah, I see that."
Then you sidestepped him and walked into your shared bedroom, still not even offering him a kiss or even a smile. He trailed behind you, his shoulders sagging, looking and feeling like a kicked puppy.
"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his voice soft, tinged with hurt.
"No," you shook your head, pulling on an oversized t-shirt - one of his. That at least bode well.
"Then what's wrong?" He pressed, settling beside you on the bed. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, slowly trailing down before his fingers met yours.
"She looked good," you spoke barely above a whisper, voice coming out weak and vulnerable. "Better than me, at least."
"What are you talking about?" His frown deepened. "You mean (Other Name)?" You flinched, and he immediately realised his mistake. "I'm sorry. I just wonder...what makes you think that? She is not better than you, in any way." His hand grasped yours, holding it tightly.
"It's just..." You took a deep breath. "I waited for you, but I didn't look very...presentable. I was dirty, covered in blood-" he stiffened but you ignored that, "-and exhausted. But when you guys walked in...she looked fine. No dirt, no blood, no sign of exhaustion..."
Xavier thought about this for a moment, then gave you a straight answer, "That would be because I mostly dealt with the Wanderers. And you were given a harder assignment, if I recall correctly."
"Still," you whined lowly, "It made me feel...weak."
And then Xavier realised - you weren't insecure about your looks. Because of course not, why would you be? You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - and he'd lived a long life.
"You're not weak," he softened his tone, bringing your hand up to his lips, "I would know. I have seen you face odds that even worried me a little bit. And you faced them head-on, and came out stronger because of it." He kissed your knuckled again, "And, might I add, you have done so without me, sometimes."
Your face burned, a smile slowly forming on your lips, "How do you always know just what to say?"
He smiled, "That's you, again. You taught me all of this - how to love, how to comfort, how to just...be. You don't ever have to worry about anyone being better than you, because you far outshine anyone else in every single aspect. And...I'll make you realise it, eventually. I promise."
You smiled brighter, tears brimming in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. He held you close, keeping you against his chest, continuing to whisper sweet words into your ear until you were completely relaxed.
RAFAYEL
The temptation to smack your silly fish boyfriend upside the head was becoming too overwhelming to ignore.
You were at another one of his art exhibitions, arms crossed over your chest as you stood alone before one painting. The purple-haired man was a few feet away, deep in conversation with another woman. An actress.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning your gaze to one of the art pieces on display. You refused to let that sight get to you, but the longer he spoke to her the more antsy you got. And it was not for lack of trust in Rafayel, because you trusted him (how could you not when 90% of the time he was glued to you), but you didn't trust other women.
Especially not the ones who were so versed in the art of flirtation, just as he was. Every laugh, every seemingly innocent touch, every flirtatious smile...your blood was boiling.
It would have reached a tipping point, and you would have most likely shoved yourself between them, had the realisation that their professions were much more similar not hit you square in the face in that moment. You and Rafayel were very different, polar opposites if you will, and your jobs couldn't be any more different.
And acting was a form of art, too. Well, some would argue so. It was definitely more related to painting than hunting and killing Wanderers.
In that moment, it felt as if the world was a spinning top. Nausea bubbled within you, your stomach twisting in the most unpleasant way. You had never paid much attention to how different the two of you were, until now. It had never seemed important, because all that you two cared about was who loved the other more - which made for fun arguments.
But now...
You turned away from the scene, the sound of your heels clicking against the smooth marble floor drowned out by the buzz and excitement of the crowd around you. Your exit going unnoticed because of how many people were in attendance.
When you finally found a space outside to breathe, the nausea had subsided enough for you to feel like you were not going to empty your stomach onto the pavement. It still lingered, but didn't bother you as much.
"There you are!" Rafayel's voice met your ears not even two minutes later, "I'm questioning my bodyguard's careless decision to leave me in a gallery full of strange people." He meant it jokingly, but when you didn't laugh, when you didn't even turn around to look at him, his playful grin dropped.
"Sorry, I just needed some air," you replied, voice uncharacteristically monotonous and flat.
"What's wrong?" His scent filled your nostrils a split second later, his hands coming up to turn your body to face him.
"It's-"
"Don't say nothing," he cut you off, "I may sometimes be oblivious to how you feel, but I can see something is wrong."
"I don't want to ruin your night," you gestured to the gallery.
He shrugged, his arms looping around your waist, "I'll have many more of these. They're not special." He nuzzled his face against your neck, "You, on the other hand, are."
You sighed, a heavy sigh that really caught his attention, "Rafayel, have you ever noticed how different we are?"
His entire body went rigid, before his arms somehow tightened around you, cocooning you in his warmth, "No. Don't. You can't do that." His voice shook for a moment. "Don't break up with me."
"I'm not," you reassured him, "I just...you paint for a living, I hunt Wanderers. You're into art, I know nothing about it. You know how flirt, you charm your way through everything, and I just...don't." You took a deep breath, then, "And acting is so much closer to your profession than being a Hunter."
His eyes narrowed, the gears in his head turning slowly. When he finally realised what this was about, his grip loosened and he let out a laugh, "Cutie, are you serious? You were jealous of that woman with the crooked nose? Who laughed, no wheezed, like she had just run a marathon? That lady?"
"Rafayel!"
"I'm serious! I could barely hear what she was saying, her nose was directing me another way!"
"Oh my God," you laughed, unable to help it, shaking your head.
He grinned, relief flooding him at the sight of your smile, "Feel better, cutie?" He cupped your cheeks in his hands, "Or should I tell you that she had the forehead of a baluga whale?"
You laughed even harder, playfully smacking his arm, "She looked prettier from the back!"
"Well, she wasn't," he pulled you against him, hands resting on the small of your back, "Believe me when I say this, you are the most stunning, gorgeous, badass woman I have ever seen, and you always will be. I could paint a thousand pieces, but none of them will ever hold a candle to your beauty." He kissed your cheek, "And I quite like having a Hunter girlfriend; I can brag to anyone I meet about all the Wanderers you've killed."
Your shoulders immediately lost all the invisible weight they were carrying, "Sometimes, you can be so utterly sweet. Thank you, Rafayel." You leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"Sometimes?!"
SYLUS
Sylus was breathtaking. No one could contest that. He was not only physically intimidating, but he was so handsome that sometimes even you felt intimidated. He was the kind of handsome that had women blushing and talking in hushed whispers, fanning themselves while trying to keep their knees from buckling.
You'd never had trouble keeping Sylus's attention. In fact, when you were around, anyone else with him struggled to keep his focus on them. You were always the center of his attention, and always would be.
But of course, you had your moments.
You'd always thought that next to such an attractive man like Sylus, you were inadequate. Or average, at best. That was far from the truth in his eyes; he felt like he wasn't worthy of your beauty. Not even just the physical kind - the kind of person you were was beautiful, pure.
It was a special night for the two of you. It marked a year since you'd admitted to being in love with him, a year since your relationship had began. But he was away, securing loyalty from another gang that ran rampant in the N109 Zone. He promised he would be home soon, and he usually kept his promises. He never disappointed, and he certainly never hurt you on purpose.
So you were fine with it, as long as you got even a few minutes with him.
But then your phone buzzed, and a photo popped up on your screen, sent by an unknown number. You would have immediately disregarded it, had it not been a picture of Sylus sitting across from the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen. He was leaning forward, making it look like he was saying something inappropriate, but you couldn't tell because his face was obscured.
You really should have just deleted the photo and moved on. But then the next message came.
Not with him this time? I guess he feels embarrassed bringing you along when he's talking to someone like that.
They didn't have to elaborate. You could guess what they meant even if you didn't know who she was. She was beautiful, she looked powerful, and she was probably a lot like Sylus. Not his equal, he had no equals, but a perfect match.
You felt sick to your stomach. Sure, only Sylus himself could clear this whole mess up by telling you the truth behind the picture, but you still couldn't stop yourself from assuming the worst.
You didn't hear the door swing open. You didn't hear his heavy footsteps. Your eyes were glued to the screen, the message, the photo...all of it swirling around you like a hurricane. You were frozen to the spot, feeling sick, dizzy, upset...a dozen different emotions that made your head spin.
"Sweetie? What's wrong?"
Your phone slipped from your hand, the clattering of metal against the ground the only sound that filled the room.
Sylus was kneeling in front of you the next second, his fingers closing around your chin. He gently tilted your head up so you were looking at him, his other hand reaching down to pick up your phone.
"Before I look, do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
When you didn't respond, instead shifting your gaze away and rubbing your arm like you were hiding something, he took a look at your phone. And his eyes hardened.
"I get it," you blurted, "Really."
"What?" He looked at you. "You think I-"
"She's gorgeous," you cut him off. "Probably resourceful. She looks powerful and influential. And she's in your line of...work..."
Silas was about to answer, but then you sniffled.
The sound caused his chest to constrict painfully, and he set your phone aside to firmly grasp your hands in his, "Sweetie, look at me." He only carried on once your eyes were on him, "Have I ever lied to you?"
You shook your head, "No..."
"Have I not said you're beautiful enough?"
"You have, but-"
"There you go," he squeezed your hands, reassuring you, "You're so beautiful that if you were put into the night sky, all the stars would look dull in comparison." He lifted your hands to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles. "That woman? She serves under me. You work with me, as my equal. She is nowhere near your level."
"And even if she was, I would choose you in this lifetime and every other."
The minute your shoulders relaxed, Sylus smiled. He got to his feet, pulling you with, his arms snaking around your waist. When you looked up at him, he didn't give you the chance to thank him before his lips were on yours, kissing you so fiercely that your knees buckled. Even then, he held you firmly against his chest, kissing you like he wanted to steal the air from your lungs.
When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide.
"You're even more beautiful when you're flustered," he murmured into your ear, one of his hands sliding up, fingers tangling in your hair as he cradled your head.
Later that day, when you were sleeping, he summoned the twins, handing them your phone - he would replace it, he wanted that picture erased from your mind.
"Find out who sent this. And bring them to me."
CALEB
The new Caleb was shrouded in mystery, so you figured you would be in the dark about the people he surrounded himself with now. It didn't help that he tried his hardest to keep you away from the Fleet, which had the opposite effect.
Because you were stubborn.
Under the guise of simply wanting to give him lunch, you approached the imposing building that towered over Skyhaven.
For someone who was supposedly not allowed near the Fleet, no one bothered you. No one even looked your way twice - one look and they averted their gazes. Some even lowering them. You'd never gotten this reaction from anyone in Linkon before, so you assumed it must have something to do with your beloved Colonel.
Approaching the room you'd been told he was in, your footsteps slowed once you heard a woman's voice - an unfamiliar one.
"-too reckless," she was saying, "I'm worried about you."
You stopped just outside the door, frowning. Of course, you knew the rational thing to do was not jump to conclusions, and confront Caleb about this later. But you didn't feel like being rational today, your blood boiling as you dropped the lunch bag with the food you had so lovingly prepared for him. The voices in the room went quiet, and you turned and made your exit just as the door swung open.
Not hearing Caleb, now irritated, tell the woman to leave him alone.
Caleb had always been obsessed with you - that much you were certain of. His behaviour, his actions, his words...were all an indication of the deep love and devotion he had for you. It was actual obsession, far from being an exaggeration.
So you knew you didn't have anything to worry about. Or rather, you thought you knew. Because his unwillingness to divulge information about the Fleet, his need to keep you far from that part of his life, was now spawning some ugly thoughts in your mind - thoughts you would rather not have to voice out loud.
Caleb got home before you. Somehow.
He was standing a few feet from the front door, waiting. His hand running through his hair nervously, his foot rapidly tapping the ground - a far cry from the cold, stern man who commanded the Farspace Fleet.
Your eyes drifted away, struggling to maintain focus on him. You quietly hung your coat, then made an attempt to walk past him which was instantly stopped by his hard chest.
You didn't feel like looking at him. You didn't feel like hugging him or holding his hand or touching him in any way. You just wanted to get to your room and put some distance between the two of you. Though you knew very well he would never let that happen.
"Caleb, move."
Your voice was shaky, a testament to how emotionally unstable you were. Your eyes remained fixed on the wall, even as you uttered the command, refusing to even glance at his face.
"Pipsqueak, I-"
"I said move," you repeated, voice trembling even more. Your bottom lip was too, though you were trying your hardest to keep your emotions at bay. "I'm tired."
His eyes narrowed, "You came today."
"I did," you finally pushed past him, and he just let you. "Only to find out that you don't need me worrying about you." You laughed humourlessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "You already have someone to do that."
Caleb feels himself dying a little inside at the sight of your tears. Usually he'll chase them away with a stupid joke or by doing something silly to make you laugh, but he knew right now that was not what you needed.
"It's not what you think," he took a step towards you, cautiously, afraid you might back away from him. That thought sent him spiralling into fear that he might lose you.
"Then what is it, Caleb?" You turned to face him, exasperated and upset, "Because you won't tell me anything!"
He remained silent, and you scoffed.
"That's what I thought."
"No, no, no, wait, pipsqueak!" He grabbed your wrist before you could walk away. "She's no one important okay? Actually, she's no one at all."
You crossed your arms, not quite believing him.
"I've..." He sighed, his hand moving from your wrist to intertwine with yours, "I've been working on something. It's, ah, a little embarrassing." His cheeks turned slightly pink. "But I swear, it does not involve any other woman."
"So then what is it?" You asked, tears drying as you became more curious than upset.
His blush darkened, "I may have been...trying to make my virtual assistant speak with your voice...That's why you heard her say that. It was a short clip of a voice note you once left me, but the stupid thing is struggling to incorporate your voice into its system."
Your jaw literally dropped.
"So you're telling me..."
"Yep." From the way he said that, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to laugh.
"Don't laugh!" You whined.
He burst out laughing, "You were jealous of yourself, pipsqueak! Or, well, my virtual assistant that's supposed to sound like you."
"Stop!" You cried, smiling as you covered your burning face with your hands.
He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, "Between the Farspace Fleet and trying to keep up with you, I don't have time to entertain other women, pips. Even if I wanted to, which I definitely do not. So get that out of your mind." He playfully flicked your temple.
You yelped, "Caleb!"
He grinned, "That's for thinking I could ever look at anyone else the way I look at you."
ZAYNE
You never had any reason to question Zayne, or any of his late night shifts. Or any shifts at all. You always waited for him patiently at home, sometimes ending up asleep on the couch or in your shared bed. But you would usually wake up with him there, which made everything okay.
A few minutes in the morning and a few minutes throughout the day were better than nothing at all.
But then the new doctor came into the picture. Or rather, an assistant the hospital had assigned him. A transfer who had, if the nurses were to be believed, specifically asked to work with Doctor Zayne.
She was beautiful, sure, but you weren't intimidated by that. Zayne himself did not care much for looks, and he always made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world anyway. He may be busy, but he never forgot to cherish you.
No, she was intimidating because of how intelligent she was. Being in the same field as your boyfriend, she knew a lot that you didn't. And she took his advice when you didn't (mostly). In fact, she craved his advice, sought it out even. And even though you knew Zayne would never do anything, and that he loved you, keeping your thoughts to yourself and bottling it up just worsened the sting.
You didn't notice your hands shaking until you knocked on his office door, cursing because now he was going to scold you. You stayed up late, and might have consumed one of those energy drinks he'd told you to stay away from.
"Hey, I brought you-" You stopped after opening the door, seeing his assistant doctor sitting across from him. "Oh, sorry, I'll-"
"Come in, (Name)," Zayne's voice softened, as it only ever did for you.
You stepped into the room, but his sharp eyes caught onto your trembling hands before you could even raise the lunch packet.
"Why are your hands shaking?" He frowned.
"I-"
"Did you sleep late again?" He asked, "You had one of those energy drinks."
You cursed the universe, because why did he know you so well?
"I...may have..."
"If I may," the female doctor cut in, which you found a bit rude, "Those energy drinks are incredibly bad for your health. Even just one contains enough acid and caffeine to digestive issues, and-"
"Yeah, thanks," you cut her off, "Didn't know you had a twin, Zayne." You dropped the lunch bag on his desk before swiftly exiting, without letting him speak. For added dramatic effect, you slammed his office door shut behind you.
At home, you slumped into the comforting arms of your couch, your body sinking into the soft cushions like it was trying to swallow you whole. You almost wished it would, just so you could be put out of your misery.
Curled up on the couch, you didn't hear Zayne enter. Nor did you hear his footsteps, too lost in your own world of insecurity and sadness. You didn't even realise you were crying until Zayne tapped your shoulder, and you lifted your head, and something wet rolled down your cheek.
His brows furrowed, "Why are you crying?"
"Are you seriously asking me that?" You snapped at him, then sniffled. "Sorry, I didn't mean...I just..."
"You're worried about my assistant," he concluded, then sat down on the couch next to you. "If it's any consolation, I did not want nor need an assistant. It was...a surprise."
"I know," you wiped your face, only to be stopped by him, and his fingers replaced yours in brushing your tears away.
"Then what is it?" His hand settled on your cheek.
"She's just so...intelligent," you frowned. "And she listens to you better than I do. She even asks for your advice, and I...I always ignore it."
He let out a heavy sigh, but brushed his thumb across your cheek, "I have come to find your ignorance of my advice quite...endearing. It wouldn't be you if you listened to me, right?"
Those words earned a small smile from you, "Yeah."
He nodded, "Exactly. And I want you. No one else. You, with your deplorable sleeping habits, and even worse eating habits. You, with your obliviousness to health risks, and your blatant ignorance of them even after learning-"
"Is there anything good?" You grumbled, but your smile grew anyway.
He chuckled, "Yes. You, with your spontaneous in-office dates, you with your silly pranks that often raise my blood pressure, you with your innocent but wonderful outlook on life." He squeezed your hand. "And most importantly, you, who reminds me to step away and have a little fun now and then. I cannot imagine being with anyone other than you, because I have come to adore everything about you - the good and the bad. And the stressful."
Your face burned, but you let out a soft laugh, "The stressful?"
"As I said, you've raised my blood pressure on many occasions."
You laughed more, "I'm glad to be of service."
He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that he only ever let you see, "I'm glad you feel better. Now that I'm home, let me cook you dinner and we can do whatever you'd like."
"Perfect," you smiled.
643 notes
·
View notes
Note
this isn't a request btw I've read about your caleb crying and sex & i wanna add: you know that tweet that goes "my bf fucks me until I get shy around him again morning after" bc, , the way he spoiled you with pleasure 🤤🤤🤤... is it intentional? unintentional? Doesn't matter. You def see him in a new NEW light (this turned out so much filthier i am so sorry😔 it sounded more intimate inside my head)
Anon first of all, thank you for christening my blog with the first ask 🤲🏽❤️ and it is such a good one too!! Second of all, don't apologize for being filthy bc I am a freak just like caleb and this is a safe space for filthy thoughts about our favorite pixelated man 😌
Idk what drugs you put in this ask, anon, but you caused a sudden burst of inspo and what started out as a few sentences of a reply quickly turned into +1k words…oopsies. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I hope you enjoy this random drabble :)
Caleb x female reader
content: nsfw-ish (no actual depiction of smut but it is heavily referenced), first time with caleb, implied multiple orgasms, overstim mentioned, caleb likes to tease you but lovingly, you both jokingly mimic the sounds each of you made last night

You wake to the smell of eggs and bacon, and it takes you a few minutes to remember where you are and what exactly happened last night. The answer is Skyhaven, in Caleb's bed—and after months of tension between the two of you, you finally wound up fucking each other.
No, that word doesn't accurately sum up everything you experienced last night. It was intimate, intense, and emotional for both of you. It even had its moments of clumsiness and soft laughter as you both navigated this new aspect of your relationship and took turns learning each other’s bodies. But on top of all that, you experienced pleasure like you've never felt before.
You quickly get out of Caleb's warm bed to start your morning routine, wanting to freshen up a bit before meeting him in the kitchen. And for some reason, you start to feel a bit timid as you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You think about last night, how wantonly you moaned as he pulled out all the stops to make you feel good. Your cheeks burn as you remember just how many times you came on his tongue and fingers before he finally gave you his cock—and made you come around it several more times.
Thinking back to it, you can't remember exactly how many times you reached your peak, but Caleb didn't stop until you nearly passed out from exhaustion. And even then, you didn't really want him to stop. In the span of one night, you became addicted to the feeling of him inside you.
So after being faced with the filthy memories of everything you did and said last night—and all the filthy things Caleb groaned in your ear with each deep thrust inside you—it's no surprise you're feeling a little sheepish as you exit the bedroom. The worst part is that you’re sure Caleb immediately notices your shyness as he pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s just like him to give you no escape from his piercing gaze.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your back.
You know it's meant to be an innocent gesture, but your memories of last night only grow stronger as you're reminded of how he couldn't keep his hands off you. And how tightly he held you in place while you wriggled beneath him from overstimulation.
“I made us breakfast. Figured you'd be especially hungry after last night.” You're convinced he's saying that on purpose, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly sexy way of his before he chuckles a bit too smugly.
You smack his shoulder lightly, trying to hide the fact that your face is getting even hotter from his teasing. “Shut up,” you whine in mortification.
But Caleb seems intent on making you squirm. “Oh, c'mon,” he says in a playful drawl before pulling you tighter against his chest. “Are you really that embarrassed by what we did last night?”
His fingers trail feather-light touches up your back and along your neck, purposeful in finding your ticklish spots so he can turn your bashfulness into fits of carefree laughter. Once he's satisfied with you loosening up a bit, he looks down at you seriously.
“You don't regret anything, do you?” You can tell he's trying to keep his tone lighthearted, but there's a glint of fear in those wide eyes of his.
“No, god no,” you say without hesitation. “I don't regret anything.”
You swallow that nervous lump in your throat, still feeling the remnants of embarrassment as you meet his gaze to show him you're serious too. And Caleb’s smile only grows bigger. It’s like you've given him the greatest gift with such a simple answer. He gives you a chaste peck on the lips before pulling back with a different kind of grin—one that says he's back to teasing you now that you've both cleared the air a bit.
“Good,” Caleb replies. “Because I definitely want to hear those cute sounds of yours again.”
Another kiss lands on your warm cheeks, and your brain short-circuits from that suggestive look in his eyes. Still, you manage a scoff at his smug tone. He's already so cocky about his ability to rile you up, and a petty part of you wants to remind him how you weren't the only one being enthusiastically loud last night.
“Oh, yeah? And what about you?” You try to keep your voice steady, even as Caleb continues peppering lazy kisses along your cheeks and down your neck. “I'm pretty sure you were louder than I was.” You lower your voice a register, trying to imitate those broken groans he made when he was close to his climax. “Hm, pip-squeak, you feel so good!”
You barely get through your poor impression before breaking character with a snort. But at least Caleb’s onslaught of wet kisses halts for a moment as he also fails at stifling his laughter.
“Right, right,” he says between a few chuckles. Even though you might be exaggerating a bit with your impression, Caleb’s cheeks and ears still tinge pink with a blush. “Was that before or after you kept beggin’ me”—his voice pitches higher—“oh, Caleb, please please don’t stop.”
You gasp dramatically. “I do not sound like that.”
“You’re right. It’s better when you do it.”
You roll your eyes, only half-annoyed by Caleb mentioning how unabashed you were in voicing your pleasure last night. The other half of you is turned on by his teasing. But that’s only for you to know…for now.
But as always, it’s like he can read your mind right at that moment. Caleb leans closer, taking advantage of your flustered state so he can whisper in your ear. “Maybe you need a reminder of how needy you were for me last night. I don't mind joggin’ your memory, honey.”
Before you can even try to come up with a witty remark, he's pulling away and dragging you to the dining table as if he didn’t just threaten you with a good time.
“Come on,” he says with a knowing grin. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold. And after you're done digesting, maybe I can teach you not to get so antsy every time I touch you.”
You huff as you sit at the table. It’s not fair how easily he gets under your skin with his words and sweet promises. And his promises definitely sound too good to be true. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling shy after getting fucked so thoroughly by Caleb. Will there ever be a day when he doesn’t make your skin burn with so much pent-up desire?
Caleb interrupts your spiraling thoughts, nudging the plate of food toward you. “I can still see those gears turning in your head, makin’ you wonder if there’s still a reason to be shy. Stop worrying so much, pip-squeak,” he scolds you gently. “Or else next time, I'll have to make sure you feel so good that your pretty head can’t think anymore.”
dni banner by @/cafekitsune
584 notes
·
View notes