pretzelwrites

[pretzelwrites]

shot in the dark here, but would anyone want sukugo headcanons? (both sfw and nsfw) they’re one of my favorite rarepairs and i wrote a whole thing yesterday out of nowhere.

[pretzelwrites]

No wonder why this pose is familiar

[pretzelwrites]

[pretzelwrites]

nanami mhm mhm yeah yes mhm mhm

[pretzelwrites]

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION - PT 2 .

summary: following the encounter with caleb in part one, you have a power struggle ending with him taking matters into his own hands once again.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), smut with plot, dubcon, bratty virgin!reader, caleb alternates between being mean as hell and sweet, very sensitive/responsive reader, caleb and reader argue at the beginning, a sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, this is genuine filth, unprotected piv, creampie, praising, implied size difference, lots of pet names, they really don’t give a damn about the plates or grandma’s table apparently, caleb talks you through it, actually caleb doesn’t shut up ever. lots of petnames including gege, pipsqueak, honey, baby, and good girl. use of y/n.

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: biiiig thank you for all the love on part one, and i’m sorry this took awhile to update! 

*if you missed it, you can read part one here.

tags: @mcdepressed290 @petulapetula @sylvieisoffline @boonbyu @kithyyy @kayylebb

caleb left you sitting in your bitter silence to heat up dinner. your thighs are squeezed shut, fists balled up on their softness, huffing and puffing through tight lips. you wanted to curse caleb, beat him, strangle him—  but the memory of his authentic grin quelled your anger each time you tried to condemn him. you hadn’t realized just how much you needed to see that smile until then. 

as the seconds bled into minutes, the air filled with rich smells drifting in from the kitchen. caleb claimed to only be heating up leftovers but you heard chopping, along with the scent of something fresh and earthy. when he returns, he’s expertly balancing multiple dishes: a large leafy salad, braised chicken with eggplant, perfectly steamed rice, dumplings, smashed cucumbers… and even homemade strawberry mochi. 

it was practically a feast of all your favorites. 

“i know you prefer matcha mochi, but it’s too late for caffeine. don’t wantcha up all night...” his words are punctuated by a clink of each dish as they’re placed at the center of the table in an enticing arrangement fit for a magazine spread. if you weren’t so upset, you would’ve been drooling. 

caleb immediately grabbed the empty plate in front of you and began loading it up with food. you watched him with your jaw clenched, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. this was a normal occurrence for the two of you, as bizarre as it seemed in hindsight. you couldn’t remember a time when caleb didn’t prepare your food from start to finish. 

this usually made you feel safe, supported… but now it was just another example of your stolen autonomy and the inherent dominance he had over you. 

“i don’t like eggplant.” you blurted just as the serving spoon hovered over your plate with a heaping amount of it. caleb laughed incredulously, “huh? is that some sort of joke, pipsquea-”

“i said, i. don’t. like. it.” you reiterated much more harshly. you didn’t care that it was obviously a lie, you were just scrambling for a sense of control wherever you could find it. the edges of caleb’s smile tilted downward, and for a beat you expect him to force you into eating it, but the eggplant makes its way onto his plate instead. 

it was hard to tell who’s more at fault for the suffocating atmosphere after he returned to his seat across the table. your hands remain planted on your lap, not even bothering to acknowledge the food despite your growing hunger. meanwhile, caleb was carrying on like everything was normal, devouring his meal with hums of satisfaction. unsurprisingly, he was the one to break the silence. “this may be harsh, but that artist tara loves is sort of a joke to me. he’s one of those guys that just throws paint on a canvas and calls it art. what did you think?”  

silence. 

caleb swallowed a mouthful of chicken before starting up again, this time trying a different angle: flattery wrapped up in nostalgia. “that dessert spot you two chose was delicious. actually, it kinda reminds me of that place we used to visit back home. you remember, don’t you? the one where you got scared by that fluffy white dog, and i had to hold your hand all the way home?” 

more silence. 

this got the point across for caleb— you weren’t just going to let what happened that night be forgotten like he hoped. he placed his chopsticks down on the table and propped his head up against his fist, all while never losing sight of you. 

“…you’re upset with me?” 

“what the hell do you think?” your retort was scathing, delivered through gritted teeth. 

he is visibly taken aback by your outburst, but it doesn’t take long until his irritation morphs into a forced smile. caleb’s long fingers tapped against the table impatiently, as if your disobedience was merely an inconvenient chore that he needed to get over with.

“i did what i had to do. that’s what i always do to protect you.”

the insinuation that any of this was for any reason other than his own selfish desires, was enough to send you over the edge. your plate of food soars across the table, aimed squarely at his head. he doesn’t jump, or even blink, still maintaining that harrowing look while a glass plate topped with hot chicken barrels toward him. your ‘weapon’ of choice hit a barrier just a foot from his face, suspended like a floating mosaic by his evol. 

“fine, you want this to be a bad night? then we can have a bad night.” caleb rose from his chair in a flourish, the plate and food crashing to the table at the same time. only his own food wasn’t contaminated by the broken glass that scattered everywhere. 

shit.

the wet ache between your legs worsened with each step he took towards you. you knew you needed to put an end to this before it escalated beyond something you two could come back from. you couldn’t be ‘inspected’ by him again, or else you’d risk revealing how deeply you desired him. your eyes darted around the room to search for something— an exit, a means of defense— anything to throw a wrench in his plans. 

unfortunately for you, any distance is closed within seconds. in one swift move, caleb pulled you up from your chair by your wrists, hoisting you up in his arms. he carried you back to his seat where you’re placed on his muscled thighs.

“you can be pissed at me all you want, but you’re going to eat a proper meal regardless. you’ve only had alcohol and greasy food since you got here.” he wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction by outright admitting it. your lips pursed into a slim line, resorting to the silent treatment once again. with a small sigh, caleb’s steady hand scoops up a piece of chicken, including eggplant, and brings the food to your lips. 

“open,” he ordered.

that’s it? you thought, he just wants to feed me? 

you turn your head away with your nose lifted in an act of exaggerated disgust. “are you out of it? i already told you, i don’t like-” 

sudden cold firmly captured your chin to turn your face back toward him, forcing you to confront the strictness you knew all too well.

“Y/N, enough.” was all he needed to say to put an end to whatever confidence you had. your pout opened just wide enough for him to slide a mouthful inside. caleb repeats this motion, picking up the leftover food from his plate and feeding it to you bite by bite. the combination of sitting on his lap and being forced to eat would’ve been completely humiliating if not for the way it filled you with warmth. 

after twenty minutes, he stopped. 

“it’s strange, you've never fought me like this before…” he paused to swipe a crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “even when you’re the most disobedient, you usually come around. yet, now it seems like you doubt my ability to guide you.” caleb muttured bitterly, his other hand absentmindedly trailed up your leg, nearing the folded hem of your dress. your mind flooded with rated thoughts, brought on by the lightest of touch. 

“i- huh?” while you were finding it embarrassingly difficult to stay angry and focused on the moment. yet, it didn’t look like he noticed your squirming at all. 

he continued, “you call me your gege, but you expect me to let you do whatever you want even if it’s reckless. i’m supposed to guide you, and i don’t plan to stop just because you’re naive enough to think you know better. if you think you’re going to keep secrets from me and blahblahblah…” his voice faded into nothing. you were far too entranced by the sight of his hand, knowing that those fingers had been inside you in a way no one else’s had. caleb’s hand stalled, snapping you out of your trance. 

“Y/N, are you paying attention?”

“what? n-no, why should i?” you huffed, flicking strands of hair out of your face that got misplaced during the scuffle. once again, caleb’s unrelenting gaze took apart every inch of you until there was nothing left except the truth you refused to admit. 

“you’re throwing a fit because i left you unsatisfied, is that the issue?” your already blushed skin reddened to a fiery red hue as he scrutinized you. 

“…no?”  you said without an ounce of believability. 

a moment of awkward, almost painful, silence descended as the two of you sit in the revelation. caleb’s face betrayed little emotion besides contemplation, and you couldn’t help but worry if you officially crossed the point of no return. 

you’re mentally preparing another poor excuse when caleb’s lips are suddenly pressed against yours for a light, chaste kiss— probing the validity of your words in the most direct manner. you didn’t fight him, you didn’t even give into shock, instead you met his kiss with far more intensity. 

while your eyes are closed, lips still locked together, you can hear the table being cleared with a burst of energy. the plates and dishes fall to the ground with a loud, scattering crash.

caleb’s shirt is discarded on the floor next to your dress and panties in a bundled heap of soft floral print and white. at some point, between him hoisting you onto the table and slotting himself between your legs, he stripped you completely nude and himself shirtless. 

his was a chest you’d seen bare plenty of times in the past, but this wasn’t the same as your friendly trips to the beach or afternoons spent spectating his basketball practice. this was new, far more thrilling and irresistible. unconsciously, you placed your hand on his chest, sliding it down over his muscled abdomen to the whisper of hair peeking out just above the waist of his jeans. this earned a smile from caleb, who found the lustful look in your eye utterly delicious. 

“god, you're perfect.” he murmured under his breath. you’re wide open for him, panting, desperate— your pretty pussy completely vulnerable and begging to be fucked. it was better than any fantasy, any wet dream that he entertained through his years of repression. caleb made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, allowing his length to spring out of its confines. 

water filled your mouth at the sight of his flushed tip, dripping with pre-cum. he slowly slid a hand under your knee, holding open while he slotted his tip between your lips. you inhaled sharply as he smeared his slick over your engorged clit, trailing down your glistening folds, and stopping just outside your entrance. 

even without much pressure against your tightness, you couldn’t help but tense up. he was big, much bigger than you thought he’d be. sharing a house all those years apparently didn’t prepare you for anticipating his size, and you were having doubts. besides, was it really a good idea to lose your virginity to caleb on your grandmother’s table? 

“er, w-wait-” you stammered.

“hm?” caleb stopped but his tip remained pressed against your core, just a centimeter away from penetration. “why, what’s wrong?” 

“i… you’re way too big for my first.” 

“oh, i see...” his grip on your legs loosened ever so slightly, but he still didn’t move. 

“well, it’s like i said before, my role in your life is always to protect you, give you guidance…” he kissed your skin between every other word, starting from your shoulder and traveling up the tender skin of your throat. “sometimes it’s about understanding when to stop-” caleb’s lips just barely graced your’s now, allowing your heavy breaths to intertwine. “and sometimes, it’s about knowing when you need to be brave and push yourself.” your eyes widened in a stroke of recognition of his next move. 

“deep breath, honey.” caleb’s thick member pressed past the tightness of your body slowly, stretching you out inch by inch. his cock was so heavy and warm, you could feel every vein that throbbed inside of you. it felt nothing like your fingers, or his own— no, this stretch bordered on completely overwhelming. his mouth crashes into your’s to muffle your whimpers with his searing kiss, swallowing up your panicked sounds.

“f-fuck, gege-” you hissed against his lips, your delicate features contorting. 

“shh, it’s alright. you’ll get used to it in a minute.” gently, he squeezed the flesh of your hips to encourage you to release some of the tension stored in your inexperienced body. “c’mon, pips, open up for me...” a shudder raced through you, pulling the last bit of energy from your already weakened form. still, you try to do as he said and relax slightly, just enough not to be so taut. your cunt, soaked with far too much arousal and less tension, swallowed him up greedily. his hips shift again while his hands switch to pressing against your legs, allowing him to sink much deeper. 

“good girl,” a low approving hum rumbled in caleb’s throat. he carefully pulled out of you, leaving only the tip. “who would’ve thought you’d get so excited just from one little scolding... don’t tell me you like when i’m rough with you?”

“shut u-uuummphh…” he snapped forward just in time to shut you up, drawing out a ragged moan from the depths of your throat. 

“i guess i’ve got my answer, huh?” your slick created squelching noises with every soft thrust, filling the room with a lewd melody of your pleasure. “when we’d come back home for the holidays, i’d hear you playing with yourself through the wall. back then, i thought you just enjoyed teasing me, but- hah… now i see you get a lil’ dumb when your pussy gets some attention. you probably didn’t even realize how loud you were being, poor thing.” 

caleb repositioned you into the butterfly position, slinging your legs over his shoulders to pound as deep as he wanted. he graces an unfamiliar spongy spot that forces mewls out of you each time. “make sure to breathe, baby…” his voice manages to cut through the deafening buzz of your pleasure and you force yourself to take more controlled breaths. his thrusts slow again, focused on hitting your spot. your legs tremble under his weight, hips bucking but not able to shift away from the sensation. “that’s your sweet spot,” caleb explained, his tongue slipping out to trace along your quivering bottom lip. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“oh my f-fucking god, c-caleb-”

hearing his name on your tongue eliminates any bit of mercy left in him. caleb’s thumb finds your clit, tracing circles at increasing speed aligned with the drive of his hips. your body becomes taut again, rigid from the unfamiliar sensation. but it doesn’t stop him this time, barrelling forward into your walls at an almost brutal pace. you can hear that your cunt is getting wetter, louder, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach feels different than any orgasm you had before.

“w-wait, shiiit! stop, i-i think ‘m gonna explode-”

“i know, i can feel it. go ahead, let go.” 

“but- what if it gets on the t-table?!” 

“gran’s not here to scold us, is she?” he grunted, never stopping his assault on your sensitive spots despite your plea. 

with one more thrust, you feel yourself break. your eyes seek refuge in the back of your head as your orgasm pierces through your body. a surge of essence races out of you, covering caleb’s cock and the antique wood below you with a stream of squirt. it comes in rounds— each time making you convulse a little more harshly. the only reason you didn’t twitch yourself off the table was because the weight of caleb’s body kept you still and wide open for him. 

you look divine, the soft sheen of sweat from your two intertwined bodies giving you a glow as if you were lit from within. your lips parted, crying his name so sweetly, like you’re teetering on the edge of completely losing yourself. “fuck, look at you-” he moaned, lining kisses along your jawline. “you’re so beautiful, even when you’re falling apart on my dick. shit-” you’re suddenly filled to the hilt, his balls tensing against your skin as he erupted deep inside of you. you choked out a whine, back arching up from the table as you tried to process the feeling of being impossibly full like this. rope after rope of hot seed spills from his tip plunged within you, ensuring that your cunt is forced to take every drop no matter how swollen you feel.

after what feels like eternity there, he finally (and reluctantly) pulls out. the two of you are left in the haze of your coupling as you slowly come down from your high. your regrounding is slow, with your body completely fucked out and your thoughts scattered, it’s hard to even open your eyes again.

of course, caleb noticed.

“pipsqueaaak…” he cooed while his fingertips playfully danced on your forehead, calling you back to the present. “you still with me?” 

“…mmm.” your lips curved into a hazy smile, one that looked aloof and unguarded. caleb’s chest swelled with affection. 

he chuckled softly, “good.” 

[pretzelwrites]

CAN YOU PLEASE STOP EXPLODING

[pretzelwrites]

sorry for going mia! i’ve been dealing with health crap that makes focusing difficult so writing is a no-go rn (weeps). but i want to at least update this blog with some small headcanons and whatnot!

[pretzelwrites]

neeeeeeed more of rafayel's. you wrote him sososo well

this means so much to me, thank you!! i definitely plan to write more of raf.

[pretzelwrites]

The ending was confusing asf

which part, babe?

[pretzelwrites]

summary: how rafayel deals with being the other man. 

warnings: spousal cheating, brief nsfw tidbits, a little angsty but mostly scandalous, reader is married to an older man. 

wc: 1k

author’s note: thanks for all the kind comments on sylus's part! here's rafayel's which is way less depressing lmao. admittedly, this is a little rushed and not as fleshed out as i'd want it to be, but it was fun to make.

・❥・ you’re all too used to being nothing more than a pretty fixture in your husband’s life— something beautiful to hang off his arm during swanky functions and keep his bed warm when he’s away. you didn’t even know each other when you got married three years ago. you were paired with him by a matchmaker who saw your pitiful state and decided to ‘help you’ by pitching you to the wealthiest man on her contact list. of course he was also incredibly off-putting, rude, and chased off every other girl she’d offered… but she knew you were desperate enough to tolerate him. 

・❥・ you molded yourself into his ideal wife in order to stay in his good graces and not lose access to everything you managed to gain. all you wanted was a roof over your head, but caviar was certainly a nice plus. 

・❥・ after three years of unsatisfactory presents, your husband commissions rafayel to paint your portrait. this means long hours spent alone with rafayel. raf insists on spending extra time together because “he needs to know his subject.” you’re all too willing to oblige because it gives you the opportunity to leave the castle of solitude that was your home.  

・❥・ in reality, the famous painter wanted you the second you locked eyes at a fancy banquet the year prior. the two of you didn’t even speak as you were busy giving rehearsed laughter to your husband’s business partners, and he was busy avoiding thomas’s pestering. but he didn't need to speak to you, he was already certain that he had to have you by any means necessary.

・❥・ with some crafty networking, his impressive portfolio managed to cross your husband’s desk and the rest was a piece of cake. 

・❥・ talking to one another leads you to venting about your husband over a couple glasses of wine, voicing the grievances you can’t tell anyone else because his name is known in every circle. talking to rafayel is like a sigh of relief— he listens without judgment (or rather, he pretends not to judge) and is so removed that your word will never make it’s way back to your husband. 

・❥・ your tongue is loose, your cheeks intoxicatingly red… rafayel can’t help but be drawn to this version of you, the one that doesn’t care to maintain the aristocratic image you adopted over the course of your marriage and far more concerned with draping yourself over his shoulder. 

・❥・ back in his studio, he takes his time to gently direct you into different poses and expressions as he expertly paints your form. that’s how he gets the first touch— you couldn’t quite understand his directions on how to tilt your face towards the light and not away from it. he rises from where he’s sitting and walks to your side, gently taking a hold of your chin to guide your face where he wants it. 

・❥・ your eyes linger on him a little too long to be nothing, and rafayel easily recognizes the same desire he holds in you. 

・❥・ that simple touch was the start of your affair.

・❥・ rafayel doesn’t care if your husband knows, and actually finds the concept of being the other man pretty hot. of course he wants you to himself, but he also recognizes that you’re in a difficult position. your affair is too new to hold much weight yet, and it’s mostly physical at that point so he’s not overly concerned with monopolizing your time. 

・❥・ surprise video calls, constant texting, audio messages with his way too charming voice, etc. every notification you get fills you with the type of excitement you only used to get when you were a child. you’re practically glued to your phone now, and your husband isn’t around enough to notice it. 

・❥・ the encounters you have stay on your mind for weeks, especially during sex with your husband. you shut your eyes, and you can hear rafayel’s voice so clearly it feels like he’s wrapped in those sheets with you— talking you through it, layering kisses over your skin like he worships you. 

・❥・ there’s more than one time you two were entangled at the same time the chauffeur that your husband sent was knocking on the door to take you back home. all that did was make rafayel cover your mouth while his hips continued to snap forward at a pace that made you drool.  

・❥・ he sends the most mouthwatering artsy nudes ever, sent to you at the worst times imaginable. he pretends to be apologetic that you got the prettiest dick pics ever conceived in the middle of dinner with your in-laws, but it was definitely intentional. 

・❥・ but you don't only talk about sex in your days apart. you often go to him for venting, and soon he begins doing the same. you find that he seems… somewhat lost in his life. despite the critical acclaim and the career that many people dream of, rafayel seeks something… deeper.

・❥・ you discover new things about yourselves, and start teaching one another about life as you know it. you show him your mom's recipe for a rainy day which is just marshmallow fluff and nutella on brioche bread, which he finds far too sweet when he first tries it, but admittedly the recipe brings him comfort when you two can't be together. 

・❥・ in exchange for your recipe, rafayel teaches you how to dance. he starts with bringing your hands in his, and pulling your bodies close enough you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. he guides you through the movements tenderly, his voice low and soft no matter how much you struggle with keeping up. this feels like the most intimate thing you've done yet. 

・❥・ the months go on with your affair completely undetected. rafayel’s feelings towards you have intensified, and he makes it known that he wants you only to himself. in fact, he demands it. you deserve a better life, to know love as it truly exists and not as just a binding legal contract. and, frankly, he deserves better than sharing the woman he loves. he’s passionate as he pleads his case, holding your hand in his while searching your expression for a sign of mutual affection. 

・❥・ he does find the love you hold for him, but the words that fall off your lips are a blatant rejection. you can’t leave your husband— he’s too powerful, you’d have nothing left when he’s done with you. even if you love rafayel with every bit of your heart, you can’t justify leaving. rafayel is furious. he can’t believe you’d rather appease a man you can’t even stand looking at. more than that, it’s a massive blow to his ego that he apparently isn’t enough for you to leave.    

・❥・ after he sends you home, you send him an apology text and block his number… little did you know he had blocked you first. your message remains unsent. 

・❥・ the truth of your relationship comes to light only a few months later when rafayel’s home is broken into. the thieves find countless portraits of you in his archives. he’s painted you in every position, in every outfit, but many were without anything at all. with far too much detail to be innocent, it was clear he had painted them from memory. 

・❥・ the media erupts from the scandal: the famous rafayel’s sordid affair with the tycoon’s wife. 

・❥・ with the secret out, there’s no real reason for you two to continue hiding and rafayel doesn't want to let you weather the media storm alone. 

・❥・ you unblock him once the story hits the news, and just like earlier, he had done the same thing first. you’re immediately met with a message that steals your breath: “if you’re done running from your happiness, meet me at the docks. bring nothing but yourself.” 

[pretzelwrites]

CW: Blood

Priest!Rafayel AU

MC reincarnates into a deity worshipped for her heart. Rafayel is her devout worshipper desperate to prove that his devotion to her goes far beyond everyone else's

aka using LaDs Rafayel as vessel to pour all my Filipino catholic trauma into. I need to romanticize suffering as a treat

[pretzelwrites]

[pretzelwrites]

summary: how sylus deals with being the other man. 

warnings: adultery, brief nsfw tidbits, sylus is kinda miserable in this, reader is a little cruel but not intentionally, sorry this one came out really angsty??? 

wc: 1.2k

author’s note: for some reason this scenario came into my mind sooo clearly for him and raf so here's a drabble on it. raf's is coming up next. 

・❥・ your life could only be described as painfully average.  you marry the man you met in university, who also happened to be your first serious boyfriend. he’s a straightforward, simple guy who just wants a simple life with all the dressings: the picket white fence, suburban home, homemade dinners each night… you try to convince yourself you want the same, but as the years carry on, it’s hard to ignore how unnatural that role is for you. the only time you remember not feeling like you were meddling through life was when you joined the hunter’s association. you had found your calling, one that was far more exciting than the life you lived up to that point. unfortunately for you, the monotony returned when you were assigned to be a temporary officer for a small district in linkon city. that temporary position goes on for much longer than anticipated, much to your displeasure, but what else could you do? 

・❥・after spinning your wheels dealing with weak wanderers and petty crime for months, you’re finally granted a case worth your time: investigating onychinus in the N109 zone.

・❥・the investigation helps facilitate a borderline obsession over finding sylus and bringing him to justice. at first, you convince yourself that this would be your big break, something to prove that all these years spent training would amount to something. perhaps it could even open more doors for you in the association…  

・❥・ but things morph into something unrecognizable. you become drawn to his self-indulgent and exciting lifestyle which was a far cry from your current mundane life. 

・❥・ sylus toys with you about this, knowing that you’re constantly teetering on the edge of giving in to your most carnal desires, repressing yourself to be a “good little wife.” this taunting nickname rolls off his tongue all too often. sometimes you even hear it on your walks home, but it sounds mechanical and hauntingly inhuman… you think you might be losing it.

・❥・he’s very calculated with his approach, encouraging you to engage in increasingly questionable means to capture him. with the erosion of your strict morality, it’s not hard for you to drift farther from the idea of yourself as the pristine wife. 

・❥・your dynamic completely transforms during an interrogation where you suddenly cave, kissing him with the hunger you’d been suppressing all those months. his lips pull into a smug smile before pulling you onto his lap to hold your fidgeting body steady. 

・❥・he lets you set the pace when you become physical, acting as a guiding force to discover what you truly want, and then helps expand your boundaries and experiences. 

・❥・ “can we try this position?” “if you’re flexible enough, sweetie.” 

・❥・ says “if you want it, then take it.” so often you start thinking it’s his catchphrase. 

・❥・ he seems to just… know what you’re craving without you even saying it. the unspoken connection between you is unbelievable, and something you’ve never experienced before. 

・❥・sylus enjoys pushing the envelope when it comes to your husband, always being on the verge of being caught. in other words, he would literally fuck you on that man’s bed. he does NOT care. 

・❥・leaves so many whispers of himself all over your body. teeth marks, light scratches, hickeys, whatever he can plant on you before you swat him away. 

・❥・ the hookups go on for months, and they become more and more addictive each time. eventually you’re coming up with elaborate excuses to explain the weeks you’re spending in the N109 zone. 

・❥・ his home acts as a little getaway from your regular life, and when you come over he doesn’t hesitate to provide you whatever you want. at first it was because he enjoyed luring you in for corruption, but it progressed to him enjoying how your eyes lit up when you held his gifts. no matter how small or pointless they were, you always reacted like he had just given you a reason to live.  

・❥・he wants to find more ways to catch that sparkle in your eye. soon, you two are spending days outside of his home— trying out expensive restaurants and short vacations in new places. 

・❥・ the more time you spend together, the more you fall for who sylus is underneath his reputation. meanwhile, sylus is drawn to how you look at him— a divine blend of strength and innocence that keeps him hooked. 

・❥・ you think it’s simply wishful thinking on your part until you catch sylus staring at you after sex. you’re resting against his chest, eyes almost closed, and just a breath away from sleep. his crimson gaze never leaves your face as you rest peacefully, and even in your partial slumber, you can sense the conflict in his mind. 

・❥・ he intertwines your fingers together and brings your locked hands to his lips. “what have you done to me…” he whispers against your skin, his tone drenched in defeat. somehow, you won a battle you hadn’t even known you’d been fighting. 

・❥・ the investigation you were supposed to be spearheading is technically still ongoing, and he begins to believe that all of this was a long ploy to undermine his work after mephisto finds you talking to one of his former underlings. when he confronts you on this, you’re forced to confess your feelings. you watch as his icy, rigid expression morphs into tenderness while your true feelings stammer out of your lips.  

・❥・ sylus would want you to cut off your husband the second he realizes the feelings are mutual. he approaches the idea straightforwardly, but with enough playfulness it could be mistaken for a joke. “why don’t you make my place your own, then? you’ve already claimed every surface in my bathroom with your hoard of skincare products, why not add your unique touch to the rest of my home as well?”  

・❥・ he wouldn’t show it, but it absolutely does crush him when you refuse. he shrugs it off for the time being, hoping that you will come around to the idea. after all, you’ve been with your husband for years. it’s only natural that you’re not quick to leave him, even if sylus thinks it’s ridiculous. 

・❥・ this affair would go on for a shockingly long time. sylus is so isolated in his line of work, and his feelings for you are so strong, there aren’t many ways he can organically meet others and even if he does… none of them can compare to you. they don’t understand him like you do, they only see his power and money. everytime he is certain that this is the last of it— the last hookup, the last argument, the last text… you go and do something that gives him hope. 

・❥・ the growing tension between you leads to your first breakup… only to end right back up in each other’s arms not even a month later. rinse and repeat. 

・❥・ mephisto and the twins haaaaaate your ass so. damn. much. sylus’s fuse is much shorter when you’re off, and he’s sugary sweet when you’re on. the rollercoaster of emotions impacts everyone in his orbit.

・❥・ even his enemies don’t know if they’re going to get an explosively cruel sylus or a more methodical killer on any given day, which complicates their plans. a select few organizations even keep a pulse on your social media accounts to see when you’re celebrating milestones with your husband, knowing that’s when sylus will be the most unhinged.

・❥・ the N109 zone is damn near silent on the day of your wedding anniversary. mephisto has disappeared somewhere in the night, the twins make themselves extremely scarce to avoid sylus, and everyone else has decided to hunker down until a less volatile day rolls around.

・❥・ the emptiness of his environment is almost suffocating. no amount of music can fill the space enough to distract him from his isolation. sylus can’t stand feeling abandoned, but giving up on you means accepting being permanently alone. for that reason, the idea of closing the chapter on you seems worse than going through this emotional torment for another round. 

・❥・ eventually, if nothing changes, sylus will be the one to finally end it. it will be like hell to him, but cutting off all contact from you is the only way he can be himself again. he doesn’t believe he’ll ever move on, but he hopes he can someday forget how good loving you felt. 

[pretzelwrites]

One nightmare abt lumeria later

[pretzelwrites]

reading discourse about sylus and caleb from the lads fandom outside of tumblr

[pretzelwrites]

the duality of man [🍎]

[pretzelwrites]

It was a headache at first. And then the itching—oh the itching! She clawed at her head relentlessly, to no avail. Something other than relief sprouted beneath her fingertips.

But her pain was soothed instead of scorned, her horns met with kindness instead of a knife.