#Sylus LADS

[boobearymuch]

A Rising Sun

Summary: Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” Tags: Sylus/Reader, gender-neutral, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader is mc, established relationship Word Count: 1.8k A/N: requested by @hrts4hanniehae read on ao3 | masterlist

Crystal clinked loudly against a mahogany table as Sylus put the empty glass down with a seething glare. He would’ve slammed it were it not for your sleeping form just several feet away, however. Your chest rose and fell under his satin sheets, and he counted each breath like a rosary bead; you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. He unstopped a priceless bottle of whiskey and poured himself another drink, but the tremor in his hand sloshed amber liquid over the sides. Sylus huffed but didn’t bother wiping up the mess. Instead, he downed the whiskey in one go and squeezed his tired eyes shut. The burn was nothing compared to the chill down his spine when he found you. 

Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” The begging in his voice grew more obvious as the voicemails went on, “—Please. Just let me know you’re okay.” Sylus drew closer to the hologram, helpless, as Mephisto investigated another possible location, “I can’t…” Another dead end. The mechanical crow cooed softly before swooping into another street, and Sylus heard his voice catch in his throat, “...I can’t feel you anymore.” 

Beep. The call ended, leaving a loaded silence in its wake. 

He considered leaving yet another voicemail when Mephisto turned a sharp corner and pointed his eyes at a dark figure slumped against a wall. No, no, no. His worst fears were realized when the crow perched himself on your knee and cawed loudly, as if scolding you for causing so much trouble. Then his lens panned over the blood. So much blood. Sylus couldn’t recall the ride there, which car he took, how fast he was going. Trivial details, to be frank. Your name was the only thought in his mind, the only language he understood—you, you, you. Sense returned to him when he clutched your limp body in his tight embrace, and you groaned weakly in his arms. “I’m here,” Sylus sighed against your ear, “Always here.” 

The sheets of his bed rustled as you shifted your weight, and Sylus shot you a look. “Sylus,” You called weakly, and winced as you sat up.

“Don’t lean on your arm.” Despite your discomfort, his narrowed gaze remained fixed on the empty glass in his hand. He made no move to approach you, “You’ll disturb the bandages.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you take note of the gauze wrapped around your bicep. The bleeding stopped a while ago. “That wanderer missed your artery by a hair,” Sylus drawled, and your confused gaze met his cold look, “Your luck never ceases to amaze me.” Then he stood, your confusion morphing into panic, “Let Mephisto know if you need anything.”

“Sylus, wait—” You outstretched your hand, the bandaged one, and immediately hissed in pain. Sylus froze, but like before, remained where he stood, “How long have I been out?”

His lip twitched. “Three hours now,” A beat, then he was reaching into his pocket, “Here.” Your phone bounced against the mattress at your feet, and Sylus watched you pick up the shattered screen. Wincing, you turned it on, and he quietly studied your distress.

“I’m sorry,” You began softly, but Sylus forced his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t stand the guilt in your eyes, “I got so caught up I didn’t—”

His raised hand cut you short, “Don’t.” And he turned away sharply, “Just focus on resting.” The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow around, so he grabbed the leftover whiskey and rushed out.

Cooling down with some vinyl records had been his first instinct. Dusting them off, running his fingers over the plastic covers, then finally settling on just one. Fretting over their display was a nervous habit of his, his go-to when he needed a distraction. But it proved too difficult to position the needle correctly with trembling hands, and Sylus watched the needle stutter over the grooves with a grimace. Instrumentals kicked in over the stereo quietly, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out his swirling thoughts. He should be with you right now. Tending to your every need and shushing you gently to get some rest. Instead, he hid away with his records, inhaling and exhaling to relax the tight ball in his chest. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine.

He repeated this useless prayer to himself to prevent other thoughts—darker thoughts—from bubbling up. It didn’t work, though. “Sylus?” His eyes widened at the sound of your voice, before they suddenly narrowed in suspicion. As if on cue, Mephisto breezed to his perch in the corner of the room, and Sylus shot the crow a withering glare. So much for keeping you away from him, damn bird. Mephisto only pricked his feathers innocently in response. Your bare feet then padded across the room, but Sylus refused to turn around. You shouldn’t have to see him like this. “Sylus, would you please look at me?” You insisted again, stronger this time, “Are you angry?”

Usually, he craved your bluntness. Right now, he resented it. “I should have locked him in his cage.” Your steps drew closer, and Sylus concentrated on the spinning vinyl.

Your tired sigh gripped his heart. “I heard your voicemails,” You announced quietly, “It’s…It’s okay if you are. You have every right to be.” 

It’s just so like you to put his feelings first. As if he had been the one bleeding in an alley for hours. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose, “And if I was?” He turned to face you, finally, and noted the half-step you took back. Sylus couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at his lips, “Why aren’t you?”

You frowned at him and rubbed your arm distractedly. “I…feel bad for making you worry. I’m sorry, and I totally understand where you’re coming from.” You then tugged nervously at your clothes, avoiding his sharp gaze, “I would be angry with me too, believe me. Especially after I said I’d be more—”

Sylus couldn’t help it, a humorless laugh erupted from his bitten lips. You only stared in bewilderment as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, “Angry at you…?” He shook his head as another wave of trepidation passed through him, “You misunderstand,” Then his voice fell ominously low, “I’m not angry at you.”

Surprise gripped your expression, “I don’t understand, then. Why are you angry?”

“Why?” It was Sylus’ turn to give you a bewildered look, “Why?” The answer was so obvious, he almost felt ridiculous spelling it out for you. Through gritted teeth, he tried anyway, “Because I failed to protect you, that’s why.” That lump in his throat returned, so he promptly shut up. His words clung to the air for several moments, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off you now. A flurry of emotions overwhelmed you; perhaps you were realizing that, yes, he did fail you tonight. That realization never quite reached your eyes, though. Instead, you slowly shook your head before falling back to get comfortable on his couch. 

“Come sit with me.” You patted the area next to you and watched him expectantly. Sylus stared. You always did find new ways to surprise him, somehow. He fought three wars in his head—before losing them all—and hesitantly took his place by your side. The big, bad Onychinus leader avoided your soft gaze. “What happened tonight, neither of us is to blame.” Your voice fell hush, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you saw right through him, “You can be angry, but please don’t hold a grudge.” You scooted yourself closer to take his hand in yours, and his eyes numbly flicked to your linked fingers. 

“If Mephisto hadn’t found you…I didn’t know what to think.” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed thickly, “Your aether core. I couldn’t feel it.” His thumb caressed yours gently, “Fear like that isn’t easy to forget.”

Guilt brimmed in your eyes again, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “You found me,” You began fiercely, “And I’m okay now, thanks to you. Because of you. You could never fail me.” Your words only deepened his scowl. It should never have gotten to that point in the first place. You should never have been in that position—alone. Your interlocked hands tightened, “Sylus…” Your murmur, spoken like a wish, was accompanied by a sudden warmth between your palms. He inhaled sharply as he watched your hands glow, evols linking as you resonated with his. The feeling was difficult to explain. Resonating with you blanketed him in a warmth like no other, like he was morning dew glowing under the rising sun. Like it was the first and last time he’d ever feel sunlight. You were alive. You were well. And if you harbored any ill will toward him, then resonating wouldn’t have come so naturally to you. He’s glad it did. 

The resonance ended all too soon, however, and the light of your evols dimmed to nothing. Sylus’ record played softly in the silence. “Thank you,” He murmured at last, feeling calm for the first time that evening, “...And I’m sorry.” You made it difficult to stay upset. You had no idea how much power you held over him—over his mind and body alike—how easily you could mold him like putty in your precious hands. Right now, though, you guided those precious hands to his chin and looked him over properly. The dark circles, the disheveled hair, the cracked lips; you drank all of it in and let worry settle in the crease of your brow. He hid his embarrassment behind wisecracks, “Like what you see? A picture might last longer.”

You shot him a look, “You should take a shower, you’ll feel better.” Your expression then softened, and your thumb caressed the side of his smirking mouth, “But hurry, so you can join me in bed.”

He swore he felt traces of your evol smoldering within him, “Easy, kitten, you’re still recovering.”

Amusement sparkled in his ruby eyes when you abruptly pulled away, flustered, “You know what I meant!” Tsk, it was too easy sometimes. Sylus tried and failed to hide his smile before unexpectedly lifting you off the couch, “Sylus—”

“I’ve got you—yes, I do, now stop squirming,” Hanging on with your good arm, Sylus held you tighter than he’d ever done before. Letting you down would never be an option again. “Save the struggling for later, sweetie.” You merely huffed and settled into his secure embrace, but your free hand clutched his shirt just as tightly. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Morning dew, meet rising sun.

[muqingslover]

[ Back again! Did you guys miss me? I sure missed you! As a gift I offer Sylus' NSFW alphabet! I totally forgot about this after Caleb's im so sorry 😞]

A = Aftercare

After sex with Sylus is incredibly soft. He will make sure you don't have to lift a single finger and do everything for you. He will bathe you, dress you and then put you to bed, tucked away safely in his arms.

Sylus likes to talk to you just before you fall asleep. Sometimes about random topics, sometimes about something he has planned for the next day and, for most of the time, about you; The way your hair feels when he plays with it, how cute you look when you snuggle against him and of course, how much he loves you.

B = Bondage

Personally, he prefers bounding you compared to the other way around. Sylus is extremely hands on in the bedroom; Anything that will make it difficult for him to touch you as he wishes is just not ideal.

He will also go to great lengths to make sure the restraints used are custom made to be extra comfortable regardless of how much you struggle against them and won't cause any bruising or tearing on your skin.

C = Crying:

Given the fact Sylus is familiar with BDSM he knows to expect tears during sex. That however won't stop him from making sure they're from genuine pleasure and checking to see if you need a break. Once he is confident there is nothing wrong he actually enjoys knowing you feel so good it's a little overwhelming.

D = Dominance:

Soft dom!Sylus all the way! if you think otherwise then this blog is not for you.

A lot of people mistake doms for the "hardcore alpha daddy" stereotype because of media, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Sylus is a great example of it!

Being the dominant one is not only about what happens in the bedroom; The soft requests for you to take a seat where he points you to, picking out the clothes you wear, cooking your meals, being the only one you trust yourself with after a long day at work— That's all part of the play.

He has no need to degradate, break or physically abuse his partner to show his dominance. Keeping his partner, his sub, happy and satisfied is what's most fulfilling for an actual dom.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I don't think Sylus has had any other partner besides you, but he has done extensive research on romance and sex.

One thing worth highlighting is that the first thing he learned was how to control his strength around you. Sylus didn't want to end up grabbing you too hard or doing something worse while excited so he took a lot of time to make sure he could use just the right amount of strength like second nature.

F = Favorite position:

Mating press. Come on now, you can't deny and say this comes as surprise.

This man also loves, and I mean looooves, when you're on top of him. Cowboy is definitely a favorite of his because then he can push his entire cock inside of you and watch the way you chase after your own pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sylus is serious, but in the incredibly romantic way. He wants the both of you to pay full attention to this special moment and won't crack jokes or anything of the sort.

If you're feeling nervous then he will help you calm down with low, loving praises whispered in your ear and taking everything extra slow.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

For personal reasons only I like to think he has a bit of hair on his carpet. Nothing much, just enough. He simply doesn't overthink about that.

H o w e v e r

He will get that hair waxed (yes, WAXED.) the second his partner mentions any type of dislike or something similar towards it.

I = Impact play:

This will completely depend on his partner. Sylus personally does not enjoy hitting you, but as long as the two of you sit down and you explain to him you truly want it (and will enjoy it) he is willing to indulge you.

He won't do anything extreme, but you can expect him to make you count to fifteen while he smacked your ass with a soft padded tool as punishment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does not masturbate often nor does he truly enjoy it.

Go here for a full explanation.

K = Kissing:

Something very specific he enjoys is the feeling of your tongue against his. His tongue is longer than the average person's so you will struggle to welcome it, but that's just what is so delicious to him.

Sylus will often plant kisses right on the middle of your chest (in between your breasts if you're a lady) and on your stomach (iykyk).

L = Location (favorite places to have sex.)

The bed, though not any bed. It has to be one with a comfortable mattress and a steady headboard.

He also likes to have sex in the shower, holding you up in his arms while your back is pinned against the cold wall.

M = Masochism:

Not a masochist in any way. Sylus does not enjoy being inflicted pain (the same way he does not like to hurt you.)

Biting him and scratching his back is fair game though!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes, group sex, public sex ect— Anything that involves sharing you or showing you to others is an absolutely no.

Making you bleed or burning you, breath play and degradation are also completely off the table.

O = Oral

Sylus is reaaaaally into blowjobs. The way you try and fail to fit his full length inside of your mouth, how the muffled moans that leave your throat feel against his throbbing cock and the teary look on your pretty little face is just what he needs to cum in no time at all.

Naturally he will return to favor anytime you want (or whenever he decides you deserve to "unwind" after a long day.) Sylus is a slow eater. He takes his time when exploring with his tongue, his nose adding such a pleasurable pressure against your hardened clit and feeling how you grow wetter each passing minute as he preps you torturously slow.

P = Patience:

Very much into edging and it's always accompanied by tons of praises, though a few teases will be thrown into the mix from time to time.

He is not trying to ruin or deprive you from your orgasm, Sylus merely wants to watch how absolutely adorable you get when you grow desperate enough to actually beg for it. So desperate that you feel no shame in asking him for exactly what you need and who is he to deny it after you've been so good?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not particularly his thing, but he is always willing to eat you out in between meetings (or have you give him a treat under his desk ;) )

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

A natural risk taker in general though surprisingly traditional once he's comfortable with a routine in the bedroom. Call him a creature of habit if you will.

Not that he's boring— Far from it — He is willing to try new things if you're the one suggesting it, but he knows how to spice things up based on your preferences and moods without needing outside influence.

I think it's worth mentioning BDSM plays commonly include some sort of routine so I also based this on that fact!

S = Sleepy sex:

Morning sex is number one of his absolute favorite things. It feels intimate, as if the two of you are the only people in the whole world and, most importantly, it feels safe.

The feeling of you so pliable and soft in his arms, the raspy and quiet noises from you while he gently works you open for him, how warm you feel around his cock when he slipped inside, the feeling of your back against his broad chest— He could go on for hours about why he loves it so much.

T = Top or bottom:

Stone top! He likes the role of caretaker and the general dominance that comes with it.

U = Underwear:

He prefers when you have nothing on, but if he had to pick then he likes silk! Night slips, robes, his own fancy shirts...ect. The fabric feels nice to touch and it won't irritate your skin even if things get a bit heated.

V = Voyeurism:

Letting others watch you? Absolutely not.

Him watching you masturbate however? Whew, the thought alone has him hot and bothered.

W = Wild card: (A personal headcanon that can be considered unexpected)

I don't know if this is unexpected (probably not if you follow me), but I will put it here because of what I've seen around this fandom.

Sylus likes gentle, loving and slow sex. The "violent", aggressive type is just not who he is nor will he bring it to the bedroom. Playing rough and being aggressive are two completely different things, remember that guys!

X = X-Ray:

I ain't doing this LMFAO sorry pookies dick anatomy is not for me. yk, a dick is a dick. Just know it's BIG.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is not overly high or super low. Sylus is a very "go with the flow" kind of guy for these things; If he sees you're in the mood or knows it's a good day for it then he will initiate something.

Z = Zones (His sensitive spot/s)

The middle of his chest where his scar is.

HIS BACK. Literally anywhere you touch him there just goes straight to his cock. Honorable mentions of his lower back and spine!

[bizarrelovetriangel]

Shadowed Past

[mysweetvalentine1111]

Sylus and mc

[amaraee]

He got a scratch from a kitten.

[suninia]

Not for you!

LADS men x MC/Reader SMAU You accidentally sent a picture of you wearing your newly bought lingerie after coming home from a night out drinking. Safe to say, their reactions had you wishing to be buried 6ft underground. Tags: slightly suggestive *wink wink*, non-established relationship (yet ehe) (still bad at this) Disclaimer: Photos are not mine and will be linked down below ;D

────୨【 Ｘａｖｉｅｒ 】ৎ────

────୨【 Ｚａｙｎｅ 】ৎ────

────୨【 Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ 】ৎ────

────୨【 Ｓｙｌｕｓ 】ৎ────

────୨【 Ｃａｌｅｂ 】ৎ────

Hope u enjoyed it! <3

[simeon-lovergirl]

I JUST

KNOW

THAT GOT HIM

BRICKED

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Turns out that yes, past!Karl, Sylus' birthday is significant. A person that knows Sylus' creator has confirmed as much; "his birthday is a particularly special day" (Please read the whole thing I beg, at least if you're a Sylus main. It makes it so clear how beloved Sylus is by his creators and as such it'll make your day, I promise).

Now as to why Sylus' birthday is significant? Could have several reasons in-game (perhaps even what I speculate above?) But irl April 18th 2023 was the day when the LADS beta test was released in CN.

Which says a lot, doesn't it? They did not pick that date by coincidence. Sylus has been important since day one even if he wasn't seen until July 2024. This just confirms it.

Decided to look up whether April 18th actually has any significance and literally this is the first thing that came up

108th day...

108 ways humans tried to kill him

109th day in leap years

The 109th attempt that succeeded in killing him...

The N109 Zone...

Am I onto something here? Or is this nothing but a coincidence? I don't know. Would for sure be a helluva one if so.

In any case, mind blown.

[tojicide]

ABOUT YOU. ♥︎ SYLUS.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. it was easy to get lost in the whirlwind of your new roles as first-time parents, and somewhere along the way, you nearly forgot about the other titles you held—husband and wife. tonight, that changes. for good.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem!reader, husband + dad!sylus, fluff galore, themes of insecurity, pet names, praise, fondling, oral ( fem. receiving ), soft sex, missionary, unprotected, creampie, aftercare. references to his nightplumes card. loverboy sylus is very prominent in this one. 𝑤𝑐. 5k.

𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. about you — the 1975.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Anticipation and anxiety were two sides of the same coin—at least you think so. 

Your heart pounded against your chest, the sound was a far cry from the peaceful silence that surrounded the extravagant lodge. Only the wind passing through managed to break that found quiet. 

Snowflakes slowly fell from the sky as you stepped out onto the wooden back deck, the brisk breeze threading through your hair in a way that forces a sharp chill down your spine. Goosebumps pricked at your skin, though you quickly cross your arms over your chest to remedy them. 

You were beginning to notice that it was almost too quiet. After all, by this time of night, you were accustomed to only hearing the sounds of your infant’s quiet fussing in between the soft static of the baby monitor. 

This was different. Different because it was the first time you were away from your daughter from the moment she was born, but also because it was the first time you were truly given alone time for yourself. It was a rarity these days, and you weren’t quite sure how to indulge in it. 

However, the quiet, careful sounds of your husband’s footsteps approaching you from behind quickly gave you an idea as to how you could. 

Sylus’s scent served as soothing balm, the rich essense of his cologne accompanied by a smell that was uniquely him wafted through the air around you. 

“Aren’t you cold, sweetie?” he quietly asks you, his hands coming up to run along the bared skin of your arms. 

You briefly glance over your shoulder, covering one of his hands with one of your own. “Hm? No, no… I like the cold.”

The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal you from the elements, though it was a sacrifice worth making in your opinion. It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity nor the time to dress up for any occasion apart from the mock tea parties that your babbling daughter puts on for both your husband and yourself.

“I mean…” your words trail, and you find yourself leaning back into his broad chest. “I know that I’m not exactly dressed for this climate. I just wanted to try and look nice tonight. For you, for this… for… for us.”

His hands smooth over the curve of your elbows as his eyes trace the noticeable bumps that the weather had brought to you. Pressing a longing kiss on the back of your head, he opts to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you even tighter against his chest. “You don’t have to try, sweetie. You look absolutely beautiful no matter what you wear.”

You slowly nod your head, your gaze moving over the vibrant hues of light that emerged from the darkness of the sky. The Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. It was beautiful, casting faint shadows over your conjoined form as the two of you admired the way the hues blend together.

“I know, I just… I don’t know,” you stammer, knowing that your words must sound like a jumble of incomprehensible words. “It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up for anything, since… since you’ve seen me like this.” 

Your temple is warmed up by the press of his lips, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning into it, earning you another peck. “I just… didn’t want you to forget, I guess.”

“Sweetheart.” All you could feel was his hold tighten on you ever so slightly, lowering his head just enough to brush his cheek against the soft skin of your own. “Do you think I’ve forgotten about you?”

For a moment, you were stumped. You weren’t sure how to respond to that question, even though you had inspired it to be asked in the first place. Everything has changed, and motherhood has had impacts on your life that you weren’t initially anticipating. It was tough and unsure at times, yet so rewarding and beautiful. 

Guilt set into your heart. You hadn’t meant to bring down the mood of your getaway before it had truly started, but you knew that the feelings you had needed to be lifted from your chest. Now was as good of a time as any.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, tilting your head to rest it against his. “I just… I’m afraid that we’ve forgotten about each other. That we’ll never be able to be like we were before. I feel like a mess all the time, I am a mess all the time.”

Carefully, Sylus takes a hold of your chin to give himself access to your eyes. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps it was only mere seconds, but you hardly felt the passage of time with those softened red eyes staring into yours and his hand running along your arm. 

“I don’t think that at all,” he states, his voice still soft yet resolute. “Change isn’t a bad thing, sweetie. Not change of this nature. We’re still learning. It’s only natural that we lose our footing for a small while.”

“You don’t think so?” Your question only has a split second to hang in the air before your words cut it off, and the shake of your head solidifies it. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… overthinking.”

“Then I will over explain.” His thumb brushes along the curve of your chin, his softened red eyes taking in the appearance of you with snowflakes in your hair and on your cheeks. “My heart is so full of you that I can no longer call it mine. For that reason alone, you will never be forgotten by me.”

“But…”

Sylus shakes his head, kissing away your worry with a quick peck of his lips. “There are no ‘buts’ here, baby. There is nothing in this world that could ever drive me away from you, from the family that we have created together. Not busyness, not sleep deprivation, not anything.”

Relief must have been the first emotion to cross your features, because it almost immediately brought a hint of a smile to Sylus’s lips. Overthinking was a habit of yours, one that you couldn’t evade no matter how hard you tried. But he was perfect. When was he not?

“Not even me smelling like baby spit up half of the time?” you tentatively ask, a familiar humor lacing your words. 

He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble omitting from his chest. “Has the scent driven you away from me?” 

Your answer is almost immediate. “No.”

Sylus runs his hand over the back of your head, cradling it in his gentle grasp. “Well, there’s your answer.” He pecks your forehead. “Motherhood has looked good on you from the moment our little sweetie started to grow.”

“Little sweetie?” you ask. “That’s new.”

“It’s… something Luke and Kieran came up with. You’re my sweetie, so by default, she is… little sweetie.” A moment later, he clears his throat. “Don’t go telling the twins that I’ve developed a liking for the name. They may begin to venture out into unthinkable territory.”

You raise an eyebrow and faintly muse, “Maybe we can all call you big sweetie.”

He clicks his tongue with a squeeze to your hips. “You’re lucky there aren’t people around for miles, baby. Having that material in the wrong hands could be detrimental.”

Once again, a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. He unwraps his arms to reach for the zipper of his coat, slipping it off his broad frame to drown you in the thick, warm fabric instead. He smiles to himself, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he dips his head just enough for his chin to rest on the crook of your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, your saccharine voice filtering into the soothing ambiance of the winter night. 

He merely shakes his head, turning just enough to press a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “No need to thank me.”

You knew that he’d never accept your thanks, but you felt the need to say it regardless. His reassurance, his way with his words, his selfless gestures that were unending and unconditional—he deserved to hear that. You knew it. 

Tilting your head up, you can’t help but huff out a laugh that turns to condensation in the cool air. “You have snow in your hair, you know.”

Sylus smiles, raising an eyebrow as he lowers his head once more. “Help me.”

And you do just that, raising your hand to shake away some of the pesty fallen snow that had nestled in his silver locks of hair. You were sure that you would have had some too if he wasn’t constantly touching your head.

With that, he places his hands on either side of you on the wooden banister that outlined the luxurious deck. He rests his chin on top of your head, his eyes reflecting the green and purple hues of light that nature put on for the two of you. 

After a long stretch of peace and quiet, you hear the faint sound of scratching in the snow. When you look down, you find Sylus dragging his finger through the fallen snow on the banister to draw two small pictures. 

“What are you drawing?” you ask.

He smiles, kissing your cheek as he reveals the two semi-finished works of art to your gaze. With his pointer finger, he draws two carets on one of the circles. “A mother kitten,” he murmurs, drawing two smaller carets on the tinier circle. “And her baby kitten.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re silly.”

“Silly?” he soon echoes. Evidently, your habit of censoring your language around your daughter has even bled into your conversations with adults. It was a tooth rotting-ly adorable habit you had that Sylus adored. “That’s an interesting way to describe a man in love.”

Your skin tingles in the wake of his fingertips brushing your hair away from your neck, his other hand coming up to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “Oh? What would a better word have been?”

“Hmm…” He kisses your cheek. “Enamored.” He kisses your jaw. “Smitten.” He kisses your neck. “Besotted.” He kisses the curve of your shoulder. “Lovestruck.” 

A hearty laugh consumes you as you inch away from his ticklish kisses, your hand coming up to rest on the back of his head. “Okay, okay!”

He chuckles too, cupping your chin to turn your head to face him once more. “Though I must say, my original verbiage was the most accurate.” His breath was warm and comforting as it found your forehead, and the longing press of his lips followed it. “I am in love. With you, with the life that we created together, with the life that you have given me. Just… in love.”

Your smile is far too wide to hide now, a sight that threatens to bring your husband to his knees, right here on the snowy porch. “I love you too.” And somehow, your words still paled in comparison to the sweetness of your grin, the curve of your lips and the crinkle of your eyes. “Hey… aren’t you cold now?”

Entirely distracted, Sylus buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent that always managed to make his legs feel weak without fail. ���Mm-mm. Not really,” he murmurs, one of his large hands curving around your waist. “Not when I have my beautiful wife to keep me warm.”

There was that damn smile of yours again. So gorgeous, so natural, so… you. If lovesickness could be medically diagnosed, he would be the first known patient without a doubt. It wasn’t until you spoke again that Sylus blinks three times in a row, forcing his eyes to meet yours once again.

“Not really isn’t a total no, though,” you simply say.

His thumb brushes away the few water droplets that the melting snow had left on your cheeks that are warm with a blush he’s sure the cold weather hadn’t produced alone. “In that case, what would be your preferred method of warming us up?”

“Well…” you say with a dreamy sigh, turning around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think I saw a fireplace in the master bedroom when we sat down our suitcases.”

(Correction: Sylus carried and sat the bags down, and you watched with lovestruck eyes as you marveled over how this man could be even more perfect. It honestly worked best that way.)

“I like the way you think, sweetie.” 

In one swift motion, he scoops you up off the deck and carries you to the sliding glass door with one of his arms while his free hand reaches for the door handle. Pulling it open, he walks inside, but he has no clear intent of setting you down.

“Hey,” you say, poking his cheek. “I have two working feet, you know.”

He smiles, kissing your finger while his free hand expertly works at the straps of your heels. One by one, they fall onto the hardwood floor as the two of you make your way to the bedroom.

“I know,” is all he replies with.

“So… why haven’t you set me down?” you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Just because my beautiful woman has two feet doesn’t mean she should be expected to use them,” he murmurs, crouching down to turn on the electric fireplace in the room. “Maybe I enjoy being your in-home transportation service.”

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

He can only nod, peppering a few kisses along your cheek that was now illuminated by the warm lights flickering inside of the fireplace. “It is.”

Sylus takes a seat on the edge of the bed, setting you sideways in his lap as he holds you close to his chest. Your head finds its familiar home on his shoulder, and he tilts his own to lean against yours. 

One of his hands settles on your back while the other runs long strides along your legs, the chilly feeling of his wedding ring gliding along your skin makes your muscles involuntarily tense. 

A nearly silent laugh spilled from his lips, his hand slipping beneath your closed thighs so that the metallic band would warm up. His eyes flit to you, the way your skin glows in the hue that the fire is casting onto the two of you. 

You were a sight for sore eyes. You were so perfect that he was inclined to believe that you could have been a figment of his imagination, a physical embodiment of his deepest desires. But you were here, in his arms. His wife. The mother of his child. 

Every lifetime with you had led him to this moment, and he would do it all over again if it meant that you were his. Because here, in the world that you two created, you were real. You were here. All that he has ever wanted, all that he could ever want—it’s you. 

Tears glossed over his eyes and he hadn’t even noticed. His hand gave your thigh a small squeeze, his head turning just enough to kiss your forehead. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “So are you.” After a beat of silence, you turn in his lap to face him. “I’m warmed up now. Are you?”

He nods with a single jerk of his chin. “I am.”

Shifting around, you move to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his hands settle on your hips. “I think it’s getting too warm in here.”

Sylus chuckles, giving your sides a gentle brush of his thumbs. “Are you suggesting I take you back outside and leave you to the elements? You’ll catch a cold, sweetie. We don’t want that, do we?”

You shake your head with a huff. “No, we don’t. But… there are other ways of cooling off you know.” 

To emphasize your point, your fingers find their way to the buttons of his shirt, slowly and tentatively popping them open one by one. His eyebrows raise, watching your expression as inch after inch of his toned torso is bared to your eyes. 

Curving a hand around your waist, he pinches the ribbon tying your dress together in between his thumb and forefinger. He inches closer—close enough for you to feel his breath on your lips—until he speaks. “Can I?”

Without hesitation, you nod and give him your permission. In turn, he slowly tugs on the fabric, watching the way your dress loosens and how it slowly begins to fall down your shoulders. 

Your eyes meet, and a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth as you notice the rosy hue that crept up onto Sylus’s ears and cheeks. It was something you never got tired of seeing, that blush of his. 

It was almost comical how his eyes lit up the moment your chest was revealed to his hungry gaze, and his fingertips gently brush over the fabric of your bra that covers your nipple. 

“Is this new?” he asks you, giving both of your breasts a firm knead.

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as the straps slowly fall down your arms. “Yeah. You like?”

“I love,” he replies, lowering his head to kiss along the valley of your breasts. A low groan leaves his mouth as his tongue laves over your skin, tasting you for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve missed these, pretty girl.”

His hands work at the clasp of your bra, undoing it in one swift moment before slowly tugging the garment down and off your arms. A sudden gasp leaves you as his lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the pointed peak. 

Your hand snakes up the nape of his neck and into his hair, earning a deep groan from his mouth that vibrated against your skin. You could feel his cock quickly hardening beneath your bottom, the fabric of his slacks doing very little to conceal his more than obvious arousal. 

“Sy,” you whine, your hips instinctively working to grind your clothed sex over his bulge. You needed more, needed to feel him in a way you haven’t in so long. 

His hands latch onto your hips, halting your movements as he presses a faint kiss on your nipple after he releases it. “Don’t squirm,” he states, his voice low and full of command. “I need to take my time with you.”

And you believe him. This far surpassed want for him, this was a need. His need. His tone leaves very little room for argument or doubt, no matter how much you wish it did. Another sound of impatience and need leaves you as he sucks your neglected peak into his mouth, his iron grip still holding you still in his lap. 

In one swift, dizzying motion, he lowers you onto the bed. Your back hits the plush comforter, and he shifts to settle between your legs. He kneels on the mattress, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt that you had begun to remove earlier. 

His hands then pull your dress down your legs, letting the fabric slip onto the floor near the bed. His lips press to your ankle as he looks down at you, his hands mapping out the skin of your thighs and calves as he hoists your legs up until the heels of your feet rest on his shoulders. 

Blinking twice, you feel a heavy sense of anticipation swirling in your lower stomach. You reach out, hooking a finger inside of his belt loop to try and tug him closer. He doesn’t budge. 

“Sylus,” you whine.

He can only grin, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your inner legs—your calves, your knees, your thighs—until he flattens onto his stomach. “I’ve never known you to be so impatient, baby.” 

You huff, tilting your head to the side. “And I’ve never known you to hold out on me.”

Clicking his tongue, he nuzzles his cheek against the warm skin of your inner thigh. “Holding out? No, that can’t be right.” His voice has a teasing lilt, one that would make you want to say something snarky in reply, but his mouth quickly distracts you from the idea. 

His lips leave soft kisses along the damp fabric of your panties, pointing his tongue to leave light kitten licks around your clit. You squirm, but his grip on your hips returns to keep you in place. 

“I’ve left my poor wife so pent up,” he whispers, ending his sentence with an open-mouthed kiss on your cunt. His fingers hook beneath the waistband, tugging them down your legs just enough for them to dangle around your ankles. “It’s only right I pay you a personal visit.”

And you almost scream when his mouth meets your pussy directly, dragging the muscle up and down to gather your slick on his tongue. He groans unabashedly, grasping onto your thighs to yank you even closer to his hungry mouth. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Your hands fly to his hair, hips bucking off the mattress as much as his grip on your thighs would allow them to. Grasping onto his soft silver locks, you nearly lose yourself when he fucks his tongue inside of you. 

“Sylus!” you pant, thighs pressing in on his head as he groans. “I—I can’t—I’m going to...”

Your warning is cut off by yet another whine, one that his groaning brought on. The hot sensations of his mouth and the trembling vibration of his voice stimulates your sensitive pearl, his words limited to coos of “I know, I know” that force you to come with a particularly hard grasp on his hair. 

All the while, he slows his movements, opting to give you faint licks as you come down from the intensity of your orgasm. A sigh of relief leaves your lips, and your smile returns with it. 

Kissing your mound one final time, he crawls up to meet you once more, his forearm bracing his weight as he towers over you. He chuckles as you bring your hand up to wipe away the wetness on his chin, prompting him to capture your wrist and kiss your palm. 

And when your hands then run down his toned torso to reach the belt of his slacks, a strained laugh leaves him. “Ah. Do you still feel that I’m holding out on you, sweetie?” 

“No,” you answer, undoing his belt and popping open the button of his trousers. “I just want to feel you.”

Sylus smiles, his biceps tightening up as he lowers himself just enough to leave a longing kiss on your lips. “I can do that for you, baby.”

As he begins to undress, all you can feel is a ball of nerves settling inside of you. You haven’t been intimate in this way in what felt like years, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. After all, much has changed since the last time and…

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, as if he had noticed the worry set into your beautiful face. “Sweetheart,” he softly whispers to snap you out of your thoughts. “I need you and your beautiful mind to stay with me. Can you do that?”

Sucking in a short breath, you nod your head. “I can do that.”

Kicking away the last of his clothing, he settles in between your parted thighs once more. “Spread your legs a little more for me, there you go.” 

His hands map out the dips and curves of your body, settling back onto his forearm beside your head while the other runs along his aching length. He runs his tip along your folds, gathering your slick for lubricant. And then, he slides his arm beneath your back, holding you firmly against his chest. 

“Hold onto me,” he murmurs, his breath hitching as the head of his cock catches your entrance. You listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His cock slowly nudges inside of you, stretching you open with a sense of familiarity. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts in your wake. He keeps his movements slow and steady, easy rolls of his hips to fuck you long and deep, letting you feel every inch of him. 

“Feeling alright, sweetie?” he asks you, peppering soft, reverent kisses along your jaw and cheek as he begins to find a steady pace. 

You quickly nod, one of your hands delving into his hair. “Yes,” you breathe, clenching around him like a vice. “Feels so good, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I’ve missed you so much, pretty,” he whispers, kissing your skin from your cheek to your jaw to your neck, his plush lips brushing against you in time with each snap of his hips. “You feel so perfect. I love you. I love you so much.”

His mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss, one that was messy and disorganized but undoubtedly perfect. A whirlwind of whimpers and gasps leave the both of you, but the feeling of your thundering heartbeats pounding against your chests is what grounded you both. His hand next to your head strokes over your hair while the other grasps onto your hip. 

“I love you too,” you say against his lips, your nails on his back, holding him impossibly closer to you. 

One of Sylus’s hands shoots up, grasping firmly onto the headboard in an attempt to hold himself back. He needed this to be perfect—for you, his perfect wife who only deserved his best. 

You can feel the way his back muscles contort in the new position, prompting you to grasp onto him even more. “I’m close,” you manage.

His fingertips dig into the wooden frame enough for the sound of splintering to rip through the air, but Sylus pays it no mind. His attention is on you, the softness of your eyes and the parting of your lips. 

And when you clench around him and your sweet sounds fill the air, he knows that holding back is no use. It’s impossible. His pace staggers as he chases his own orgasm. Tensing up inside of you, you feel the way his seed floods inside of your inner channels, filling you up with the proof of his undying love for you.

For a long moment, all you can do is hold each other close. You breathe heavily into each other’s warm skin, exchanging stolen kisses and the smallest of smiles. 

Sylus finally releases the headboard with a huff, prompting you to tilt your head up and look at the damage. A gasp leaves you, your brows furrowing together. “Sylus!”

His eyebrow quirks up as he follows your gaze, finding that he had, in fact, splintered the wood under his vice-like grip. He sucks on his teeth, turning to face you again. “It’s alright. It’s just a… happy accident.” 

“A happy accident?” you echo, watching as he makes his way over to the en suite. “This bed frame probably cost a fortune.”

When he returns, he has a damp cloth in his hand and both of your bath robes. He settles between your legs once more, carefully wiping up the mess that he had made of you. “Mm-hmm. That it did.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

He shrugs, wiping himself clean before disposing of the cloth in the laundry hamper. He then wraps you up in the silken robe, following suit for himself. “Because I bought it just for us, sweetie.”

A gasp of surprise leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he scoops you up into his arms and walks you both towards the kitchen. “You did? But…we’ve never even thought of staying here until now.” 

“When we first started dating, I ensured that the furniture at each of my properties was well equipped to handle two guests,” he states as if it were obvious. “Though now, I should begin the furnishing process again to make plenty of room for three.” 

Your smile widens. “You’re such a softie.”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The following morning, sunlight cut through the maroon curtains that drape over the gaping windows of the bedroom. You rolled over onto your side, only to be met with Sylus’s back. 

Your eyes finally crack open, your fingertips slowly tracing over the scratches that you had left behind last night. Then, you snake a hand around his waist. He places his hand on top of yours to give it a lazy squeeze. 

“Good morning, sweetie,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

“Good morni—”

Your voice was cut off by the sound of Sylus’s cell phone ringing on the bedside table. With a groan, he reaches out, tapping on the pesky green button to answer a call from Luke and Kieran. 

He winces at the sound of their loud and excited voices, rolling onto his back to throw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

“Boss!” their voices cut through the speaker at the same time. “We came up with something that has little sweetie cracking up! Wanna hear it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Watch this, watch this,” Luke says into the receiver as if Sylus could see their escapades through the voice call. “Your mommy is the original sweetie, you are the little sweetie, and you daddy is the…” His voice cuts off for dramatic effect, before it blares through the speaker once again. “Big sweetie!”

You find yourself laughing at the sound of your daughter cracking up over the line, evidently having a great time with Uncle Luke and Uncle Kieran and their jokes that only an infant could find humorous. Sylus glances down at you with a glare, as if he were silently asking you a question.

You shake your head. “What? I didn’t tell them anything.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. not that anyone asked but i’ve been working on my first series on this app and i’m motivated to write for the first time in forever :,) it’s for love and deepspace (of course) and it revolves around caleb. i’m lowkey nervous to post thoooo i might try and get a few beta readers to see if it’s any good. anywho thank you for reading, rb/comment if you enjoyed <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[xinnn6]

the micro-expressions are CRAZY in this scene..

when we pinned him down and asked whether he destroyed the gold coin, his eyes narrowed as if he was hurt by how we don’t trust him.. 😭 the silence and low gasp as if he couldn’t believe that we wouldn't trust him after all we've went through together…

There are other ways to enter the arena. I can guarantee that. I'm being honest. You know that.

the CN dub for the bold part is roughly:

答应的事我会做到。我从来不拿信用开玩笑。你知道的。

if i were to directly translate and interpret it:

i'll do the things i've promised. i never take credibility lightly. you know that.

but for "我从来不拿信用开玩笑", i.e., "i never take credibility lightly", it can also be interpretated as somewhat "i never take promises lightly"... it's almost as if he's reassuring MC / us–that he'll do anything for us 💔 oH MY GOD JUST STAB ME ALREADY

-> JUST NOTE: IM NOT A TRANSLATOR NOR DO I HAVE EXPERIENCE WITH STUDYING NUANCES FOR CHINESE LANGUAGE... but as a Chinese speaker, this is how i will interpret his words 🤓

[kannady]

If you’re still looking for Sylus smut prompts I’ll throw 2 of my favorite tropes out there: ‘But there was only one bed’ and the whole ‘having to pretend were a couple but we don’t actually want to pretend.’ I’ll throw ‘sex pollen’ and ‘strip poker/kitty cards’ in as bonus options. By no means feel free to use any of these, just happy to offer any help to the brainstorming process :)

whiskey and sin

pairing: sylus x fem!reader

summary: you've started to fall for the Leader of Onychinus. but what happens when you remember your tragic past? will the yearning still linger or fade away?

a/n: had the worst possible day ever and there are worse days to come in the next week. so i decided to write as it made me feel so much better. also i found this chinese song that gave me this idea which i decided to merge with the second idea from the req. altho im now noticing i did get a lil sidetracked so it might not be exact. hope you enjoy it, lemme know your thoughts!

genre: nsfw content, smut, sylus smut, public sex, p in v, backshotsy(?) 18+ MDNI.

It started ever since you managed to procure the brooch from Sylus. At first, you started brushing it off as deja vu. What else could it mean? Every time you saw him, talked to him, every accidental touch. You felt like you knew him, yet you’d never seen him before.

Why did everything feel so familiar with him? 

Was it the way he talked? That erotic, deep, velvety voice of his. Like aged whiskey. It screamed confidence and dominance. The voice that never had to be raised because the whole world already kneeled the moment he spoke.

Was it the way he looked at you? Those dark, heavy-lidded eyes that drank in your every detail. The gaze that stripped you off of every piece of clothing and devoured you whole. The brow that raised every time you lied.

Or was it the way he touched you? Fingers lingering just a second too long, enough for you to feel the heat of his skin. His chest grazed your back as he reached for something behind you. That traitorous hitch in your breath. 

It was getting unbearable with every passing moment. Yes, he was, indeed, a very good-looking man. Sexy, handsome. Beautiful.  Obviously, you were attracted to him. You’d never denied that. And now, perhaps, that was getting to you. 

Getting your hands on the brooch wasn’t easy. You needed to attend the auction and Sylus was your only safe way of getting there. As much as you wanted to avoid him, you couldn’t. Sharing the same space with him made it impossible to deny your feelings for him. You were absolutely not falling for him. But you wanted him. In ways you couldn't explain or comprehend for that matter. Was he perhaps drugging you?

There were still a few days left for the auction. Sylus was nowhere to be found. The twins, too, left you in the company of solitude. There’s only so much one can do alone in a huge mansion. As boredom kicked in, you crept out of your room, wary of Mephisto. You didn’t want him spying on you. Walking down the corridor, you came across a hall. No doors, just paintings adorned on the walls. 

Taking slow and measured steps, you carefully observed each painting. Some of them were landscapes, others abstract paintings that you never really understood. Studying each piece, a particular painting caught your eye. It captured a vast and endless field cradled with rolling hills. Flowers as crimson as fresh blood were blooming in abundance. Captivated by its allure, you couldn’t help but stare in awe for who knew how long.

Your lips moved before you brain caught on, “Tarus City.”

The place looked familiar as if it were etched in the depths of your memories. You’d never been there before, you didn’t know anybody who had, so what was it? The unease lingered on till you went to bed. You didn’t know if Sylus was back yet, but you didn’t want to go find out. What if he saw you? The newfound emotions were already plaguing your thoughts and mind, and now this. It was almost impossible to lie to Sylus. 

So you lay in bed immersed in thoughts, waiting for sleep to come pouring in and save you from this agony. Lately it felt as if sleeping was the only peace of mind you were spared with. 

After what felt like an eternity, the D-day dawned. To your surprise, Sylus had already prepared the perfect attire for you. A maroon dress that dripped like crushed rubies against your skin with a plunging neckline and delicate strap sleeves. The high slit teased glimpses of your toned thigh with every step. Paired with elegant black stiletto heels that clicked like a loaded gun on marble floors.

Maroon. It was his colour. Wearing that dress made you strangely ecstatic. It felt like he was making his claim on you. With what you’d been feeling the last couple days, this was nothing short of torture. You didn’t know how he felt. Hell, did he even feel anything at all? But these little gestures just confused you.

The evening was, so far, uneventful. You’d brought protocores for ridiculously high prices. Mostly because Sylus didn’t want to seem “broke” and also because you wanted to get a reaction out of him, but that turned out to be quite futile. Turned out, using his money only fueled his ego. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Sylus invited you to the dance floor, to which you couldn’t say no. Neither did you want to nor you could because you needed to know where the aether core was. 

Sylus extended his hand, which you gladly took. The moment he held your hand in his, he raised it up to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on your fingers. His lips lingered on your fingers for just a moment longer, but he never broke eye contact. Had his eyes left yours at all that evening? 

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

Why’d he have to be fucking handsome? He was making it very difficult for you to focus on anything, but him. Lately, he had infiltrated your mind like an infectious virus. You smelled him everywhere around the house. Warm Leather and amber. When he was around, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. When he wasn’t, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. What was wrong with you?

As he twirled you in his arms, you felt heat prickling your body. Black scales and horn, red markings all over his chest, his heart… It was Sylus. But why was he dying? You held him in your arms, tightly embracing him as he breathed his last.

In a fleeting moment, that flashback ended. You felt Sylus’s warm hand on the small of your back, while the other one held yours and guided you along the floor.

“You’re thinking too loud, sweetie.”

You looked up at him. The crimson eyes, smug expression, chiseled features. You’re sure it was him. Was this why all the occurrences started the moment you met him? You’d known him in your past life. You’d killed him, hadn’t you?

“Are you okay, (reader)?”

“Stayrus.”

That seemed to have had quite the effect on him. Hands still lingering on your body, he stopped. His expression changed and for the first time, it was readable. His brows were slightly creased and raised. His eyes appeared crestfallen. They were glassy. He opened his lips to speak, but stopped. His voice betrayed him.

What did ‘Stayrus’ mean and why did it have that effect on him?

By now, you two were the only ones not swaying to the music playing, everything forgotten, just staring into the depths of each other's eyes. Slowly retreating from his embrace, you took a few steps back and quietly retired from the dance floor.

You never believed in past lives and all the fate and destiny crap, but this was different. You were falling for someone you hardly knew, but felt like you’d known him forever. As you took quick steps out of the facility, cold air brushed past your face. Warm tears were prickling down your cheeks. 

You couldn’t explain it any more than the fact that you were devastated. You’d killed Sylus in your previous life, but why did it matter now? He was right there in front of you. But maybe you never changed. Maybe you’d kill him again if he didn’t step back. 

The cold night air bit at your skin as you stumbled forward, heels clicking unevenly against the pavement. You needed distance. Needed to breathe. But before you could take another step, a firm hand closed around your wrist.

You were yanked backward, your back colliding with a solid chest. The scent of warm leather and amber flooded your senses, and your stomach twisted. Sylus.

"Running away, kitten?" His voice was low, but the usual smugness was gone. Stripped raw.

You wrenched yourself free, whirling to face him. His crimson eyes were darker now, brows drawn together, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. The sight of him so visibly unsettled only made the ache in your chest worse.

"Stay away from me," you choked out, voice cracking.

His expression flickered. "Talk to me."

"No." You took a step back, hands shaking. "You don’t get to– to look at me like that. Not after what I–" A sob ripped through you, hot tears spilling over. "I killed you." The words were a whisper, a confession.

Sylus went utterly still.

The silence between you was suffocating. You could see it now. The way his throat worked, the way his fingers flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for you. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. "You remember."

It wasn’t a question.

You shook your head, nails digging into your palms. "Flashes. Just enough to know I held you while you died. Enough to know it was my fault." Your breath hitched. "And now you’re here, and I—" You pressed your palms  into your eyes, as if you could push the images away. "I don’t understand. Why aren’t you angry? Why do you keep touching me, looking at me like–"

"Like what?" He took a step closer, and you stumbled back.

"Like you want me!" The admission tore free, ragged and desperate. "After everything, how can you even stand to be near me?"

Sylus exhaled sharply, something unreadable flashing across his face. Then, slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between you. His hands came up, cradling your face, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t realized were still falling.

"Because I do want you," he murmured, voice like gravel. "Then. Now. In every damn lifetime."

You froze.

His next words were quieter, almost vulnerable. "You think I don’t remember too?"

Your heart stopped.

His words seared into you, branding your soul. Then. Now. In every damn lifetime.

You didn’t have time to process them, you couldn’t, not when his hands were on your face, his breath warm against your lips, his eyes holding yours with a possessiveness that made your knees weak.

"Prove it," you whispered, the challenge trembling between you.

Sylus’s mouth crashed into yours before the last syllable faded.

It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that was lined with desperation, his tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until you gasped, and then he was deeper, tasting you like a man starved. One hand fisted in your hair, angling your head back, while the other gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every hard plane of his body, the way his heartbeat thundered against your chest.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers tangling in the silk of his hair, nails scraping his scalp. He growled. A low, primal sound that vibrated through you and suddenly you were being walked backward until your spine hit the cold stone wall of the facility.

Sylus didn’t break the kiss.

He devoured you.

His teeth nipped at your lower lip, his tongue licking into your mouth in slow, filthy strokes that had your thighs clenching. The hand in your hair tightened, just shy of pain, while the other slid down to grip your thigh, hiking your leg around his hip. The maroon dress rode up, the slit exposing your skin to the cold air, but all you could focus on was the heat of him. The way his fingers dug into your flesh like he wanted bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

"Mine," he rasped against your lips, voice wrecked.

You whimpered, arching into him, your nails dragging down the back of his neck. "Yours."

The admission shattered whatever restraint he had left. His mouth slanted over yours again, harder, deeper, his hips grinding against you in a way that made your breath hitch. You could feel him, all of him, hard and throbbing through the layers of fabric. The friction was maddening, not enough, and you rocked against him with a broken sound.

Sylus tore his mouth from yours, his breath ragged. "Look at me."

You forced your eyes open, your vision hazy with desire.

His pupils were blown, his lips swollen from your kisses, his chest rising and falling as unevenly as yours. For the first time, the mask of control was gone, replaced by something raw, needy.

"Say it again," he demanded, thumb brushing your kiss-slick bottom lip.

You didn’t hesitate. "Yours."

His groan was your reward before his lips found yours once more, sealing the desire between. Desire that tasted like whiskey, like sin.

His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin just below your ear. You gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth found the column of your throat.

"Sylus–"

His response was a low hum against your pulse, the vibration making your knees weak. Then his tongue flicked over the spot. Once, twice, before his teeth sank in.

You cried out, arching against him, the sharp sting melting into your skin as he sucked, hard enough to mark you. His hand slid from your thigh to grip your hip, holding you in place as he worked another mark just above your collarbone.

"Mine," he murmured against your skin.

A shudder ran through you, but the distant murmur of voices from the auction hall had your breath hitching. "W-what if someone sees us?" you whispered, even as your body betrayed you, pressing closer.

Sylus chuckled, the sound rough with desire. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his thumb brushing over the fresh bruise he’d left. "Let them."

Then his mouth was on you again, licking into the hollow of your throat as his free hand slipped beneath the slit of your dress, fingers skating up your bare thigh. Your moan was loud, too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when his touch burned through you like this, not when every drag of his lips made your thoughts scatter.

"You taste so fucking good," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "And you’re all mine tonight."

You whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as his fingers teased higher, his breath hot against your ear. 

"Now tell me, do you want someone to see us?"

The question was a trap, but you were too far gone to resist.

"No," you breathed.

His teeth grazed your neck in warning.

"Liar."

The word was a growl against your skin, rough with possession, as Sylus's fingers found the zipper of your dress. The sound of it sliding down was obscenely loud in the quiet of the night, the fabric parting like a sigh beneath his touch. Cool air brushed over your exposed back, but his hands were fire, skimming up your spine before pushing the straps off your shoulders.

The dress pooled at your waist.

His breath hitched. "Fuck."

The hunger in his voice sent a shudder through you, your nipples hardening under his gaze. He didn't touch you, not yet. Just stared, his crimson eyes darkening as he took in the way your chest rose with each ragged breath.

Then his hands were on you, rough and demanding, cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, maddening circles. You whimpered, arching into his touch, but he tsked,

pinching lightly.

"Patience, kitten."

You didn't have any left.

His mouth was on you before you could protest, lips closing around one peaked nipple, tongue swirling in a way that had your knees buckling. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked, hard, the sharp pleasure-pain making your hips jerk. His free hand palmed your other breast, squeezing just shy of too much, and you melted, a moan spilling from your lips.

"Sylus-!"

He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on your other breast, his teeth scraping over the sensitive nipple before soothing it with his tongue. You were panting now, your skin flushed, your core aching with every flick of his tongue.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Your hands slid down his chest, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He groaned against your skin, hips jerking forward as you palmed him through his jeans. God, he was huge, already hard and straining against the fabric.

"Fuck," he hissed, pulling back just enough to watch you. "Look at you, greedy little thing."

You didn't care. You were greedy. For him. For this.

You popped the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with trembling fingers. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, and you moaned at the feel of him, the way his pulse jumped under your touch.

Sylus's breath came out in a sharp exhale, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Stroke me.”

You obeyed, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, thumb swiping over the bead of precum at his tip. His groan was filthy, his hips thrusting into your grip as you worked him, slow and teasing.

"Fuck– Faster."

You sped up, squeezing just the way you knew he liked, (how did you know that?), and his head fell back, a string of curses falling from his lips.

But then his hand closed over yours, stilling your movements.

"Enough."

Before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing your chest against the cold stone wall. His body covered yours, his cock nestled against the curve of your ass as his hands slid down your sides, pushing your dress up around your waist.

"You're dripping," he murmured, dragging a finger through your folds. You gasped at the contact, your hips rocking back against him.

"Please–"

"Please what?" His breath was hot against your ear as he teased your entrance, circling but not pushing in.

You whined, desperate. "Fuck me."

He chuckled, low and dark. "Since you asked so nicely." And then he was inside you, filling you in one brutal thrust. You screamed.

He was everywhere, stretching you, ruining you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision white out. You clawed at the wall, but his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, forcing you to take every inch.

"So fucking tight," he growled, his hips snapping forward. "So perfect for me.”

You couldn't speak, couldn't think, not with the way he was pounding into you, each thrust dragging against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars. His free hand slipped around your hip, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you shaking.

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. "Now."

You shattered.

Your orgasm ripped through you like a wildfire, your body clamping down around him as you screamed his name. He fucked you through it, his pace never faltering, his own release building with every snap of his hips.

"Mine," he snarled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he came, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you up.

You collapsed against the wall, boneless, his body heavy against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.

His lips brushed your ear.

"And don't you ever forget it, kitten."

tags: @plzdonutpercieveme

[paninisstuff]

Pfft--

what happens when sylus meets your possessive boy cat for the first time?

(sylus x reader) humour, fluff, possessive and petty sylus, suggestive

It started with you dragging Sylus to the grocery store.

He had shown up that morning in a dark maroon button-down with the sleeves rolled up, hair perfectly tousled, ready to whisk you off somewhere expensive and mood-lit. But when you met him at the door with a shopping list and a cheerful smile, he blinked at the paper in your hands like you’d just handed him an arrest warrant.

“You’re telling me,” he drawled, arms crossing as he leaned against the doorway, “that instead of letting me take you on a proper date, you want me to follow you around a fluorescent-lit store while we argue about produce?”

“Yes,” you grinned, pressing the list to his chest. “Consider it a bonding experience.”

He sighed. “Kitten, you know I could get all this delivered. Snap of my fingers. Why suffer?”

But you just grabbed his hand and brushed your thumb along his knuckles. “Because I want to do it with you.”

He stared at you for a long second, then let out that deep, rich laugh that you love so much under his breath, kissed your temple, and let you tug him along. “Alright, sweetie. Anything you want.”

Hours later, you finally stepped into your apartment, grocery bags in hand and the scent of fresh bakery bread trailing behind you.

Sylus followed in behind, setting down a few bags with a sigh. “That was not romantic,” he muttered, brushing away a rogue piece of lettuce from his shirt. “An old lady threw a head of lettuce at me. Why was I not aware that grocery shopping was equivalent to war?”

“It’s discount day today, she’s just doing what’s right,” you said, hiding your smile as you unpacked the fridge items. Sylus chuckled and was already helping you organise the groceries into their respective shelves. You shooed him away after a while, telling him to rest (you didn’t want him to mess up your organisation system).

As Sylus wandered into your home, he took in everything as if he were seeing your place for the first time. Sylus had technically been here before, but back then it had been late, the lights were off, and your front door had barely closed before things turned into a blur of kisses and discarded clothes. But now? Now he was really seeing it. The sun touched everything like it was showing off: your plants, your quirky fridge magnets, the soft pillows arranged just how you liked them. Sylus was quiet as he looked around. Reverent, almost. Like he was memorising it.

He ran a hand along your bookshelf. Paused by the photos on your console. Touched the mug with your chipped initials. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Once the last can of soup was stacked and you’d wiped your hands on a towel, you called out, “Sylus—here.” You offered him a glass of water. He took it, his fingers brushing over yours just a little longer than necessary, then set it aside after a sip.

And that’s when you noticed the shift.

He stepped in closer. One hand came to rest beside your hip on the counter. Then the other. And just like that, he’d caged you in–his arms on either side, his tall frame looming close, dark eyes simmering with something slower, warmer. His body heat pressed in, his eyes dark and glinting.

“I was very patient today,” he murmured, voice low, lips brushing your ear.

“Barely,” you whispered back, trying not to smile.

He leaned in, grazing your jaw with his mouth, his tone slipping into a dangerous purr. “You know,” he murmured, voice velvet-smooth, his breath fanning over your jaw, “I behaved all day. Didn’t cause trouble. Didn’t threaten anyone. Didn’t even bite you in the spice aisle. I deserve something sweet now, don’t I?”

Your breath caught.

Then he kissed you. Deep, slow, curling warmth that stole the air from your lungs and made your fingers tighten in his shirt. The kiss grew hotter, his hand finding your waist, yours sliding up his chest. His body pressed against yours, caging you between him and the counter.

His hands were slowly tugging the waistband of your jeans when—

THUMP.

Something heavy collided with Sylus’s feet.

“Wh–What the?!”

Startled, he stumbled back a step. His shoulder bumped the cabinet. Staring up at him with the rage of a thousand suns was a massive, fluffy orange cat. Tail puffed like a warning flare, blue eyes narrowed in betrayal. The cat let out a low, judgmental mrroooww and hissed at Sylus.

Sylus blinked in confusion and shock as you bit back a laugh. Sylus turned his gaze towards you, but you were already leaning down, your voice sweet as you called the cat over,  “Hi Pumpkin, come here.”

Immediately, the snarling little menace transformed into a puddle of affection. He padded over like a lovesick marshmallow, weaving through your legs and purring so hard it vibrated the floor.

Sylus stared in disbelief.

You crouched to scoop him up, and Pumpkin climbed willingly into your arms, nuzzling his head under your chin. He made a little chirrup noise, then reached forward and gently booped his nose against yours.

“I missed you, baby.” You muttered as you nuzzled your face into Pumpkin’s fur.

Sylus gaped. “He tried to kill me and you’re rewarding him?”

You just smiled. “He’s just protective.”

Pumpkin blinked at Sylus from the safety of your arms, smug and purring like a motorcycle.

Sylus narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t the jealous type—really, he wasn’t—but something in his chest was rumbling. Maybe it was his dragon instincts. Maybe it was the sheer audacity of that cat. It’s fine. It’s not like that little terror–Pumpkin was it? –would do much. He’ll just take the hisses and glares and ignore it, like the calm and composed man he is. Right?

It started small.

You were sitting on the couch, Pumpkin curled on your lap as Sylus went to sit besides you. Sylus gestured vaguely toward the cat, then to you. “Wait, sweetie. How have I never seen him before? This is not a small animal. He looks like he could eat three sets of Mephistos.”

“He was at the vet,” you explained, stroking between Pumpkin’s ears. “Check-up. He stayed overnight for observation.”

“Ah.” Sylus narrowed his eyes. “So I didn’t dream this demon into existence.”

You shook your head, cheeks warming. “Nope. Very real. Just… not around that night.”

There was a beat of silence before Sylus smirked, his tone turning deliberately low. “Right. That night.”

You stiffened slightly, cheeks flaring redder. Sylus stepped closer again, his smirk deepening as he leaned in just enough to brush a knuckle under your chin.

“That night…” Sylus echoed, voice thick with amusement. “The one where we didn’t even make it past your hallway. You were practically tearing my shirt off, kitten.” Your face flushed instantly, and you looked away, flustered. Sylus grinned, closing the distance, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

He didn’t get any further.

A low growl interrupted the moment.

Pumpkin—who had apparently been napping with one eye open—shot up, tail flicking, pupils dilated. Sylus instinctively backed off just as the orange menace prepared to pounce.

“Down, soldier,” he muttered under his breath.

You scooped Pumpkin into your arms just in time, cooing softly, “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

Sylus’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You're comforting him?”

You pressed a kiss to Pumpkin’s furry head, entirely unbothered. “He gets jumpy when he senses a threat.” Sylus narrowed his eyes. “I’m the threat?”

Pumpkin blinked slowly at him, clearly unrepentant. Sylus scoffed. “Unbelievable. I’ve fought trained assassins who were more welcoming.”

There were more moments like that. Too many, in Sylus’s opinion.

He’d try to slide his arms around you while you cooked—nothing scandalous, just a soft back hug, maybe a kiss to your neck—and BAM. Pumpkin appeared, claws out and hissing like a snake. During dinner, Sylus brushed his fingers along your thigh under the table, only for a furry missile to launch itself between you, knocking over a water glass in the process.

Movie night? Forget it. Sylus would settle in beside you, finally thinking he’d earned a moment of peace, only for Pumpkin to leap up, stare him dead in the eyes, and then physically wedge his fluffy body between you two with the weight and determination of a Wanderer. Hell, a Wanderer was easier to handle than this.

Sylus was patient. Until he decided he’d had enough.

It was the end of the night, you were headed to bed, and he was right behind you like a man on a mission. The moment you stepped into the bedroom, Sylus kicked the door shut and locked it with such speed and finality, you almost laughed—until you saw the look in his eyes. Dark. Heated. Done with being polite.

As you crawled under the sheets, he joined you instantly, curling around you like he belonged there. His hand rested on your waist, fingers flexing slightly as he inhaled your scent. Soft, warm, yours. All the missed opportunities from the day simmered to the surface. Every time he’d reached for you, only to be clawed or glared at by a fuzzy orange menace.

His lips brushed the back of your neck. “Now,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous, “where were we?”

His mouth found your skin again, trailing hot, slow kisses down your shoulder. You shivered, your breath catching—

And then.

“MRRRROWWWW!”

A banshee wail echoed through the apartment. Followed by frantic pawing. Sharp. Desperate. Unrelenting. Like someone was trying to break into the room with pure willpower and toe beans.

Sylus cursed under his breath. You sighed and offered a sheepish smile as you turned your head over your shoulder. “Pumpkin always sleeps on the bed…”

Sylus stared at you, slack-jawed, like you’d just told him that you were going to break up with him.

“Of course he does,” he said flatly, rolling onto his back and dragging a hand down his face. “Of course he wants to sleep in this bed with you.”

There was another insistent thump against the door. You giggled as you slipped out of bed to open the door. Pumpkin strutted in like a king returning to his throne, hopped up, and promptly curled between the two of you. Sylus stared at him, utterly betrayed. “…This is war.”

As you slept soundly with Pumpkin curled up with you, Sylus was seething. He wasn’t going to lose you to a thirty-pound fluffball with abandonment issues and a superiority complex. Not like this.

Something had to be done.

And that’s how, one week later, your bedroom door slammed open and Sylus marched in like a man possessed—carrying a sleek, regal-looking Bengal cat in a luxury pet carrier.

You blinked. “Sylus… what is that?”

He set the carrier down like it was sacred cargo, his voice resolute. “Your cat declared war. I’m giving him… a distraction.”

Sylus had brought a girlfriend for your cat.

And that’s also how, later that night, with Pumpkin and his newlady friend preoccupied in the living room—curious meows and soft purring barely audible through the closed door—you finally ended up exactly where Sylus wanted you: writhing under him, his name a breathless chant on your lips.

The cats purred. But in your bedroom, Sylus growled—low and possessive—as he claimed every inch of you, reminding you who’d truly won tonight—one heated kiss, one desperate moan at a time.

His lips trailed fire down your neck, his hands greedy with every inch of you he’d been denied for far too long. The bedroom was dim, warm, breathless.

Outside, the cats got acquainted.

Inside, Sylus made sure you only remembered his name.

His mouth brushed your ear, voice like velvet and fire.

“No more interruptions, kitten. Tonight, you’re mine—every. last. inch.”

[hoe-in-deepspace]

SYLUS YOU SWEET CUTIE PATOOTIE OF A MAN I LOVE YOU 🥺🥺🥺

[cosmiic-world]

sylus when he takes you on joyrides in the N109 Zone, he absolutely loves when you dress in bike leathers and he loves when you’re matching him.

sylus who loves how your smaller frame hugs his from behind, the side of your helmet flush against his back as you giggle from the speeds and scenery you’re zooming past.

sylus who loves teasing you at red lights, reaching back and gently squeezing your thighs. “are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, chuckling when he’s met with an ecstatic nod and a thumbs up. he loves to catch you off guard with suddenly taking off, relishing in how you squeal and scramble to hold onto him, laughing as you whine.

sylus who stares at you as you get off the bike, setting your helmet down right beside him. he watches as you rummage through your purse with a small frustrated pout. “what’s wrong sweetie?”

“i don’t have my mirror.” you said, huffing as you held your lipstick in your hand.

sylus who turns and right as he’s about to offer one of the mirrors from his bike, you grab his helmet and turn his head toward you. “hold still for one second.” he thinks he hears but all he can focus on is that vibrant red lipstick in your hand and that look in your eyes.

your eyes turned sharp as you focused intently on the reflection in sylus’s helmet, ignoring his ruby eyes staring at yours. you focused as you applied your lipstick nice and slow, so you wouldn’t mess up. somehow, your bottom lip was smudged a bit and you hadn’t noticed until sylus grabbed your arm as you were turning away from him.

“just a second, kitten.” he said gruffly, pulling you closer to him, his thighs caging you in as he brought up his hand to gently wipe away the smudged lipstick from your lip. “this shade looks magnificent on you.” he said softly, his eyes filled with lust. “put your helmet back on.” he said, handing you your helmet.

“what, why?” you said as you grabbed it, tilting your head confused.

“sweetie, surely that wasn’t just for fixing your lipstick. i have a problem now that only you can fix. we’re going to the parking lot.” he said, slinging his leg back over the motorcycle and turning the engine back on.

you couldn’t help but giggle as you put your helmet back on and sat right behind him. your touch felt like fire blazing against his skin, turning him on even more as your hands teasingly found their way down his pants.

sylus, who loves how scandalous his girlfriend can be.

[amaraee]

Kitty shadow 🐈

[tbaluver]

When You Have A Baby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

genre: fluff fluff

a/n: writing these are so much fun <3 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! if you have any more ideas for me to write my requests are always open! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would be so smitten with his newborn. He won't stop internally and externally praising your strength for carrying and birthing his child. He would compare the size of your new baby's hand and his hand. "Their hands are so tiny" He would whisper. As he holds his new born so closely, he vows to make sure no harm came to the two of you.

Your baby room would have a couple plushies that either you won from the claw machines. He can put the baby to sleep so quick whether it was rocking the baby or reading them a bedtime story.

He's very protective but also very cautious. He'll make sure the baby would be all bundled up and comfortable before you two leave the house. Also very soft and sweet with the baby. Spoils the baby with so much love with forehead kisses and snuggles!

This man loves to cuddle the baby. When you come home and you don't see him anywhere, then he's probably in the nursery. He would sit on the rocking chair with the baby in his arms. He just wants to spend as much time as possible with the baby. Nothing in the world can compare to the happiness that brings him where his child is sleeping peacefully in his arms. One of your favorite moments is when you two would be peacefully asleep, the baby safely and comfortably in between you two.

Zayne:

He might not show it physically, but he's definitely in pain seeing you in labor. He'll be by your bedside, gently holding your hand and letting you squeeze his hand as much as you need too. It's all worth it in the end when he sees his baby with his own eyes. Inside he's melting but he keeps his cool.

Like I said in my pregnancy post this man is always ready. Ready whenever you were pregnant and ready when the baby is born.

When the baby cries when your both asleep, he'll assure you that he can do it and let you go back to sleep. He'll handle anything whether it's feeding the baby, cradling, changing the diaper, or helping put the baby back to sleep, as long as you get some rest. He would even be the first to wake up just to check up on the baby just so you can have a few more minutes of rest before you have to get up.

One of your favorite memories would be seeing him handle the baby so well in his arms in the nursery. You would snake your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder as he continues cradling the baby.

He handles his new responsibilities as a father so well. He can barely pull himself from the baby. It's like he had everything under control and nothing can affect him as long as you were okay. He made sure to validate any frustrations and anything you were anxious about. He was always there to reassure you.

Rafayel:

His eyes would be shimmering from glee as he cradled the baby. "They're so tiny!" He would whisper shout, carefully not trying to wake the baby. The first time he ever held the baby, he didn't think it would be possible for his body to let go of the small bundle of joy in his arms.

You are so strong for having to take care of two babies. The one you birthed and your husband, Rafayel. He playfully pretends to be your baby so you can also take care of him like you do with your new born.

You guys would have such a beautiful baby room. The room would have such warm lighting. He would have the walls painted with what he had envisioned and a mix of furniture that you both planned out. You guys would have a crib mobile that is obviously sea themed.

You would also walk in on him many times cradling the baby and encouraging his baby to say his first words would be anything of dad or the baby has to show him first when they learn how to walk.

He would def take so much memories of you and your baby. He'll put some baby safe paint on your baby's hands and stamp their hand print on a small canvas so when they grow up, you'll all remember the time they were so tiny. Finding you again was a miracle in itself and having this baby with you, he would need or create a different word to describe it all.

Sylus:

He would be right at your side during labor, wiping your sweat off your forehead and giving you reassurance. "You're doing so well sweetie. Our baby will be out soon."

He does everything that he can without protests. He would give warm baths and sweet kisses to your baby's head every moment he can.

He makes it all look easy and even handles any chores around the house himself or makes Luke and Kieran do it so you have time to recuperate. He would spend quality time with you any time he can to make you feel just as loved if not more with your growing family.

It would physically pain him to leave you and his newborn at home when he had to leave for business. Although neither of you would have gotten that much sleep in weeks, a part of him wished that it would never end. Even if it would be just for a few hours, he did not want to miss anything that happens. What if the baby laughs and he wasn't there to take a video of it? What if an emergency happened and you needed him? He would make you record everything you and your baby do because he doesn't want to miss any milestone in his baby's life.

Just like you, he would spoil the baby rotten. When he would come back from his business trips or meetings he would bring back gifts for you or anything that reminded him of you and your baby.

You would ban him from singing any lullabies to your baby but sometimes when you're already asleep he would secretly sing your baby a song. He would feel fully content in his life.