#kieran needs attention

[wildflowercryptid]

i need to explore my paldea exchange students au more bc it's basically juliana's " you're dating my lil brother now so i guess i gotta learn to get along with you " arc with kieran. she's definitely dragging his ass to hassel's classroom and making him join the art club.

[psn-stalling]

Doing better?

Yeah. Just took me awhile...

Just. Still not happy about it. But I'm not breaking down everytime I think about it, so that's an improvement. That was just- Pretty bad...

[gay-dorito-dust]

Cat boy Zayne who gives you kitten kisses after you kissed his head. He loves reciprocating the affection you give him as you deserve it in his eyes.

Cat boy Zayne meows as he enters the room, almost as though he’s saying ‘hello’ or ‘pardon for the intrusion’ before he makes himself comfortable by your side, listening to you read aloud for him as he purrs in content. That or he waits for you to open the door, looking up at you with adoring eyes as he meows at you softly before moving into your room.

Cat boy rafayel would get pissy when you show other cats attention, so much so to the point where he feels the need to one up them by behaving himself and or just getting to you first before the other cats.

The fucker even climbs on high shelves and meows for your attention. He hates having to fight for your attention but he’ll be petty if he must to get it. Probably ruins your favourite plushie and tried to act innocent as the evidence lays at his paws…

Cat boy sylus is always accompanied by Luke and Kieran, who are mischievous cat boys in their own right. However Sylus loves to act like he’s hunting you as he hunkers down with his eyes wide and his hips wiggle vigorously before he lunges at you, smirking with pride when he towers above you in triumph.

Sits at the window and thinks he’s looks mysterious, but he’s actually being cute as he chitters as he eyes prey he unfortunately can’t reach due to being indoors and staring out of the window. He even looks back at you as though he’s expecting you to let him out so he can hunt, not knowing that he’s very much a domesticated house cat who will follow you to work by using your scent.

Cat boy Xavier would sleep on your bed even if it’s heavily advised that he shouldn’t, but you couldn’t fight against those beautiful rag doll kitty eyes that he gives you as he flattens his ears to his head, which only makes it worse and you end up having a cat who for some reason takes up most of your bed.

He kneads your tits

He sits next to you when your eating because he knows your the weakest link and will let him eat your food, if you don’t he’ll just take some and your forced to hunt him down to get the food out of his mouth.

[shitsylus]

SYLUS AS YOUR HUSBAND ₊˚⊹

⭑.ᐟ fiance sylus! who'd let you spend on anything you want for the wedding. you'd choose the wedding venue, the DJ, the guest list, and all. only on 1 condition that you'd choose the grandest wedding dress imaginable. he wanted you to present yourself as the princess you truly are in his eyes. the money didn't matter to him, he did have to ask luke and kieran to pull some strings on some ends because of how grand this event is. in the end, he only added extra guards at the wedding because he had feared that dangerous people from the N109 would try to sabotage this joyous day for the two of you.

⭑.ᐟ husband sylus! who'd buy the most expensive suite in your dream hotel on the first night as husband and wife. he'd rip out all the excessive layers on your wedding dress and make love with you aggressively but still attentive to your needs. he'd still ask in between your "deed" of how you were doing. he'd treat you with utmost care after that. making sure you to treat you to extra cuddles and soft kisses all over your face.

⭑.ᐟ husband sylus! who'd cook you breakfast every morning. perfecting the art of making the softest, most flavorful omelettes because they were your favorite. He took pride in the fact that his omelettes were better than any Michelin-star chef’s, all because he wanted to bring you joy with every bite.

⭑.ᐟ husband sylus! who'd tease you slightly when you eventually bear his child. he'd tease about your gain in weight. but he never forgets about your needs. he'd never believe those stupid food rules that supposedly affects your child's personality. though he would obey every single order from the doctor and never misses any of your appointments. he always had time to accompany you to the doctor. he'd want the gender of the child to be a surprise though.

⭑.ᐟ husband sylus! who'd tear up the moment your child is born. he didn't care if his child would be a girl or a boy, but as soon as your daughter was born, he was overcome with joy. he'd kiss your forehead and praise your strength and bravery throughout the whole thing. he'd pray to the Gods for your survival though he isn't that religious (in my opinion haha).

⭑.ᐟ husband sylus! who'd show up to all of your daughters recitals and make sure that his daughter had the loudest crowd. he'd ask Luke and Kieran to bribe people to cheer on his daughter. when you weren't home, he'd secretly practice with his daughter for the upcoming recital (with the tutu and all).

[rafayelxsylusho]

the jealous fic series is sooo good! can’t wait for the sylus one

I almost forgot about my man. Thanks for reminding me!

Hope you like it!!

How the LADS men fu€k jealousy out of you.

TW: SMUT

***There is a quote from a book that some of you have probably read before, I just really wanted to use it in one of sylus fics😊😊***

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

You had been looking forward to surprising Sylus at home, craving some much needed alone time with him after recent missions that kept you apart. However, once you got to his place you found the house quiet and empty. No sign of Sylus anywhere. A flicker of concern began to rise in your chest as you wandered the halls, calling out his name, but only the echo of your own voice greeted you.

You found Luke and Kieran in the study, engaged in their usual antics, lounging on the plush leather sofas, having a lively discussion that ended abruptly when they noticed you.

"Look Kieran, our favorite hunter came to visit," Luke drawled. "Here to see the boss man, y/n?"

Kieran sat up and offered you a genuine smile. "Boss isn't here at the moment," he explained "He's been called away to attend a rather important auction tonight."

"Auction?" you asked, frowning. "What auction?"

Luke leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The big one. The one everyone's talking about. The one boss has been prepping for all week."

You try to recall any mention of an important auction Sylus had spoken of, but as much as you rack your brain you come up empty. It's not like him to keep something like this a secret from you. A flicker of concern crosses your face as you wonder why he wouldn't have mentioned it to you directly.

"So, when will he be back?" you asked, trying to sound casual even as you felt a flutter of disappointment at his absence.

Kieran shrugged. "Hard to say. These things can go on for hours. Days even. Depends on how stubborn the other bidders are."

Luke snorted. "And how determined Sylus is to win."

You find yourself waiting for Sylus to return home from the mysterious auction. The hours tick by, and to pass the time, you decide to engage in some friendly competition with Luke and Kieran. The three of you spend the next couple of hours engrossed in a highspeed, adrenaline pumping videogame.

In between races, you raid the well stocked kitchen, returning with an array of tasty treats and Sylus' prized collection of gourmet chocolates.

As the night wears on you can't help but glance at the clock more frequently, wondering what's keeping Sylus. A regular auction should have ended by now, and while he is known for his meticulous attention to business dealings, this delay is starting to feel a bit longer than usual.

You decide to reach out to Sylus. You pull out your phone and dial his his private number, the one reserved for emergencies and urgent matters. After a few rings, his deep, smooth voice fills your ear.

"Y/n, what is it?" his tone unusually distracted. It's clear that he's in the midst of something important, his words clipped and hurried. The sound of muffled voices and distant commotion can be heard in the background, hinting at a crowded and chaotic environment.

"Hey, I'm at your place with Luke and Kieran," you explain, trying to keep your own voice casual despite the unease you feel. "I've been waiting for you to come home. Is everything alright?"

There's a pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in Sylus' mind as he considers his response. "Yes, everything's fine," he says at last "This auction... it's taking longer than expected. Complications arose with a few of the other attendees." He sighs, and you can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, a telltale sign of his exasperation and stress. "I'm doing what I can to wrap things up, but it may be a while."

Your heart skips a beat as you hear a woman's voice, a stranger's melodic tone. The woman's words are muffled, but her term of endearment "Sylus darling" rings out crystal clear through the phone speaker.

You stiffen, gripping the phone tighter as a flurry of unwelcome thoughts and emotions wash over you. A cold, sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, and you suddenly feel like an intruder in the intimate moment.

"I apologize, kitten, but I must go," Sylus says abruptly, his voice tight and strained. "I'll deal with this and be home as soon as I can. Wait for me" With that, he ends the call, leaving you staring at your phone in stunned disbelief.

"Shit, was that Ira?" Luke asks looking at Kieran.

Your head snaps up as Luke's question hangs in the air, a sense of confusion etched on your face. Kieran, noticing your expression, quickly elbows Luke to silence him, shooting him a warning glare.

"Shh, don't be an idiot," Kieran hisses under his breath, though not quiet enough that you don't hear him. "You shouldn't go around throwing around names like that without knowing for sure."

Kieran clears his throat, his expression turning somber as he sees the confusion and hurt in your eyes. "Ira is just an old business partner of Sylus," he explains carefully, choosing his words with deliberate precision. "They have a history together, but it's all about work. Nothing more.

Unable to shake the sense of unease in your gut, you eventually make your way upstairs to Sylus' bedroom, hoping to find some sense of comfort and familiarity in the space that has become so closely associated with the man you've come to love so deeply. You curl up on the plush, king-sized bed, inhaling the faint scent of Sylus' cologne that still lingers on the silken sheets. As exhaustion finally overtakes you, you drift off to a fitful sleep, your dreams fragmented images of Sylus and the unknown woman, their figures intertwined in ways that make your heart ache with a painful, jealous fervor.

When you awaken sometime later, the first light of dawn just beginning to peek through the curtains, you reach out instinctively for Sylus, only to find the space beside you cold and empty. You check your phone, hoping for a message or a call, but there is nothing.

You know you can't stay here, not like this, not with the way your mind is racing. The feelings inside you threaten to consume you, jealousy, anger, and a deep, abiding fear of losing the man you love.

As you zip up your backpack, the weight of your decision to leave Sylus' place feels both heavy and necessary. You take a deep breath and make your way back to your apartment.

Once inside the familiar confines of your own space the memory of Tara's camping invitation surfaces, and you realize that the solitude of the city may be more than you can bear in your current state of mind. Without hesitation, you pull out your phone and dial Tara's number, praying that she hasn't already made other plans or filled the available spots on her trip. She answers on the second ring, her voice bright and cheerful.

"Hey, Tara," you say, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "I know I already declined the camping trip, but... I've changed my mind. If the offer still stands, I'd love to join you and the team this weekend."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the surprise and delight in Tara's voice as she responds. "Of course, y/n! You're more than welcome to join us. I'm so glad you changed your mind," she says warmly, her words a balm to your battered soul. You thank Tara profusely, already feeling a weight lift from your shoulders at the prospect of escaping the city and the thoughts on your mind.

During the trip Tara and the rest of the team were wonderful hosts, ensuring that you were kept busy and distracted with hikes, campfire stories, and hearty meals. As the night of the trip wears on you lose yourself in the simple joys of the outdoors, the smell of pine needles and woodsmoke, the distant hooting of an owl, the warmth of your friends gathered around the flickering fire. Slowly but surely, the tightness in your chest begins to ease, and the painful thoughts of Sylus and the mysterious woman start to recede.

By the time the weekend draws to a close, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, the fresh air and company of your friends having done wonders to clear your head. The feelings of jealousy are still there, lingering in the back of your mind, but they no longer threaten to consume you as they once did.

As you step into your apartment in the late afternoon, the familiar scent of home envelops you, offering a sense of comfort and security that you desperately crave. The weight of the weekend's emotions and the long journey back to the city have left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Without hesitation, you make your way to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grime and weariness of the past couple of days. As the hot water cascades over your skin, you let out a sigh, allowing the steam to fill your lungs and cleanse your mind.

You linger in the shower for longer than necessary, the heat of the water soothing your aching muscles and helping to melt away the lingering tension that has taken up residence in your body. By the time you step out, your skin is pink and tingling, and a sense of renewed energy courses through your veins.

As you towel yourself dry, you remember the need to charge your phone, which had died during the camping trip due to the lack of a reliable power source. You pad out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of damp footprints on the hardwood floor as you make your way to your backpack. Fishing out your phone from the depths of the bag, you plug it in and watch as the screen flickers to life, the dim glow illuminating your face, the phone chimes and you take a deep breath before unlocking the screen. The anticipation of seeing Sylus' name among the list of notifications makes your heart race in your chest, a mix of hope and dread swirling within you.

As the messages load, you scan the list of senders, your eyes widening as you realize that there is not a single one from Sylus among them. You set your phone down on the kitchen counter, the glow of the screen illuminating the darkened room as you rummage through the cabinets for a glass. The house feels strangely quiet, a stark contrast to the lively chatter and laughter that filled the campsite just hours before. As you fill your glass with cool, refreshing water and take a long sip, you can't help but let your mind wander back to the memory of Sylus' curt goodbye and the sound of that woman's voice, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that even the cold water can't wash away.

You set the glass down with a heavy sigh, your reflection staring back at you from the darkened window above the sink. In the dim light, you can see the weariness etched into the lines of your face, the shadows beneath your eyes a testament to the restless nights, and just as you're about to turn away from the window, a sudden movement outside catches your eye. You lean closer, peering out into the darkness, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see a tall, familiar figure standing beneath the dim glow of the streetlamp.

It's Sylus.

He stands motionless, his dark silhouette unmistakable even at this distance. He seems to be looking directly at your window, though you're not sure if he can actually see you through the darkness and the reflection on the glass. You take a tentative step back from the window, lots of questions race through your mind. What is Sylus doing here? How long has he been waiting? You freeze at the sound of a knock, your heart leaping into your throat as a wave of panic and adrenaline surges through your body. The knock comes again, more insistent this time, the sound of Sylus' fist against the wood unmistakable.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart as you make your way towards the door. You pause for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, and take one last steadying breath before turning the knob and pulling the door open.

"Sylus," you say, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Even in the dim light of the hallway, you can see the intensity of his gaze, the crimson eyes that seem to pierce right through you, seeing straight into your very soul. He's dressed in a dark shirt and pants, his hair slightly disheveled, as if he's been running his hands through it in agitation.

"Hello kitten" Sylus murmurs, "how was your trip?"

"It was fine," you say shortly. "How did you know I went on a trip?"

Your mind races as you wonder how Sylus could possibly know about your last-minute decision to join Tara and the others for the weekend. You didn't mention it to anyone. So how did he find out?

Sylus leans against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space. He looks tired, you notice, the lines around his eyes a little deeper than usual. But there's a intensity to his gaze, a fierce focus that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I have my ways," he says, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips "The real question is, why did you leave without telling me?" His voice is low and smooth, but there's an hint of frustration beneath the calm exterior. 

"Come in," you say softly, stepping back to allow him entry. As Sylus steps into your apartment, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine, his broad shoulders brushing against the doorframe as he moves past you.

Sylus turns to face you, his crimson eyes searching yours in the dim light cast by the single lamp you left on before your trip. He looks different in the low light, softer somehow, the harsh angles of his face gentled by the shadows. But there's still a intensity to his gaze, a fierce determination that makes your heart race in your chest.

You stand there, clutching the towel tightly around your body. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of the emotions that have been building for days.

"Well? Are you going to invite me to sit down, or are we going to stand here all night?" There's a undercurrent of impatience in his voice, a frustration that belies the casual tone.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, and gesture towards the couch. "Of course, please, make yourself comfortable," you say, the words sound too formal to your own ears.

You turn to head to your bedroom, suddenly feeling the chill of the air on your damp skin beneath the thin towel "I'm going to change," you say over your shoulder, not looking back at him as you make your way to your bedroom.

You gasp as you feel Sylus' strong hand grab the back of your neck, his fingers curling around the damp skin and pulling you gently but firmly towards him. The sudden contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, your heart stuttering in your chest as you find your back pressed against the firm wall of his chest.

"Sylus," you breathe out "what are you doing?"

His other hand comes to rest on your hip, his long fingers splaying across the curve of your waist, holding you firmly in place. You can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of the towel, the warmth seeping into your flesh and making your pulse race.

Sylus leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear as he speaks, his voice a low murmur. "I couldn't let you walk away without getting an answer first," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me, kitten, why did you leave without telling me? His grip on your neck tightens slightly, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make it clear that he has no intention of letting you go until he gets the answers he wants. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy of a man on the brink of losing control. It both frightens and exhilarates you, the power he holds in his hands, the way he can make you feel with a single touch.

"Sylus, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you try to pull away from him. "Not like this. I can't think straight when you touch me like this."

Sylus chuckles darkly, a low, rumbling sound that you can feel vibrating through his chest pressed against your back. His fingers tighten briefly on your hip before releasing you, only to trail slowly up the curve of your side, his touch feather light and teasing. "Like what, kitten?" he murmurs in your ear. "I haven't even touched you yet, not the way I want to. Not the way you need me to."

His hand reaches the side of your breast, his fingers grazing the swell of it through the damp towel. You can feel your nipple tightening in response, betraying your body's desire for his touch.

"Tell me why you left, y/n," Sylus demands, his voice hardening with impatience. "And don't lie to me."

You take a shaky breath, Sylus' proximity and touch making it hard to focus on anything else. "I...I needed some time to myself," you admit "To clear my head and think things through."

Sylus' hand stills on your breast, his fingers curling possessively around the soft mound. "Think things through about what?" he asks, there is something dark and dangerous lurking beneath the smooth surface of his voice.

You swallow hard, knowing you can't avoid the conversation any longer. "About us," you confess, the words falling from your lips "About what this...thing is between us. I didn't know how to handle it, so I left."

His lips brush against your shoulder, the ghost of a kiss that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. You can feel the heat of his breath, the dampness of his tongue as he traces the curve of your collarbone. "Tell me, kitten," he breathes against your skin, "is this what you needed to escape from? Me, touching you like this? Wanting you like this?"

His hand slides down your arm, his fingers intertwining with yours. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"Because if it is, I can make it so much worse. Or so much better," Sylus promises darkly "All you have to do is say the word, sweetie."

"Who is she, sy?" You whisper, words barely audible but you know he heard you. Sylus' teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips curling into a smirk against your flesh. He knows exactly what you're asking, but he's in no hurry to answer, not when he has you like this bare, breathless, and at his mercy.

His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, the dampness of the water that clings to you. "You know, for someone who needed to clear their head, you seem awfully focused on her." Sylus' hand slides down to your waist, his fingers splaying possessively over your stomach. The evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your backside as he holds you close.

"Ira is someone I knew from my past. We were discussing a mutual investment opportunity. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about."

"Is that so?" you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. He nips at your neck again, a little harder this time, sending a jolt of sensation straight down your spine.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, kitten," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. "But I must admit, it's...intriguing. Seeing this side of you, the side that wants to claw and scratch and mark what's hers."

He spins you around to face him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. With a sharp tug, he yanks the towel down, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. Your nipples pebble instantly, peaks tightening under the sudden exposure and the intensity of Sylus' gaze. His hands slide up your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, teasing the sensitive skin. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, the evidence of his power and strength, the way he could take you and claim you and make you his. His hands still on your breasts, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you in place. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, his eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath away. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, filled with raw emotion.

"What makes you think I could ever look at another woman the way I look at you?" Sylus asks "Do you have any idea what it's like, y/n, to be consumed by someone, to have them under your skin, in your blood, in every fucking beat of your heart?"

He leans in closer, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the power and the hunger that he keeps leashed, barely contained. His eyes flash with a mix of anger and pain, his grip on your breasts tightening almost uncomfortably. His voice drops to a low, fervent whisper "I've waited lifetimes for you, kitten, dreaming of the day I could hold you again, touch you again, make you mine again."

His thumb brushes over your nipple roughly "And this is what I get in return? You, running from me, doubting me?" Sylus' voice rises, the anger and the hurt bleeding through every word. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam, a smirk spreading across his face as he sees the fear and excitement in your eyes. His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, sinful purr. "Go ahead, kitten. Run. See how far you get before I catch you." Sylus' hand slides down to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly. "Run, If I catch you, I fuck you"

The dark promise in his voice sends a thrill of fear and anticipation down your spine. Acting on instinct, you wrench yourself out of his grasp and turn to run, your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor as you race up the stairs to your bedroom. You can hear Sylus' footsteps behind you, his long strides eating up the distance between you. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you reach the top of the stairs. You don't look back, you don't dare to see if he's close.

Just as you think you're about to reach the safety of your bedroom, you feel Sylus' Evol envelop you. An unseen force lifts you off your feet, strong and unyielding, pulling you back towards him. You let out a startled yelp, your hands grasping at the empty air as you're lifted higher, your bare breasts bouncing slightly with the movement.

"Sylus!" you cry out, a mix of fear and excitement lacing your voice. You're suspended in mid-air, towel no longer wrapped over the lower half of your body, your legs kicking futilely as you try to find purchase on the carpeted stairs.

"Did I say you could run that far, kitten?" Sylus' voice comes from behind you. You feel his presence looming over you, the heat of his body, the power radiating off him in waves. "I told you, I'd catch you. And now, I'm going to claim my prize."

His hands grip your bare thighs, his fingers sinking into your soft flesh as he hoists you over his shoulder. He carries you effortlessly, as if you weigh nothing at all, his steps never faltering as he walks towards your bedroom. You find yourself staring at his back, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his shirt stretches taut over the muscles beneath.

When he reaches your room, he kicks the door open, the wood slamming against the wall with a bang. He carries you inside and with a few more strides, he reaches the bed and tosses you onto it, your naked body bouncing on the mattress. You land on your back, your breasts heaving as you catch your breath. Sylus looms over you, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, a smile playing on his lips. He takes in the sight of you, sprawled out and bare before him.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, your heart pounding as you watch Sylus remove his clothing. He starts with his tie, yanking it off and tossing it carelessly to the side. His fingers move to his shirt buttons next, undoing them one by one with deliberate slowness, as if he's savoring the anticipation of revealing what lies beneath. As he shrugs off his shirt, your breath catches in your throat. The dim light from the hallway casts shadows across the planes of his chest, highlighting the defined muscles, the sculpted abs, the V that disappears into his pants. You remember how his skin feels beneath your fingertips, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and your core clenches with sudden, desperate need. His hands move to his belt next, undoing the buckle with a sharp tug. The leather slips from his pants, falling to the floor with a soft thud. He undoes his fly slowly, inch by inch, until finally, he's shoving his pants and boxers down his long legs. He kicks them off to the side.

Sylus stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You've seen me like this before," he says softly, his voice rough with desire. "But I don't think you've ever really seen me. Not like I want you to see me." He crawls over you, his large frame covering your smaller one as he settles his hips between your thighs, the hard length of him pressing against your core. His hands come up to frame your face, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones, tilting your chin up to force you to meet his intense gaze.

"You should know very well that I adore you," Sylus murmurs, his voice low with emotion. "There is no love purer than mine" His eyes search yours, the intensity burning into your very soul. "But right now," he continues, his voice dropping an octave, turning dark and dangerous. "Right now, I'm going to fuck you like I hate you." His grip on your face tightens, his fingers digging into your skin.

Before you can process it he's thrusting forward, burying himself deep inside you. A scream tears from his throat as he hilts himself fully, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. "FUCK!" Sylus roars, his voice echoing off the walls of your bedroom. At the same time, a scream of pleasure and surprise rips from your own throat, your back arching off the bed, "SYLUS!" you cry out, your voice breaking on a moan as he stretches you, fills you, completes you in a way that feels so right and so perfect.

For a moment, he stays still, buried deep inside you, his heart pounding against your chest, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Then he starts to move, withdrawing until just the tip of his cock remains inside you, only to slam back in with a powerful thrust. "Oh god, Sylus!" you cry out, your voice hitching and breaking as he drives into you again and again. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him, your body rocking with the force of his thrusts.

He feels your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locking at the small of his back. With an approving growl, he sits back on his knees, bringing you up with him. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he changes the angle of his thrusts, now driving up into you from below. "Fuck, just like that," Sylus grunts, his voice filled with lust. "Hold onto me, kitten. Wrap those pretty legs around me tighter." His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls you down onto his cock, meeting his upward thrusts with a force that steals your breath away

You can feel every thick, hard inch of him as he fills and stretches you, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his length. The new position allows him to go even deeper, his cock kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust. You throw your head back, a silent scream of ecstasy on your lips as the pleasure builds and builds inside you. Sylus knows your body intimately, understands what buttons to push, what touches will send you flying. And right now, he's determined to draw this out, to make this last as long as possible. He wants to feel you come undone around him again and again, wants to hear you scream his name until your voice is hoarse and raw. So he restrains himself, ignoring the desperate pleas of your body as your hips buck and writhe against his, seeking more friction, more stimulation.

He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hands avoid your throbbing clit, his lips and teeth avoid your aching nipples, even as they map your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive skin behind your ears.

"Please, Sylus," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, your nails scraping his scalp. "Please, I need..." You can't even finish the sentence, too lost in sensation, too desperate for release.

"I know," Sylus murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I know exactly what you need, kitten. But I'm not going to give it to you. Not yet." He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, a twist of his hips that has you seeing stars. "You're going to come on my cock when I say you can come on my cock," he commands "And not a moment before."

Sylus uses all his strength to drag your hips down his length with brutal force. Your body is no longer your own as he manhandles you, using you for his pleasure. Each powerful thrust drives the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping, your tits bouncing wildly with every slam of his hips against yours.

"Fuck, your cunt feels incredible," Sylus growls, his eyes wild and fevered as he watches your body jolt and quake with his relentless pounding. "So fucking tight and wet and perfect. Made to take my cock". Your mind starts to go hazy, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm as he fucks you.

"Sylus!" you scream, your voice raw and broken as he rails into you. "Sylus, please, I can't...I can't..." But your protests only seem to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder, faster, more demanding.

Sylus leans in, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh at the top of your breast, marking you. He bites down hard enough to make you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure short circuiting your brain for a moment. As he releases your skin, he laves the reddened mark with his tongue, soothing the sting.

"Do you want some help, kitten?" Sylus murmurs, his voice a low against your skin. He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against your aching clit, giving you a momentary respite from the relentless pounding. He waits for your response, his eyes glinting with a dark, knowing amusement. "Yes? No? Maybe so?" His tone is playful, taunting, as if he knows exactly what your answer will be. He reaches in between your bodies, his fingers find and circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, pushing you to the very edge of ecstasy. Your hips buck wildly against his hand, seeking more, craving more.

"Yes, Sylus," you manage to gasp out" Please..please..please.." Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.

 "That's my good girl," he purrs, rewarding your submission with a hard thrust. "Now, come for me, kitten. Come all over my cock. Let go, y/n . Give yourself to me completely."

With that command, Sylus leans down and drags the flat of his tongue over your nipple, the wet heat sending a shock of pleasure through your body. At the same time, his fingers pinch your sensitive clit, rolling it, tugging on it, giving you the direct stimulation you've been aching for. The dual sensation is too much for you to withstand. Your body seizes up, back arching in a semicircle, as a intense orgasm crashes over you. "SYLUS!" you scream, your voice echoing off the walls, as wave after wave of ecstasy radiates out from your core, consuming you entirely. Sylus buries himself deep inside you once again, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he also finds his release. "Fuck, y/n , fuuuuuck!" his hot seed erupting from his cock and painting your insides. You can feel every twitch, every spurt of his thick come as he fills you up. Sylus' hips jerk and stutter, grinding against yours as he rides out the waves of his intense climax, pushing his seed deeper with every movement.

He collapses on top of you, his muscular frame blanketing your smaller one, pinning you to the mattress. He's still buried deep inside your fluttering, over sensitive heat, his softening cock plugging you up, trapping his seed inside you. His breath comes in harsh, ragged gasps as he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he comes down from his intense high. He takes a moment to marvel at the utterly debauched picture you make, hair mussed, skin flushed and slick with sweat, your bodies still joined intimately.

"I can adapt to any location and call it home, as long as I'm willing" Sylus murmurs, his voice low and intimate "but now I have a condition" His eyes bore into yours, the crimson depths swirling with unreadable emotions. "If you are not there then I'm not interested. "This," he gestures vaguely at the bedroom, but you know he means more than just the physical space, "means nothing without you in it."

Sylus' hand slides down to rest over your racing heart, feeling it beat against his palm. "You are my home, my haven. The one constant I crave." His voice drops to a fervent whisper, heavy with unspoken emotion. "So that condition is you must be there. Always. Or I will not settle for anything less."

[kirbmey]

⠀⠀ ཐི ˚̣̣̣ ⠀⠀ cockwarming w husband!sylus ⠀ ˚̣̣̣ ཋྀ

synopsis: school was too much, exams were the only thing you could think about and sylus wanted to help you relax and drift away ( 〃．．)

tw: smut but fluffy, sylus is so delicate with reader, cockwarming duh, mentions of size training, breeding, reader is babied, etc.

again you found yourself with both your elbows propped on top of the desk, reading and rereading every paragraph from the notes you took in class, the sentences mixing between each other.

you made sure your sleeping gown was already on, skincare already done and hair put together in two messy braids, telling yourself this was going to be the last day you’d stay up so late to study. well, you told yourself that yesterday too (*￣∀￣)

on the other hand, sylus was done with todays duties, sending luke and kieran off to some sneaky mission, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked towards your shared room. he knew you were stressed, and he knew you needed some aid from him since you were too fixated on getting the best grades. he told you several times that you didn’t need to study at all, that he could provide you for every lifetime, but you complied.

as he approached said room he noticed a faint warm light peeking through the gap under the door, sighing and entering silently, finding you almost asleep on top of your notes, the dinner plate he left you before heading to his office untouched.

he took off his belt, throwing it aside and got close to your smaller frame sitting in the big desk chair, caressing your messy hair as he leaned to leave small kisses along your cheek, taking in how you opened those pretty eyes he loved so much.

“kitten, how are you feeling?” he whispered against your skin, feeling the vibration of his low voice against your face. you stir, rubbing your eyes with a weak fist before straightening your back, looking up to him with a pout while nodding lazily.

“can’t study m’re, sy.” you blurred out, eyes almost tearing up because you wanted him to feel proud of you, to cherish every single perfect grade you pulled.

“that’s fine, princess, you did great, but you have to eat and get some sleep, hmm?” he coaxed you into his body by holding your hips and lifting you up, leaving you to rest on the comfort of your king sized bed and its silky sheets while he traveled to the kitchen to cook your favorite dish instead of the one he gave you hours ago.

after some minutes he went back with a tray, said dish resting on it with some chocolate to eat after, knowing that you needed something sweet after eating.

he sat next to you, caressing your cheek to gain your attention; you were mindlessly playing with the fabric of the sheets while waiting for your husband. you noticed how he spred his long and fit legs along the mattress, indicating you to sit on your favorite place, his lap.

“can we… y’know.” you voiced shyly after a few bites he hand fed you, expecting the classic teasing he always gave you. sylus knew you wanted him inside you, just to warm you up, something you two started practicing not so long ago to size train you, finding comfort in this along the way.

so he didn’t tease, knowing how tired your little brain was for anything at all, holding your hip with one big palm to make you momentarily stand up before pulling himself out off his dressing pants, cock soft at your sight.

your smaller hand tried reaching it to give him a few strokes, being stopped by the white haired man and looking at his crimson eyes, pupils heart-shaped as he did it himself, allowing you to sink on him at a really slow peace after putting your slightly wet cotton panties aside.

“there you go, good girl.” he encouraged you while you took him fully, his dick not entirely hard anyway. he then went back to feed you, cleaning up your mouth when it got dirty and bringing the glass of water to your lips when you where thirsty.

you finally finished the dish after long minutes; he didn’t really care about how much effort it took you, having the patience of a saint when it came to you. sylus put the tray aside on the table next to your shared bed, not forgetting about the chocolate he brought.

a cute smile crept up your juicy lips, opening your mouth when he fed it to you ounce by ounce, subtly sifting on his lap when he grew bigger inside you at the sight of your sleepy face enjoying the sweet.

sure, he should’ve brought you to the bathroom and wash your teeth after that, but how could he wake up the little bunny who fell asleep against his naked chest right after, quietly snoring and holding his opened shirt between weak fingers?

he just comfortably sat down there, buried deep inside you, one huge hand massaging your nape while the other held a book, reading it while resting his chin on your head.

the way he slowly thrusted into you in the morning while licking your oh so sweet lips and filling you up after holding it in for the whole night is something i’ll keep private, though (シ_ _)

a/n: wanted to make this some daddy writing but I’m reserving that for zaynie (⇀ ‿ ↼ )

— masterlist.

[snowballseal]

Tipsy Tricks

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You and Sylus agree to focus on work for a little bit, meaning you don't have time to see each other. That is...until you get a panicked call from the twins saying their boss is drunk and needs someone to cuddle with.

Word Count: 1836

Note: FLUFF - Sylus is drunk, but honestly, I feel like he can handle his alcohol well so he does a bit of acting. It's all just to get your attention and he's a little more clingy. Also, Luke and Kieran my beloveds.

---

“Miss, we need your help!”

You blink at the sudden shout that comes through your phone the moment you answer it.

“Luke?”

“Please Miss! Boss is not acting himself!”

“Kieran? Wait- hold on, just-”

“Ah! We’re too late!”

“Please Miss, come save us!”

You blink again as the call ends just as abruptly.

What the-?

You stare at the now dark screen for a long moment, just trying to process what happened. It’s late, late enough that you’re already dressed in your pajamas and winding down in bed. The last thing you were expecting was to get such a panicked call from Luke and Kieran.

What were they even talking about? Why do they need saving? Is something wrong with Sylus?

The thought wedges into your chest like a thorn, sharp and uncomfortable. You hadn’t heard from the Onychinus leader - your lover - in a few days due to his busy schedule. Neither of you liked it, but you agreed it was best he just focus on work, and you’d do the same to keep yourself occupied.

Getting a call like this only makes your anxiety skyrocket.

You don’t even bother wasting the time to change, throwing a coat over your pajamas and snatching your keys as you hurdle out the door. 

---

“Miss!!! Oh you’ve come to save us, thank you!”

Luke and Kieran throw the door open before your knuckles even touch it. You jump back, chest heaving from having run all the way from the transport station. They look just as frazzled, well, as frazzled as two men in masks can look. 

“What’s wrong? Is Sylus okay? Why are you guys freaking out?” You shoot out questions quickly, grabbing one of the twins by the shoulders. “You guys were infuriatingly cryptic over the phone! Seriously, who calls in the middle of the night like that?”

“We’re sorry,” Luke leans in, trying to rescue his brother from your vicious grip, “We just didn’t know what to do. Boss hardly ever gets like this!”

“He kept talking about you so we figured you could help us,” Kieran insists, ducking away with the help of his brother.

“Okay, but what’s wrong? Is he hurt?” You press for more details, concern only growing. “What happened to make him act weird?”

“He’s drunk.”

…

Your jaw shuts with an audible click, going tense as you stare at them incredulously. Seriously? All of this, all of the panic, the urgency, because Sylus got drunk? You take a deep, slow breath, trying to ease the immediate desire to knock their heads together.

“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you called me. In the middle of the night. After I had settled down for bed. Screaming bloody murder over the phone. Because Sylus had too much to drink?”

“...yes.”

“That’s right.”

You close your eyes. Another deep breath. Slowly, the panic that had washed over you recedes, leaving a sliver of irritation and amusement. You really should expect nothing less from them.

“Okay,” you sigh and prop your hands on your hips. The two seem to relax, like they had actually expected you to smack them. Which you might have, if they hadn’t sounded truly distressed earlier. “So why is this such a bad thing? Sylus is an adult, he can handle being a little drunk, but you two are acting like the world is ending. Why?”

“Well you see-”

“Boss gets incredibly physical when he’s drunk-”

“Not in a violent way-”

“Unless he’s around people he doesn’t like.”

“Right.”

You blink slowly at them, “...so?”

“It’s scary!” Kieran crows.

“It’s like having a kodiak bear trying to give you a hug!” Luke adds, curling his fingers in a gesture you’re sure is meant to mimic said bear.

“We love the boss, but we can’t handle him like this.”

“And he kept asking for you! So we called.”

Ah.

You take a moment to really process all of it. Sylus is drunk. Sylus is a touchy drunk…

It’s too good to pass up on

“Alright, boys,” you hum, an excited grin slowly spreading across your lips. You clap both of them gently on the shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. You can go hide wherever you usually do.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“We knew calling you was the right decision. Please take care of our boss.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The twins skitter off as soon as you let them go, leaving you alone in the foyer. You quietly slip your coat off, hanging it up properly before making your way further into the base. Not knowing exactly where Sylus could be, you check all the obvious places. The bar. His bedroom. The kitchen. All of which are empty.

Finally you come to the den. Each step makes your heart race a little quicker, the thick silence putting you on edge. A drunk person shouldn’t be so hard to find. But as you step into the room, looking over every nook and cranny (despite how large the man in question is), you once again find it empty.

Where on earth could he be?

“My, my, a kitten’s wandered into my home.” You nearly jump out of your skin when an arm curls around your waist, drawing you back against a solid chest. The familiar warmth of his touch is like a balm to your nerves. You glance over your shoulder, gaze meeting a pair of sleepy vermillion eyes, their depths hazy and dark. “You broke our agreement, sweetie.”

You bite back a smile, “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to if a certain someone hadn’t gotten tipsy and scared the boys.”

Sylus huffs, his face dipping to nuzzle into the crook of your neck in an uncharacteristically soft show of affection. His breath is dizzyingly warm against your skin, his nose tracing featherlight along the column of your throat, like he’s breathing you in. It makes you feel dizzy. You clutch onto his arm to anchor yourself, breath hitching when his lips press tenderly against your racing pulse. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

The words are a mere whisper, the sound rumbling through his chest, so deep you can feel it with how his body leans into yours. You let out a shuddering breath, eyes flickering shut.

“I missed you too, Sy.”

So much. You didn’t want to admit to yourself just how much his absence had been wearing you down. Little by little until you could feel the gaping emptiness, like a stream carving a canyon. You were homesick. And it makes your heart flutter to know he felt the same.

“How about we sit, huh?” You suggest softly, and his arms tighten. Turning your head, despite the awkward angle, you press a reassuring kiss to his silvery locks, “I’m not going anywhere, love. I can’t support your weight much longer, though.”

Seemingly appeased, Sylus lets out an understanding hum. In a puff of black smoke, you find yourself settled on the couch, your back pressed into the soft leather with Sylus laying on top of you, his arms still curled around your waist, head resting on your chest. He nuzzles into you like a cat, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

It’s adorable really. And jarring. While Sylus has never shied away from being affectionate, it’s always been in his rough, teasing way. This feels tender. Vulnerable. While you were originally planning to tease him to no end, you find yourself overwhelmed with a gentle kind of adoration for the man, your fingers softly fussing with his hair.

“You know, I think I like this side of you.”

“Hmmm, is that so?” Sylus mumbles sleepily, his eyes barely open as he gazes up at your face.

“Yah,” you breathe, tracing the relaxed line of his brow, fingers skimming down his cheek to brush the corner of his lips, “You’re acting so cute and docile. Maybe I should start calling you kitten.”

Even sleepy Sylus won’t let that stand. The second your fingers graze his lips, he nips at them, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you snatch them back, inhaling sharply. Heat curls in your chest, matching the heat burning behind his gaze as he flashes you that lazy yet dangerous smile.

“Don’t mistake my affection for passivity, sweetie,” he rumbles, pushing himself up just enough to graze his lips against yours, the smell of expensive alcohol and his rich cologne clouding your senses. “You should be more wary of a man when his restraints are loose. There’s no telling what he might do once you fall for his trap.”

Ah. You hold back a giggle, eyes narrowing up at him with mirth. So that’s what this was all about.

“Trap, huh? Is that what this was? Did you get tipsy and scare the twins on purpose so they’d call me?”

Sylus doesn’t look ashamed for even a second, offering a nonchalant shrug. The way his ears go red, though, tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Aw, you did all that just cause you missed me?” Reaching up, you loop your arms around Sylus’ shoulders and draw him even closer. Your lips brush his as you murmur, “You could have just called, pretty bird.”

“And what fun would that be?” Sylus tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your lips. 

He wants to kiss you breathless, the sensation of your lips ghosting against his driving his already muddled thoughts wild. The way you look under him, hair a mess, dressed in such cute pajamas, is a perfectly tempting image, but it’s the fact that he can’t quite think straight that makes him hold back. While getting drunk was certainly a good way to get you here, it was not conducive to anything else he might want.

And simply having you by his side is enough.

You sigh as Sylus presses a sweet kiss to your lips. Unlike most of your kisses, this one isn’t about passion or hunger. Intense, yes, but intense in a way that feels like devotion. It’s reverent and slow, leaving a lingering hum under your skin as he draws away.

“Will you stay?”

Fondly, you rub your nose against his ever so slightly, “Of course.”

“Good.”

Sylus lowers himself back into you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Your arms loop around him, fingers going back to his hair. The silence that envelops you is comforting, the only sound being that of your mingled breath. His warmth covers you so completely, you can’t help but relax, eyelids growing heavier with each second that ticks by. Sylus’ breathing steadily grows deeper, lulling you further and further into sleep. Until you slip under, your lips pressed to his temple as you fall asleep.

And that’s how Luke and Kieran find you the next morning. Cuddled up, with their boss curled around you protectively, like two lounging cats.

You wake up to a notification on your phone.

The picture immediately becomes your new background.

(And secretly, Sylus also makes it his, too.)

---

Hope you enjoyed, my lovely fishies!!!

[loveanddeepthroat]

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”

Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.

“The deal is off.”

You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”

On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.

“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”

Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”

How dare he!

It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.

And he knew this.

“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”

He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.

Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.

“You don’t understand—”

“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.

“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.

The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.

Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”

“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”

That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed. 

“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”

Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.

“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”

Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.

Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.

As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.

Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.

But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.

“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”

The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.

Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.

“Sylus—”

“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.

“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.

Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.

Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”

Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”

Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.

The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.

Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”

And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.

“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.

What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.

It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.

Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.

“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”

The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.

“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.

“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”

During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”

A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.

You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”

She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.

The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest. 

As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”

“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.

Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.

With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.

Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.

The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”

Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?” 

Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.

“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”

He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”

In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”

The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”

Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.

The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.

You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.

Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.

Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.

“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.

“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”

The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”

As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.

Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.

You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”

His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”

“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”

That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.

While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.

You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.

“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”

Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”

As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.

Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?

Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.

It was stupid to feel this way.

Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard. 

“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”

Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.

“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”

You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”

Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?

“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”

Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”

Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.

“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”

This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.

Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.

Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.

“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.

He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”

“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”

You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”

Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.

“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”

“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”

“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.

He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.

Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.

It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.

No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.

As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.

A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.

It was more personal—more intimate.

“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”

Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.” 

Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.

“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.

A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”

His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.

“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”

As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.

The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.

“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.

In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.

Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[monster-effer]

Autistic reader x LaDS headcanons

Summary: My headcanons on how the LADS men would accommodate an autistic!reader. Content: autism mention, fluff, Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Xavier x reader (separate), perfectionism, rigid routines, self soothing, food cycles, missing social cues, gn!reader besides gendered word mentioned in Rafayel’s part, no reader pronouns mentioned (1.3k wc) A/N: I picked these autistic traits based on my own lived experience. If you don’t see yourself represented here, I’m always open to requests. For my fellow autistic bbs <3 (Also this was my first time writing for all the LADS men, so I hope I accurately depicted everyone)

Sylus – missing social cues

Sylus first noticed that you struggle with reading between the lines during the brooch hunting debacle. You took Luke and Kieran’s teasing remarks and sarcasm as genuine advice to take him down. And this made him wonder, did you really think he could be conquered with a pair of flimsy ‘Evol sealing’ handcuffs and a ‘tranquilizer gun’?

He was initially concerned about how gullible you seemed for a hunter. Until you grew closer and shared your autism diagnosis with him, along with the many ways it affects you.

Since then, Sylus thwarts the numerous pranking attempts from Luke and Kieran. Explaining afterwards that they were either being sarcastic or purposefully feeding you false information for their own entertainment.

He has Mephisto follow you around to make sure no one tries to take advantage of you.

Sylus would thoroughly explain any social cues that happen to go over your head when you’re attending auctions and other events in the N109 Zone. He amusedly raises an eyebrow when he notices a particularly flirty auction participant trying to get your attention. As you leave the event together Sylus teasingly whispers in your ear. “Trying to replace me already sweetie? I’m hurt.”

He goes on to describe the desperate attempts the auction attendee made to get in your good graces that night. And he can’t hold in his chuckle as he watches the confused look on your face morph into embarrassment. From your perspective, you thought they were just being friendly.

Sylus never looks down on you for missing social cues. He is your number one advocate and will serve as your social cues translator anytime you need him to. Because to him, you are perfect just the way you are.

Caleb – rigid routines

Caleb and you have been around each other since childhood. You have been together through so many struggles, triumphs, and discoveries about yourselves. He is very protective of you, bordering on obsessive. But you are his pipsqueak and he will protect you at all costs.

Since you were kids, he’s noticed that you stick to a very rigid routine:

Morning Wake up around the same time everyday Get ready for 1-2 hours Start off the day with a cup of tea

Night Go to sleep around the same time every night Go through your 5-step skincare routine Relax in bed for at least an hour scrolling on your phone/reading a book

But he wasn't sure why you did this.

Caleb has learned the hard way that if either of your routines get disrupted, it can throw everything off.

During his time as a DAA fighter pilot and now as a colonel, he’s become used to following a rigid routine himself. But he does not feel the same need to stick to these routines.

Caleb was the first person you talked to about your autism diagnosis, besides granny. And since he wants to know everything about you, he made sure to research autism thoroughly after your talk. He made it his mission to find out how to accommodate you properly.

He tries his hardest to help you stick to your routines and not add anything last minute to your day.

He makes sure you are not disturbed when you get ready in the morning or settle down for the night.

He has programmed his OTTO-SHD to restock the bathrooms with your skincare products when you begin to run low.

When he has a break from his colonel duties, he makes sure to call you before you normally begin your nighttime routine. Or if he misses that time window, he’ll text you instead and await your response when you are ready.

No matter what you need from him, he will always have your back. Because you are his and he is yours.

Zayne – struggle with expressing emotions/soothing yourself

You were childhood friends with Zayne, but you lost contact for a while before you reunited as adults.

You don’t even have to mention that you’re autistic to Zayne because he can spot another autistic person from a mile away. (He also has access to all your medical records as your primary care physician.)

As your relationship grows, he notices that you struggle with expressing your emotions and knowing how to deal with them. Especially when you are feeling angry or sad.

He discreetly reaches out to a colleague who specializes in working with autistic children and adults. From their conversations Zayne acquires a handful of methods to support you and encourage self-soothing when you get into an emotional funk.

Some days engaging in parallel play helps. Which usually involves him reading while you play a video game in the same room. Or he’ll cook a meal for you both, while you rot on the couch and watch cute cat videos on your phone.

Other days you want to be alone. Zayne has no problem giving you your space. Most of the time he walks around downtown Linkon on the hunt for some sweet treat to share.

Rarely, you want to be held. At first glance, Zayne may seem like a stoic, cold person, but he is the ultimate softie for you. He will cuddle with you for hours. And once you’ve had your fill, he’ll ask if you want to take a walk outside to get your blood circulating again.

You haven’t explicitly told him about your autism diagnosis, but you don’t feel the need to. Zayne makes you feel seen, and he wholeheartedly accepts you for who you are.

Rafayel – perfectionism

Although Rafayel is an artist, he does not suffer from perfectionism when it comes to his paintings. He lets the paintbrush and whimsy guide him.

When he "accidentally" meets you again, your perfectionism sticks out to him. He recalls you almost crying during a pottery class when you notice a bump on the vase you made that was fresh out of the kiln. Or how you agonize over the most minute details when he convinces you to paint with him.

When you confide in him that you have autism, he listens intently as you explain how it influences you. After you’re done, he's already came up with a plan.

Rafayel begins by getting you to paint more with him and offering reassurance when it doesn’t turn out how you would have liked it to.

He waxes poetic about how making mistakes is just a part of the journey. He digs up recordings of Bob Ross’ Joy in Painting series for you because that painter reframes mistakes as happy accidents.

He is overly dramatic and silly with you while you create art together so he can prevent you from spiraling into perfectionist tendencies.

Once you start to worry less about messing up when you paint, it carries over into other creative activities. Rafayel hopes that this change will eventually bleed into your everyday life as well. Because you are his queen, and he would do anything to make you happy.

Xavier – food cycles/safe foods

It is no secret that Xavier enjoys eating. And luckily you two have that in common.

But the more time you spend together, the more he notices that your eating habits are cyclic.

For weeks you’ll only want chicken nuggets and broccoli, once you get tired of that you’ll switch to wanting hot pot, then you’ll transition into only wanting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for every meal.

He’s also witnessed you burst into tears over your favorite brand of snack changing their formula or being discontinued.

At first, Xavier was confused. He settled on believing you have strong and long-lasting cravings. But when you told him that you have autism, and explained how it manifests in your life, he leaned fully into accommodating you.

When you two are paired up on a mission together, he hands over your current favorite snack when you have some downtime.

When you are both free, he comes down to your apartment to eat your current favorite meal with you.

He has a collection of stamp cards from the local restaurants you two frequent depending on the current food cycle you’re going through.

Xavier never makes you feel weird about your eating habits, because he will happily eat whatever you want. You are his partner, and he would go through great lengths to help you feel safe and happy.

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity

Sylus x Non!MC

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader (this is it for now)

note: first time writing after five years, please be kind. (im also new in using Tumblr idk how to use this lawrd)

Series Masterlist

It takes a strong woman to love Sylus.

Someone who can carry themselves, someone that doesn't need to be always under surveillance. Someone that can fight. Someone that is worthy to be by his side.

And somehow, you were that someone.

You didn't even know what you did that attracted him to you. Despite not being ugly, you're not a head turner also. You remember asking Sylus about what he saw in you that made him fall in love and he just smirked at you before turning around to toy with his guns and cleaning them.

“You're calm, serene, quiet. Just someone I need. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, little fox. I love you because I love you. You don't need to find explanations in everything."

At that moment, it made your heart stop in a good way. You always believed that someone like Sylus would see you, look at you, and pay attention to you but here he is. Just at an arm's reach.

No matter how everyone warns you that a bad man cannot love, yet you find yourself falling deeper and deeper and you know for certain that Sylus will be there to catch you when you fall.

Loving Sylus comes with its pros and cons. For one, you know that you're safe and in danger at the same time. Living in Onychinus as Sylus's girlfriend made you realize that you are protected yet always under the watchful eyes of your boyfriend's enemies.

Luke, Kieran and even Mephisto guards every move you make just to make sure that you're not harmed.

It's not like you can't fight for yourself, but with them beside you, you don't even have to. That's another perk of being Sylus's “little fox" as he so dearly calls you.

To be honest, you feel like it's more of a benefit than a hassle to be so close to him. Because aside from the many things in your advantage that he can provide, you found a family.

The twins may always cause ruckus, or Mephisto always giving you a heart attack every time he sneaks on you, they're your family.

Being with Sylus gave you something that no amount of money or influence can give. With him, with them, you felt like you belonged.

But then, beautiful dreams can still turn into nightmares.

You didn't really intend to overhear their conversation … or rather, Sylus's command to Mephisto.

“Follow her, report every detail. I don't want one step not taken into account,” he said.

You wouldn't mind it if it were normal circumstances. You're not really the jealous type — or rather, he didn't give you enough reasons to be jealous.

But as you look at him, you can see the somber look in his eyes. For a split second, you can even tell that he might actually cry before masking it.

You watched him as he let his walls break for a moment. No he didn't cry but you can see how his jaws are clenched and his hands are trembling. He is in deep turmoil and him not aware of your presence watching him is enough proof of that.

You felt an impending doom approaching, but you quickly shut them out. You will wait until Sylus tells you what's going on.

Maybe next morning?

Next week?

In a month?

Who knows.

So you waited and waited. But too much time has passed and he never brought it up.

Not until the answer willingly came knocking on Onychinus’s doorstep.

Miss Hunter.

Miss Hunter is a formidable fighter, that much you can say. She's not gonna beat Sylus in hand to hand combat, but she sure can put up a fight and you can see how that pleased Sylus. To be fair, it's hard for him to find an opponent in a place where is the strongest.

So you watched.

You watched from the sidelines as he frustratedly kept trying to resonate with her. You watched his pained face when he was told that she might be subconsciously disgusted by him and that prevents them from maximizing their battle potential.

It hurts, yes, you're a human after all. But you have enough trust in him and you come to the conclusion that Miss Hunter is someone that is a vital part of Sylus's much greater plan.

Whether you say that to yourself because you truly believe it or you're trying to convince yourself that there's nothing deeper going on.

No one knows.

Not even you.

“Sylus?" you called.

"Hmm?” you heard him hum from across the room of his study. He's on his swivel chair, eyes closed but surely not asleep.

It's the middle of the night and you're sure that he is awake. So you came here quickly after setting your alarm just to see him.

It's been a while since you two get to be alone and spend some time as a couple. He is always busy. Always on the phone, always on edge. It's like any time now he is going to explode. So as a good girlfriend, you came to him tonight to offer some kind of peace.

You kissed his temple before standing behind his chair and giving him a soft massage. You felt his muscles release tension and he relaxed in your arms.

“You've been working so hard lately, even the strongest men need to rest too, you know?" you said.

"I can't, sweetie.” he replied, sounding tired. "There's much that I need to do."

“Is it too much that you can't even spare your poor girlfriend a few hours for just one night?” you teased.

“You know that's not what I meant, Little Fox,"

“Then come to bed. Just for tonight. You won't function well if you're not getting the right amount of sleep. Even Mephisto needs rest so he won't overheat.” you insisted now facing him.

“That's not how he works," he grumbled but didn't say anything after. He just hugged your waist and leaned his head on you. You melted because of it.

Most people see him as terrifying and heartless but when you see him like this, you know that he's just like everyone else. He gets tired, he gets upset.

Combing your fingers through his hair and cupping his cheeks to make him look at you, “Come and rest with me. Nothing bad will happen. Stop devising strategies in your head, boss man. I believe in you.”

That seemed to do it. He sighed and got up holding your hand and dragging you to your shared bedroom.

And no matter how he tries to act that he is not tired, he immediately falls asleep as soon as you kiss him goodnight.

You looked at his sleeping form and despite how weak you are compared to him, you wanted to protect him and this little vulnerability that he shows you.

Part 2

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men Reaction to You Being a Corporate Weapon

AN: This is all a girl needs after a long ah work day.

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff and househusbands mentioned

(I do not own these characters)

Rafayel:

Loves tropes. Deeply committed to the bit. The minute you're around, he’s already living in a CEO x secretary AU. POV: He’s the secretary. You are the effortlessly powerful executive, and he thrives in it. He loves seeing you in suits. Let’s just say, he’s more than happy to be spoiled, living his best K-drama fantasy with his iced americano.

Xavier:

You wear the pants in this relationship, and he’s more than okay with that. All he wants is to nap in peace, but you? You cannot stay in one place. Still, he admires your passion and work ethic. He’s more than happy to be your, sweet and loving househusband, minus the cooking. (Let’s leave that to literally anyone else.) Just give him time and attention, and he’ll find every way possible to make your life easier, sneaking in moments of peace between your hectic schedule.

Zayne:

Low-key living the same life, but somehow, you make it look effortless. The paperwork he dreads? You handle it like a boss. Together, you’re a power couple in suits. Rich. Classy. The dream duo for every marketing campaign. He won’t say it outright, but your competence turns him on. Especially when you’re walking around, Bluetooth headset in, commanding the world.

Sylus:

He’s rich and hates the corporate world. But because you are in it? He tolerates your insane work schedule. But do not— I repeat, DO NOT, let your guard down. The moment he detects exhaustion, you’re getting abducted for an unexpected vacation. No warnings, no negotiations. That said, he treasures every single gift you buy him. A dragon hoards its treasures, after all. Luke and Kieran? Congratulations, they now have two rich parents.

Caleb:

Wife. Him. Up. Seriously. A fix-it of dreams. Steal him from that stupid fleet and let him live his cottage core fantasy with you. Sends you work lunches every day with little notes attached, partly to be sweet, mostly to make sure everyone knows you’re taken. Will gladly attend work parties with you just to flex. Shows up with the most extravagant potluck dish, preening like a peacock while everyone marvels at his god tier skills (read more)

(I’m making this a fic. No one stop me.)

[teal-and-crimson]

— treasured map.

SUMMARY: After seeing what has befallen your beloved's back after your late night indulgence you were devastated. He wishes to put your mind at ease. After all, he is still a dragon at soul and dragons love to hoard. Even when it comes to marks you leave.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 8k.

PAIRING: Sylus × fem!reader (afab)

TAGS AND GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS. MDNI! 18+ explicit sexual content. porn WITH plot, some fluff is here and there too, established relationships, mentions of body marks, hickeys, love bites, bruises, and a lot of back scratches (kitten got claws), unprotected intercourse, AFTERCARE, oral sex (mentioned, both f & m receiving), freaking in the bathroom, a lot of sweet talk, mild choking, biting, brat taming if you squint, sylus is a bit of a switch, no y/n, not proofread.

A/N. first time writing smut. first time writing for l&ds fandom. first time posting my work on here. a lot of firsts, eh? also, english isn't my first language so I implore you to be kind ♡ if this gets anywhere near enough attention to feed my wounded ego I might consider writing something else, even a part 2, because my mind is infected with sylus and I need to express my love in some way. hope you enjoy!

When you were shaken from a peaceful slumber by a sudden feeling of falling, you found yourself tangled in the sheets, the only light source was a night lamp standing to the left of the bed. You couldn’t recall how exactly you ended up dozing off, but you were convinced there was supposed to be a certain someone to envelope you in a snuggle and warm embrace. Where was he anyway?

You reached with your hand to feel for your phone on the nightstand. The blackout curtains blocked sunlight during the day and moonlight during the night. The only way of telling time was with the help of the screen now illuminating your face.

2:06 A.M.

It’s too early for you, but for Sylus it’s the middle of the day. Well, rather, night. Judging by the sound of running water, he left your shared silken sanctuary for a steaming hot shower. You couldn’t blame him. Not after what you two have done earlier that evening.

You showed up at his estate quite late, Luke and Kieran saw you in before waving you good-bye reasoning their departure with a simple “bossman’s business”. Well, of course, what else could it be? But before they could leave, they told you that the boss in question had been waiting for you for quite some time. The revered leader of Onychinus was a patient man, but you decided against testing said patience, at least for today. Running up the stairs, and taking a few turns, you entered his office with a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Oh, kitten, you are here,” Sylus rose from his chair and reached for the record player. The pleasant melody suddenly cut off and a silence fell on the room, soft and quiet.

“Yes, Mephisto was circling outside my apartment, I figured you wanted to see me,” you walked towards him. “Next time, please, just call me and use your words.”

At that Sylus laughed, “Sweetie, I had nothing to do with it. Mephisto is probably still working off his previous code settings, since I haven’t put a new one in yet.”

“You are a terrible liar,” you said and poked him on the nose.

The gesture made the man furrow his brows as he focused his gaze on your outstretched finger.

“You wound me.”

“The twins told me you were expecting me. Admit it,” your finger was now at the level with his chest, pointing, but not touching. “You sent the crow.”

“I told the twins you would be coming in because I got an unrequested report from Mephisto about your whereabouts and figured that you’d notice him. Which you did,” the smug expression on his face made you squint your eyes. “And I also figured you’d think I am asking you to come and see me. Which you also did.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me predictable,” you threw your hands up in the air and turned on your hill, with your back facing Sylus. “So, this is what I’m here for? To be insulted.”

You couldn’t put a few steps between the two of you before Sylus caught your wrist and spun you back around to face him. As your eyes met all the fight you had in your chest seemed to evaporate. The crimson gems now looking at you were piercing through your very heart, making the blood rush to your cheeks.

“I would never insult you, my darling,” he said in the most sincere and sweet voice you ever heard him use. “I’m glad you came. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, there’s been a lot to deal with at work. The reports just do not seem to end,” you chuckled looking up at him. The position you were in was rather provocative, you would only need to pull at his neck and raise on your toes to reach for the lips you missed so much. But would he want that?

Sylus wanted more than just a kiss, as it turned out. Whatever business he had in his office was long forgotten as he pushed you towards the bed in his room, simultaneously unbuttoning the pants you had on.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, kneeling and tugging the fabric covering your thighs down. “I’ve missed you. You’re cruel for depriving me of your presence for so long.”

“It wasn’t me, there has been a surge of wanderers on the outskirts of the city and they— Ah…”

The searing trail of kisses he left from your navel and lower would have made you fall backwards, had he not pushed at the small of your back with his hand. Evidently, Sylus couldn’t care less about the reasoning for your absence. If only you knew that for the past week, he had been tracking said wanderers himself with Mephisto’s help, just in cases you needed any aid; he would have been there in a minute. Luckily, his girl had it all covered. Just like now, she had the most alluring thing in the world covered with the black silk and lace piece. His nose nudged at your right hip bone before traveling closer towards the centre as he inhaled the maddening scent of you.

“Tell me you missed me, too, kitten,” a plea, made in a growl created by the deepest part of his throat.

You looked down to see one of the hottest sights you laid your eyes upon. The pathetic, almost begging gaze Sylus tried to mask with a smile on his lips pulled a giggle out of your throat. That man looked almost at home with your black panties near his face. Black and red go hand in hand. You weren’t sure how he managed to look so in control yet so pliable at the same time.

“I did miss you,” you raised your leg and let it rest on his right shoulder, a gesture most welcomed by the man at your heels, while your hand travelled to tangle in his hair. “And this.”

You pushed his head against you centre and he obliged almost too eagerly. The fingers of his other hand pulled the fabric to the side and you could swear he hummed when his tongue came into contact with the wetness that had gathered between your folds. You were glad the twins were out for business, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for long.

The rest of the evening you spent working through every possible way of compensating for all the time you’ve been apart. There wasn’t a single part of your body Sylus left unworshipped and you made sure to return the favour. When you were laying on your stomach, too spent to turn, or lift yourself up, Sylus gathered you in his hands and carried you to the bathroom. There he made sure you relieved your bladder and then he cleaned you up using a warm towel, peppering your exposed skin with feather-like kisses. By the time he was done you were too languid to be standing and the dim lights of his bathroom were almost lulling you to sleep. You didn’t know how exactly you ended up back on the bed, but the sheets felt different, too crisp in comparison to what you felt before, when Sylus was pinning you against them. When you opened your eyes, you noticed the colour was also different and you looked incredulously at the man that cradled you in his arms.

“Didn’t want you to lay on stained linen,” he whispered kissing the top of your head. “Go to sleep, kitten. I’m going to stay right here with you, I promise.”

You didn’t want to question him, not when his firm chest felt so warm and so right under the side of your face. You wrapped your arm around his torso and tangled your legs with his, and just like that all the worries that were building the anxious wall of thoughts in your head throughout the day turned into dust as you let yourself to doze off.

Now, as you hear the sound of water coming to a halt, the bed started seeming too big for you. You tossed and turned until eventually your face was buried in a pillow on the other side. The fabric smelled too much of an expensive detergent and too little of what you actually craved.

“Liar,” you mumbled to yourself and started rolling on the bed in the direction of the bathroom. Near the edge of the bedframe, you noticed there was a silken bathrobe with a belt attached to it. Judging by the size, it was meant for you. As you raised your upper body from the mattress you couldn’t keep a sudden whine slipping from your lips. Your entire body was protesting against anything that involved you getting out of a horizontal position, but your persistence got the upper hand eventually. You slipped yourself into the bathrobe, loosely tying the ends of the belt around your torso and started walking in the direction of the light in adjoined room.

When you walked in you were greeted with the sight of Sylus’ backside clad in nothing but a white fluffy towel, as he was bending over the sink spitting out the remnants of the toothpaste. Crossing your arms you leaned against the doorframe as you took in the absolute eye candy that was now on display.

“A fruit vendor with a bakery business on the side I see,” you thought to yourself as a wicked smile was now sprawling across your face. With a view like that there wasn’t a slither of sleep left in your eyes. You were so mesmerized by the way the towel dipped and curved around his ass you didn’t notice that the man himself was now looking at you in the mirror, smiling as if he were a cat that caught a little mouse.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, straightening up and putting the toothbrush inside the hidden compartment behind the mirror.

“How did you kn—” your teasing response got caught in your throat when your eyes landed on Sylus’ back.

It was red. Screaming, angry, violent red. You uncrossed your arms and straightened yourself. You couldn’t do that? Right? You scratched at him in the heat of the moment but it was only a couple of times, not a hundred! But to counter these arguments the evidence was right in front of you. There wasn’t a single patch of skin on his back that didn’t bear your marks. Everything, from his broad sinewy shoulders down to the small of his back had lines, upon lines, upon lines left by your expressive fingers. You scanned it one more time, noticing there was no blood and a part of your mind calmed down a little. But the other part... Oh, it started eating at your very soul.

You took a step closer; your eyes didn’t leave his back for a second. The sight was so agonizing you couldn’t even blink. You stretched out your hand to trace along these lines but caught yourself before your fingers made contact with his skin.

“Sylus...” you began, your voice quiet, shaky. You could feel your eyes watering but you mentally slapped yourself across the cheek. This wasn’t about you. This was about what you have done to him and you had no right to cry. “I am so... So sorry. This— I never meant... You should have said something! I—”

Suddenly, you no longer saw the reddened skin in front of you, instead you were looking at his chest, but even that wasn’t for long, because he gently pulled you by your chin so you would meet his eyes.

“Stop that,” a command, solid and unyielding, yet spoken with the softest and gentlest of voices. “Don’t you dare.”

It was as if you couldn’t hear him. Words started spilling out like a wildfire after catching a stray spark, “Do they hurt? Why didn’t you stop me? I shouldn’t have... This is bad. So bad. I promise I’ll be more careful, please, forgive—”

You couldn’t finish your plea, because your words were caught by the thing your heart cherished the most — the feeling of his lips on yours. This kiss was brief and to the point, its sole purpose to get you to stop talking and it proved to be effective, because now Sylus finally had a say.

“If you apologize to me one more time, I’ll get mad, and you don’t want to see me in such a state, kitten,” his tone was not one bit teasing. He meant what he said, you could see it in his eyes, so you closed your mouth and just gaped at him. You weren’t scared, but there was a part of you that still felt guilty and Sylus sensed it. He rubbed your chin with his fingers and let his gaze soften, while his eyes followed down your body clad in the bathrobe he left out for you. With a simple hum he maneuvered you to stand in front of the mirror, with him behind you. Droplets of water were clinging to his biceps and neck, and you watched him wrap his hands around your torso as he started fiddling with the silken belt around your waist.

“You are so quick to make assumptions, kitten,” his voice had none of that commanding attitude left, instead it took on a more velvety and sultry quality that made you feel weak in your knees. “Seeing my body marked as yours and immediately jumping to a conclusion that I wouldn’t want it being branded as such?”

His hands undid the belt of the robe and it parted slightly, revealing a thin line of your nude form in the mirror. Sylus bent down and put his head on your left shoulder, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You humour me, darling,” he huffed at your neck and straightened back up. “Let me ask you something.”

His hand turned your head to the side with a gentle push of his fingers against your chin, “Do you want me to apologize for this as well?”

When you were finally able to tear your eyes from his and look at your neck the air inside your lungs got trapped. A crimson red circle nestled itself comfortably between your neck and clavicle, and another one, but smaller, was right under it.

“And this?” Sylus’ hand gripped at the side of your robe that covered your chest and pulled it to the side. The skin of your right breast had a hickey and two distinctive bite marks, and the nipple seemed to be a darker shade than usual. When he bared your chest fully, sliding the robe off your shoulders, you saw a trail of love bites and red marks sprawled in a beautiful map all over your upper body and a shaky breath left your mouth.

“What about this?” Sylus gathered your robe and tugged it down to fall onto the floor, forgotten. He traced the marks on either side of your hips that resembled his fingers in a splatter of maroon hues and then he pulled at your inner thigh, prodding you to open your legs to reveal a bite that was blooming in a ruby red just below your cunt. “Your skin comes to its most tender when we’re away from each other for too long. Should I be begging for your forgiveness for all of this, my darling?”

“No,” the answer came naturally to you and so quick it subconsciously made you question things about yourself. Refusing his apology seemed easier than the act of breathing. Every mark on your body was telling you a story of the lovemaking you experienced with the man you so dearly missed during one of the busiest work weeks of your life. The one above your right nipple was when he uttered the very first proclamation of love that evening and the one above your hip, he gave you after he repeated himself for the fifth time. The bite on your inner thigh came when you were thrashing in his hands while he seemed to be devouring you whole, and by biting he attempted to persuade you to remain still. The traces of his fingers on either side of your hips were given to you when he grasped at your form as he fucked his release into you for the second time in a row, and you could have sworn this is what heaven would feel like if you were destined to see one. If you could frame this and put it on the wall, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Pulling you out of your trance, Sylus kissed you lightly on the shoulder, “Do you get it now? The marks you leave are my most prized possessions at the moment.”

His nose was now buried in your neck, as he breathed in your essence. The way he described it was so close to what you felt inside, but to you... All of the marks he left were just there. Even if they caused you any discomfort, they made you feel at home. The absolute massacre on his back couldn’t come anywhere near this feeling, right?

As if he could sense the formation of bubbling self-loathing thoughts dimming the brightness of this moment Sylus locked his eyes with yours once again.

“Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it, I have no other choice but to prove my stance on the matter,” with that he spun you around and hoisted you up by the hips, making your rear land on a marble table adjoined with the sink. You yelped at the sudden change in positions, but still wrapped your legs around him almost instinctively.

“What are you doing?” your hands remained to either side of your legs while the man caressed your waist and back.

“I’m going to fuck you now and you are going to enjoy every second,” the bluntness of his words caught you off guard. He seemed amused by the way your eyes were blown wide, so he chuckled before continuing.

“I will make you claw at my back again even if it is the last thing I do on this damned planet, kitten. After all, there’s no such thing as too much treasure,” he started kissing your neck and guided your hand from the table to rest on his shoulder. When your fingertips met the hot skin of his back it was like someone emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over your head.

“Sylus, no!” you snatched your hand away from his grasp and put it on his chest, pushing firmly. “Those are too fresh, I don’t want to cause you pain!”

“The only pain I feel right now,” he held your hand and pushed it in the centre of his chest, “is here. The pain of my beloved refusing to ruin me.”

“Sylus, please...”

“Stop worrying and let me make you feel good,” the look in his eyes was full of love and raw unparalleled need. “Will you?”

He pushed himself between your thighs and when you looked down you could see the front of the towel bulging around his crotch. Did he get all riled up this quickly?

“Seeing your body adorned with my marks makes me want to leave even more of them. I just wish you’d return the sentiment,” the words were practically purred against your ear and if you weren’t wet and ready before, you definitely were now. He nuzzled his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply, and then he strayed lower, to the side of you neck that had the most of the marks. Before you could even think about containing your strangled moan it left your mouth in a breathy sensual manner, as he attached his lips to the reddened spot that was already there. As he sucked and nibbled at it, you put the heels of your feet into his back, pulling him flash against your bare cunt.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, dear?” The mark he disturbed was blurring your mind and you had to take a deep breath to focus your eyes on the surroundings.

Oh, also that feigned innocence in his voice made your blood boil. There he stood in all his glory, grinding his hard length against you, making you whine and hunger for more. The towel around his hips was surely ruined with how slick you were. You pushed yourself impossibly close to him and moved your hips, both hands now resting on his chest.

“If there’s something you desire, you need only ask,” he whispered in your ear and you went limp. How does he manage to pull at every possible string to unravel you in the span of a few minutes? This man was out of this world.

“Take this off,” your hand went down his abdomen and tugged at the white cotton cloth.

“Ah, I see, someone’s eager,” Sylus smiled down at you smugly and quickly undid the knot, finally freeing his erect length out of its confines.

“Yes, you are,” with that you wrapped your hand around his girthy hard cock and started leisurely pumping it up and down. The few drops of precum were forming at the very tip and you eagerly used whatever lubrication they provided. Sylus hissed at your little torture and bucked his hips into your hand ever so slightly, before he suddenly let out that rich, delicious laugh.

“As much as I love you doing that, this is not the part of my body I need your hands on now,” he swiftly freed himself from your grasp and started pulling your hand upwards. Your fingers brushed a splatter of white hair that were trailing up to his navel, then his hard abs, then it was his pecs, flexing enticingly and after followed the beautiful curve and dip of his clavicle and neck. And, when your hand reached the back of his shoulder, your body stilled.

“I think my kitten needs something else to focus on,” his hand left yours to stay flat on the top of his shoulder and then he moved his own south, between your bodies pressed tightly against each other. When the tips of his fingers touched your clit you grasped at his shoulder tightly, while your other hand flew to his bicep instead. “So wet for me, good girl.”

Sylus flicked at your bundle of nerves, drawing fast, hard circles around it before dipping his hand lower, allowing himself to sink into your welcoming heat with just a single finger at first. When your walls flattered around him and your head got thrown back, you found yourself pressed into his other hand, as he cradled the back of your head, not letting it come into contact with the cold wall behind.

“Careful there, sweetie,” he murmured as his ring finger joined his middle one in stretching you out. Every thrust of his hand felt like torture, his thumb circled your clit drawing more and more whimpers out of your mouth and Sylus just watched. Drinking in every expression, every emotion, every twitch of your face contorting in pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside you, prodding at that sweet spot, you had to pull every ounce of self-control to not dig your fingernails into his exposed skin. Instead, you dragged your hand into a fist and bit you lip.

“Oh, no, that won’t do,” he lowered his head and bit down on your neck, hard and angry. You wailed in his embrace, walls cramping around his digits as your hips were trying to get more friction than he was providing, but the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin like a honey comb made your insides tremble.

“Sylus! Sylus, ah, please!”

“Hm,” he raised his head and looked at you through half-lidded eyes incredulously. “What was that, kitten? Do you want me to stop?”

At that you put the hand on the back of his head and pushed it against the other side of your neck, “Again. Do this again.”

“But you were screaming just now, I thought I accidentally hurt you, my sweet,” the sarcasm that was dripping from his voice almost made you snarl. What an arse. You pulled at his head again and crushed his lips into yours. Not wasting any time, you plunged your tongue into his mouth, lapping hungrily, while your hips kept riding his hand. Sylus chuckled against your lips, but complied and engaged in the dance you initiated. The hand he kept behind your head was slowly withdrawn, allowing you to cool against the marble wall, while he grasped at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your hands remained still, caging his neck but not moving, only caressing his soft skin, and Sylus realized that you were still holding onto that wicked idea of restraining your primal urges. This annoyed him to no end, so he started parting his fingers within you, stretching your walls that were so snuggly enveloping him in their warmth. The moan you let out when you felt it almost made him spill right that moment and it took an insane amount of self-control to prevent it. He growled in your neck when his hips twitched, and the head of his cock prodded against your glistening folds. But what actually grounded him in that moment was the sensation of your hand, dragging between his shoulder blades. There. He had you.

Even though it was just the position of your hand and no actual pressure, he knew that you were close to caving in. He just needed to use the right push. He gave your clit a few more circles with his thumb and freed his hand from its warm prison and the disappointed huff you let out was easily the sweetest thing he ever heard.

“You are being mean,” you whined looking up at him, not even realizing that both of your hands were now touching his back.

Sylus raised the hand he was pleasuring you with to his lips and opened his mouth. The way he started slowly sucking at the slender digits put you in a sort of trance. Even if a wanderer burst through a near wall, screaming and wailing, you wouldn’t be able to tear your gaze away from his blissed-out expression as he tasted your wetness on his fingers. This was diabolical, filthy, lewd and so. damn. sexy.

When he was satisfied with the clean appearance of his hand, he freed his mouth and looked down at you hungrily, “I wish you could see yourself right now, sweet thing. You look absolutely ravishing.”

“Ravish me, then,” you called, you voice coming out more needy than you intended.

“Bold kitten. I like that,” he lowered his head and pressed a chaste peck on your lips. “But I need you to promise me something before I comply.”

“Anything,” if he wanted the world, you would give it to him. If he wanted the world to burn, you would char it until nothing but ashes remained.

“Do not,” he looked down and took his cock in one hand, positioning it right at your entrance, “hold yourself,” the tip smeared against your folds, getting coated with a good layer of slick that covered them, “back.”

When he finished the phrase you choked on a sob, eyes wet, and round, and pleading, “I won’t, I promise. Sylus, I need to feel you, please. Please…”

“Alright then,” and finally, finally you felt it, inch by agonizing inch of his hard member entering your greedy pussy. There was no point in containing your moans, not with him. You pressed your forehead against his, seeing his eyes pinned to the sight of your body stretching out to accommodate his girth. That in itself was a work of art for him, your body a perfect fit. When he bottomed out, he felt your hands on his back digging into his skin ever so slightly and in that moment, he swore he could see stars.

“Remember, darling, you promised,” suddenly his hands were on your hips and his eyes were locked with yours. He started pulling his cock out slowly, almost lazily, before slumming his hips back inside with a hard thrust. And still, your hands remained motionless, even when your eyes rolled back in extasy. That wasn’t enough. He needed more. Sylus put his other hand on your breasts, massaging it and making your nipple pebble, then he dipped his head and sucked it into his mouth. Your walls spasmed around his cock and the sensation made him straighten back up to look into your eyes.

“You are so fucking tight, sweetie,” he breathed out heavily. “So fucking good for me.”

“Sylus, please…”

“What is it, my heart?”

“Harder…” was all you could manage to say. The way he was rocking your world with every movement should have left an impression of being “too much” if someone were to look upon the two of you, but in reality, it was hardly enough. The hunger you felt for this man could never be satiated, not even when you felt like his cock was sure to pierce you all the way to your throat.

He laughed, one of your favourite sounds to come from him, second only to that little moan you once heard him letting out when he fucked you from behind.

“Insatiable little thing,” he left your breast alone and pressed the tips of his fingers to your clit instead. The pace he built was brutal, not fast, just brutal. With every thrust he seemed to enter deeper and deeper. “You are not holding up to your end of the deal, my love. I don’t want your nails digging into your palms,” he took one of your hands, tugging it in front of your face. It was true, the hand was clenched in a fist, knuckles white, and it was only then you felt the pain seeping through your skin. Sylus straightened your fingers, his hips not slowing down for a second, and then he placed your hand on his back once again. “Ruin me. Ruin me and I will ruin you.”

You pulled at his head instead and crushed him with your lips. Biting hard, you hungrily sucked on the bottom one as he returned the favour by going for your top lip. He started moving your hips with his hand, letting you fuck yourself on his cock, every vein and ridge made you moan into his mouth. You weren’t kissing him; you were trying to eat this man alive. Merge him with yourself, mould him against your own body so you would never part. He would let you, he would gladly be yours, but at the moment he was quick to figure out the game you were playing. Suddenly, his movements stilled and he tore his lips away from yours. You looked at him, squinting and tugging at his neck once again, but he didn’t budge.

“This is not what I meant,” he exhaled sharply when your walls spasmed around him, urging him to move again, but he persisted, staying still, his dick nestled inside you, torturing you by the lack of motion. “You probably still think that the marks on my back cause me pain. Well, allow me to put your mind at ease, sweetheart. I want to feel it. I want to feel my skin burn every time the fabric of my shirt touches it. I want your marks to sink so deep into my back they never fade away. I need every breath I take to be a reminder of how good I made you feel,” the fervour with which he was saying it made your heart beat faster. “Can you do that for me? Please, darling. Be a good kitten and use,” he pulled himself out of your heat almost entirely, “your,” both of his hands lifted you off the table by your hips, “claws,” and with that last word he quickly hoisted you up and just as quickly he dropped you down on his cock. That new angle alone made the entire room go white; you screamed so loudly it left ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your hands went to steady yourself on his shoulders and when he dropped you down again you lost your balance and fell on him from above. Your hands slipped, and now you were clinging onto his back like a marionette, whose every string was pulled by the very man who was rearranging your insides with every thrust. Your hands gripped, and ripped, and clawed, the cries coming out of your mouth lost all sense and meaning. You screamed every word that came to mind. Please. Yes. There. More. More. More. And then, there was his name. Oh, his name was the most frequent on your lips. And in return you heard your very own called by the deep and demanding tone. Every time your nails scraped at his skin, he hit the spot inside you a little harder, his pelvis rubbing your clit with more precision, so you indulged him.

The deep red of his back went deeper still, as you clung to the only thing that could ground you right now. As you went all in on the expanse of his back, Sylus groaned and stepped towards the wall. One of his hands left your body. He was insanely strong, as he still managed to fuck you up and down on his cock with just one arm. As he cradled your head once again to ensure you wouldn’t hit your head on the impact, he threw the two of you against the wall.

You scratched his back one more time, and his cock bullied its head against your cervix, now hitting impossibly deep within your quivering walls. Then, you buried one of your hands in his silver locks, pulling on them and making his lips pop with a loud noise while you practically dragged him away from your neck. You knew there would be a new mark blooming when the sun rises.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked with a ragged breath and another drag of your nails across the plain of his back. His eyes... Oh, these gorgeous red orbs rolled back in ecstasy and you almost came undone by the sheer sight of pleasure contorting his face.

“Ye— Yes...”

Your pussy cramped around his cock involuntarily. You never had a chance to hear him sound this desperate, this needy, this pathetic. Now that was the hottest thing to be heard, you were certain.

“I’ve ruined you, my love,” you placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, not stopping the rolling motion of your hips, as you rubbed yourself against him. “It’s only fair you return the favour.”

He released the back of your head gently, only to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly, as his lips collided with yours in a fervent, searing kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, moving in and out, matching the pace of his hips, swallowing every moan you had to offer. If you thought the pace he set before was brutal, now it just got downright vicious. You were glad you had a break from work, because tomorrow you won’t be able to stand, let alone walk. Sylus lost himself completely, with your hands now under his arms, clawing at the middle of his back and your lips so soft on his own, he felt not like a man, but a sacrifice. A sacrifice to the most divine creatures of all in his world — you.

The hand on your neck travelled down and down, past the valley of your breasts and your navel, to tangle in a splatter of hair you had above your cunt and then he found you clit, stimulating it with a few flicks of his fingers. Your entire body tensed and you tore yourself away from his lips.

“Sylus! Too... Too much, I can’t—”

“Relax, you can handle it, sweetie. Here, bite down on my shoulder,” you didn’t stop to think about his proposal, you just went for it as his hand guided you lower. In the state you were in right now he could have told you to do a handstand and you would oblige. You sank your teeth into his skin and it did help you steady your spinning mind, but the groan that fell from Sylus’ lips went straight down to your soaked cunt. The release that had been building up in your lower stomach for quite some time suddenly erupted, and hot tears fell from your eyes as you felt his hips stutter. Your walls spasmed, and clenched, and begged for him to fill you up, while his cock dragged, and moved, and prayed for them to keep on going. In that silent exchange of pleas, you found yourself limp against his moving form, but still desperately clinging to his body. He kept rubbing your clit to prolong the waves of orgasm that shook you. You dropped your head on his shoulder, one hand in his hair, soothing your man tenderly and the other still on his back.

“I’m close,” he huffed through gritted teeth and you knew it was true, because his thrusts had grown erratic and unpredictable.

“Please, Sylus,” you whispered in his ear. “Please, come inside me. I need to feel you. Now,” you dragged your hand from his left shoulder to the right, leaving a new trail of red lines on his back and that was enough for Sylus to press you flat against the wall as he emptied himself inside your flattering cunt. He was coming for a long time, probably the longest you’ve ever felt him come and it inflated your ego to a whole new level. He filled you so deliciously, the warmth that bloomed inside your stomach made the world around you spin. When he finally stilled, dump forehead pressed against your shoulder, you cooed and kissed him on the temple.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice rasp from all the screams he had pulled out of your sore throat. You felt the mess you made between the two of you, because his release was now dripping from your hole, still stretched around his softened length.

“No, darling, thank you,” he kissed you tenderly on the mouth and brow, before looking deep into your eyes.

You were standing there in each other’s embrace, eyes locked in the soft and quiet exchange of love. You smiled and he licked his lips, looking at you, mesmerized. That was your favourite part of having sex with Sylus. The moments after. In the fading heat of pleasure, the flares of love you shared were almost palpable. When he shifted ever so slightly under you, you winced. Yes, in the fading heat there was also the aftermath of your activities to consider, because your plump and tender folds seemed to be screaming for a break.

Sylus saw the expression on your face and caressed your cheek slowly with a thumb, “I’m going to pull out now, brace yourself on my shoulders and I’ll carry you to a bath.”

You did as he bid you and soon you found yourself seated in a bubbly warm water, while Sylus hugged you from behind, tenderly washing away any sweat and cum that still remained on your body. When he washed between your thighs, he was extremely careful, whispering sweet things into your ear, pulling all of your attention to his words, and not the tingling sensation that gathered there. You were still sore and he couldn’t allow you to seduce him into another round, for your own sake.

“I want to wash your back,” you said after a while. He hummed and pushed you away from him, so he could turn around and kneel in the bath. When you saw his skin, your jaw dropped. Every line, every scratch and every mark screamed ‘mine’ scribbled in your writing. The pang of guilt still remained, nestled deep within your heart, but it wasn’t as loud as when you first entered the bathroom. Now, to counter it there were the sounds Sylus made as he slammed you harder into the wall every time you touched his back, and that little “Yes” that he whimpered… Some day this will be your undoing.

You ran the water from the shower head nearby, cold and soothing, and he murmured something about it feeling nice. You gingerly patted his shoulders, the middle of his back and then lower, as the markings turned light pink. You tried to hold yourself off, but the urge to kiss them was stronger, so you lowered your head attaching your lips to the centre of his back, tenderly.

“Kitten…”

There it was, that smooth voice you would die for.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring my work.”

His head snapped to the side as he tried to catch your eyes with his, attempting to find a single hint of lying, but there was none. It was true, the idea of him being in any sort of discomfort because of you still rubbed you the wrong way, but the fact that he himself enjoyed it. This allowed you to enjoy it a tiny bit as well.

The two of you got out of the shower some time later, Sylus wrapped you in a towel and directed you to find another bathrobe in the closet he specifically filled with every possible thing you could have a need to wear. You picked the white nightgown and a robe that was going all the way to your ankles, foregoing the underwear. Who knows, the night is still young.

Sylus came out of the shower completely naked, drying his hair with a towel. As he entered his closet and secured a bathrobe with a belt he walked up to you, a soft smile on his lips, “Are you hungry? It dawned on me I haven’t fed you anything since you stepped into the N109 zone.”

“Well, technically, you did feed me something,” you teased, reminiscing the way he had you on your knees earlier that evening.

A throaty laugh reverberated in a dimly lit room, “That can hardly count as nourishing, sweetie. Come, I’ll cook something for you.”

As you were sitting on a kitchen counter Sylus sliced at vegetables and herbs he planned to add to the meat that was searing on the stainless steal skillet, periodically checking on the water he left to boil for pasta. You hummed the lines of the song that has been stuck in your head for a while…

“Through the cold, I’ll find my way back to you… Oh, please, give me mercy no more…”

Your melodic singing was abruptly cut by a grating assault on the next set of notes, “That’s a kindness you can’t afford…”

You decided to let the singing part slide and instead focused your attention on the line Sylus chimed in with, “You know this song?”

“That’s my favourite one on the album,” the smile on his lips was almost suggestive, as he dropped a box of farfalle into the boiling water.

“You’re kidding!”

“No, he’s not,” two voices cut in. The twins marched into the kitchen with Mephisto flying in after them. The bird landed on a table and cawed loudly.

“He blasts it each time it comes on queue,” Kieran said matter-of-factly.

“Boss, the deal is done.”

“Yeah, we gathered all the intel you required, the papers are in your office.”

“Good,” Sylus tossed the vegetables in for a sauté. “Wash your hands now, the two of you.”

“Oooh! You’re our chef tonight! What’s for dinner?” Luke hopped to Sylus’ side on one foot. Despite the fact that these two were dealing with some dangerous things on the daily, they seemed to be still very childish and carefree; you found it endearing.

Kieran walked up to you and said, “Bossman loves to sing that particular song in the shower. See, the vents go right under my room, so I know what I’m talking about.”

You almost choked on the water you were sipping. Good thing the twins were out for business, because them hearing what you and Sylus had been up to in his shower was the last thing you’d want.

“Ahem, wow, poor you,” you said, setting the glass down.

“Poor? Kitten, he should count himself lucky! I don’t often give off private concerts.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky alright,” Kieran said aloud before adding a strangled whisper only for you to hear, “Lucky to survive.”

“Remind me to cut your allowance in half,” of course Sylus heard that.

“No need, bossman, your voice is my favourite sound to wake up to,” Kieran said it so sweetly you almost believed it yourself.

You stifled a laugh and watched the twins leaving the room, presumably to change and wash their hands. When Sylus served the three of you the dinner, he so attentively prepared, you finally realized how hungry you were. The plate was clean within minutes. When everyone was done with their supper the twins started working on cleaning the kitchen while the two of you watched as Mephisto walked from one end of the table to the other, cawing every so often. When the bird walked up to Sylus he patted its head with his finger.

“Thanks for assistance, buddy, she appeared here according to your meticulous calculations,” he whispered under his breath.

“Hey, I heard that! So you did sent him after all!”

“Guilty as charged,” Sylus laughed, mockingly throwing his hands up in the air. “Are you cross with me, sweetheart? There’s always a way for you to take it out on me.”

His right hand reached across his chest and Sylus patted himself on the back. Your cheeks turned bright red.

“Animal,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it, sweetie.”

“Seriously? I thought we gave you enough time,” Luke cried from the side of the sink.

“Don’t eavesdrop!” Kieran hit him on the head with a wooden spoon and the two of you sitting at the table burst out laughing at their banter.

When Sylus and you retreated back to his room you collapsed on the bad exhausted, the soreness between your thighs finally let itself known and you complained loudly.

“I have a few things in mind that could ease the pain,” Sylus suggested cheekily.

“Do any of these things involve your face buried between my legs?” you asked settling yourself comfortably as Sylus spooned you.

“A couple of them do, after all I haven’t had any dessert after such a filling dinner,” he murmured in your ear.

“Sounds tempting but right now I just want to sleep. Don’t leave my side,” the last sentence was a command and it made the man chuckle.

“As you wish. Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”

“No, I’m free till twenty-fifth,” you mumbled.

“Oh, that means we’ve got the whole week!”

“Yeah, that will get my hole weak,” the words fell from your mouth before you could catch them. Damn the internet and damn those witty comments.

“What was that?” he laughed in your ear and you squirmed.

“Nothing! Go to sleep!”

“Alright, alright. But as soon as we wake up, I’ll start planning a quick getaway for us, just you and me. You deserve a break after all the work they’ve put you through,” he kissed the top of your head. “Sweet dreams, kitten.”

“Good night, my love…” those were the last words you uttered, blissfully content with the feeling of the warm body pressed against yours from behind. The marks on your skin were tingly and hot, but they felt like a map leading to the discovery of your treasured love, whose soft breath was landing on your head every other moment and whose hands were holding you like you were the most important thing in the whole wide world. So, you didn’t mind them. You didn’t mind at all.

A/N p.2.: is sylus a masochist? idk don't ask me. well, he did ask mc to kill him once, just saying.

© All rights reserved. You DO NOT have my permission to translate, plagiarize, copy, modify, republish my work or repost it on any other platform in any way.

[key201303]

Sylus x f!reader

Pairing: Husband!Sylus x F!Reader ft. Luke and Kieran

Warnings: pure fluff, but suggestive at the end

Plot: You come back home to find your husband playing tea time with the twins, Mephisto and your 4 year old daughter.

A/N: a few days ago I asked you guys what if I started writing with LADS boys and you seemed to like the idea so here I am 🥰 I was needing something really soft with Sylus and came up with this, hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻

“Would you like some more tea Your Majesty?” Kieran’s voice caught your attention when you entered the base. You’ve been out the entire day on a mission, trying to find a Wanderer the Association has been tracking for some time now. You were used to coming home to the voice of your little daughter playing in her room with Mephisto and her plushies but hearing Kieran’s voice coming from your daughter’s room was unusual.

Once you removed your shoes and jacket, you looked around the place, looking for your husband to ask what were the twins doing with your little girl. But for some reason he was nowhere to be seen. “Did he have to leave for some meeting and left Kieran and Luke taking care of our princess?” You thought to yourself while you walked towards the girl’s room.

Right before you could open the door to take a look, a very familiar voice was interrupted by the mechanical noise Mephisto’s wings made when he flew around. “Princess, I think 15 stickers are enough to decorate Mephisto.” Sylus told the little girl who was excitedly placing a new glittery sticker on Mephisto’s head. You slowly opened the door, trying to go unnoticed so you could find out what was going on. Once you could see inside the room, you couldn’t help your heart melting at the lovely image you had in front of yourself.

Mephisto was covered in glittery stickers with it’s nails painted in light pink, Sylus face was covered in rainbow little stones your daughter asked you thousand of times to get, two little ponytails decorating his silvery hair, fake nails trying their best to not fall off the twin’s gloves as they were sipping imaginary tea on an empty cup with their pinky fingers up and a lively pink feather scarf decorating their necks. And last but not least, your daughter having her princess dress and crown, being the head of the little tea table Sylus probably agreed on moving from the living room and having the best time of her life.

You tried to hold back your laughter at the sight of the little scene you had before you, not wanting to interrupt their little moment. But you completely failed when Sylus made eye contact with you. He definitely didn’t look as the bad boy he pretended to be for everyone else with those two little ponytails and face covered in rainbow glitter. “Look who’s finally back from work.” He said standing up and walking towards you, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Momma!!!” Your daughter screamed, getting up from the floor and running to your arms. “I see you guys were having lot of fun while I was gone.” You said as you hugged her tightly, lifting her up on your arms. “Daddy accepted playing tea time with us! And he even let me play with Mephie!!” She said excitedly. You looked at your husband with an eyebrow raised, surprise written all over your face. “Baby I told you his name is not Mephie.” Sylus said, taking your little girl from your arms, nuzzling his nose in her stomach making her laugh at the ticklish feeling. “Maybe I should punish the one who taught you to call him Mephie.” He added giving you a playful look. “Don’t do that!! I’ll protect mommy!!” Your daughter said, taking your husband’s face into her little hands, forcing him to look at her and squishing his cheeks. “Oh really??” He said, his voice muffed due to his daughter squishing his cheeks.

He put your daughter down, getting in position to fight. Your daughter ran in front of you, trying to cover you with her tiny body. Her fierce red eyes pierced her father’s heart, the same way his eyes did to yours. You couldn’t help thinking they were definitely a copy of each other. “Uncle Luke, Uncle Kieran, in whose side are you?” The girl asked with a threatening voice. The twins exchanged a hesitant look before standing up. “We will always serve you Your Majesty.” They said bowing and kneeling in front of you and your daughter. Sylus’ face turned into a defeated face when he saw his right and left hand betray him for his own daughter. “Mephie?” You asked, returning the playful look at Sylus from before. The mechanical crow squawked as he flew to land on Sylus’ finger. He let out a victorious laugh.

Your daughter, not accepting the betrayal of the little crow, takes out some of Mephisto’s favorite snack, taking it out for him to notice. “Hey Mephie, don’t you want some snacks?” She said, calling and convincing the little animal. Mephisto happily squawks, flying towards her hand. “That’s cheating Miss Traitor.” Sylus said, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows clearly annoyed.

Only then a little battle started between you, Sylus took your daughter in his arms, turning her upside down and tickling her. “Dad wait!! I can’t- I can’t breathe.” She said laughing loudly, trying to get rid of her dad’s embrace.

You loved these little moments. These little moments when you couldn’t help feeling you all were a normal family. These moments where Sylus acted like a lovely caring dad instead of the cruel leader of Onychinus everyone thought he was.

Once your daughter’s energy was under low, you finally tucked her in bed and walked to your room where your husband was already waiting for you in bed. “Did you have fun?” You asked as you get in bed and laid in his arms. “Did you have any doubts?” He said, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Answering a question with another question? I thought you weren’t that kind of person.” You said, hugging him tighter, leaning even further into his embrace if that was possible. “There are so many things I do you would be surprised about, kitten.” He said laughing. He definitely demonstrated you that side today.

You both stayed quiet for a little while. His long slender fingers drawing random patterns on your bared skin arm, nuzzling your hair, taking in your delicious scent that never failed to lull him to sleep. But before he decided it was time for you two to sleep, he smiled out of the blue. Sensing his sudden smile, you get off his chest, looking at him with a confused look. “I was just thinking… Maybe we should give our princess a little prince to play with so Mephie and the twins don’t have to wear tons of stickers and glitter.” Your husband said teasingly. His crimson eyes shine beautifully, moon shaped, mimicking his lips that remained as a huge smile. “I thought you didn’t like the nickname Mephie.” You teased, ignoring the fact of him asking you for another son. “You’re really good at avoiding topics.” Sylus said, pecking your lips and laughing in between.

[fallingsohard]

“i wouldn't call it a brilliant deduction really... more like an obvious one.” now he was just taking the piss, practically walking circles around the other to see if he would budge. the truth was that what hunter was accusing kieran of is something hunter does all too often. he's a natural born flirt. even when he doesn't mean to flirt, it comes off that way. he works at a damn sex shop, for crying out loud. flirting with customers so they can buy products they might never even use again is basically second nature to him. he was also the worker with the most sales and commission and he was only there part time, so that should tell you everything you need to know. “oh, i can definitely see the sleep deprivation.” despite his words, the grin only deepens, instantly matching kieran's teasing tone. at his following statement, hunter begins nodding his head, a feigned hurt expression taking place on his soft features. “okay, i can get behind the rejected boy band line up... but a cigarette ad?” a hand is placed over his heart, eyes shutting for dramatic effect. “that one hurt. i'll have you know i don't even smoke. not cigarettes, not even weed.” it was true. he hated marijuana because of the munchies, the idea of unnecessary hunger not sitting right with him. even edibles were avoided like a plague. cigarettes were just disgusting to him as a whole, so that was an obvious no. “come on kieran. your words say one thing, but your sleep deprived eyes and resting bitch face say another.” he has to bite onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from laughing right there.

kieran's eyebrows shot up. honestly, he’d just come in for batteries. maybe a laugh. definitely not this. "oh, yeah? that's your brilliant deduction?" he said with mock curiosity. "man, that's just my face. been told i've got resting bitch face—slightly judgmental with a side of sleep deprivation." the teasing came naturally, a well-practiced defense against the uncomfortable truth that maybe, just maybe, hunter wasn't entirely wrong. not that he would ever admit it. "look, i'm not flirting. i'm just… observing. trying to remember where i saw you before. some… cigarette ad? rejected boy band lineup?" he joked, letting his gaze casually flick over hunter.

[sunnypopoki]

— 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ; P.3

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘒𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

Р.2 / Р.4

Kieran stared at the classroom filled with other fifteen-year-olds. Already, they seemed to fit the stereotypes he always saw on tv back in Russia; jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, and more. It was true that none of them had uniforms. At least that was one good thing, he wouldn't feel stuffy in some uniform.

Scanning the classroom, he paused when he noticed a girl in the back of the class. Her head was crammed into a notebook, cheek against the paper, as she wrote something down. Wasn't that pose hurting her neck? Why was she so close to the paper? She wasn't taking in the teacher's information while Kieran was waiting to be introduced. The class was chaos in a nutshell and all the students were chattering so loud that his ears were going to fall off.

"Now class, all of you need to pay attention to this!" the teacher huffed, clapping her hands, "come on! pay attention. Unless you all want some homework over the weekend!"

It was like magic. At the mere mention of homework, the entire class stopped talking. He bit the inside of his cheek when all the eyes in the room were suddenly on him. A few girls giggled, some boys leaned forward in their seats, and some gave him sweet smiles. He already hated all of them. Why did they stare at him like he was a new exhibit in a zoo?

The girl in the back of the class raised her head, wincing and rubbing the back of her neck. There was a sparkle in her eye and Kieran pursed his lips. She seemed to be one of the annoying chatter-box girls with that happy look.

"Today we are introducing a new student to our class, Kieran. Be nice, he just transferred here from London, so he might have to get used to how this school works for a bit," the teacher beamed at him, "why don't you go sit beside (Y/N)? She's a good student, she will help you with anything you need."

The class burst into welcomes, giddy excitement, and questions. Kieran had a gut feeling that they were only acting this way because he was a foreigner. He was aware that if they knew he was Russia, they would either be interested in his culture or racist about it. His father warned him that a lot of people were mean to Russians at times just because of Putin. Sure, not all of them, but he really didn't want to be called a terrorist just because of his ethnicity.

(Y/N), who he realized was the girl in the back, slowly raised her hand. That sparkle in her eye was something much more nervous now. People nudged and whispered at her, glancing at him with giddy eyes. Great. He was going to be stuck to the weird girl who writes like she has a broken neck. He ignored the pestering stares and whispers around the room as he walked to the back of the class and sat next to her. At least her name wasn't obnoxious.

While he desperately ignored her, he noticed the girl glancing at him from the corner of his eye. She gnawed on her bottom lip and her leg bounced up and down, followed by her opening her mouth to say something but then quickly shutting it.

Kieran's father taught him a lot of lessons growing up and one of those lessons was about cowards. The Morozov family wasn't fond of people who couldn't speak their minds, at least that was what his father told him, because cowards often ruined business. Of course, Kieran wasn't allowed to know a lot about his father's job, but he went ahead and applied that advice to this situation. He didn't understand why she was stammering so much and why her eyes bored holes into the side of his head. Was she just dumb? Maybe a dumb coward? His eye twitched and he leaned against his palm.

Finally, she managed to speak up.

"Uhm—do you... do you want to share my textbook for this class? I see you don't have yours yet. We are learning exponential equations," she proposed, "I'm not the best at them yet, but I can teach you what I know so you can get caught up with the class."

"Sure."

(Y/N) was taken aback by his harsh accent. He knew that it was thick. When he lived in London for two years, the private school he was at always had issues understanding what he was saying. This caused a lot of bullying, especially by the posh brats who didn't have anything better to do than flaunt their wealth and complain about how their parents didn't buy them a specific set of shoes for their birthday.

Her eyes lit when she realized he agreed and she quickly fumbled to put her desk next to his, opening her textbook so the two of them could see it. Kieran was glad he was forced to learn English at a young age because who knew he'd be in a situation like this once he got older? He still struggled with English now and again, certain words and sentence structure confused him, but he knew how to read the majority.

Kieran's eyes flickered to the side. (Y/N) was nervously rambling about something, pointing and poking at the page.

In truth, he was surprised she talked to him. His first impression of her was some weird, shy girl who didn't have a social life (even if that was extremely judgmental, he didn't care). The way she wrote in her notebook like some gremlin in the back of the class was enough to give him that impression. However, she seemed kind so far, even if she was jittery and nervous around him. He knew that even if she was some yellow-bellied coward, he'd rather talk to a coward instead of a bitch.

Back when he was a transfer student in London, people who tried to talk to him immediately retreated when they realized they would have a hard time understanding him if they continued the conversation. They had so much fear of putting themselves in an awkward situation that they didn't want to talk to the boy with a thick accent. Not that he cared, most of the time he just wanted to be left alone.

So it was shocking, to say the least, when (Y/N) started asking him questions.

"So, how do you like our school so far?" she beamed, nervously picking at her sleeve, "I hope you haven't met Jenson yet. He's rude to everyone, but I have a feeling he won't be nice to you."

Kieran pursed his lips, muttering, "...ah, well, everyone likes to stare here."

(Y/N) tensed and tilted her head. Ah... he knew that reaction. Did she not understand him? Annoyance bubbled in his chest and he gnawed on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers aggressively against the table. He opened his mouth to repeat himself and—

"Oh, yeah! People stare a lot here, but if you stare back at them, they will look away. I do that sometimes when some of the girls from art class stare at me," she interrupted, "sorry. Your accent is very thick—I mean, I don't mean that in a bad way! Uhm, it just took me a second. It's very pretty!"

Kieran blinked. His mouth clamped back shut and he awkwardly shifted in his seat, glancing away from her. "It's fine."

His hands stopped tapping at the table and he politely placed them in his lap. His ears felt hot and he rolled his shoulders back, doing his best to shake off the sudden awkward itch on the back of his neck. His accent was pretty? Was she just saying that to be nice? His teeth nibbled on his bottom lip.

(Y/N) brought out her notebook and started to doodle on one of the pages. He glanced over and saw that she was drawing a lot of animals on one page. A dog, a cat, an otter, there was a whole plethora of small critters on her page. She started to draw a black cat, absentmindedly containing the conversation, "Was your school in London cool?"

Why is she suddenly drawing a black cat?

He shrugged, "...not really. Posh brats everywhere."

Her eyes lit up. Whatever she was thinking, he didn't have to place it together quickly to understand what she was going to ask him next. "A lot of people in school romanticize British people. It's probably not the nicest thing to do, but I know a lot of girls from the grade above have been talking about visiting London one day. Did you go to a fancy school in London?"

He nodded. "A private school, but I was homeschooled in Russia."

God, he was delighted to be out of that place. Not everyone was rich and snobby in that place, and he knew it was because of their wealth and not where they came from, but he liked to blame it on the fact they were British. Just like he always liked to blame a lot of things Americans did just because of the fact they were American. All of them had shitty food compared to the delights in Russia, at least in his opinion.

"Woah! That's so cool," she looked up at him with a large smile, "where did you live in Russia? "

"Yakutsk," he deadpanned, "a port city on the Lena River."

(Y/N) blinked. She scribbled in the corner of her notebook and made a dark spiraling circle, her lips pulling into a much more awkward grin. "Uhm, did you say Yaktooz? I'm afraid I don't know where that is. If I am honest, I only know of Moscow, and I don't even know where that is."

Kieran's smiled a little bit more. It has been a while since he talked of his home, even if it wasn't the best place to live. He missed the food and the people, but there was a lot he didn't miss either. He shook his head and pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook, writing down the name of his town and then trying to write it down in English. He grumbled and erased it.

"No, it is pronounced Yakutsk," he paused and muttered to himself, "how would an American say it... shit, I don't know how to pronounce it in a way you'd understand."

(Y/N) tilted her head and looked at the page, "can you say it again?"

"Yakutsk."

When written down in Russian, the word looked completely different, something she wouldn't be able to understand at all. The word 'Якутск' stared back at her heavy yet fluid handwriting. She took her pen and tried to copy the Russian letters right under it. It was messy, not fluid, and hesitant handwriting.

"I--I don't think I will be able to say it as cool as you say it. Is it cold where your home is?"

Kieran didn't blame her for not repeating it. She did butcher the pronunciation when she tried the first time, whatever the hell she was trying to say.

"Summers were short and our winters are very cold. Russia is big, so not every place is cold, but Yakutsk is in Siberia. People have named it the coldest city in the world."

The only reason his family lived in that part of Russia was because it was because of the low crime rate and the fact it was easy for people to go missing there. The Lena River was one of the longest rivers in the world, and Kieran knew that his father sometimes took out people who wanted to cause them harm and threw them there. Why did they want to cause his family harm? he didn't know, his father never shared, but only said "You'll understand when you get older."

However, he wasn't naive. He knew that his father did something illegal. It wasn't just his father, but his entire family. They always kept strong peaceful ties with the authority in Russia and his father always managed to have the highest ranking of power to anyone they met. His father was a kind person, he smiled at everyone, and was so polite that it made him sick--but he also knew that scary look he had behind closed doors when he was talking with some of his men.

One day, he would get all the answers. He was still impatient about it though.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. She went back to doodling her cat, humming, "Oh, that's so cool! Do you still have some relatives in Ru—"

"(Y/N), please stop bothering the new student," the teacher snapped and pointed her pen at her, "Kieran is here to learn, not listen to you ramble."

She sank back into her seat and her lips pursed shut. She didn't blush, but by the way her eyes lowered to the floor and her body folded in on itself, she was embarrassed. He stared at her from the corner of his eye while the class burst into giggles and chatter. Some of the other students tried to ask him questions but he ignored them. Instead, he finished the black cat doodle in her notebook, adding a small 'meow' in Russian right next to it.

"Now, everyone pay attention! can someone come up to the board and answer this question?"

Whatever the teacher was saying, he blocked it out. The class went back to doing whatever they were doing, (Y/N) raised her head and doodled a second black cat to go with the first one, and then he added a third. Her doodles were better. When she doodled a pigeon, he was quick to doodle an owl. The rest of the class was spent wasting their time and not paying attention to the board.

Kieran bit his lip to keep his lips from twitching upward. He still would have preferred to be alone, but she wasn't that bad or annoying, and she was so far keeping him from being bored... He supposed he could talk to her a little bit more.

━━━━━━━ ╳ ╳ ╳

Kieran sighed and stopped scribbling on the blank paper on his desk. There were many times when he reminisced, remembering the time he first met (Y/N). It was hard to believe that he didn't like her at first. He didn't understand his past self, how he could have found her bright smile annoying. Now it gave him butterflies each time he thought about it.

Their time spent in school was wild, to say the least. Kieran wasn't the ideal student but he managed to get good grades throughout, good enough that his mother and father didn't scold him when he got home. How ironic that (Y/N) always got the best grades yet somehow her parents never thought it was enough. He licked his teeth at the thought, cursing them under his breath.

He never liked them. He was glad they were out of her life.

They got married six months ago and a couple of her family members were there, but their presence brought down the entire wedding. His family on the other hand were a little bit too loud.

His mother kept cooing and complimenting (Y/N) in Russian each time she had the chance and his father kept telling her baby stories about him. It was embarrassing. His parents adored her, which was good, but they were too adoring at times.

He glanced over at the watch on his desk. It was a gift she gave to him whenever they were in high school. It didn't fit him anymore but he still kept it close, reminding him to be careful and not get shot, because she was waiting at home for him.

Though... something had been off about her.

He knew that she was upset because of him. Kieran was busier than normal, he'd been out of the house more, and he'd been craving her touch. The nights she wasn't with him are the nights he couldn't sleep at all. Did she feel the same way? Was she lonely? God, he felt lonely, and he was the one going out and working all the time.

Not that he could stop. While he was the boss, just throwing away the mafia would get him killed. He had to make sure she was safe and throwing away his job just to be close to her would get her and him killed together. It wasn't like his father was in the States to help protect her either.

His mind flashed back to what happened last night. His expression soured, thinking of the two gang members he found talking to her, and her salty tear-stained cheeks. She was angry at him but didn't want to tell him. She wasn't a good liar, especially when she had an expression of gut-wrenching guilt. Why was she guilty? Did he make her guilty? Fuck, he never wanted to hurt her. He'd rather gut out his intestines and string them up for the crows instead of hurting her.

Kieran tried talking to her about it when they got home, but the conversation didn't go anywhere. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, telling her the truth was more dangerous than lying, but he knew either option was hurting her. He knew she was lying about so many things. She was an open book. There were many times she pretended to be asleep just to avoid him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He needed to find those thugs that talked to her. His ties with the police were beneficial for to the mafia, it kept them off his hide, but maybe they'd know their address when he didn't. He didn't want to go around asking his extra personal contacts for something small like thugs in minor gangs.

He groaned and his head fell into his hands.

God, he missed her.

He missed her scent, her laugh, the way she bites her bottom lip when she's embarrassed, her touch, her panting breaths when he kisses her—Kieran cleared his throat. Thinking about such things at work would leave him with a problem and he didn't want to explain to Sam why he wouldn't leave his office for an hour or two. Yet he couldn't deny that he craved just the brush of her fingers against his arms, his neck, his cheek.

He craved for her body pressed against his. He could imagine it already; (Y/N) cuddled next to him on the couch, watching a horror movie, her hands grabbing whatever they could get ahold of each time she was scared. The feeling of his clothes shifting, the way her body would move, her innocent eyes glancing at him to see his reaction to the movie.

Would she get all embarrassed if he leaned in closer? What sighs would leave her lips if he kissed her neck, caressing her like the goddess she was? God, he'd worship her like a temple, her breath enough to topple him to his knees.

He hissed. His pants suddenly felt tight, unbearably so, and he rubbed at his face. Work was leaving him pent up.

Kieran would be truthful and admit that there were times when it was hard for him to not touch her. All he wanted to do was to cradle her, to make her bend to his touch, to see how pretty she was on top of him... but being a killer didn't mean he was monstrous enough to force her to do something with him. She had to be safe with him, to trust him, so giving in to every horny thought about her wasn't the way to keep her happy, especially since she wasn't ready. He didn't care if she was never ready--she would stay with him forever, even if they weren't intimate.

However, there were times like this. Where the mere thought of her would rile him up, leave him breathless in his office, with no way of having privacy for longer than thirty minutes.

Kieran gritted his teeth as he shuffled in his chair, forcing his mind somewhere else. Somewhere boring. Walking out of his office pent-up was something he didn't want his men to see.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Thank god, a distraction!

Kieran glanced up, sighing whenever he noticed a familiar face peering through the cracked door to his office. Of course, Sam would bother him at a time like this.

"Why didn't you respond to my message?" he snapped, his voice thick with a Italian accent. "You left me on read and everything. I know you are cold, but I didn't expect you to be that cold. We are the only two higher-up immigrants here! We gotta be nice to one another!"

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. He was spouting nonsense again without any context. He should have expected this right when he saw him, he was always doing shit like this. "Come inside and stop talking through the crack of my door. What the hell are you even talking about?”

Sam huffed before barging into the room and shutting the door behind him. He was a short man, about 5'7, but the mass of his muscles compensated for it. He was about ten years older than Kieran but still appeared somewhat youthful. His dreadlocks were pulled into a bun and his colorful clothes only added to his unique and distinctive personality. He flipped the orange sunglasses off his nose and slapped them down on the desk.

"You know what you did, Kieran—

"Boss."

"—Boss!"

Kieran was usually confused each time he talked to Sam. Sam, short for Samuel, was a friend of his father's and someone who was meant to help him with the men underneath him. The Morozov Mafia was a dangerous place to work, especially since it was moved from Russia to the States. His father dragged all his people whenever they moved to both London for two years, and then to the United States. Sam was there throughout it all.

Were they close? Well, they were as close as mafia business partners could get. They recognized the respect between the two, they knew each other from growing up. Hell, Kieran could remember the day Sam turned 22. It was hard to believe that was 8 years ago.

"I don't know what I did," he confessed, "so what are you complaining about now?"

Sam frowned. "I messaged you at around ten yesterday morning and you left me on read. I told you to respond and everything because you didn't tell me where the hell you were after you said you'd meet with me. That's so cold of you, I thought we were like brothers."

"...I wasn't home at ten this morning. I already told you that I got caught up in some shipment yard where Kozlov fucked up and got some petty gang members into our territory."

It was messy work. The shipment yard was moving a box of slaves; people who were in debt with the mafia due to past agreements and refused to pay up. Their fault, they were the ones who decided it was a good idea to make contracts with the mafia when they didn't have the money to pay it all back. So hopefully they'd find some use elsewhere, likely back home in Yakutsk with his father and mother.

Even so, he wasted bullets on gang members. He viewed them as kids, infants with baseball bats and an occasional Glock G19, a common gun that anyone could get in the States if they tried even a little bit. Of course, such guns were sloppy, but that didn't stop one of his men from being shot in the leg. To put it simply, it was humiliating.

"Isn't the app on your phone? Are you sure you didn't glance at it and forgot then?" Sam asked, suddenly piqued in curiosity.

"I didn't."

"...I mean, maybe your wife read—"

"Sam," Kieran warned.

Sam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He sighed and his leg bounced up and down, staring at Kieran with a knowing look. "Then who else would have read the message? You only have that app on your laptop and your phone, which I doubt anyone would go through unless the woman who has access to it, did it. If the systems were hacked, which we'd already know by now if they were, then that'd be an issue. But they aren't."

Kieran glared. Quickly, the issue of being pent up went out the window, doubts starting to cloud his mind. Anxiety filled up his bloodstream like poison.

What would he do if she knew?

How could he keep her safe?

Who would hurt her?

How would he keep her with him?

"I know what you're thinking, but you already know the answer to that," Sam picked up a small candy from the tray, unraveled it, and plopped it into his mouth, "You either drag her in or you throw her out, kid, that's how this business works. Hell, you're lucky the Big Boss loves her so much that he allowed you to marry her."

"Sam," Kieran warned again, his voice tighter, face falling to hide behind his hands as a headache grew.

"I'm just saying! She's probably curious about where you are leaving all the time. You're editor, so of course you meet up with your clients sometimes, but not every goddamn night."

"Poor woman doesn't even have her man there to sleep with her. Who knows, maybe she'll go out and find some other guy—"

Sam stilled whenever he saw the two green eyes peeking out behind Kieran's hands, staring at him with enough intensity to knock the air out of his lungs. Thousands of spiders crawled up his spine and sweat built on his brow. He opened his mouth to fix his mistake, to undo what just slipped out of his mouth, but he couldn't speak. Not whenever the cold eyes of the devil were threatening to swallow him whole.

Kieran was glaring with icy anger. No, it wasn't quite anger. It was hard to explain, whatever look was in his eyes, but Sam had a gut feeling that he wouldn't have any issue placing a bullet in his head if he continued to talk about his wife. The sparkle in his emerald eyes was gone. It was dead, daring, threatening.

The two went way back—but he knew very well that Kieran loved and adored his spouse more than anyone and anything. He was obsessed. She was a drug and each time he was two feet away from her, he started to show cold symptoms of withdrawal. Bloodthirsty withdrawal.

"I—I was just joking boss," Sam backpedaled, "you don't have to look at me like that."

Kieran's eyes narrowed. Like a snake scrutinizing its prey, Sam felt like a mouse about to be served on a dinner plate. He shivered and his hands instinctively crossed his chest in a mere attempt to guard himself. Not like that would work. He was stronger than Kieran, but Kieran also knew martial arts. He could easily slam his head into the table with enough force to watch him choke and bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

"So... anyway, you should—you should talk to your wife. If she saw the message, she probably assumed it was something... indecent."

He needed Kieran to speak. To say something. Because the silence was getting overwhelming and his gaze was drowning him in tar. Hot, sticky tar that made his body break out into a sweat and his lungs clog up each time he shuffled in his seat.

"Fine."

Sam exhaled. He was dizzy, just how long was he holding his breath?

Kieran leaned back into his seat and stopped cradling his head in his hands. He was still on edge, Sam could tell, but at least he wasn't staring at him like he was planning a blood-soaked feast.

"Sam."

He inhaled, "yes?"

"Don't talk about her again."

Sam flinched. His hands wiped at his thighs and he nodded, staring at the gritty concrete under his shoes, "...yes boss. I won't bring her up again."

He was lucky someone ended up knocking on the door.

Kieran's face fell into indifference whenever a runt knocked on the door. He called for them to come in and soon a hairy man, clear of all common mafia tattoos, scurried in. He lowered his head and nervously tugged at his beard. He was shaking. Sam and Kieran leaned forward in their seats, picking up the strange atmosphere.

"Sorry to bother you, boss," the man choked out, "but some members from Leovana are here. They—They said they have a gift and message for you from, uh, from their boss."

Sam's eyes widened. He glanced over to Kieran, noticing the emotionless facade he was wearing. Why did he seem so nonchalant about it? The damn CEO of Leovana was their known enemy, even if he wasn't in any close mafia groups. He was a standing pillar who somehow continued to stay upright even when he was in a field of mafia men. It wasn't normal for a random CEO and his business to stand tall even in situations like this.

"What's the gift?" Kieran deadpanned.

"They didn't say."

"What's it held in?"

"A small box, boss."

Sam chewed on his bottom lip. He doubted it was a bomb, the bastard wasn't that tactless. However, Kieran looked like his head was going to explode based on how much he was rubbing his temples. He sighed and shrugged the anxiety off his shoulders, turning to face the man before Kieran had to say anything.

He didn't. Instead, Kieran pushed up from his desk and fixed his undid his messy bun into a low ponytail. He brushed a couple of strands from his face and walked to the door. Sam had a gut feeling that he was planning something, like usual, but it was going to be gorey this time.

"Sam, you're coming with me."

He grabbed his sunglasses off the table and put them back on. "Aye Aye."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RANDOM KIERAN FUN FACTS

• Kieran makes the MC food every morning each time he can. Sometimes he makes it before he leaves at night and puts it in the fridge so she can warm it up later. The only times he doesn't make breakfast is when he's away for days.

• Kieran got his first tattoo before age ten for mafia purposes. It's the symbol of his family's group.

• Kieran is ACTUALLY an editor. It's not some lie, he does work as an editor for a coverup and does speak with authors and clients in face-to-face meetups.

• Kieran has a special charm tattoo on his arm that he got so he could always kiss it for good luck. It's the black cat that she doodled when they first met. Yes, something as small as that is important to him.

LINKS:

— 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳

— 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥

— 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘷

[ P.4 ]