summary: in which you (jokingly) tell the lads boys that they're not your type.
ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus & caleb
notes: established relationship (!!!!) for all of them bc it felt a little angsty to do it pre-relationship LOL, xavier is a little cutie, zayne is cocky, raf is strange, sylus is reader enabler no. 1, caleb is also...strange. no explicit mentions of gender!!! only tiiiiny suggestive mentions in sylus's texts (i need him can you tell), that's it (i think) ^^
p.s. any and all grammar or spelling mistakes are not my fault...i literally just work here...reader/mc is a taaaad bit mean but that's the nature of the prank i swear...these are all very silly and loving relationships...this is also based on a req by @wildest-dreams-at-midnight I HOPE YOU LIKE IT SNOWWWWWW ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ thanks for always being #thegoat
a/n: i actually had to try to make AND post this smau three (3) separate times because my power went out three (3) separate times so that is sooooo fun !!!! (spare me i can't make it a fourth i'm terrified as i write this...)(not rlly but yk)(anyway) ty for reading (- -)(_ _)
To everyone the first impression they’d get of Sylus would usually be along the lines of intimidating, charming, assertive. He always seemed like he was playing 4d chess inside his mind, already moving the pawns two steps ahead of anyone else. Never entering a situation without a plan, and even if the plan failed - which it very rarely did - he’d whisk up a new plan out of thin air and execute it perfectly.
He was like that in his personal life as well, you were to find out. So incredibly attentive to you he’d learnt your habits before you even noticed you’d formed any.
Like whenever you’d pick up a croissant, he’d already be sliding a plate underneath your hands, knowing some flakes falling were inevitable, but you just couldn’t help yourself - grabbing the delicious pastry in a hurry to get a taste.
Or a towel appearing on the rack each time you had sleepily dragged yourself in the shower, your brain in a state of forgetting even the simplest things.
He was always there in his quiet, sure ways.
And you never quite understood how he managed to keep so calm, always riling you up and then smiling widely at your cute tantrums. Yet he himself was never explosive with you.
Not when you’d managed to stain his brand new slacks with expensive red wine in your clumsiness. Not when you’d accidentally scraped one of his favourite records or dropped the cast iron pot on his toes.
Always so composed, so understanding. You’d began to think he was the epitome of self regulation, that there was nothing that could set him off.
That was, until you once managed not to return from your mission in time. Sylus had lost connection to Mephisto as well, the fluctuating protofield blocking his transmitters.
One foot almost out the door, the only thing keeping him stationed was the thought of you giving him an earful if he ever came to rescue you like a damsel in distress simply because you were 10 minutes late.
So he resorted to keeping himself busy, retreating to his armory downstairs and giving a gun after another a polishing of their lifetime. And that’s where you found him another 10 minutes later.
You’d returned unscathed, Mephisto perched on your shoulder, surprised to be greeted with empty hallways as you marched through the front doors. The only sound your own footsteps echoing, and you’d softly called out ”Sy?” receiving no answer.
Mephisto had then taken flight and shown you the way, leading you to the stairs down to Sylus’ sanctuary.
He was standing angled to you, twisting a gun absetmindedly in his hand and going over it’s parts with a rag held in the other. He was staring at nothing, brows furrowed and jaw tense.
”Sy?” You called to him softly, but again receiving no reaction. You walked up to him and looked at his face — a deep crease in between his brows, his eyes devoid of light, not really focused on anything. He didn’t even seem to register your presence next to him, his hand cluthing the rag so hard his knuckles were white.
You reached out with both hands, cupping around his face.
”Sylus.”
As if woken from trance, he was startled and his widened eyes gradually moved from the wall to you, turning his head in your hold. When your eyes met, he held your gaze for a second and his eyes glossed over, before he hastily threw the items aside and pulled you into a crushing hug, his entire body trembling.
You returned the hug instantly, pressing your head in the crook of his neck and felt how his shaky breaths kept slowing. You simply held each other like so, and you moved your fingers to softly play with the hairs at the back of his head, listening to the beating of his heart calm down.
Yes, Sylus was calculated, well prepared and reliable. He never seemed to let his emotions get the best of him. But in that moment you realised something that tugged harshly on your heartstrings.
He’d had no choice but to learn how to control his emotions, for he’d had no one but himself to lean on. No one to ever tell him it’s okay, no one to guide him. So he’d swallowed it all up and pushed it to the furthest corners of his mind.
But what he felt for you was bigger than life itself, breaching it’s way through the highest of walls he’d built up in his head. All consuming like a wildfire through the forest, ruthless in it’s path.
”It’s okay. I’m here, I’m safe.” You whispered and squeezed him even harder, if possible. Moving to leave the softest of kisses on his tear ridden cheek, in your mind you promised to never leave him alone again.
a/n. Formed a thought, had to vomit it ’on paper’, bon appétit.
"Do you want a turn?" You glance over at Sylus, who stands only a foot behind you. He's watching you at the claw machine rather intensely, tearing his focus from the swaying claw to your face.
"Hm? No sweetie, I'm fine."
Sylus is a good liar. A great one really. Frankly, there's probably no one on this planet who is able to distinguish between his truths and his lies.
With the sole exception of you, of course.
"I know you want to. Come on, you'll have fun!" You nudge him closer, stepping away so he can step up to the bright machine. There's a moment of hesitation on his face, but he doesn't protest when you nod at him encouragingly.
"If it will make you happy." He says as if he's placating you. Another lie, but you won't call him on it.
"Which one do you want?" Sylus asks over his shoulder. You shake your head, leaning against his arm to look into the machine.
"You're the one playing, aren't you? Get whichever one you like." His smirk softens into something sweeter. Gratefulness, maybe.
You're not at all surprised when he moves the claw to hover the fussy kitty plushie. He keeps a similar one on his nightstand. He's claimed to have never slept with it, but you'd snuck into the base one night to find it clutched in his arms so tight it was definitely suffocating.
"Wow! You got it!" You cheer as it falls through the chute, grinning at the childlike twinkle in his eyes as he retrieves it.
"For you." He offers the plushie, but you're quick to shake your head.
"No no, you earned that one fair and square. Keep it. Maybe it will remind you of me when we're apart." Your words make Sylus glance at the plushie a moment too long, before nodding slowly.
"We're not going out." Sylus's words sound firm, even if their meaning makes little sense to you, more so because your head feels full of cotton balls.
"What do you mean?" You sniffle slightly, your throat raspy. Sylus smirks ever so slightly, a face he makes whenever you amuse him.
It's a face you're very familiar with.
"You're sick. You won't have much fun if we go out." There's a tiny part of his voice that sounds disappointed. You're sure he is. He hadn't told you the details, but you know he had big plans for your first Valentines day as a couple.
"I can still go! I'm fine really!" It might have been convincing if you hadn't sneezed immediately after. Sylus chuckles, picking you up from your vanity with ease. You'd protest if he wasn't so warm and comfortable.
He settles you on the couch, carefully laying a blanket on you, and then another, and then one more for good measure.
"Are you hungry?" His hand presses to your forehead. The heat radiating off you must worry him, because he frowns.
"Can I have ice cream?" You pout up at him. His brow raises, clearly both aware of what you're doing and unable to resist it.
"...You shouldn't eat ice cream while sick."
"My doctor says it's okay."
"I need to meet this doctor of yours before your teeth rot out of your head."
Before you can dwell on THAT idea too much, Sylus retrieves the pint of ice cream, though it's not without reluctance. He doesn't allow you to pull your arms from the blanket, settling next to you and feeding you a small bite. You hum in satisfaction as it dulls the ache in your throat, leaning your head on his broad shoulder.
"When you feel better, I'll make it up to you. We'll have a proper Valentine's day." He murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. You shake your head as best you can, though a yawn creeps through as you do.
"This is the best Valentine's I've ever had. You know why? Cause it's with you."
synopsis. caleb can't help but follow you into the shower
cw. fluff ˖ smut ˖ showering together ˖ penetration ˖ not proofread
caleb can't help himself sometimes. sliding open the shower door where you're currently lathering shampoo into your hair, the sight of his buff naked torso greets you as he steps inside with you. he's like a puppy, following you wherever you go.
you had failed to mention to him that you were going to shower, hence the pout on his face and the way he was grabbing onto your hips and clinging on to you. to caleb, who enjoyed doing everything with you— this was the biggest betrayal.
"why didn't you tell me you were gonna shower?" he pouts, mumbling against your shoulder.
you huff, hands pausing on the top of your head while you shoot him a glance from where he stands behind you. "because everytime you join me, it seems like we get more dirty first before we get clean. i just want to have a peaceful shower for once."
caleb raises his hands up in defense, "sorry, sorry." his hands immediately replace yours and he begins to gently massage your head. "i promise, no shenanigans today."
his hands feel absolutely heavenly and you feel your resolve starting to melt. you relax in his hold and let his hands work their magic on your scalp. you sigh contentedly and hear him chuckle. "fine. . . i suppose you can stay."
he turns you so you're facing him and the water from the shower is running down the back of your head. he begins to rinse your hair under the warm water. you squint your eyes open, trying to take a peek at him. he catches your gaze and smiles. a warm hand acts like an umbrella above your eyes.
"careful, you're gonna get soap in your eyes if you open them." he murmurs over the sound of water.
caleb is so tender with you. trying to protect you from all sorts of harm, even if it's only soap.
once your hair is all rinsed out, he wrings it and sets it up with a clip. without a moment of hesitation, he pumps out body wash into his hands. rubbing back and forth to create a lather. his sudsy hands work their way all over your body.
it's a domestic moment. . . or at least it was.
you can't help the heat that grows between your thighs. something about watching caleb take care of you makes you feral. it's so hot to see a man of his stature willing to do anything for you. aaaand the fact that he was naked. right in front of you. watching his muscles flex with every movement was a sight to behold.
you look down between his legs. he's hard, but not fully erect. it surprises you, most of the time when he joins you, caleb junior is springing to life. the fact that he was trying his best to restrain himself had your mouth watering even more.
he catches you looking and chuckles, "hey. no shenanigans." he playfully chides you. "keep those eyes to yourself missy."
"hmm, a girl can't change her mind?" you tease.
he lets out a hearty laugh, "i dunno. some of us here wanna get clean."
he keeps his gaze locked on to you as he pumps body wash into his hands and dramatically rubs it all over his body. he's toying with you. his big hands rub over the plush flesh of his pecs. you watch the suds lather up and how they slowly fall down his torso, sliding down over all of his abs.
no spot is left untouched and you watch as he stands underneath the water and it all washes down. his hair is soaked and his hand pushes it out of his forehead as he slicks it back.
the sight in front of you is sinful. water cascading down his body. he feels your hungry gaze and his dick gets harder and harder, and you watch it happen. his cock chubs up, growing in size until it springs up.
you reach out and grab onto his shoulders to pull him in for a searing kiss. your lips move together, as you devour one another. it’s hot, the way he’s starved for you. he pushes you against the shower wall and grips onto your head so he can angle it to his liking.
you can feel the length of him poking into you skin. he slides it through your thighs and rubs it between your puffy folds. the friction is delicious and you whine into the kiss. growing wetter and wetter, his cock glides through easier.
“mph, so wet for me pips,” he mumbles between kisses. “i think. . . it’ll slip right in without me even trying.”
you bite down on his lower lip and briefly your eyes open and meet his lustful gaze. “stop teasin’ and put it in.”
“ask nicely.”
you huff, “seriously?”
his mouth moved closer to your ear as he reiterates himself, “ask nicely.” he says while he nips at your ear. then he gently sucks on your neck just below. a shiver rolls down your back.
you roll your eyes but give in to him. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him in close. “will you please fuck me caleb? preetty please?” tilting your head to the side, trying to look cute for him.
his ears turn red. trying to act tough like he’s in charge, but he’s a simple man. one look from you and he melts. he can't even hide his grin.
“theere she is. there’s my good girl.” he muses. “cmon lift your leg up for me.” he taps on your thigh.
you eagerly lift it up and his hand comes to support you. with his other hand, he lines up his dick and slowly eases in to you and then wraps it around you to hold you close to him.
the second he bottoms in, you both groan. he slowly begins to thrust into you and your head falls back to lean against the porcelain walls of the shower. it feels good. caleb's so big and he stretches you out juust right.
his pace isn't fast. it's slow, but precise. his thrusts are strong and calculated, hitting that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars. you cling on to caleb, nuzzling your head into his neck. sucking on the skin, leaving marks of red and purple on his otherwise clear skin.
"haah, more— need more 'leb!" you cry out.
"yeah? tell me what you need. you know i'll give you anything you want."
"m-my clit, pleasepleaseplease." you beg while slowly shifting your hips closer to meet his thrusts.
"fuuck, how can i say no when you ask me like that." his voice comes out strained. "so fuckin' cute."
his thumb finds its place between your folds, moving side to side, up and down, and then switching to tantalizing circles. your jaw drops open, in a silent cry of pleasure.
after a moment and more thrusts of his hips, you feel your orgasm approaching. you look at caleb, and his slick backed hair and the droplets of water cascading down his body. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are closed. he's focused, trying to make this good for you. the sight of caleb like this has the heat in your lower stomach explode. it hits you all at once. your back arches off the wall and your chest presses into caleb's.
his hips stutter at the feeling of your tight walls orgasming against his hard cock. he groans, pressing his dick deep inside, before spurting out hot ropes of cum.
the two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped up in each others embrace. the hot water continues to shower over the both of you. you place a chaste kiss on his neck and then on his lips.
you look at him sheepishly, "guess we gotta clean up a little bit more, huh?"
Sylus sees his newborn baby’s eyes for the first time.
Sylus fluff, soft Sylus, papa Sylus 💕💕💕
I knoooow such a big jump from purring to hairbrushing and suddenly a baby??? I’m sorry my mind is all over the place >.<
I was actually inspired by an art post a few days back (which I will link down below because I think it’s nicer to see after the story) and it’s about papa Sylus holding his baby. In it, Sylus’ eyes are sooo so so soft huhu I just wanna hug him.
And I know y’all want Sylus to be a girl dad, but for personal reasons, it’s a baby boy in this story 🩵
wc: 950~
While you were pregnant, Sylus would often mention how much he wanted a mini-you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, your everything. He would even lay his head near the precious swell of your belly, gently stroking it and asking the baby to “be good and choose your mother’s features,” to which you would laugh, ruffle his hair, and call him silly.
When the gender ultrasound revealed that it was a boy, Sylus smiled. “I only wish that he would be healthy, and would look like you, my love.”
So it was no surprise when you first saw your baby in the delivery room, crying and held up by the doctor for you and Sylus to see, that their hair is the same color as yours. Sylus, who was firmly holding your hand beside you, broke into a grin so wide.
After a quick cleaning, the baby boy is placed in your arms, and you both greet him with soft coos as he calms down in contact with your warmth. Sylus hovers closely, fixing your hair, caressing your cheek, his eyes looking at you with pride. Then, he reaches out a finger to gently stroke the baby’s head. “Yours,” he says happily, referring to the hair.
Sylus is called away to sign a few forms, and he reluctantly leaves, promising to return quickly. But in the brief moment of his absence, you saw the baby take his first peek at the world, and you smile at him in wonder. However, the baby quickly closed his puffy eyes, and it would be a while before he would open them again.
After settling in your private room, you encourage Sylus to give the baby some skin-to-skin as well, citing the benefits of close physical contact with both parents. He readily agrees, opening the buttons of his shirt, but teasing you with an arch of his brow— “if you wanted to see my body, you could have just asked, sweetie.” You make a face, to which he laughs, before coming over to hold his baby.
He sinks into the sofa beside your bed, cradling the precious little treasure against his bare chest. Sylus gently caresses the baby’s head, his finger then trailing down to the nose, tracing the quirk of their mouth, and teasingly poking a chubby cheek. “Yours, yours, and yours,” he smiles as he confirms that the boy looks just like you.
The sleepy baby is just about the length of his arm, barely a few hours old, yet Sylus is already heaping praise upon praise on him for his good wisdom to take after his mother. You roll your eyes at this. Sylus conveniently ignores it.
Perhaps curious at the familiar deep voice murmuring nearby, the baby stirs and his eyelids start to flutter as if wanting to see who it is. Sylus zeroes in on the movement, confident that the eyes would match yours too once they opened.
His expectant face, however, is abruptly turned into one of surprise. His mouth took a sharp inhale and his pupils grew wide as he held the gaze of the newborn.
Red. Staring back at him is the same vibrant color that greets him in mirrors.
Red. A striking reflection of his own, down to the exact warm shade.
Red. The heat of a cozy bonfire, the glory of blazing sunsets, the bold strokes of autumn leaves.
Red. The color of passion and determination and strength and love.
Red. His. Not like yours, but like his.
Sylus seems to have forgotten how to breathe.
It was the baby’s slow blink and soft coos, unaware of the shock he just gave his father, that reeled Sylus back.
Sylus let out a quiet laugh, his eyebrows scrunching together. He leaned down to gently press his forehead against the baby’s. “Mine,” he whispers reverently. “My baby. My son. Mine. My precious little one. It’s me, your… your papa.”
And you, a happy witness, felt your heart soften even more for the man before you. He keeps composed, though you swear you saw his lips wobble a tiny fraction.
When Sylus finally raises his head to look at you, his usual smirk is back, though his glowing eyes seem slightly watery. “He’s perfect,” he declares, standing to return the baby into your arms before wrapping you in an embrace, careful of the little one in between you. He presses a lingering kiss to your lips, then buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Thank you, my beloved,” he whispers, voice a little hoarse. “I will love you both for eternity and more.”
——————————
Papa Syloooos ily ily ily aaaaah 💕
Red. The color of fortune!!! May fortune be with you as you pull for your main(s) in the new banner!!! Happy lunar new year to you~ 🏮
And HERE is the art by @earthsrirshaart that inspired me for this!!! Gooo check out her other works if you haven’t!!! There’s more papa Sylus and also *ahem* sexy Sylus 🤭
@abyssyby @terriblesoup I hope you guys like this one! 💕
@hachisenshi thank you for the tag in your post! Cheers to new friends!
I am so hyped for the new banner but my dias aren’t. Pls pray for this f2p player, send help, help me manifest Sylus Shared Lanterns T_T
Caleb’s older now, lounging on the couch with his four kids around him. His sons—teenagers at this point—are slouched in various states of I’m too cool for this while his little princess is painting her nails on the carpet. Caleb’s got that smug grin like he’s about to drop another one.
“Hey kids,” he starts, clearing his throat like he’s on stage.
Collective groans fill the room.
“Daaaad, no—” the oldest warns.
But Caleb doesn’t stop.
“Why did the scarecrow win an award?”
The middle son mutters, “Please stop.”
“Because he was outstanding in his field.”
Silence.
Then his daughter throws her head back with a loud, “DADDY, THAT’S SO BAD!” but she’s giggling despite herself.
The youngest son covers his face with his hands like, “Why is this my bloodline…?”
The oldest is texting you like, Mother, pls collect your husband.
Caleb beams, completely unbothered. “Oh, I’ve got more. Hey princess,” he turns to his daughter, “what did the ocean say to the shore?”
“…what?”
“Nothing, it just waved.”
Cue the chorus of groaaan, “oh my GOD, DAD.”
And the worst part? He laughs at his own jokes harder than anyone else. Like, full belly laugh, wiping tears from his eyes, while his children just stare at him like he’s committed war crimes.
But here’s the kicker—when the kids try to fight back? Doesn’t work.
Oldest son: “You’re so old, Dad.”
Caleb: “I prefer the term classic.”
Middle son: “Your jokes are fossilized.”
Caleb: “Guess that makes me a rock star.”
He’s UNSTOPPABLE. The only one who sometimes laughs genuinely is his daughter—because no matter how lame his jokes are, she loves her dad too much to hold back her giggles. And Caleb? He looks at her like she hung the moon every time she cracks a smile.
Meanwhile, you? You’re in the kitchen, sipping coffee with a smirk, because you know for a fact the kids have inherited his sense of humor whether they admit it or not.
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