todays bird
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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EXPECTATIONS
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Misplaced Lens Cap
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Cosimo Galluzzi
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Not today Justin
oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sade Olutola
macklin celebrini has autism
cherry valley forever
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@sylusfluffymeow
Playing strip poker with Sylus and you're taking it soooo seriously, except he's manipulating the cards to purposefully lose so he can whore himself out in front of you, and before you know it, he's completely naked while you only have your jacket off.
Wrapped
I tried to finish my old art, but unsuccessfully 🥲
WDYM NO KISSES???
The most handsome man, My Husband! I love him so much!
My Yearnlus <3
You can’t help but be overly observant of the way Sylus eats. You’re overly observant of everything he does, truthfully, because you just can’t stop staring at him.
Some would think the leader of Onychinus would be ruthless when he eats. No manners, sloppy, disrespectfully cruel. Such as his rumored crimes, such as his ruthlessness in the way he runs the N109 Zone.
Others believe he’d be proper, an air of elegance and composure surrounding him as he dines. Though, the ones that think that are often the ones that are lucky enough to be in his presence briefly enough to live to tell the tale.
You, however, are quite versed in the way Sylus eats.
He’s particular, often precise, and he takes his time. He savors every bite thoroughly; he’s quite vocal with his praises to the chef when he truly enjoys his meal.
In fact, they’re not wrong, he can get quite sloppy when he gets lost in the meal. When it’s just that good, he can’t seem to stop himself from making a mess.
This… isn’t about food btw.
Something dumb again lol
“why do you do that?”
you furrowed your brows at sylus’ question, your phone was posed between your hands, angling it towards the michelin course that was in front of you, finger on the touchscreen, ready to take a picture.
“do what?”
sylus gestures vaguely to your phone.
“take pictures of the food.” sylus answers, you give him a sheepish smile.
“i like taking pictures of the food before i eat it, i’m immortalizing the visual before i devour it.”
sylus snorts, shaking his head fondly, but he doesn’t say anything more as he lets you take photos of your meal in all angles until you are satisfied.
while you were engrossed in your little photoshoot, you failed to see sylus take his phone out and angle it towards you, waiting for the moment your lips pout in concentration before he snaps the photo.
not realizing that he was a grandpa with technology, the shutter sound caught your attention. not that it mattered.
“sylus, what’re you doing? you should’ve told me! i wasn’t ready.”
sylus looks at the photo he took, lips twitching into a smirk.
“just as you said, sweetie.”
he lifts his head to meet your eyes.
“i’m immortalizing the visual before i devour her tonight, kitten.”
oh.
Naughty kitten😺 (Affinity lvl 100 celebration 🫶🏻)
"-Remember the last time this happened?😈"
goodbye aprilus, see u next year🥹
Allegations
Dad!Sylus x Mom!Reader
Note: misunderstanding trope, also, this is not how it happens in real life, but this is supposed to be a crack fic sooo
"Thank you for coming to see me in such a short notice, Mr. and Mrs. Qin," your daughter's elementary school teacher said, sitting in the desk in front of you two.
"Of course!" you exclaimed, but at the sound of silence from your husband, you elbowed him slightly, only for him to return a grunt.
After a call from your daughter's teacher, you ran over as fast as you could. While you were the image of concern, your husband, unfortunately, was still in the "my daughter can do no wrong" phase, and came to the parent-teacher meeting with a sour attitude, his leather jacket, and arms crossed while he sat in the tiny chair in front of her desk.
In order to keep your daughter humble despite her father's spoiling, you had to be the strong front here.
"You see," she started out, "your daughter said something very concerning..." Her eyes darted from you to your husband.
"She isn't getting bullied, is she?" you worriedly blurted out. Your mind raced at a thoughts thoughts per minute. You didn't think you were vindictive, but if something happened to your baby, you would go scorched earth.
"What? Oh, oh no," she replied, shaking her head.
"She..." you started out slowly. "She isn't the bully...is she?" Sylus scoffed at your side, causing you to shoot him a glare that immediately shut him up.
You knew that your daughter was a very sweet girl, but you also knew that with Sylus as her father...she was used to getting her way, and with her boxing training, you knew that she could be a bit...rougher than others.
"Well—" the teacher started out while you grimaced. "She is very, very sweet with the girls in the class. She's extremely friendly with them, always sharing her school supplies and food with them, and they all seem to love her back. The boys...however..."
Sylus raised an eyebrow.
"I'll be very frank with you. She treats the boys in the class like servants. While she's very kind to the girls, she's very direct and assertive with the boys, and she has them carrying her water bottle and lunch pail, open the door, and pull out her chair for her."
Your jaw dropped—Every time you asked her how school was, she never bothered to mention this!
Sure, her dad always opened the car door for her, carried her backpack to and from pickup and drop off, and the twins called her "little boss," but you never thought she thought that was just how the world worked!
"And they let her?!" you said, aghast.
"Some of them have a crush on her, I believe—" You held Sylus from the back of his jacket once he straightened. "So I think that's why they let her boss them around. This shouldn't be encouraged. Once I saw this behavior, I pulled her aside to privately tell her that that wasn't appropriate, and she said her older brothers—"
Your jaw dropped even more. The twins?!
"Told her that if the boys in her class protested and wouldn't do her bidding anymore, like her mom to her dad, she should 'roughen them up,' 'use force,' and—I'm not even sure why she knows this phrase, and I had to decipher it when she told me because she clearly didn't know the words, she should 'whip him into submission.'"
"HUH?" you shouted, but Sylus burst out laughing beside you. Once he realized that this meeting wasn't about criticizing his sweet little dove anymore, his mood did a 180.
She was telling people you "whipped her father into submission"?! That you "roughen him up"?!
"Of course, you can see that this is highly concerning, and as a mandated reporter—"
"Sylus!" you shouted against his laughs. "Qin Che!" Oh, he knew you were serious when you pulled out his government name, but that made him lose his breath even more. "This isn't funny! Your daughter is going out there saying that I—I beat my husband or something!"
"Oh, I like it when you do though," Sylus cooed, putting his hand behind your tiny plastic chair.
"And I can't believe the twins taught her that—! Stop laughing and listen to me!"
The teacher's eyes widened when the situation became clear before her, and her face became more and more pink by the second.
"Don't worry," Sylus smirked toward the poor woman. "My wife may beat me, but," his smile grew wider as he leaned in as if he wanted to kiss you. Your head whipped around at the slander, jaw to the floor. "I let her."
Face aflame, you pushed his face back before his lips could connect with yours. In front of the teacher no less! You didn't want to make out in front of your daughter’s teacher!
"C'mon, I know you can hit me harder than that, sweetie."
I genuinely keep thinking of how sylus has these giant boba eyes he looks at mc from that are so obviously full of love and yearning and how if he was even a little more aware of them he could use them to his advantage the way xavier does but like he doesn't bc sylus doesn't think he's cute in the first place and he's also not the type to"manipulate" in a sense-
Not Tonight...Please?
After a long day, you just want to relax in your husband's arms. But ever the ragebaiter, Sylus makes his usual teases.
Fluff/comfort with a little angst. Small Xavier cameo.
1.5K words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fourteen hours. Meetings. Missions. More meetings. No breaks. And to top it off, an ass chewing.
Days like this were becoming more and more frequent in the life of a hunter. And the more frequent, the less time you had for basic things like eating or a good night's sleep. Or even an overdue ‘everything’ shower. Let alone seeing your husband. Who was plenty busy himself, surely. You wouldn’t know, though. The calls had turned into texts of progressively fewer and fewer words.
You missed him.
That was an understatement. You missed him and the twins and your real home. Even Mephisto, who would surely lecture you about being away for so long with a number of indecipherable squawks.
Although his shouting would be far preferable to the one you received from Captain Jenna today. Thanks to you, a wanderer that was high on the Association watch list nearly got away. Your exhaustion reached a peak, causing you to make rookie mistakes during the fight. Luckily, Xavier was there to pick up your slack, but if he hadn’t been? Who knows what would have happened?
In the middle of her scolding, Jenna’s captain hat slipped momentarily, taking in your appearance. The dark circles under your eyes, your slouching posture, and your less than glowing countenance. The exhaustion in you was obvious and it gave her pause. She sighed and told you you would be taking some time off. She left no room for argument and while you didn’t need it, the sting of embarrassment and feelings of failure grew rapidly. You left swiftly when she excused you, holding back your tears with a clenched jaw and bit lip.
Xavier caught up with you at your desk and kindly offered to take care of all the paperwork from today. You thanked him and took your leave quickly after, not even bothering to say your usual goodbyes. You would text Tara later. Right now all you wanted was one thing.
To go home.
~~~
Thanks to the lack of speed limits in the N109 Zone, you arrived at Onychinus in record time. Parked your bike next to the dozens of others in Sylus’ garage and headed inside. The base was exactly as you left it. Dark, quiet, vast, and almost devoid of life. If you didn’t know where to look, that is. And you did.
You start to look in the usual places Sylus lingers. The kitchen, his office, the gym. All turn up empty. He likely already knows you are here–even more likely that he knew the moment you entered the N109 Zone–and is now waiting to see how long it takes for you to find him.
A game you would usually find joy in, but now it was filling you with frustration and impatience.
Why did he have to have so many damn rooms in this place? What was the point if half of them were empty?
You started to call out his name, hearing it echo several times with no response afterwards. Your eyes started to burn. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was he not even here and you are just making a fool of yourself.
As you run out of usual places to look, you start to look in some of the less-likely-but-still-a-possibility places. The armory, the conference hall, the garden, and finally, the library. As you approach the grand double doors, you hear a soft sound of music coming from within. The familiar scratch of a record player and a carefully selected song.
Sylus.
You open the door and step inside. The grand fireplace is lit, as the only light it casts a warm yellow and orange glow to the surrounding bookshelves and pieces of art on display. In one of the large, padded chairs, you see him. He’s faced away from you, attention focused on a book and a glass of red wine.
“It’s true what they say. Kittens always find their way home if you give them enough time.”
He doesn’t look up, turning to the next page of his book. You can tell from his silhouette that he wears his glasses.
“Of course, they also say should the kitten sustain injury, the chances of them returning deteriorates. Has my kitten been away for so long because she fought something too big for her tiny claws? Or maybe she found something more exciting to occupy her time.”
His words cut deep. Teasing laced with microscopic traces of annoyance that you’ve been gone for so long with no communication. Your stomach twists.
He’s just teasing. He’s just teasing. This is what he does, as always. He’s not mad. He’s just being Sylus.
Your brain tried to convince yourself of these things, but the damage was done. The weight of the long work days, the temporary dismissal, and the effort it took to find him crashes down on you. Your eyes burn once more and your voice comes out broken.
“Sylus. Not tonight…please?”
The tone of your voice makes his head whip around, taking you in for the first time. His teasing smirk fades instantly when he sees your red eyes and quivering jaw. He sets down his glass of wine, standing with a quickness. The book in his lap, forgotten, tumbling to the ground–he is halfway across the room before it even settles.
He wraps you in his strong embrace as soon as he gets to you, his muscular arms enveloping you in a blanket of instant warmth and security. Your arms instinctively rise to cling to the back of his shirt, fisting the fabric. One of his hands cradles the back of your neck while the other is tight around your waist. You choke out a sob and his grip tightens.
You cry into his chest, your body shaking and your breath escapes you in small huffs.
Whimpers overpower the soft music that still plays across the room. Sylus leans down, scooping you up into his arms and bringing you back over to his chair. He kicks away the discarded book and sits with you in his lap, holding you close and letting you cry into his neck. He kisses your forehead and whispers apologies. For his teasing and for his lack of communication on his part. He tells you to cry as you need. To let out all the feelings you have trapped inside.
And you do. You cry until you run out of tears and your breathing returns to normal. You lift your head to look up at him, wincing as you do. A headache now pounds against your temple and even the soft glow of the fireplace hurts your eyes. His brow twitches in concern, raising one of his hands to shield your eyes from the light.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You lean into his hand and nod your head. So you tell him about your day. The long and tiring tale of how you came to him crying. And he listens to all of it, nodding along and grunting at the details he didn’t care for. Particularly Jenna chewing you out. But his scowl lessened when you mentioned the time off you have been given.
“Time off? That sounds like a good thing, kitten. You have been working yourself to the bone lately. You deserve time to relax.”
“I guess. But it would have been better to ask for the time off…not have it forced on me.”
Sylus smiles and kisses your cheek.
“My prideful kitten. Forced on you or not, it’s needed. If Jenna hadn’t done it, I might have called in for you myself. Whisked you away to one of our safe houses to forget about everything in Linkon.”
You sigh, thinking about being ‘kidnapped’ by the feared leader of Onychinus, aka your husband.
“Hmm. Could we go to the ranch? I know the mares are getting close to foaling.”
“Of course. Anything you desire. And more.”
“Promises, promises.”
He chuckles. “You should know better than anyone I am a man of action, sweetie. I will take you there right now. Just say the word.”
You smile and kiss his cheek. “Temping, but another time. Right now, I want to be home. With my husband.”
“Home.” He repeats, liking the way you say it. “As you wish.”
Silence settles over you both, now simply enjoying being with each other. Sylus realizes now the depth of how much he missed you. He grows cold whenever you are away, each day more so than the last. He slips back into old habits of working almost nonstop and training harder than he needs to. His space feels empty without you. Wrong and lacking in color. But the moment you return, it’s like he can see again. Feel again. Like everything is right with the world. In his world, it is. You are his world–the entirety of it. Everything he does, everything he has ever done, has been for you.
His partner. His wife. His mate. His literal other half.
“Have you eaten, sweetie?”
You shake your head. You had a poor excuse for a breakfast early this morning, but nothing since.
He hums and stands once again, holding you with one arm.
“Let’s get you taken care of.”
mc to sylus every 5 minutes:
A little bit of brainrot okay, probably ovulating so, my mind is going through things that Sylus would say to you during freak time:
"If you going to cum, do it on my cock"
"Don't run kitten"
"Tried already? I thought you had more stamina"
"Don't worry about making a mess"
"So pretty and flushed for me"
"Saying my name so often? Are you afraid to forget it?"
"You can take it, sweetie"
"As you wish"
"Tell me if it's too much"
"Keep doing those pretty sounds"
"Don't pass out yet"
Sylus is the definition of tit for tat.
You find out pretty early in the relationship that if you mess with him, he’s going to mess with you right back(tenfold)
It starts small.
You’re sitting on the couch together when you reach up and rub his head affectionately, fingers threading through his silver hair. “Soft today,” you tease.
Without missing a beat, the second you lower your hand he reaches over and pats the top of your head like he would with a cat. “Even softer,” he murmurs, smug look on his face.
You narrow your eyes. He just arches a brow like he’s daring you to continue.
So you do.
Later that evening you walk past him in the kitchen while he’s pouring a drink. On impulse you reach out and grab his waist, giving it a quick squeeze as you go by.
Two hours later you’re standing in the same spot, reaching for a glass, when Sylus strolls past you. His arm snakes around your waist and squeezes, harder, fingers digging in just enough to make you squeak.
“Fair’s fair, sweetie,” he says smoothly, not even breaking stride.
You start keeping score after that.
One lazy afternoon you can’t resist. He’s standing there in a fitted black shirt, looking unfairly good, so you slide your hands up his chest and give his pecs a firm, appreciative squeeze.
He doesn’t react immediately. Just looks down at you with that dangerous little smile.
But the next morning when you’re stretching in front of the mirror in nothing but one of his shirts, he appears behind you. His hands come up without warning, cupping your boobs fully, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric.
“These are much better,” he says casually, giving them a gentle but possessive squeeze before letting go. “Carry on.”
Your mouth drops open. He just walks away like he didn’t just feel you up in broad daylight.
It keeps going.
You’re feeling bold one night after an outing. As he walks past you toward the bedroom you reach out and lightly slap his ass; quick, playful, barely any sting.
Sylus stops. Turns his head slowly. He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.
You think you’ve won.
You haven’t.
Later, when you’re bent over grabbing something from the bottom drawer, he walks up behind you. One big hand grabs a full handful of your ass, squeezing hard, before he brings his palm down in a sharp, resounding spank that makes you jolt forward with a surprised yelp.
“Ow- Sylus!”
He leans down, lips brushing your ear as his hand soothes over the spot he just smacked.
“You started it, kitten,” he purrs, voice low and amused. “I’m simply finishing it. And I always finish stronger.”
You rub your stinging cheek, face burning, but you’re also grinning like an idiot.
Because that’s just how it is with him.
And the worst (best) part?
He always waits for the perfect moment. Never does it immediately. He lets you think you got away with it… then strikes when you least expect it, settling the score with interest.
You’ve learned your lesson by now.
But you still can’t stop yourself from lightly slapping his ass again the very next day.
Because let’s be honest: you like losing this game.
And Sylus?
He loves winning it
Sylus has always been a patient man.
But nothing tests that patience quite like you.
The first time you leaned in and kissed him, he felt like the entire world could burn down around him and he wouldn’t care. Since then, making out with you has become his favorite addiction. The way you melt into him, the little sounds you make when he licks into your mouth, how you grip his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear,he can’t get enough.
Tonight is no different.
You’re straddling his lap on the couch in his private lounge, hands tangled in his silver hair while he kisses you deep and slow. His hands slide up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you closer. A low groan rumbles in his chest when you rock against him, unconsciously grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants.
“Fuck, kitten…” he murmurs against your lips, voice already rough. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You whimper softly, kissing him harder, and for a moment it feels like you might finally be ready. His hands slip under your shirt, palms warm against your bare waist, thumbs stroking just beneath your ribs. He’s so hard it’s aching, straining painfully against his zipper, but he doesn’t rush you. He just keeps kissing you like he could do this forever.
Then you pull back suddenly, breathing heavily, eyes a little wide.
“Sylus… wait. I’m sorry, I-” You bite your lip, looking guilty.
He stills immediately.
His hands slide out from under your shirt and settle respectfully on your hips instead. Even though his cock is throbbing angrily between you, begging for friction, his expression softens.
“Hey,” he says gently, voice low and calm. “Don’t apologise. You never have to be sorry for that.”
You look down, cheeks flushed. “But you’re… I can feel how hard you are. I keep getting you worked up and then stopping-“
Sylus cuts you off by tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. That usual smugness is gone, replaced by something warmer and tender.
“I don’t care if I stay hard for the rest of the night,” he says simply. “Or all week. Or all month. We go at your pace. Always.”
He leans in and presses a slow, sweet kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, much softer this time.
“You letting me kiss you like this already feels like winning the lottery, sweetie,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I can wait. As long as you need.”
Even as he says it, his cock twitches hard between your thighs, still painfully trapped and aching. He ignores it completely, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest instead.
You bury your face in his neck, relaxing into him. “You’re too good to me.”
Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle, though it sounds a little strained.
“Trust me, I’m not a saint. Right now I’m thinking about a lot of very filthy things I want to do to you,” he admits, voice dropping into a purr. “But I’d rather have you comfortable and happy than rush anything. This-” He squeezes your waist gently. “-is more than enough.”
You stay like that for a long time, you curled up on his lap, his arms securely around you while he presses occasional kisses to your hair and temple.
Later, after you’ve fallen asleep against his chest, Sylus finally lets out a slow, controlled breath.
He’s painfully hard, balls aching, cock leaking into his boxers… but he just holds you tighter, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.
Because even if it means blue balling himself every single time you make out, you’re worth every second of it.
His kitten is safe, comfortable, and slowly opening up to him
THE FACES HE MADE WHEN HE PUT IT IN.
Sylus nation, let’s cheer. We got to see how he looked when he put it in, So hot, we’ve been fed so well with this card.😩
Cuddles
