The Shaadi idea with Sylus - Mendhi night. Since he doesn't have any blood family aside from the twins & Mephisto, your family invite them over. They're given flower garlands and turmeric/haldi facials, forcefeeding them sweetmeats and snacks.
But Sylus misses you (he's not allowed to see you until the next day for the wedding) and you text him that you're getting your Mendhi done. You send him a picture. You simply tell him that his name is hidden somewhere in the patterns and that he has to find it on your wedding night - If he wants to do anything after.
There's something so innocent & sweet about these wedding rituals that caters to his possessive nature. He tolerates all the fussing over him and gets to bond with your family, knowing what's in store.
The bride he couldn't resist.
Sylus × desi fem!reader.
It all began on the haldi day.
You and Sylus sat side by side, glowing under soft golden sunlight, surrounded by the laughter and teasing of your family. He wasn’t used to rituals like these, but he quietly let them smear turmeric on his cheeks, allowed them to place marigold garlands around his neck, and accepted every sweetmeat and snack offered with affection.
He stayed calm and observant, his usual intensity softened just a little in the warmth of the moment. Yet, every time someone mentioned your name, there was a flicker in his eyes that told a different story. One that only you understood.
When he tried to leave after the ceremony, your family gently stopped him. They asked him to stay until the wedding, knowing he had no blood family. He only had the twins and Mephisto, and they wanted him to feel like he belonged. He wasn’t just marrying you. He was becoming part of your home.
And Sylus had already earned their love. He was quiet but respectful, polite yet protective, and there was something in the way he looked at you that made everyone believe you were the safest person in the world.
That night, you had an idea. A game.
You remembered how your last prank on him had failed miserably. This time, you wanted to make it count. So, you chose something from tradition, something playful yet rooted in culture. In some weddings, the bride and groom were not allowed to see each other until the wedding day. What better excuse to tease him?
You told your parents, and they laughed. Not only did they agree, they encouraged it. They wanted to see how far Sylus would go.
That evening at dinner, Sylus sat with your parents, talking more than he usually did. But soon, he noticed your absence. His expression shifted. He looked around once, then again, confused.
“Where is she?” he asked your parents.
Your father smiled, taking a sip of water. “She won’t be joining tonight. You’re not allowed to see her until the wedding day.”
Sylus looked genuinely stunned. “What? Since when?”
“Since now,” your mother replied, amused. “She wanted to try a tradition. You’ll see her tomorrow.”
Sylus clenched his jaw slightly but said nothing. The idea of not seeing you until the wedding day didn’t sit well with him. You knew that. You were counting on it.
But he didn’t fight it. He waited until dinner was over, then quietly picked up a food tray and walked toward your room. Your parents saw him, exchanged a knowing glance, and let him go.
Just before he reached your door, Mephisto arrived at your window and let out a loud caw. You grinned. That sound had always been his warning. Sylus was close.
You picked Mephisto up with a giggle. “Thanks, Mephie. You didn’t let me lose this time.”
You quickly covered your face with your dupatta like a soft veil, and just as you finished adjusting it, there was a knock. You opened the door slowly. Sylus stood there, tray in hand, clearly annoyed to find your face covered again.
“Oh? Is someone upset?” you teased, your voice light and sweet.
Sylus narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t win. That’s cheating. Mephisto warned you.”
“He just helped me. That’s not cheating,” you pouted.
He gave a short chuckle. “Keep going, kitten. I’ll come up with a stronger plan next time.”
He handed you the food tray and walked off, still visibly frustrated. You turned to Mephisto and whispered, “Keep an eye on him. Let me know if he tries anything sneaky.”
Mephisto cawed again and flew away. You couldn’t help but laugh. The game had only just begun.
That night, Sylus tossed and turned in bed. The idea of not seeing your face for even a single day burned in his mind. It was unbearable. You knew it would be.
The next morning was the mehendi ceremony. You sat with your friends and cousins, hands outstretched as the artist drew delicate floral designs across your palms. The scent of henna filled the air, and with a playful smile, you leaned toward the artist and whispered your request.
“Can you hide the letter 'S' somewhere in my right hand?”
The artist smiled and nodded, working the hidden letter beautifully into the pattern. You had another plan. Another challenge.
Later that night, you were hungry but unable to eat. The mehendi on your hands was still fresh. You were just about to call your mother when she called out instead, saying she was getting her own mehendi done.
You frowned. That wasn’t the plan.
Before you could react, arms wrapped around your waist and turned you gently. Your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with him. Your veil slipped, revealing your face fully for the first time since haldi.
“Sylus,” you gasped.
He looked down at you with that same fire, only stronger now. “You were going to call Mom to feed you.”
“She was supposed to help me,” you said, still surprised. “This isn’t fair.”
“I told her to get her mehendi done,” he confessed, his voice low and teasing. “I warned you. You wouldn’t win.”
You clenched your jaw. “Fine. But be ready for tomorrow. I’ll make you lose.”
He smirked. “I’ll always win if it means I get to see your face.”
Before you could respond, he took your hand, brought it to his lips, and whispered, “Let me feed you.”
He took you to your room, sat you down gently, and began feeding you small bites. He even blew on each spoonful to cool it down. Each gesture, every glance, felt like a quiet promise. You watched him, heart full, thinking how lucky you were to have someone who played, teased, protected, and cared so deeply.
When he finished, you leaned in with a sly smile. “Tomorrow, wedding night. I’ll make you lose.”
“We’ll see,” he said, eyes darkening. “You lost too easily today.”
The next day passed in a blur of celebration. You became his, officially. His wife.
And now, you were sitting in his room. Waiting.
You were dressed in a lighter version of your bridal attire, veil loose, mehendi still staining your palms. The air was quiet. Your heart was not.
Sylus walked in, finally yours in every way. His eyes softened the moment he saw you. That raw desire, that deep affection, all tangled up in his gaze.
He sat beside you on the bed. You looked at him and smiled. “Remember I told you about a game on our wedding night?”
He raised a brow. “I remember. So you’re ready to lose again, wifey?”
You offered your hands to him. “Find the first letter of your name. It’s hidden in my mehendi. If you fail… you don’t get to kiss me tonight.”
Sylus growled softly. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make you lose. Just watch.”
He took your left hand and began searching. His eyes traced every swirl and petal, his brows furrowing more with every second. You stayed silent, barely holding back your laughter. Minutes passed. He searched, and he failed.
You giggled softly. “Sylus… you lost.”
He looked at you in disbelief.
“Oh, my dear husband. You were so frustrated about not kissing me, you only checked one hand. The wrong one.”
You held up your right hand with a proud little smirk. “It’s hidden here.”
He snatched your wrist, eyes narrowing as he scanned your palm. And then he found it. The small, elegant S nestled into the pattern.
Before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you.
It was deep and slow and full of every emotion he had been holding in. His longing, his need, his desperation to finally call you his. You kissed him back, your hands trembling slightly under the weight of everything you felt.
When he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours and whispered, “Do you have any idea how hard it was not seeing your face for even one day? Kitten, don’t ever make me suffer like that again. Your face is all I want to see when I wake up and before I sleep.”
You kissed his forehead, fingers brushing his cheek. “Okay, I won’t make you suffer. But if I didn’t tease you like that, you wouldn’t have kissed me like there’s no tomorrow.”
He smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Is that what you really wanted? Jaan, you could have just asked.”
You grinned. “Then kiss me again. And prove you want me.”
He didn’t wait.
He leaned in and kissed you again, this time deeper and intense. He didn’t move, didn’t pull back. His kiss held the weight of every unspoken vow, every wish he’d carried for years. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
Just you. Just him. Just forever
