The concept of saving up a ton of money to buy Sylus a really expensive present. Like I’m talking saving up all year to drop like $18,000 on a custom designed watch or something priced absolutely crazy to a normal human.
You give it to him, all giddy and wide eyed as he opens it. Watch him study it, pick it up and admire every little detail about it. Telling you how much he loves it, going on and on about how sweet and thoughtful you are. Until…
“I saved up all year to have it made for you!”
You saved up? You spent your money? Your money?
Sylus tries to hide his expression, immediately horrified by the idea that you spent your hard earned money on him. Someone who has more money than he’ll ever know what to do with. Who practically begs you to be self indulgent on his card… “Sy… do you not like it?”
“I love it, very much. It just may be one of my most prized possessions now.” And he means, truly he does.
But mentally he’s planning on wiring you $100,000.
sylus who thinks you're really cute when you're sleepy enough to make you act a bit dazed and out of it!! his teasing voice and soft touches and the adoration and love in his eyes as he gazes down at you..,mgggdfggh
"Aw, baby," he coos as you climb into bed beside him, just barely having dragged yourself through your nighttime routine. You barely even notice his tone of voice, just nuzzling into his warm palm when he cups your face. "Are you sleepy? Hmmm?"
You nod, and he hums, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. He studies your features for a few moments, watching as you start to doze off against his hand like a cat.
You fight off the urge to sleep in order to look up at him with half-open eyes and mumble something unintelligible, causing a smirk to grow on his face as he huffs out a laugh. "What was that, sweetie?"
You try to repeat yourself, but all that comes out of your lips is gibberish. Sylus chuckles, not bothering to ask a second time. He just threads his free hand beneath your (his) shirt to gently run his nails up and down your back. You sigh, melting at his touch and slumping forward.
"Mmm, come closer," he murmurs, and you obey, nuzzling into his chest. "Thaaat's it. Let me hold you."
He guides you to lie down with him, and you follow pliantly, already halfway to dreamland.
you introduce a gold star system to sylus. needless to say, things get chaotic very quickly!
sylus didn't notice anything different until there was a solid collection of gold stars on his fridge.
he thought it was amusing. was this some kind of reward system? you hadn't said anything on the matter, and as long as the stars kept growing, he would let you do as you wished.
he started keeping track of it. anytime he complimented you, or gave you a new gun, or took over a chore, there it was. a new gold star to his ever growing stack.
he was proud. even though it went unspoken between you both, he was clearly doing something good.
but then, disaster struck.
suddenly, one star was gone. then two, then three, until a good chunk was missing.
and all sylus could do was panic.
had he done something wrong? were you upset with him? did he do something you didn't like without knowing?
he had to investigate.
he was extra careful with you the following days, quiet where he would usually tease, gentle where he would usually let his strength get the best of him.
and oh, were you laughing about it when you were out of his sight.
when no new gold stars were added to his list, he was getting desperate. buying everything he laid his eyes on that reminded him of you, presenting you with bouquet after bouquet when you came home from work, cleaning the base from floor to ceiling..
and still, there was no new stars.
he caved, finally. pulled you into a tight hug and buried his face into your neck, as if that would grant him your mercy.
"i'm sorry," he breathed, rubbing his cheek against you, "i'll make it up to you. do you want a new gun? a car? do you want to go on a date? i'll do anything, just-"
"just what, sy?" keeping your composure had never been harder than when he looked at you, red eyes wide.
".. just give me my gold stars back."
and he sounded so sad, so scared that he had lost your favor, that you couldn't help but burst out laughing, kissing his cheek.
"alright, i'll give them back." when he still didn't look happy, you squeezed his cheeks gently, "i'll even give you ten more, since you've been such a good boy."
the twins couldn't help noticing how bright their boss was that day.
(and frankly, sylus, the twins and mephisto were more well behaved when you started offering prizes along with your gold stars.)
sylus was a heavy sleeper when he knew you were safe, but he was an even heavier anchor when he didn’t want you to leave the bed.
the afternoon sun was entirely blocked out by the blackout curtains, plunging he bedroomn into a quiet twilight. you had climbed into bed just to keep him company while he took a much needed nap, but after an hour of lying still, your limbs were getting restless. you shifted slightly, trying to slide out from under the heavy arm around your waist.
you were barely halfway to freedom when the srm tightened like a metal trap. with one effortlessly yank, sylus dragged you right back across the sheets, pulling you flush against his chest.
tsk. so close.
“going somewhere, sweetie?”
his voice is a deep, gravelly murmur that vibrates against your back. he didn’t even open his eyes, his silver hair messy and untamed against the dark pillows.
“i want water,” you whisper, a breathless laugh escaping you as you pat his forearm. “and you’re holding me hostage."
“then stay captured,” he mumbles, his face burying directly into the crook of your neck. his warm breath tickled your skin for a second before his lips press a lazy kiss to your pulse point.
you let out a quiet gasp, wriggling in his grip. “sylus, stop! it tickles!”
“no,” he murmurs against your skin, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. his hands slide down to your hips, his fingers pinching your waist to make you squirm even more.
“you are absolutely impossible when you’re sleepy,” you giggle, twisting in his arms until you are facing him. you reach up and deliberately ruffle his already messy hair, shaking the strands until they fall over his closed eyes. “look at you. completely lost your edge now.”
sylus finally cracks an eye open. his crimson eyes are hooded snd thick with affectionate warmth. a slow amused smile pulls at his lips.
“lost my edge, have i?” he echoes softly.
in one fluid motion, he flips his body over, pulling you along with him until you were sitting squarely on his lap, legs automatically straddling his hips. your hands fly to his broad, bare shoulders for balance as you let out a gasp of laughter.
“if you think so, sweetie, you’re welcome to try and break out of this,” he says, hands gently resting on your waist, but his grip tight. he looks up at you, his gaze warm and amused.
“you cheat,” you tease, heart doing a sudden happy flip as you lean down, face just inches from his. “using your size against me."
“i use what works,” he whispers, his thumb capturing your lower lip and pressing down until your mouth parts.
sylus dosen’t give you another second to argue. he tilts his head up and catches your mouth in a lingering, sweet, soft kiss.
the playful bickering melts away into total warmth. it isn’t a demanding, but a lazy, lingering embrace of your lips that leaves you grinning against his mouth.
he nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, stealing little, breathless kisses between light chuckles, his large hands rubbing comforting, rhythmic circles over your hips. you lean into him completely, your fingers combing gently through his hsair fully untangling the strands you just ruined.
when he finally pulls back a fraction of an inch, his breathing is soft, his lips brushing an affectionate kiss against your cheek.
“water can wait,” he murmurs, his voice a low, cozy rumble. “stay right here, sweetie.”
you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder with a content sigh. “fine. but only because you’re warm.”
sylus chuckles softly, pulling the duvet up over both of you and holding you close against his chest. “whatever helps you sleep, kitten.”
xavier loves when you get longer nails so you can scratch his head when he rests it in your lap, and if you stop for even a second he'll whine and peak open his eyes up at you like a disappointed cat until you keep going
sylus runs warm, and most of the time you end up not even covered by his plush duvet, but by him. His arms snug around your waist and his head on your chest the perfect blanket as you fall asleep.
zayne has this cute way of teasing you by stealing your candy on occasion. He'll kiss your cheek then your lips, lulling you into a false sense of affection then will slip the candy right out of your mouth with that slight smile on his face.
caleb puts you an air jail when you're being petty and giving him the silent treatment, and only lets you down if you agree to give him a kiss and tell him why "his pipsqueek is being so moody."
rafayel insists on applying your lipgloss/lipstick for you. He always steals your lip gloss before you can put it on yourself, insisting that his artist's eye can do it better. He'll gently tilt your chin up with two fingers, carefully applying it while studying your face with far more concentration than the task requires. Once he's finished, he'll lean back with a satisfied smile and hum, "Perfect."
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
Sylus isn’t the guy who waits for your birthday to drop something huge on you.
He’ll just… do it. Random Tuesday in March, you wake up to him already dressed, leaning in the bedroom doorway with that lazy half-smirk, tossing a set of keys onto the bed like it’s nothing.
“Get up. Yours now.”
You stare at the key; matte black, sleek logo you recognize instantly. Your brain short-circuits for a solid five seconds.
“…Sylus, what the fuck is this?”
He shrugs. “Your new car, sweetie. Parked downstairs. Figured the matte red would look good with your new gear.”
You’re still blinking at the keys. “You bought me a sports car. On a random day. Because…?”
“Because I saw it and thought you’d look hot driving it.” He says it like that’s the only explanation required. No card, no ribbon, no celebratory card. Just him, already walking toward the kitchen like he didn’t just change your entire driveway situation.
Birthdays and holidays are different with him.
Those are quieter. More private.
On your actual birthday he doesn’t do grand gestures or flashy jewelry. He waits until the apartment is dark, everyone else long gone, and then he sits you down on the couch with nothing but a small velvet box in his palm.
Inside is something small and personal. A tiny silver heart shaped locket with a picture of the two of you in it. It’s the kind where you aren’t posing, not deliberately trying to look good for the camera. It’s a small intimate moment shared between the two of you and even in the picture, his full attention is on you. He’s had it cleaned, strung on a thin chain he picked himself.
No speech. Just him fastening it around your neck with careful fingers, lips brushing the nape before he pulls back to look at you.
“Been carrying that around for a while,” he mutters. “Figured it was time you had it.”
You’re crying before you even realize it. He doesn’t make a big deal, just pulls you into his lap, lets you hide your face in his neck while he strokes your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Valentine’s, Christmas, anniversaries, he keeps it the same. Thoughtful, quiet, stupidly intimate things that mean something only to the two of you: a leather-bound sketchbook filled with his own rough drawings of places you’ve been together, a single pressed flower from the field where you first kissed, a custom knife engraved with the date he decided you were never getting away from him.
No billboards. No parades. No “world’s best girlfriend” mugs.
Just him, quietly proving every day that you’re the only thing he’s ever really wanted to keep.
And then on some random Thursday in July he’ll walk in, drop a set of matte-black keys on the counter while you’re eating cereal, and go “bought you a bike. It’s downstairs. Don’t scratch it.”
You stare at him over the bowl.
He just kisses the top of your head and steals a spoonful of your cereal like he didn’t just casually drop five figures on a whim.
That’s Sylus.
Big gifts whenever the hell he feels like it.
The ones that actually hurt to give, those are saved for the days that matter.
"Is this another one of your pranks?" Sylus glances around for a camera, smirking when he notices your unamused face.
"I'm serious, Sy! If you want one, you should get one drawn up. I'd be happy to sign it so don't worry about that." You can see the moment he realizes this really isn't a prank, given the way the smirk slowly vanishes from his face.
"A prenup implies we'll be getting divorced in the future. Is that something you have planned?" His tone lacks it's usual mirth.
"Of course not. I just figured...you earned all this money. It's not fair for me to just take it if we were to get divorced." Your words make Sylus frown, and a flicker of irritation burns in his eyes.
"We won't be getting divorced." He says through gritted teeth, making you sigh.
"Sylus, I'm not naive. There's always a possibility that something could happen. Love is like that! Maybe one day you wake up and-and you don't love me anymore. You should be allowed to leave without having to wo-"
"No."
"...What do you mean no?" You echo, watching as he suddenly strides over to you, nearly crushing you in a hug. You pat his back gently, suddenly feeling like the tone in the room has changed. He squeezes you tighter, as if worried you'll fade away in his arms.
"There will never come a day where I don't love you. Never. You have half of my soul and all of my heart. Everything I have, everything I built, all of it...is for you." He murmurs the words into your ear, finally meeting your eyes when he's finished. You manage to nod, knowing if you speak too soon you'll likely burst into tears.
"Okay," You concede after a moment of silence, "No prenup."
Sylus hums at your words, pleased, giving you one more squeeze before releasing you from the hug.
synopsis: you can come to sylus anytime you need him. also, some of his men need better training!
tags: fluff/comfort, anxious reader, onychinus guard is dismissive of reader, reader feels like a burden, sylus has none of it, vague threats against anyone who keeps him from his partner, tiny bit suggestive at the end
word count: 1.4k
one, two, three…
another futile count to four.
no matter how many times you guide the air in and out of your lungs, your heart still thrashes in your chest.
on the nightstand, the clock reads 3:06 a.m.
where was he right now?
in times like this, there was only one person who could soothe you. you hadn’t seen much of sylus this week, but the chances of getting through this without him were slim. you could only hope he hadn’t left for the night.
hugging your sides, you pad through the base’s chilly halls, the echo of gruff voices growing louder with each step. above them all, one seems to soar—the one that sings you to sleep through thunderstorms, that greets you at every dawn.
sylus.
you nearly trip as you round the final corner that separates you. but when you finally reach the room where his meetings are held, the hulking figure looming outside gives you pause.
“you need something?”
he’s one of sylus’s men—bruce, if you remember right—but you haven’t spoken to him much. surely, though, he’s seen you around?
swallowing thickly, you wring your hands out in front of you. “i was looking for sylus. i was hoping i could talk to him.”
if he notices the tremor in your body, he doesn’t say anything. “boss is busy right now. you can come back when he’s done.”
when he’s done?
“um…are you sure?” you protest weakly. “he usually doesn’t care if—”
“i’m sure, alright?” for some reason, he sounds exasperated. “look, this deal is important to us, and he doesn’t need any distractions. just wait for him to finish.”
the words bounce in your brain. they feel wrong. you feel wrong. but if your presence ever sabotaged his work, you’d blame yourself for weeks.
biting your lip, you nod once and turn on your heel, dragging your feet back to your shared bedroom.
you’ve been hugging your knees for what feels like hours when the door creaks open. almost immediately, the scent of home fills the room, wrapping around you like the hug you needed earlier.
“sylus?” you croak, pushing yourself up on the mattress. “are…are you free now?”
he pauses for a moment, then flicks the nearest lamp on its lowest setting. in the warm, reddish light, you see his elevated eyebrow. “what do you mean?”
“i know you were in a meeting. i almost went to see you, but the guard said i shouldn't disturb you. so i’ve been waiting here.”
“disturb,” he repeats, like the word is foreign on his tongue. “you…disturb…me?”
his head is angled to the side, like a puppy’s during its first encounter with the bathtub. you decide against telling him this, only nodding instead.
as soon as you do, the shadows of snarl creep onto his face. “why were you coming to see me?”
“i was just anxious, i guess. it wasn’t that much worse than usual.” the back of your neck warms, and you scratch it nervously. “since you usually help me, i thought maybe you could this time, too. but it’s okay,” you rush. “i feel better now.”
he shuts his eyes, letting out a three-second sigh. then, he comes to the bed, sits down beside you, and tucks you into his side. “he’s fired.”
startled, you raise your head as much as his bear paw of a hand allows. “what?”
“the guard you ran into. he’ll be gone by morning,” he says simply.
your heart hammers in your chest again—this time, out of guilt. “but—i’m sure it was a misunderstanding. he was only trying to make sure your meeting went well, and i could have come in at a bad time, and—”
the wry curve of his lips tells you he’s not convinced. “alright, sweetie. let’s say i keep him on. this first time, you’re upset, and he thinks it’s not worth telling me. what happens next, then? you’re hurt, and i don’t find out until it’s too late?”
he takes your silence as a sign to continue.
“if you were in danger and someone kept you from coming to me,” he begins, voice dipping in with conviction, “i’d do much, much worse than fire them. consider this a blessing, sweetie. you’re doing the man a favor.”
you chew your lip and fiddle with your hands, unable to fully believe him. “i guess.”
gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head until your eyes meet. “i want you to see me anytime, no matter the reason. even if you don't have one. your problems are my problems, and my time is yours.”
you can’t hold his gaze for very long—you never can. but when you wrap your arms around his torso, he knows he’s gotten through to you.
“good. now, why don’t you tell me what you were so anxious about?”
you stiffen against him, but only momentarily. “i don’t really want to.”
he lets out a bewildered scoff. “hmm?”
“you’re here now, and i’m happy. i want to focus on that instead,” you say, shoving your face into his chest.
he lets his body buckle slightly from the force, his rich chuckle setting your mind at ease. “alright, then. how was the rest of your day?”
a week later, a taller, bigger, much nicer guard knocks on the dark oak door. nodding your head in thanks, you enter after a moment’s preparation, and the mix of deep voices falls to a hush.
the meeting is over. you know that as soon as sylus’s eyes find yours, softening from warmth and relief. “thank you, morgan,” he calls to the new guard. then, he cuts his eyes across the sleek round table. “i’ll have the room now. follow up in three days.”
scraping their chairs against the hardwood floors, the other men nod their heads and clear out. once the door shuts behind them, sylus turns his chair toward you and pats his thigh. you rush into his open arms without a second thought.
“hi, sweetie,” he murmurs into your hair. “what is it?”
heat rushes to your cheeks. you bite the inside of your left one. “i…”
humming inquisitively, he gives an encouraging squeeze to the side of your waist. “you…?”
“i…am bored.”
pulling back a bit, sylus examines you carefully, checking to see if you’re serious. when all you do is stare back at him, fighting the urge to cover your face, a snort builds to a wheeze, then to a bark of laughter. “and we can't have that, can we?” he teases, eyes twinkling like roses in starlight.
sheepish, you shake your head and try to double down. “we can’t. my problems are your problems.”
“they are. you’re a quick learner,” he rumbles, gently bringing your foreheads together. “how lucky is it that i’m bored, too? had that meeting gone any longer, i would’ve had to remove our honored guests from the base.”
shifting on his lap, you squint down at him. “by kindly asking them to leave, right?”
“something like that,” he replies, and you try to suppress the image of fifteen bodies being flown out the front door. “in any case, what should we do instead?”
“well, there’s this rainforest documentary i want to watch. or we could keep watching that vampire drama, or we could play that game i beat you at last time—”
“i have no memory of that.”
“I do.” you steamroll over him. “or you could walk me through the armory again, or…”
as you spew out options, you’re almost oblivious to the way he maneuvers you in his hold. soon enough, though, you’re intensely aware of the kisses he scatters over your cheeks, stealing your focus until your lips tug into a frown. “you’re not listening, are you?”
“of course i am,” he whispers, hands roaming over your skin. “your ideas are great, kitten. it’s just…there’s no need to rush. why don't we start going down the list, say, an hour from now?”
you can barely nod before he pulls you into a searing kiss, any and all boredom going up in smoke. you don’t know how long you stay there with him, touching until your bodies blur together. an hour, two—you’re not sure, you don’t care.
with the room to yourselves and him in your arms, you have all the time in the world.
