#.my mom just walked in. shes disturbed

[im-smart-i-swear]

the survivior

[ladsonlads]

Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part Two

Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader

Parts -> Part One | Part Two

Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.

A/N -> I'm sorry it took so long. I have been obsessing over trying to make part two perfect but I don't think I can. It's time I share my baby with you, and I really hope you enjoy it.

Tags -> Angst, fluff :)

Trigger Warnings -> Character death, heavily mentions grief. Some parts are suggestive but there is no smut.

Word Count -> 18.8K (it got kinda crazy)

Late October

It was cold, dark and gloomy; the weather a perfect pathetic fallacy to the narrative of your life. The freshly disturbed patch of grass failed to convey the significance of who laid underneath it. It was vexing, how the world continued to spin on it’s axis despite the fact that it stopped spinning for you. 

It hurt to think about the events that led to your undoing. The weeks prior to the moment your mother drew her last breath. You were a cracked vase filled with wilting flowers and overflowing regret. Every breath you took consumed more energy than you could spare and yet the world just. Kept. Spinning. 

“I brought you flowers. Yellow tulips, by the way.” The words felt like lead on your tongue. It was one thing to accept your mother was never coming back, it was another to try to act normal about it. “I know you never cared for them, but I didn’t think leaving a pack of cigarettes on your grave was very tasteful.” You bitterly smiled to yourself at the memories of your mom sneaking a cigarette in the backyard when she thought you were asleep. It was a nasty habit you did everything to rid her of. A fruitless attempt to protect her from the inevitable. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t figured out your epitaph yet. It’s just so hard to condense your entire life into a few words. Plus, they charge by the letter, so I’m trying to be really selective.” It felt weird, speaking into empty space, but you read online that it helped with grief, so you tried anyway. 

That was how you approached most things nowadays. Eating, drinking, sleeping, they all seemed meaningless. But, you knew you couldn’t survive on just antagonism and mourning, so you did it anyway. 

“Zayne called again. I know you told me not to hate him and that it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t bring myself to agree.” 

The moment Zayne told you that the heart that could save your mother’s life was going to someone else replayed in your mind like a scratched vinyl stuck on an aggravating note.

“I got so frustrated by his constant calls that I threw my phone into the ocean.” You let out a sad laugh. “Guess that’s the last time I bring anything with me when I’m walking along the coast.” 

You paused for a moment, feeling stupid. But you had so much to say to her, it all just began spilling out.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I might lose the house. I burned through all my paid leave, and the idea of going back to work for Sylus makes me want to put my head through a wood-chipper. I know I have to, but how can I focus on work when I have nothing left to work for?” You tasted the tears before you felt them, the saltiness reminded you of your weekends at the beach with your mom. You did everything to get out of joining her, you hated the beach, but it was her favourite place to be and in a desperate attempt to cling on to whatever was left of her, you forced it to be yours too.

“I’m sorry I never got you that house you dreamed of, or the dog. I’m sure there are lots of dogs in heaven, and at least the dogs there have been screened. With my luck any dog I would’ve gotten you would’ve been evil.” You teetered around the grievance you truly wanted to apologise for. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t spend much time with you before you passed away. I was so sure you would get the transplant. I tried so hard to save for it. I should’ve been with you. If I knew—” The sobs raked through you with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. You sat down next to her tombstone, leaning your head against the chiseled rock. 

There were moments when you’d wake up, and in the haze of your muddled mind you’d forget she was dead. But then the ache in your body is deciphered by your mind, and you’re reminded of just how much you’ve lost. Maybe that’s why they called it mourning. Grief dawned on you like the rising sun.

Life had a way of being entirely unfair, and there was nowhere to hide from fate’s piercing claws. And as if to ensure you hadn’t forgotten just how cruel life could be, your head whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind you to find the last person you wanted to see.

Sylus was dressed in a long black coat hanging effortlessly off of his broad shoulders, a black dress shirt that really should’ve been buttoned up to the top, and a pair of black slacks that made his long legs look impossibly longer. He looked every bit the cunning grim reaper, and it wasn’t just because he was surrounded by graves.

“I didn’t know you were back in the N109 Zone.” The words came out harsher than you intended as your head returned to it’s position against the rock. 

Sylus stopped in front of you, lowering himself to his haunches so that you would be face-to-face. It stung to look at him, so you focused on picking at the grass instead. 

“I only got back a few hours ago. I heard about your mother. I’m sorry.” Having been deprived of his voice for over a month, you cursed the butterflies that coursed through you like muscle memory. Part of you wished he’d returned disfigured, but you knew it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Ugly or devastatingly beautiful, the storm that was Sylus could not be stopped, only weathered. 

“Sorry that she died or sorry that you weren’t there?” The bitterness in your tone was unfamiliar to you. Even though you knew it was unfair of you to expect him to have stayed, he left immediately after he dropped you off at the hospital and you hoped he’d have been there just a little longer. It didn’t help that you didn’t hear from him until two weeks later, and by then you were too engrossed in your battle against Akso hospital’s medical board to respond. 

“You haven’t been answering my calls; they’re not even going through anymore. You haven’t blocked me, have you?” Sylus countered your question with one of his own. If you cared enough, you might’ve called him out on his diversion. 

“No, my phone broke.” That was an understatement if there ever was one. 

“How long ago?”

“A week.” That much was true and since you couldn’t afford a smart phone, a shitty $30 flip phone weighed down your pocket. 

“And all the times I called before then?” Sylus’s eyes perused you with intensity, and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You weren’t dressed well, in a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you and a matching hoodie. Grieving people were allowed to dress terribly without judgement, Y/N. It’s okay.

“I didn’t feel like picking up.” The grass continued to bare the brunt of your nerves as you answered. The you that wasn’t effectively an orphan would’ve made up some excuse to protect his feelings, but you were resolved to change that. Your mother was strong, independent, and she never backed down from a fight. Not against men like Sylus, and not against her illness. If you wanted to honour her memory then you had to live your life the way she’d want you to.

“Do you have a phone now?” 

You reached into the pocket of your sweatpants to take out the grey flip phone. You watched as Sylus bit back a laugh.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“I don’t need you to get me anything.” You quickly retorted.

“You’re going to need a phone from this century if you’re working for me, Y/N.” He said it so casually, as if you were put on this earth solely to serve him as his accountant. 

“Right, about that…” Your determination to be confident and unapologetic began to dwindle as you wondered how to tell Sylus you needed more time.

“No. Resigning is not an option.” Twelve minutes. It took Sylus twelve minutes to return to his usual controlling self. You were impressed, truly, it was a new record after all. 

“We don’t have a blood pact, Sylus. I can resign if I want to. Besides, that’s not what I was going to say. I need more time off.” You didn’t sound very convincing, but it wasn’t like you could change who you were overnight. It would take a lifetime to unlearn your bad habits. 

Sylus looked conflicted, as if he didn’t know what to say. When he chose to finally open his mouth, you wished he hadn’t.

“I’ve given you a month, Y/N. That’s enough.” His statement came out so matter-of-factly, you wondered if you had imagined it. A month was not nearly enough to recover from losing your mom, but you figured a man who killed people for a living wouldn’t understand. 

“It’s only been two weeks since she died. And I’m sure the temp you’ve got is perfectly competent.”

“The temp doesn’t know the company like you do and I haven’t bothered teaching him on the premise that you were returning. If you’re not back soon I can’t promise you’ll have a job to come back to.” 

The tension in the air dissipated as you began to laugh. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Hysterically. 

“You— You seriously think I care whether or not I have a job? I can barely will myself to eat right now—employment is not my priority.” You wiped back the tears that began to spill out. Their origin unknown, between your hysteria and sorrow, your eyes were constantly puffy.

“People die all the time, sweetheart. It’s no reason to throw your future away.” Sylus stood up straight at the end of his statement, holding his hand out to you. 

The angel on your shoulder whispered that in his own peculiar way, this was his attempt at comforting you. But you stopped listening to that angel when they buried your mom under six-feet of dirt, and you couldn’t help the word vomit that escaped you like water barrelling out of a splintered dam. 

You pushed away his hand, and stood up to look at him with a ferocity you didn’t know you possessed.

“I get that something really dark and twisted must have happened in your youth to make you so heartless, but most people have shitty childhoods, sweetheart. We choose not to be terrible, insufferable people because of it.” The unbridled rage you’d spend so long trying to suppress seeped out of you uncontrollably as you screamed at Sylus. You walked toward him, your anger taking hold of you as you began to push him away. A few months ago you would’ve given anything to touch him, now all you cared about was making him feel a semblance of the pain he instilled in you. 

“Some of us choose to feel our emotions in their entirety, regardless of how much it hurts, because we’re not scared to love and lose. You’re a coward, Sylus and you may think that my mother dying is just an inevitable consequence of life, but my world will never be the same.” In an attempt to calm down, you took a deep breath.

“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.” The word vomit continued, and when you saw the hurt flash briefly within his eyes, you felt the arms of regret begin to sink their claws into you. 

You shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t you.

But before you could take it all back, Sylus’s phone began ringing and you figured from the urgency in which he answered it must’ve been her. 

“I lost track of time, I’ll be right there.” He spoke in a low voice in what you could only assume was an attempt to mask the fact that he was leaving you for something more important, again. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Just go.” You waved him off and turned back around to face your mother’s grave, though now the tears welling up in your eyes couldn’t be entirely attributed to the grief. 

Early November

You weren’t sure time could heal the gaping wound your mother’s passing left behind, but grief had settled into your life like an imposing aunt. It was in your home, touching your things, ruining your food, and never once leaving you alone. It didn’t feel so all-consuming anymore, but it clung onto you constantly like a shadow. 

You were watching the third Harry Potter movie at 8am when you received the eviction notice via Email. You’d been expecting it, ultimately you were behind on rent, but the reason plastered on the paper was exponentially worse than your own incompetence.

…Selling to developers…suburban expansion project…

As if losing your childhood home wasn’t bad enough, they were planning on destroying it. Memories were bound to decay with time, that was an inevitable consequence of being human. Sooner or later you’d forget the way your mom dressed, or the smell of her perfume. Tangible things like photographs, places, they kept those memories anchored. You couldn’t lose the house, it wasn’t an option. 

You spent the next hour trying to reason with your landlord over the phone, but he was committed to selling. He rejected every single one of your proposals, though even you knew they were weak at best. The developers were offering significantly more than market value, there was no way you could beat that. Stupid gentrification. But, your landlord told you he was sympathetic, and the deal hadn’t been finalised just yet. If you could match the developer’s offer by the end of the month, he’d gladly sell it to you instead.

Of course the developer’s offer was $800,000, and by the looks of your financials, you were about $796,312 short. 

Desperate for a catharsis for your unending frustration, you screamed into the throw pillow on your couch until your throat felt raw. Then, you opened up your laptop to figure out a plan. 

30 minutes later you had:

Sell your kidney to an organ broker and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score. 

Dabble briefly in prostitution and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score.

Become a squatter and protest the demolition of your home environmental-activist style. 

“Wow, Y/N. Graduated top of your class and this was all you could come up with, huh?” You muttered to yourself as you stared at the list of terrible ideas. Your mind hadn’t come up with something so horrific since the bed-in-breakfast Mother’s Day fiasco when you were 11. 

The only option that didn’t end in bodily harm or a prison sentence was to work as many jobs as humanly possible for the next few weeks in hopes you could somehow manage to accumulate the deposit for a loan. You could probably sell some appliances too, and maybe revisit the kidney idea if it came to it. 

Despite it being a long-shot, you had to try. You changed into a pair of flared leggings and a sweater. It was basic and borderline mismatched but traversing your explosive closet was a large undertaking you tended to avoid. You dug a copy of your old resume out from your file drawer, after all, it wasn’t like your experience as Onychinus’s accountant was going to do you any good. Further, listing Sylus as a reference would ensure you never got a job again. 

You figured the easiest place to start was the central district of the N109 zone, bars and restaurants there were constantly hiring and from what you’d heard their only requirement was that you had two functioning legs and arms. But when you tried to leave through the door to begin the job search you collided with a formidable wall. 

Since when was there a—

“Where you headed to, Y/N?” The familiar voice was so surprising it made you jump, the action accompanied by a shrill scream.

“What the fuck? Why are you just standing outside my door?” You rarely ever swore and you were sure that if your mother was still alive she’d throw her shoe at you for using the devil’s language. But of all the things you expected to see that morning, Sylus outside your door was not one of them. 

“Is that any way to welcome your old employer?” Sylus stepped into your home without an invitation. Conclusive proof against your theory that he was secretly a vampire. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked again, still staring at Sylus like he sprouted a second head. You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d show up at your place of residence, he never did while you were still his employee.

“I need you to come back.” You choked back a laugh at his ridiculous request. Was he insane?

“Go to hell.” Your vicious response didn’t sway Sylus. 

“I’ve fired an accountant every week since you left. The accounts are in complete disarray, half my businesses are behind on their bills, the other half have been paying the wrong amounts to the wrong companies. My investors are unhappy, my debtors are one week away from assuming I’ve gone bankrupt and I haven’t slept in weeks. Come. Back.” While it stroked your ego to hear that the organisation was suffering in your absence, you couldn’t just forget the terrible way he’d treated you in and out of the workplace. 

“You insisted I was especially replaceable and now you’re saying you can’t replace me?” You chose to remind him of just how horrid of an employer he was, an action he didn’t appreciate. 

“If you’re going to dwell on the semantics I’d rather just cut to the chase. What’s it going to take to get you back?” Sylus’s tone suggested he was truly trying to negotiate with you. Of course a man like him didn’t know how to take no for an answer. 

“Pigs to fly.” You quipped, opening your door in hopes he’d get the hint and leave. 

“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t survive without you.” His desperation went straight to your head, but you stood your ground. 

“Then die.” You tried to shove him out of your doorway, but he was about as easy to move as a truck. 

“Everyone has something they desire, sweetheart. Name your price.” While you were ready to fire up a quick retort, his suggestion reminded you of the very reason you were about to leave the house. 

Perhaps this was a sign; you could swallow your pride if it meant you got to keep your home. 

You pretended to give it thought, sighing loudly in contemplation. “Fine. I want a sign-on bonus. Or in this case, a re-sign-on bonus, I guess…” You trailed off, unsure if he would agree. 

“Alright, how much?” He was quick to accept your terms, and you decided to test the waters of just how desperate he was for your return. 

“A million dollars.” 

“Done.” 

Dammit, you should’ve asked for more. 

“I want a personal driver too, I’m sick of biking to work.” You would’ve been okay with just the bonus, after all, it was insanely generous. But you’d be a fool not to milk this opportunity for what it was worth.

“Anything else, princess?” The condescending nickname only added fuel to the fire as you fired off more requests. 

“I don’t want to share my office with the twins anymore, they’re loud and annoying and they have no respect for the sanctity of my monthly budgets.”

“Okay.”

You masked your shock at his sudden magnanimity. “One last thing. Since you’ve come to the realisation that I am, in fact, a valuable asset to your organisation, you’re not allowed to be a dick to me anymore.” 

“Elaborate.”

“No more calling me stupid or other degrading insults, threatening my job security, threatening my life — just no more threats in general — and if you’re going to assign me extra work that is beyond the scope of my job description, a please and thank you would be nice.”

“You’re pushing it, Y/N.” Of course treating his employees like human beings was the most difficult request. 

“You just agreed to give me a million dollars and being nice to me is where you draw the line?” 

Sylus sighed, deliberating in silence for a moment. When he saw that your resolve was unrelenting, he begrudgingly agreed. He wasn’t sure where your newfound confidence was coming from, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive. 

“Alright, you’ve made your case. I’ll agree to your conditions. Now, please fix it.” 

It took every fibre of your being not to break out into song and dance at your victory. “Let me get my coat.”

______________

You stared at the horrific mess your beautiful spreadsheet had turned in to. This was a disaster. A colossal, unfathomable disaster. “How could you let it get this bad?” Your voice was dripping with fear, it was like staring a train wreck. 

“It wasn’t like it happened on purpose. Besides, if you’d never—” Sylus interrupted his own sentence which you were sure contained an insult, and you could almost hear the evil chuckle resounding in your head at the sight of his obedience. This was going to be fun. 

“This is going to take forever to fix.” It would actually only take the day, but you didn’t need to tell him that.

“I need it fixed by the end of the week. Please.” He looked pained as he added the nicety. Soooooo much fun.

“Add on a massage chair for my office and I’ll get it done by Wednesday.” You wondered just how far you could push his desperation. 

“Deal.” He held his hand out for you to shake and when you did, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Now you could tell people ‘How to Tame Your Dragon’ was loosely based on your life. 

“You know, Sylus, I’m liking this new dynamic.” Your shit-eating grin couldn’t be wiped off of your face no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh I can tell. Now, get to work.” Sylus made a show of pulling out your office chair for you, and when you sat in it for the first time in two months, you felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. And for once, the recollection of your past didn’t hurt as much as it usually did.  

Mid-November

This time around, your employment under Sylus was much more pleasant. Surprisingly, he’d actually adhered to your conditions. 

The twins were slightly offended that you no longer wanted to share your office with them, but their gratefulness for your return trumped any antagonism they had for you. You were kind of a celebrity in Onychinus’s executive team, their saviour, if you will. 

But, the enjoyment of your newly established status could not be savoured. Undoing months of mistakes was turning out to be positively exhausting. You were an accountant; socially awkward, stuck to her Excel sheets, spent most of her free time indulging in shitty rom-coms. You were not built for briefing CEOs, Chairmen, investors, subsidiaries and of course, debtors, on your commitment to stability via video call.

Sylus insisted it had to be you, even though he usually handled the bureaucratic part of the organisation. Something about him not being able to answer their questions regarding the numbers. You told him you would tell him what to say through an ear piece like a spy movie, but he responded with a resounding no. 

It was more like ‘hell will freeze over before I turn into a glorified puppet, Y/N, blah blah blah’.

Every single one-on-one conference call made you feel like you were getting hives. Not to mention the active effort it took you to refrain from making stupid jokes at every opportunity. When the last one with the representative from Onychinus’s main bank was over, you had officially smoothed over all bad blood between Onychinus and it’s stakeholders.

Giving yourself a moment to recalibrate from the sheer amount of social interaction you had been subjected to, you glared at the shared calendar event. ‘Miss Hunter’s Birthday in 13 days’.

You tried to distract yourself from that familiar sinking feeling in your gut with your work. Sylus never remembered your birthday, but it wasn’t like it mattered. You were his accountant, he was your boss. That was the extent of your relationship, even though you’d both said things to each other that would cause your HR department, if you had one, to self-emulate. But in the chaos of buying your home, going back to work and learning how to navigate life with your unwanted companion; grief, you’d forgotten all about your feelings for Sylus.

They weren’t gone but they were muted, like a voice screaming out to you while your head was underwater. Most of the time they were easy to ignore, but in times like these they were too loud to overlook.

You couldn’t dwell on your self-pity for long because there was a knock at your door. No one ever knocked on your door, people just tended to barge in.

“Come in?” Confusion dripped from your voice. When the door opened to a pair of twins with shameful smiles, you knew they were about to ask you for a favour.

“We… fucked up.” Three words you never wanted to hear coming out of either Luke or Kieran’s mouth.

“What have you done?”

“Long story short. Boss sent us to pick up a gem for Miss Hunter’s birthday. It’s really rare. The man who owns them is this older, heart of gold type old guy who refuses to sell to nefarious people because of his outdated principles. He wouldn’t give it to us, said something about us being part of Onychinus. We knew if boss didn’t get this gem today he’d have our heads displayed on mantels in his office, so we threatened the old man with a gun and then an entire arsenal of security appeared out of thin air and we were blacklisted from the property.” Kieran’s explanation left you astounded. 

The twins had their fair share of asinine mistakes, but this one might have taken the cake. 

“You threatened an old man with a gun…” 

“Yes.” Kieran responded. 

“Over a gem?” You asked in disbelief. 

“A very rare gem!” Luke corrected. 

“Huh. How am I supposed to help?” It was a genuine question, you didn’t really see a way out of this one. 

“Can you go and convince the old man to sell the gem to you?” Kieran’s request made your eyes widen in protest.

“No way! I’ve had my fill of uncomfortable business meetings.” And wasn’t that the truth. If you had to see one more man in a business suit ask you ‘if you even knew what you were talking about’ you might throw your laptop into the first body of water you could find. 

“Please, Y/N. Sylus will kill us. Do you want our deaths to hang over your conscience?” 

Luke’s question was an innocent hyperbole, but at the mention of deaths hanging over your conscience, you were reminded of your mom. Your face dropped, your fingers slowly forgetting what they were supposed to type. Kieran, the more observant twin, elbowed Luke.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I’m not going to burst into tears.” You weren’t sure that was true quite yet, but fake it till you make it, right? 

“Will you help us? Please. We’ll owe you big time.” The line was clearly rehearsed since they said it in unison, or maybe it was some weird twin telepathy thing. Either way, it freaked you out so much you agreed. 

“Fine, what’s the address?”

_____________

You knocked on the large wooden door of a beautiful home. It was classically designed, a perfect intersection between modernity and the timeless complexity of archaic house designs. It was rare to see homes like these in a society that prided itself on progress. 

When you heard the sound of soft feet shuffling toward the door, you felt the guilt eat at you internally. You were tricking an old man into selling a gem to people he very reasonably did not want to sell to.

“Y/M/N?” 

Did he— why did he call you by your mother’s name?

“That was my mother, I’m her daughter, Y/N.”

“Oh, thank god, I was beginning to think I’d finally lost it. Come in, come in.” 

Your interest had been piqued, and you forgot all about the gem as you entered the old man’s home.

“I must say, I’m surprised you’re here. Did your mother send you?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “She passed away just over a month ago.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, dear. Are you alright?” The question was filled with so much warmth it made tears well up in your eyes. Your mother never had any friends, and you were estranged from your extended family. You were all alone in your grief, and hearing someone who knew your mom in some capacity ask you if you were alright felt bittersweet.

“Yeah. I’m doing okay. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know her?”

“You don’t know? I figured that was why you were here.” 

Right. The reason you were here, the gem.

“No, I’m actually here entirely coincidentally, I came to acquire a gem.”

“Which gem were you after, dear?” He asked the question as he looked around his living room for something.

“The Painite one.”

He stopped pacing and turned to you with an accusatory stare. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to those two rowdy boys who came by earlier, right?”

“Well…” You couldn’t lie to him. He looked like the old man from ‘Up’, it was entirely unfair. 

“I’m afraid I can’t sell to you. I’m concerned you’ve even gotten yourself wrapped up in such a terrible organisation.” He shook his head, his disappointment evident in his tone. 

“Look, I know what you’ve heard, but most of the rumours you hear about Onychinus don’t have a modicum of truth to them.”

“Then why hasn’t your boss cleared them up?” A great question. 

“In this business its good to have a reputation that instills fear in others. You’ve seen what people do for Protocores and black-market items. Onychinus serves as a… regulatory body of the underworld, the only people they harm are those that harm others.” The practiced speech came from years of listening to Sylus give it to yourself and others. 

“I don’t know dear, I’ve heard some horrific things about their leader, Sylus.” You were probably responsible for a few of those rumours…

“The only horrific thing about him is his sharp tongue. Seriously, he has a way of finding your worst insecurity and then using it to drag you through the dirt.” Recognising the unhelpful tangent, you digressed.

“But when it comes to business, he’s fair and when someone hurts the people he cares about, he’s merciless. He has a good heart, it’s just encased under a very thick layer of stone.” When he didn’t look convinced, you continued. 

“In fact, he wants this gem for a woman. She’s special to him and its her birthday in a few days. She’s a hunter, by the way, she saves lives. So, even if you don’t want to sell to Sylus because he’s probably half demon, you should sell it to her. You know, by proxy.” The argument was a stretch but you couldn’t help your rambling. 

“You are the spitting image of your mother.” 

The comment caught you off-guard.

“You think so?”

“I knew your mother when she was your age. She used to sing live at a bar I frequented with my friends. It was a simpler time, before wanderers attacked. I was head over heels in love with her, and I knew she felt the same way about me. But, she got wrapped up with the wrong guy, a real bad man, and it took finding out she was pregnant with you to break it off with him.” He recounted his past as he continued to search his drawers for something, when he came back to the couch in front of yours, he handed you a photo.

It was of your mother, except she was much younger. She was on a stage performing, a part of her life she never told you about. She looked happy and was glowing with the kind of ethereal beauty that never dwindled with time. He was right, you looked a lot like her. 

“Can I keep this?” You looked up at the man, and he gave you a small nod. 

“Of course. You know, I offered to help her when I found out, said I’d raise the baby as my own, but she told me I was destined for more than she could give me. Said she had to do this on her own. She was stubborn but she loved boundlessly, Y/N, just like you.”

You were confused, this man hadn’t known you for very long, how could he know such a thing? “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what that Sylus man has done to deserve your adoration, but I can tell you love him. And for you to come here on his behalf to convince me to sell him the rarest gem in the world for another woman? You truly do have your mother’s heart.” 

His words sprouted doubt and introspection. Why were you trying so hard to get Sylus such a romantic gift when it was meant for someone else? Were you secretly a masochist?

“If it’s alright with you Y/N, I’d love to get to know you. Your mother was my first love, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to about her.” 

You gave him the sincerest smile you could come up with. “I’d like that. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about her either.”

“As for the gem, I’ll sell it to you but only if you promise to love a man who will go to these lengths for you, not someone else.” 

“I promise.” You’d promise to try, at least. You told the man, who you now knew was Dr Jeffery Hunt the geologist, that you needed to get back to work. You exchanged contact information with a promise to catch up later and trade stories about your mom. 

You left the house with the rarest gem in the world in one hand, and an infinitely more valuable picture of your mother in the other. 

___________

You walked toward your office where Luke and Kieran should have been to find the door slightly ajar. You stopped just outside the door when you heard Sylus’s voice from inside your office.

“You sent Y/N to get the gem? Was the task too difficult for the two of you?” You tried to sympathise with the twins, but it was kind of funny to see Sylus berate someone else for once.

“The owner said he wouldn’t sell to Onychinus—” Kieran’s attempt at an explanation was shot down instantly.

“So you pick some random person off the street and send them in instead. You don’t send the girl the gem is for to go retrieve her own present. You have completely ruined the surprise.”

Wait, what?

“No, it’s fine, we sent Y/N not Miss Hunter.”

“Miss Hun— why would you assume it’s for her?” The question hung in there for an uncomfortable moment, after all you assumed the same thing. 

“Her birthday’s in a few days.” Luke timidly added. 

“How do you know that?” 

“It’s in the shared calendar.”

“Fuck.” 

With your ear plastered shamelessly against the door, you smiled to yourself. He had a bad habit of putting personal events in the shared calendar.

“The gem was for Y/N. Thanks to you imbeciles I have to figure something else out.” 

Why was the gem for you? Was it poisonous? You started down at the velvet box in your hand and wondered if the gem was secretly a teeny tiny bomb. 

“Is it Y/N’s birthday soon too?” Kieran’s question offended you. Your birthday was in March and both he and Luke were at your celebratory birthday dinner last year. 

“No, that’s in March. It’s to celebrate her 3rd year with Onychinus. Although now I’m wondering if your time here has come to an end.” It was kind of sadistic, but it was comforting to know that Sylus threatened other people’s job security over minor inconveniences too. 

“No! Please, we promise we’ll make it up to you.” 

You stopped listening to the conversation as you opened the box in your hand. The gem glistened under the artificial lights as questions fired off in your brain. He wanted to give this gem to you? How did he even remember the day you started at Onychinus? And he knew your birthday?

Before you could search for the answers, the sound of footsteps approaching the door made you panic. You tried fruitlessly to escape the long hallway but Sylus stormed out before you could.

“I um, got that gem for you.” You pretended you weren’t eavesdropping and held the gem out to him, but he pushed it back toward you. 

“Thanks. I was going to have it turned into a necklace, but since the cat’s out of the bag, you can decide what to do with it.” He clearly knew you’d heard everything and gave the twins a pointed glare as they scurried out of your office. 

“It’s really too much. Most employers get their employees a gift card or something.” You tried to hand it back again, but he was unrelenting. 

“I’m not most employers, and you definitely aren’t most employees.” The loaded compliment made you bite back a smile. 

“In that case, a necklace would be nice. I have a photo of my mom when she was my age, she wore a necklace with a similar looking gem. Do you think you could find someone who can copy the design? It would mean a lot. I’d pay for it, of course.” You kept the photo in your wallet now, it quickly became one of your favourites. When you passed the photo to him, he looked at it for far longer than necessary. 

“Consider it done, and your money’s no good with me. Save it for something else.” He paused for a moment, took a photo of the necklace on his phone and returned the photograph. “I see where you get your beauty from.” The comment was so nonchalant and inconsistent with Sylus’s usual dialogue that you were left speechless. Your heart battered against your ribcage as if it were trying to escape and mount itself onto him instead. Traitorous organ. 

You watched him turn around and walk toward his office. The sight of him walking away from you brought back memories of that day in the graveyard and what you’d said to Sylus before he left. 

“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.”

The guilt was eating away at your conscience, and you knew you had to let him know that you didn’t mean what you said. Especially not now. 

“Sylus, wait.” He stopped just as his hand reached the doorknob of his office door and looked up at you expectantly.

You raked your mind for the right thing to say, and Sylus didn’t make a sound as you prolonged the silence. 

“If you died, I’d mourn you.” And you meant it. You maintained eye contact despite the urge to look away from his intense gaze in an attempt to convey your sincerity. 

He shook his head with a slight chuckle in response, and walked into his office wordlessly. 

You figured he hadn’t given what you said a second thought. It was foolish to think you could ever hurt the impenetrable Sylus’s feelings. You weren’t even sure he had feelings. 

But, unbeknownst to you, when Sylus closed the door behind him, he felt himself let out a breath that alleviated a pressure in his chest he didn’t know he’d been carrying. What you’d said to him in the graveyard weighed on him like an uncomfortable tumour. 

Sylus knew you were right, but the idea of no one caring for him never bothered him before, not until you said it. It dawned on him that the only person who’s idea of him actually affected how he thought of himself was yours. 

Late-November

“Finish up, we have a reservation at six.” At the sound of your boss’s  voice, you looked up from your computer screen. Your eyes were watery from staring at the ledger for hours but you still couldn’t reconcile the $15.70 that was missing. It was driving you insane.

“Was there a meeting I forgot existed?” The calendar looked empty from where it stood on your second monitor. Well, it was empty now that Sylus deleted the shared calendar event for Miss Hunter’s birthday which should’ve been yesterday. 

“No, it’s just us. I’m taking you to dinner. Now hurry up.” You couldn’t help the frown on your face. There was surely an ulterior motive. 

“Taking me to dinner? Are you asking me out on a date?” You were teasing; hell would freeze over before Sylus would ask anyone out on a date. Though, maybe he already had, after all he was busy yesterday…

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re celebrating your third year with Onychinus. As an employer I believe rewarding long-term employees can strengthen their loyalty to the company.” He regurgitated the words like they were toxic. 

“You stole that from the last issue of Forbes magazine. I would know since I was the one who gave you the article.” It was titled ‘Ten foolproof ways to make your employees like you’ and you thought it would be funny to leave it on Sylus’s desk. 

“And I’m responding to your feedback like number 4 on that list suggested. Now, do you want to go to this dinner or should I ask someone else?” 

You quickly scrambled out of your seat, you couldn’t miss out on a chance to see Sylus actively try to be a regular boss. Who could say no to dinner and a show?

“No, no, I’ll go.” You grabbed your bag off of the floor and followed Sylus out of the building. You asked him a series of questions about where you were going, when you’d be back, if you were getting paid for the time you were forced to spend with him, but he answered none of them. 

Sylus was driving for all of 2 minutes before you began to draft an appreciation letter to the inventor of seatbelts in your head. 

“You know, you may be harder to kill than a regular person, but I will die if you crash this car.” Pleading for your life in an expensive sports car was not how you expected to go. 

“It’s a little early in the night for your theatrics, Y/N.” Sylus’s deadpan tone did nothing to soothe your concerns as he turned yet another sharp corner with aggressive speed. 

“It’s also a little early in my life to die.” You unhelpfully added.

“Relax, will you? I’ve never crashed before.” 

Well, there’s a first time for everything. You thought as you tightly gripped the handle of the door. You found yourself suddenly missing the middle-aged man who would grouchily drive you to and from work. At least he drove like he valued his life. 

 _______

When you arrived to the place in one piece you felt severely under dressed. Sylus was wearing his regular attire, a suit without the tie, and you were dressed in linen pants and a turtleneck. Sylus never enforced a business dress code, though in that moment you found yourself wishing he did.

The restaurant was multi-level and sat at the top of a mountain. The exterior screamed affluence and you were sure everyone who dined there was in a different tax-bracket. Sylus reserved a table on the rooftop which unfortunately meant you had to ascend four levels in your mediocre outfit that made you stick out like a sore thumb. 

When you eventually reached your table, you quickly hid in your seat. While it was unrealistic to assume anyone would pay you any attention but your embarrassment was usually irrational. Nor, did it help that Sylus naturally made heads turn wherever he went. He was freakishly tall and unnervingly handsome; next to him anyone struggled to look attractive.

“You’re in a rush. Hungry?” Sylus asked across from you as you buried your face in the menu. You didn’t feel like explaining how being out with him made you feel insecure, so you forewent a response. 

The waiter quickly returned with a bottle of wine. Of course Sylus’s favourite wine was known universally. Why wouldn’t it be? He practically ruled the N109 Zone.

“Thanks, she’ll have a mojito.” Before you could tell the waiter not to bring you your favourite cocktail, he was gone.

“I’m not drinking.” Your protest fell on deaf ears. “Drinking with your boss is like number 1 on the list of things you shouldn’t do if you value your job.”

“You don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me, Y/N. You’ve done that plenty of times sober.” Sylus smirked as he made the dry joke and you held back the urge to step on his foot under the table.

Never mind. You needed a drink pronto.

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Artichokes! I said the artichoke salad looks good.” You could tell Sylus wasn’t convinced, but he dropped the matter anyway. 

“Order whatever you’d like.” 

“There’s no prices on the menu.” You flipped it around every which way but not a single price appeared.

“Sweetheart, the people who can afford to dine here aren’t too concerned with prices. Don’t worry and order what you wish.”

Aw, how sweet. Sylus thought you enquired about the prices because you were concerned about overspending. As if. You knew that man’s financials inside and out, if anything, you wanted to order the most expensive things on the menu. 

“Jeez, my bad Mr One-Percent.” Your joke was not well received.

“Can we have one night without your incessant sarcasm?” The plea sounded genuine, but it was denied. 

“We could, but that’s no fun.”

“I find you painfully unfunny, Y/N.” You smiled to yourself at his blatant lie. Everyone found you funny. 

Before you could think of a retort, Sylus pulled out a large velvet box and slid it toward you on the table.

“What’s this?”

“The necklace.”

You opened it up eagerly and the sight of it brought pure bliss to your heart. It was exactly like the one your mother wore, and it was even more beautiful in person.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Feeling slightly remorseful for your attitude prior to the gift-exchange, you gave him a sheepish smile.

Sylus watched you lift it up to put it on, but quickly interjected. “Allow me.” He stood up, walking toward your seat. Flushed, you clumsily turned around so your back was facing him. You felt goosebumps on your skin when his cold hands bunched your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of wired nerves in their wake.

You took your hair from his hand to hold it up, the mere feeling of your fingers brushing his gave you heart palpitations. The act was way too intimate, and despite how it good it felt to have him so close, your brain knew it was safest to pray it would be over soon.

When Sylus was done he spun you around to face him and shamelessly observed his handiwork. “It looks good.” Your brain short-circuited the moment your eyes met his, so you sat in front of him in complete silence.

The moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Sylus? Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!” You both turned to the source of the voice to see Miss Hunter in a beautiful baby blue gown. As if you didn’t feel bad enough about your choice in attire. You began to smile until you noticed that the arm linked with hers belonged to your mortal enemy. Dr Zayne. 

You got up to greet them, despite your primal urge to push Zayne off the roof, but Sylus beat you to it. “Miss Hunter, always a pleasure.” You tried not to gag at the sight of Sylus being so gentlemanly. It became particularly hard when he kissed the top of her hand. 

“I didn’t know you knew Dr Zayne.” The comment slipped out of Sylus’s tense smile with a twinge of what you thought was hostility. Was he jealous that she was with Dr Zayne? Were you jealous that he was jealous? Are you in a soap opera?

“Oh, he’s a childhood friend andmy doctor! I’m very lucky. How do you know him?” Before you could whisper to Sylus to make up some excuse, he was firing off information about your personal life to the last two people you wanted to discuss your personal life with. 

“He was Y/N’s mother’s doctor.” Everyone went tense, everyone except for Miss Hunter, of course. 

Your eyes followed her as she turned to you, praying she wouldn’t ask about your mother’s health. Instead, she praised your nemesis. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?”

You wanted to scream in protest. You wanted to swing a chair into Dr Zayne’s head, and then use the broken scraps to beat him to a pulp. But you opted to force a painful smile instead. 

“He’s definitely something.” You looked right at Zayne, hoping he’d understand the implications of your backhanded compliment.  

“Well, we were just here to celebrate my birthday yesterday, but the hostess said it was all booked out and silly Zayne forgot to make a reservation. We just came up to the rooftop to get some pictures, but you guys should enjoy your dinner!” Miss Hunter’s polite dismissal was the perfect opportunity to end the painfully awkward interaction and move on with your night. 

“Thanks.” You were about to return to your seat when Sylus decided to continue with his commitment to ruining your life.

“You guys should join us, the more the merrier, right Y/N?”

The question you had no idea how to answer only poked at the jar of pent up murderous rage you were trying to suppress. It wasn’t like you were subtle about your hatred for the Doctor, why the hell was Sylus inviting them to stay?

“Right.” You couldn’t have sounded less sincere if you tried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to focus on making it out of this building without a homicide charge.

When Miss Hunter happily agreed, Sylus quickly waved down a waiter and made them transform your two-seater table into a four-seater. Unfortunately for you, the seating arrangements somehow ended up with you next to Zayne and Sylus next to Miss Hunter . 

Zayne could feel the hostility radiating off of you in waves, but he was too scared to do anything about it. 

“Happy birthday, by the way.” You offered Miss Hunter the nicety, since she was really the only innocent person at the table. Your unfounded hatred for her took the back-burner when Zayne was around. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I love your necklace, where did you get it?” Yet another question you didn’t know how to answer. If this was how the entire night was going to be you might as well cut your losses and take your chances with jumping off the roof.

“It’s um, custom made.” You avoided Sylus’s glare. 

“Well it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment. Her sunshine-y attitude could rival yours. 

“Sylus knows the guy who made it, I’m sure he could get one for you too.” You glanced at him only to see him quirk an eyebrow at your response. Was he seriously mad? You were practically the world’s greatest wingwoman. 

When Miss Hunter turned to look at him, he quickly shut her down.  “He retired right after making that piece, actually. Something about getting arthritis.” 

He was definitely lying. You weren’t sure why he was gatekeeping this jeweller and you never got the chance to ask. 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Hey Zayne, you’ve been awfully quiet. Say something!” Miss Hunter gave him a playful push on the shoulder as she teased him. The sight would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for satan’s incarnate sitting inches away from you.

“Yeah Zayne, how was work? Steal anymore hearts lately?” You asked the deceivingly innocuous question while breaking apart a piece of bread. The double-entendre was like a secret you both shared; though the idea of sharing anything with that waste of space made you inscrutably angry. 

Sylus silently observed the interaction with curiosity. Your passive-aggressiveness was a trait he thought you only reserved for him. You were always nice, to everyone. Seeing you treat Zayne so coldly was like witnessing a beaver play the piano. It was unnatural. 

“Work went as well as expected.” Zayne’s clipped reply left no room for further discussion. The conversation came to do a lull, and you took it as the opportunity to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You immediately beelined away from the table that currently situated your nightmare blunt rotation and toward the women’s bathroom that was positively Zayne-free. 

The bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the restaurant but you didn’t get to admire it before you splashed water on your face in an attempt to cool down. There was no way you could last an entire dinner next to Zayne. Maybe you could say you were feeling sick. Probably a bad idea when he’s a doctor. Work emergency wasn’t plausible, your boss was at the table. What if you just ran away? You could live with the shame and embarrassment.

You looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed the heavens for your terrible luck. Seriously, you must’ve been a serial killer in your past life to deserve this fate. It was a never-ending series of unfortunate events, and you were desperate for a break. 

When you eventually left the bathroom, Zayne was standing right outside the door. He startled you, but the moment the shock wore off your face morphed into a deadly glare. 

“Look, I know you think I’m a terrible person but—”

“Monster is the term I’d use, but go on.” You rudely interrupted Zayne. He chose not to acknowledge your comment. 

“I rarely get to spend time with MC and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t ruin her birthday dinner because of me.” It didn’t take long for you to realise that MC must’ve been Miss Hunter’s first name. 

Zayne ruined everything he touched, he needed no help from you. 

“I’m sorry, does the fact that I’m angry at you for letting my mother die put a damper in your dinner plans?”

“Yes it does, actually.” Zayne responded quickly. He either didn’t understand sarcasm or was an even bigger dick than you thought.

“Then might I suggest you take her someplace else. It’s your fault you couldn’t get a table here. Why should I have to suffer because your incompetence knows no bounds?” You couldn’t think of a time you’d insulted someone so much in such quick succession. Dr Zayne brought out the worst in you, but you could reflect on your actions later. Right now you were at war. 

“We are perfectly capable of having an amicable dinner.” 

You rolled your eyes at his condescending tone. “You might be, I’m not that mature.” 

“Y/N. We’re both adults.” He pleaded.

“Bite me.” 

Before Zayne could open his mouth again, Sylus interrupted.

“Everything all good here?” For once in your life, you were grateful for Sylus’s interruption. 

“No.” You said.

“Yes.” Zayne also said, at the exact same time.

“Zayne you should head back to the table. Miss Hunter's waiting for you.” Zayne didn’t think twice before taking the out and you internally flipped off his retreating form.

Sylus grabbed you by the forearm, his grip tight as he dragged you to a secluded part of the rooftop and away from the bathrooms. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked the moment you stopped moving, his hand still gripping onto your arm like a vice. 

“Can you let go? You’re hurting me.” He quickly released you, his eyes washing over with something you couldn’t recognise as you soothed the part he’d rubbed raw. 

“Why are you acting so childish?” His question would've angered you had you not been angry already.

“I hate his guts.” The response did not help your case, but you weren’t very articulate when you were upset. 

“What did he do to you?” Sylus’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke in a low tone that was laced with danger. You didn’t think too much of his strange reaction, Sylus acting strange was pretty much the only consistent thing in your life lately. 

You gnawed on your lip, unsure of how to respond. Your grievance against the world-renowned doctor was one you’d always kept to yourself. After all, everyone had nothing but praise for the brilliant Dr Zayne. 

“Y/N, if he touched you I’ll—” Your eyes quickly widened in shock at his interpretation.

“No! Nothing like that. It’s just, a few days before my mom died, a heart came in that was a match. But there was this other guy who was younger and needed it just as badly. The policy was that the hospital's medical board would vote on who got the heart and the entire board, Zayne included, unanimously agreed that the heart should go to the other guy.” They said it wasn't personal, that it had everything to do with survival rates, but there was no way to detach personhood from medicine.

You realised that when you said it out loud, your hate seemed unfounded. “I know it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he didn’t even try to give my mom a fighting chance. He didn't say anything to sway them, he just silently agreed. He was supposed to be her advocate.” The frustration began to boil over, and before you knew it there were tears welling up in your eyes.

“God, I spent every last dollar of my paycheque to make sure she got the greatest medical care money could buy. Everyone said he was the best, but when it really mattered, he did nothing for her. I was such an idiot.” There was an uncontrollable fountain of tears streaming down your face, and you were grateful for Sylus’s decision to drag you to somewhere secluded. 

The familiar tendrils of an oncoming panic attack began to wash over you as you began to hyperventilate. No matter how much you wanted to blame Dr Zayne, or the universe, or your shitty luck, the only person you could really blame was yourself. You sent her to that hospital, you convinced her to hold on for a transplant, you spent her last months on this Earth slaving away in another city instead of by her side. There was no way to get that time back. 

“Y/N, look at me. It’s not your fault.” Sylus’s voice was like a beacon of light that led you through the dark tunnel you were trapped in. He cradled your face in his hands, wiping away your tears as they continued to stream down your face. But when your tears showed no signs of slowing, he pulled you into his arms, his hands holding your tear-stricken face against his chest.

He ran his long fingers through your hair as he whispered everything you wanted to hear. "It’s not your fault. It’s okay to hate him. It will get easier."

You weren’t sure how long you spent with your face buried in his chest, but by the time you’d returned to reality, his white dress shirt was slightly transparent where your tears soaked through the material. 

You laughed a little at the sight, and the corners of Sylus’s lips raised ever so slightly at the sound. When he saw you were okay, Sylus began to speak. “Don’t move. I’ll grab your bag and we’ll get out of here.”

Before he could leave you tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Hey, I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.” You truly were. Sylus did not deserve to be subjected to yet another one of your meltdowns, but he seemed to have a habit of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“No it's my fault, I ruined it by inviting them to join us. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sylus then manoeuvred through the restaurant toward the nightmare table. When he returned with your bag in one hand and the other outstretched toward you, your heart skipped a beat. Or two. He played the role of the knight-in-shining-armour quite seamlessly, and he looked every bit the handsome prince charming. You tried to remind yourself why it was so dangerous to be attracted to a force like Sylus, but when he smiled at you like you were the only two people in the room, all caution was thrown to the wind. 

_____________

In the spirit of making things up to you, you made Sylus take you to a restaurant of your choosing. It was a hole-in-the-wall dumpling place that charged so little one would question if they were serving real meat. But you never found better dumplings, so you took the risk anyway.

The dynamic was completely subverted as you sat on the table that was slightly sticky with cheap cleaning chemicals. Sylus was the one who looked out of place, his suit was unarguably the most expensive thing in the room and it brought joy to your miserable night to see him out of his comfort zone.

“How did you find this place?” The question was warranted, other than you two, the only other occupants in the restaurant were a few middle-schoolers.  

“I used to come here a lot with my friends in high school.”

“Did they all die from food poisoning?” Sylus seemed proud of his quick-witted joke. You gave him a pointed glare to convey just how unfunny that joke was. 

“Funny, but no. We just drifted apart after we graduated.” The clipped reply shut down any further inquiry. You thought back to the fond memories you had in that restaurant. Things were different when you didn’t yet know the cost of failure; before you knew what you’d be losing. And while everyone may have moved on from this small town in the N109 Zone, you never left. 

“Do you even have any friends?” You choked on your drink at the question. He was genuinely asking and the worst part was, you really didn’t.

Your constant struggle to make ends meet and maintain a high GPA for your academic scholarships made it impossible to have a social life. It didn’t help that you went to a college you couldn’t afford. It was hard to find people to relate to when everyone had grown up with silver spoons. Then after you graduated you landed at Onychinus, and it wasn’t exactly a friendly environment.

“Of course I have friends.” Your lie was a feeble attempt to preserve the last of your dignity. Sylus had seen you at your absolute worst, but there was something extremely dehumanising about letting him know you were insanely lonely.

“Really, who?” His genuine surprise only made your insecurity worse.

“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Plus, you wouldn’t know them.” 

“Try me.” Of course he wouldn’t drop it. When has Sylus ever let something go?

“Well, there’s Mr Demir, and Luke and Kieran, and my newly acquired friend Dr Hunt.” In a desperate attempt to keep up your lie, you pretty much just named all the people you knew. 

“Y/N, that’s the man who sells you your sandwiches, my assistants, and a geologist who sold you a gem.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that no one likes a know-it-all?” 

“I think you should get out more. Maybe tone down the sarcasm and you might just make a friend or two.” Your jaw-dropped in faux shock at his unsolicited advice.

“You’re one to talk, your best friend is a mechanical crow.” You snuck a dumpling off of his plate while he was distracted.

“I don’t need friends, they’re unnecessary burdens.” He took a swig of his beer. You thought he’d burst into flames if he drank anything other than red wine, but he adapted to his surroundings with little effort.

You put a hand on your heart as if in pain and jokingly gave him a solemn look.“Then why would you wish such a cruel fate onto me?”

“Because I hate seeing you this miserable, Y/N.” The amusement from your banter died a quick death at his confession. You thought you kept it together most of the time, though bawling your eyes out in the N109 Zone’s hottest restaurant probably didn’t do that facade any good. But for the most part, you handled the death of your mother relatively well. 

“I’m not miserable. Not all of the time at least. Like right now, I’m only mildly annoyed!” You tried to change the topic the only way you knew how, with humour, but Sylus wasn’t budging.

“You take care of everyone but yourself and all it’s done is isolate you. There needs to be a give and take, sweetheart. People don’t like feeling useless.” He spoke to you softly, as if he was scared the timbre of his voice would cause you to shatter into a million pieces. 

There was a sinking feeling in your stomach that followed his oddly specific guidance. He seemed to know more about you than you thought he did, and you were torn between feeling seen and feeling judged. 

“That’s sound advice. Guess you’ve been reading more magazines.” You were grasping at straws, willing to try anything to get the unwanted spotlight off of your inadequacies. 

“You also need to learn how to accept help without downplaying your problems.” 

“Okay, okay. You sound like my mother. Has her soul possessed you?” There you go Y/N. Play the dead mom card, that’ll work. 

He chuckled at your joke. You knew he found you funny.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Yeah, the manufacturers didn’t include an off-switch. No refunds, sorry.” You stuffed a dumpling in your mouth as the tension subsided. 

“Oh, I’m not returning you, sweetheart. They’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” While you knew he was probably referring to the value you brought his company as his accountant, you couldn’t stifle the butterflies that wreaked havoc in your stomach.

You didn’t move when Sylus’s car stopped outside your house. 

“Thanks for tonight, I had fun. Sorry it didn’t go to plan.” You turned to him after you unbuckled your seatbelt and the tight confines of the car felt even smaller.

“It’s fine, I liked this version of events better anyway.” His low voice reverberated through the small distance between you, nestling in your heart that was beating unhealthily fast. 

“Me too. Next time you take a girl to dinner you ought to let her know if she’s supposed to dress like she’s going to the met gala.” Your advice had a bitter undertone because part of you still wished you could be the only girl he’d take to dinner. 

“I usually do, but this particular girl doesn’t need a fancy dress to be the most beautiful girl in the room.” The candid compliment made the butterflies do summersaults, and while their gymnastics routine continued, you found yourself at a loss for words.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Sylus leaned over the centre console and opened the door for you, completing the chivalrous act of opening the door for you in his own unique fashion. He was so close, all it would take was one small move and his lips could’ve been on yours.

“Goodnight.” You barely got the word out through the sudden bout of breathlessness you were experiencing. And when you were finally encased in the familiar four walls of your home, you thought about every moment you shared with Sylus and how different he seemed from the man you knew before. 

The weekend passed by in a blur. The necklace that looked like a carbon copy of your mom’s was nestled on your neck. A permanent reminder that made ‘Operation Sylus: No More’ infinitely harder to achieve. 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him to stop being a dick, because what you thought would be an easy feat was beginning to feel like climbing a mountain with a peak you couldn’t even see. 

You were staring at the list on your notes app on your brand new phone in hopes of searing it into your memory. 

Operation Sylus: No More

The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November. 

Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.

Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly. 

Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants. 

Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!

Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.

You violated step 5 that Friday when you let him take you to dinner and you were reaping the consequences of your mistake. There was no way you could survive the free-fall if you couldn't get your heart to obey your mind. The disconnect between the two vital organs might be the thing that kills you.

When you heard something shatter in the hallway, you quickly put your phone down and went out to investigate.

The door opened to Mephisto standing on a side table where an empty vase used to sit. The vase was now on the floor in pieces in front of your feet. 

“You did this on purpose.” You pointed an accusing finger at the bird, but all he did was tilt his head to the side as if he couldn’t understand you. You knew he could understand you perfectly well.

The cold war between you two started in your first week at Onychinus when he would swoop at your head spontaneously for no reason. Sylus told you he did it to everyone he didn’t trust and that he’d be over it in due time, but you were too vindictive to let it slide. 

Several back-and-forth pranks later, the bird seemed to have remembered the tradition you managed to forget. “If this is your way of saying you miss me then you take an awful lot after your owner.” Your words faded as you made your way to the kitchen to find the broom. However, upon your return you saw that the floor was flawless and the door to your office was closed.

You rushed in with unparalleled speed to see your worst nightmare; Sylus leaning against your desk in his usual model-like fashion with your phone in his hand.

Panic coursed through you like never before as you remembered what had been left open on your phone when you set it down and the painful fact that you left it unlocked. 

Prayers for a sinkhole to open up and consume you in that very moment went unanswered as Sylus looked up at you with a smirk on his face.

“Is my laugh really deadly?” He looked amused. 

Come on sinkhole. Anytime now. 

When you didn’t answer, Sylus moved toward you. When he was close enough to touch you, he leaned down to make sure your eyes were on his.

“Your deadline is fast approaching, Y/N. Care for a progress report?” The taunting question made heat rush to your face.

“It was stupid, I wrote it months ago.”

“Then why did you have it open?” 

You couldn’t exactly tell him that his willingness to change his cold and cruel demeanour just to keep you as his accountant revived the feelings you thought were long dead. You definitely couldn’t tell him that the necklace that suddenly weighed down your chest made your heart skip a beat every time you touched it. And there was no way you were telling him that the dinner you shared was the happiest you’d felt in a long time.

“I was going to delete it when I heard Mephisto break something in the hallway.”

“Delete it? Guess you don’t need it anymore.”

“Nope.” You popped the P on the word for emphasis. “Can I have my phone back now?” He placed the device into your outstretched hand. 

“So how do you feel about me now, sweetheart?”

You tried your best to appear unperturbed by his taunting. “Mad at your blatant violation of my privacy.”

“Forgive me. I saw my name on your phone when I went to check in on you and I was curious.”

“Mephisto told you I broke the vase, didn’t he?”

“Don’t deflect. Do you still have feelings for me?”

“No, they’re gone. Can we please drop this? It’s embarrassing.” You lied in favour of self-preservation and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see through your act.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Y/N. Many women confess their love for me every month.” You rolled your eyes at his ardent display of over-confidence and narcissism, though you knew he wasn’t exaggerating.  

“Okay, brace yourself there bachelor. No one said anything about love.” It was true, you never said you loved him. Whether or not you did, well that was a secret you’d take to the grave. 

“So then which feeling are we discussing?” The loaded question came out of his mouth so casually, like someone ordering a latte. A display of power that reminded you of just how little this mattered to him. 

Your feet felt like they were grounded in their place by an invisible force and you were sure your cheeks were beet red. You knew your mouth was slightly agape in shock, but you couldn’t even close it. Meanwhile, Sylus was unfazed, treating your feelings like a game. 

“Since when do you even care about how I feel?” The sudden outburst was accompanied by your hand running through your hair out of frustration.

Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a moment he said nothing. There was no hint of amusement left on his features. 

“You think I don’t care about you?” He seemed irritated by the premise, but you couldn’t figure out why. You thought Sylus was proud of his clear disregard for other people’s emotions. 

“You treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of your boot for years. What reason did you give me to think otherwise?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that I pay you more than my highest ranking footmen. Or that I had Mephisto tail you when you used to bike to and from work to make sure you got home safe. Hell, I invented the lunch budget when I hired you just to make sure you were eating— I even banned mushrooms from my kitchen in case you wanted to eat here. Not to mention the bullshit extra work I’d assign you just so you would stay longer.” 

Choosing not to dwell on the implication of his silent acts of kindness, you interjected. “Hey, I took those tasks seriously!” The twins thought you were crazy when you asked if Sylus was making those assignments up. You knew you were right. 

“Don’t interrupt me.” Your mouth clamped shut at his rather reasonable request. Sylus wasn’t a big talker, so when he monologued, it was important. 

“Your kindness, your humour, it all caught me off guard. No one ever treated me like you did and I had no idea how to feel. The little doodles you sent back to me on the notes I left you delineating tasks? I kept every last one. When Mephisto complained to me about that time you put corn-starch in his water fountain and almost destroyed his wiring, all I could do was laugh. I treated you like I treated all my men because I didn’t want people to find out that you were my weakness.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but the pressure wasn’t budging. There was so much you didn’t know about Sylus, so much you completely misunderstood. This revelation caused a series of chain reactions to go off inside your brain and the weight of what he was trying to say felt suffocating.

You dreamed of a time where Sylus would reciprocate your feelings, but the reality of it was more daunting than you realised.

“All my threats are empty with you, Y/N. You’re the only one who gets away with the attitude you give me. You tell me you crashed a car worth over half-a-million dollars and all I could think about was if you were okay. I even offered to buy your house for way more than it was worth just to get you back. Do you seriously think I don’t care?” 

All sound came to a stifling halt. 

“Wait, you were the ‘developer’?”

The inklings of betrayal wove their way through your skin as the pieces began to fall into place. The timing of the eviction notice, the fact that he’d shown up at your house the day you received it, the way he was so quick to agree to the ridiculous bonus. 

He manipulated you like a puppet on a string and let you think you were in control the entire time.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some traitor.” His audacious demand made your blood boil.

“You are a traitor! How could you do that to me?” You yelled.

“You were going to leave me like I was nothing!” For the first time since you’d met him, Sylus raised his voice to match yours. Your entire body went cold at his vulnerability. He was afraid of being abandoned, and that was a fear you both shared.

“Not seeing you every day made my heart feel like it was being ripped out of my chest. I could barely focus, all I could think about was what you were doing, who you were with. So imagine my surprise when I come to find that while I’m being tortured every minute I’m away from you, you needed more time.

“I knew I was being selfish, I knew that your grief had nothing to do with me, but I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. That day in the graveyard when you wouldn’t even look at me, I thought I’d lost you for good. It ate at me like a parasite. I had to get you back and I won’t apologise for not playing fair. There isn’t a rule I wouldn’t break for you, Y/N.”  

It was hard to hate him for what he did when you understood where he was coming from. You were two sides of the same coin. While you overcompensated for the lack of love in your life by becoming the ultimate people-pleaser, he avoided it at every turn, saw it as a weakness. But at the core of every human being was an innate desire to be loved and an inherent fear of being abandoned. 

People couldn’t leave your life if you never let them in. That was a philosophy you saw both your mother and Sylus live by. It was lonely and difficult, and if you had the power of hindsight you would’ve tried harder to convince your mother she was worthy of love. You couldn’t make that same mistake again. 

You loved Sylus, that much was ingrained into the flesh of your heart. For all his rugged edges, he had a way of making things happen that was akin to magic. His determination, his grit, it was admirable.

His intelligence was infuriating, you couldn’t get anything past him. If he received the Greeks’ horse instead of the Trojans, you were sure he’d have seen right through their ruse. 

His desire to make the N109 Zone a better place stemmed from a sense of altruism you could only hope to possess. And when Sylus did things for others, he never expected anything in return. 

But for all his greatest traits he had some difficult ones too. He’d hurt you more times than you could count, and even if he’d changed drastically since your mother’s death, you couldn’t quite trust that he wouldn’t hurt you again.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You confessed. It was no secret you wore your heart on your sleeve, despite your mother’s constant reminders that the world was filled with terrible people who’d take advantage of your candour. You chose to see the good in others, it boded better than the grim lifestyle that came with perpetual pessimism. 

“Then why are you fighting this?” His question came out pained, and it was one you could answer. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Sylus. I loved you even though you insulted me, ignored me, reminded me I was replaceable every chance you got.

“I told myself it was just how you were, that it wasn’t personal. But when you walked out on me in the hospital when I needed you the most, I loved you a little less.”

Sylus felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest, like someone took a needle to his heart. He left that hospital because he wasn’t sure you’d even want him there, and it pained him to see you so distraught over a problem he couldn’t fix. When MC came to him with an important mission in Skyhaven, he saw an out, and like the coward he was he took it. If he knew that you’d lose your mother while he was away, he never would have left your side. 

“When you didn’t call until weeks later, when you showed up only to tell me I was being dramatic for grieving, I loved you even less. Every time you screwed me over you made it easier to live without you.”

It hurt to remember the pain you were in back then, the immense pressure of the burdens you carried. But if there was ever a chance of you and Sylus working out, he needed to know the truth. 

“I’ve only ever loved two people, Sylus, and in one month it felt like I’d lost them both. I still love you, I’m afraid I couldn’t stop if I tried, but I don’t know if I can be more than your accountant right now.” You couldn’t survive another heartbreak, that much was for sure. 

Even though Sylus looked like he was going to be sick, you continued. 

“I thought I was okay with you treating me like everybody else, thought I was strong enough to take it. But when I saw you with Miss Hunter and the softness with which you spoke to her, it broke me. I saw that you were capable of being gentle. You just didn’t think I was a worthy recipient of your kindness.”

He was quick to correct you. “That’s not true, sweetheart. Not at all. She has something I need, something I can’t take with force. It’s why I’ve had to adopt unusual methods. If I’d known it was causing you so much pain I would’ve explained. Fuck, Y/N, you deserve so much more than just my kindness, more than I could ever give you. I can’t even think of a person on Earth who deserves you at all.” 

When Sylus saw the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, he resisted the urge to wipe them away.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, anything but letting you go. There’s nothing so broken it can’t be fixed, Y/N. You taught me that. Let me fix this.” He tested the waters by taking your hand in his and when you let him, he pulled you into his arms. 

For a moment, the room was silent. You listened to his heartbeat through his chest and it might have been even faster than yours. It felt like deja vu, reminding you of that moment in the restaurant, or that time in his hallway after Zayne’s phone call. Sylus was there to comfort you more often than not, why were you so scared of letting him in?

“I want to believe you, I just don’t know that I can.” Your voice was small, timid. As if you were afraid something you’d say would shatter the sanctity of this moment and you’d find out it was all a dream. 

“I won’t stop trying until you do, sweetheart. You’re it for me, there’s no one else.” He kissed the top of your head with a softness you didn’t know he possessed and the words were like bandages wrapping around the wounds inflicted by your own envy.

In the comfortable silence, Sylus made a vow. “I don’t have regrets — you know that quite well — but I regret the way I treated you. I’ll spend every lifetime repenting for my mistakes, Y/N, and I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” He squeezed you tighter and the comfort his warmth brought you was a welcome change to the cold you lived in all the time. 

Desperate to diffuse the overwhelming angst of the situation, you pulled away from his embrace and clapped your hands together. “Okay then, as of today we commence ‘Operation Sylus: The Redemption'.”

His loud laugh resounded through your office, and it was a sound you’d never get tired of hearing. He grabbed your chin. “Have you always been this corny?” 

“I watch a lot of movies, okay? Now, shake on it.” You shook his hand off your face and held out your hand with an invitation that he instantly accepted. With his warm hand encasing yours, you whole-heartedly hoped this operation would be a success. 

Late December

You assumed the dynamic between you and Sylus would drastically change following your impromptu heart-to-heart. But the changes came in small waves. 

It started with the middle-aged man who silently drove you to and from work with a permanent scowl on his face being replaced by Sylus himself.

Then there was the sticky notes he’d usually place on documents explaining the task and deadline, now with an added addendum.

— That necklace was the best decision I’ve ever made.

— Your hair looks especially nice today.

— Did you switch perfumes? I like it.

— That new lipstick suits you. Your lips are all I can think about. 

You saved all of them in a drawer at your desk. 

He had someone bring you your lunch every day and spent your entire lunch break with you. Somedays you talked until your tongue felt like it was going to fall off, other days you just sat and ate together in silence. And every Friday afternoon, instead of taking you straight home, he’d take you to visit your mother’s grave with a new bouquet in his hands. 

You were glad he was taking things slow. His small gestures made your heart flutter without overwhelming you, but it had been a month since your confrontation, and he didn’t even try to touch you. 

While your inexperience with love, lust and romance never impacted any significant aspect of your life before, it was growing increasingly difficult to wait for Sylus to make the first move. He didn’t want to scare you, that much was understandable. But you were growing angsty waiting for him the tension between you two hit a boiling point.

The glorious plan came to you while you were shopping with Luke and Kieran for Onychinus’s annual Christmas gala. It was a networking event masked under the guise of a holiday celebration where the people hiding in the shadows of the underworld could spend one night communicating on the surface.

Every year, Sylus insisted he couldn’t outsource waiters for the event because of potential security leaks, so you, the twins and a couple other of his staff were forced to fill in as the help. Sylus told you that you wouldn’t have to participate this year, but you began to look forward to the event. It was like an unorthodox Christmas tradition.

Your eyes drifted to the costume section of the party store, and when they landed on a short red Santa’s helper dress, you felt a lightbulb turn on in your head. Maybe you had to give Sylus a little nudge.

“Hey, aren't you guys kind of bored of the slacks and the dress shirts he makes us wear?” You sowed the seed of doubt into your unwilling accomplices.

“Duh. I hate dressing like a butler.” Luke’s eyes continued to scan the aisle for decorations. The hall was professionally decorated, but you added your own little details every year. It made things less drab and it gave the twins an excuse to spend hours in the party supply store. 

“What if we went with Christmas themed costumes this year?” The twins turned to look at you with confusion, but they quickly warmed up to the idea when you pointed at the wall of seasonal costumes.

“I’m Rudolph!” They made their declarations in unison before breaking out into an argument in the middle of the party store.

“Just flip a coin!” You desperately suggested, taking a coin out of your wallet and placing it on your thumb, ready to flip. People were beginning to stare.

“I’m heads!” They said in unison, again.

“Kieran you’re heads, Luke you’re tails.” You assigned them the parts of the coin alphabetically and watched it flip through the air. When it landed in your hands, it displayed tails. You silently hoped they would move on from this unnecessary battle and restore peace to your shopping trip again.

“Sorry Kieran, Luke’s Rudolph.” Kieran complained for the rest of the day about how annoying being an elf was, and how, since he was an inch taller than Luke, it only made sense for Luke to be the elf instead. 

They argued like the siblings you never had, and for all the pain and suffering they caused you, there was no denying you loved having them around. Besides, working for Sylus left the three of you trauma-bonded for life. There wasn’t really an out from this unconventional friendship. 

_________________

You failed to remember to clear the costume idea with Sylus before the gala. He was just so busy trying to organise the event, and you were similarly swamped with ensuring all the invoices were sent out on time to the right vendors. You barely saw each other in the days leading up to the big event.

The dress was shorter on you than you anticipated. Coming up just above mid-thigh, it was nothing like anything you owned in your closet. The little hat it came with was cute though and you pinned it to your hair. The make-up you wore was the same as your everyday makeup, barring the eyeliner you’d spent way too long trying to perfect and your lipstick. 

Other than the dress, you really did look the same as you did most of the time. Would Sylus even notice?

Right on cue, a knock on your door snapped you out of your train of thought, and you took a deep breath before opening it. 

As you expected, Sylus looked unfazed by your choice in attire as you moved out of the doorway to let him in.

“I see we’ve foregone the uniforms this year.” His comment was a welcome distraction from your insecurities.

“Whimsy is part of the Christmas spirit, you know.”

“It’s cute. Did you get that dress from the children’s section?”

The question came so out of left-field it left you were stunned. Once the shock settled in, you suddenly felt self-conscious.

“No… Why? Does it look childish?” You couldn’t help the vulnerability in your voice. 

Sylus closed the distance between you in a few long strides, his hands were on you in an instant. His palm was holding onto your waist the other tracing alone the edge of your dress. 

“Quite the opposite, I’m just wondering why they’d make a dress so short for adult women.” 

“Adult women can dress however they want, Sylus.” You chided.

“I know, but I’ll have my hands full if I’m trying to host this event and take care of the hoards of men that will be chasing after my girl at the same time.” He whispered the words seductively into your ear, the hand on your thigh slipping ever-so-slightly under the dress.

You ignored the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed through you at the sound of Sylus calling you his girl.

“There won’t be ‘hoards of men’. This will be the third time I’m working your annual gala and I’ve only ever gotten hit on like four times.” You knew from the way his eyebrows furrowed that you shouldn’t have told him that.

“Four times? Men hit on you four times while I was in the room and you didn’t tell me?” He was clearly angry, his rage unwarranted since it happened right under his nose. 

“I didn’t think you’d care. Most of them were like fifty, anyway!” That was true, and every time one of them placed a hand on your shoulder or your forearm, it made you grimace. 

“If men approached you in long pants and a dress shirt with a plate of refreshments in your hand what do you think they’ll do when they see you in this get up?” He walked you back until you were standing against the wall.

He had a point. Maybe it was too suggestive.

“I can change—”

“No. You never have to do that with me, baby. Just stay where I can see you, alright?” 

“Okay.” You felt a blush paint your cheeks. The tension was bubbling up between you. His hand was searing into your waist, his other one moving dangerously high on your thigh. You really thought this would be the moment he kissed you. But then the warmth of his hands was abruptly gone. 

“Okay. You ready to go?” He held the door open for you. That was it? Frustrated at your lack of results, you silently walked out of your house.

__________________

“Did you see Sylus’s date?”

“Of course, she’s definitely the hottest girl here.”

“I bet she’s had work done.”

“If so, I need the name of her surgeon.”

You eavesdropped on the hushed whispers of a group of women who were gossiping in a corner near the kitchen. The second you walked through the doors of the extravagant event hall, you both went your separate ways and you hadn’t seen him since. So much for not letting you out of his sight. 

All you heard about the entire night was his mysterious date and her envious beauty. He never told you he was bringing one, nor did he ever ask you to fill the spot. But before you could completely spiral, you reminded yourself of Sylus’s promise. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. 

“Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing working here?” Your train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a man. You turned around, expecting to see one of the many sleazy old men who frequented these events and saw you as an easy target, but all you saw was a young, attractive guy in a three-piece suit. Huh.

“Hors d’oeuvre?” You offered the plate to him in place of a response. 

“No thanks. I’ve had my fill, though I must say, the other servers aren’t quite as easy on the eyes as you.” His eyes shamelessly scanned every inch of you, head-to-toe, and you felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

“Oh, um thanks.” The blush on your cheeks was an unwanted biological reaction, you weren’t used to attention from men within your age range. It wasn't like you thought you were ugly, you were just a bit of a hermit.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” You were about to answer his question when someone did it for you.

“Y/N.” The voice belonged to the man of the hour who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. 

“Sylus, hello. Hors d’oeuvre?” Clearly you were running out of things to say if your default reaction was to offer everyone a snack, but it was hard to find the voice to speak when you saw the girl who had her arms wrapped around his. 

Miss Hunter. You should’ve known. Your eyes passed over her beautiful dress and pinned up hair. She lived up to the rumours, she was definitely the prettiest girl in the room. Next to Sylus the pair reminded you of a renaissance painting. They made sense, and clearly not just aesthetically if he brought her as his date instead of you.

Sylus saw the way your eyes trailed off to MC standing next to him. He saw the self-doubt turn your eyes glassy, and all he wanted to do was whisk you away to a private room where he could show you just how badly he wanted you, and no one else.

But his enemies were in attendance tonight, it was part of the reason he didn’t want you there. Sylus’s only weakness used to be his mortality, and even that was debatable. But now his biggest weakness was tangible, and she wore an adorable Christmas themed dress that made every man in the room brim with desire. Miss Hunter may have been the focus of all the women in attendance, but all the men could talk about was the sexy server in the little red dress. It was driving him insane. 

But MC was a hunter and if he endangered her, she could get out of it unscathed without his help. Their enemies were the same, which made them perfect allies, but it also made their loved ones easy targets. Sylus would never forgive himself if he let someone hurt you. So despite the excruciating pain that coursed through him at your hurt expression, he did nothing to quell your concerns.

But he couldn’t idly stand by and let this man make a pass at you either. It was clear Henry was not aware of Sylus’s newly established no-fraternising-with-the-staff policy. 

“Henry, not distracting my staff, are you?” Sylus directed his attention to his business associate. Henry ran a security company which supplied a large portion of their weaponry from Onychinus. The contract they shared was a substantial source of revenue that Sylus couldn’t afford to compromise. 

“I’m just wondering where you found such delectable staff.” Sylus felt his jaw clench at the way Henry undressed you with his eyes and your consequential discomfort. Fuck the contract, he was going to make that man pay. But he couldn’t inflict his revenge quite yet, so he played nice. 

“Unfortunately my staff are exclusively mine. I’m sure you understand how difficult it is to find loyal help.” Well, at least he tried to play nice. The subtle jab at Henry’s recent whistleblower scandal was a low blow, but he wasn’t above kicking below the belt.

Annoyed and slightly confused by the exchange, you rolled your eyes at the testosterone-fuelled men bickering and cleared your throat.

“I think I’m needed in the kitchen. Nice meeting you, Henry.” You gave him the kindest smile you could muster and gave Sylus no smile at all. It was the least he deserved for blindsiding you with his date. 

“I should check on the catering, excuse me.” Sylus followed you to the kitchen and the second he caught up to you, he pulled you into a nearby storage closet.

There was barely any room for the both of you in there, so you were pressed up against his body. You tried to create some distance between you two, but he just pulled you back in by your waist.

“What are you doing? I’m supposed to be working and you’re supposed to be socialising. We can’t do those things from here.” You berated him quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t really need anyone from the staff discovering you in this compromising position. You’d had enough embarrassment in one night for a lifetime.

“Miss Hunter is just here with me on business.” Sylus’s statement did little to comfort the tumultuous storm in your mind. 

“I don’t care.” In a sense, it was true. It seemed your mind didn’t care whether Miss Hunter was there with him on business or not, it still hurt all the same. 

“Don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re upset.” Sylus tried to caress your cheek but you pushed his hand away. 

“Okay, fine. I’m upset. Now will you let me leave?” You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but to no avail. His hand squeezed your face as he forced you to face him. 

“If you’re upset, talk to me about it. Don’t antagonise me by flirting with other men. It won’t end well for them.” The fire in his eyes swore retribution and you did not want to be Henry right now.

“I wasn’t flirting!” You tried to defend yourself but you knew he’d see straight through your ruse. 

“That sweet smile of yours is reserved for me and me alone.” There was no way Sylus would’ve let that over-the-top smile slide and this was exactly how you expected him to react, but it only made you more upset.  

“Right, but I just have to make do with sharing you with Miss Hunter.” The irony of the situation was not lost on Sylus, but he had a laundry-list of crimes, hypocrisy was the least of them. 

“I’m all yours, baby. I promise it’s just business.” He sounded sincere, and you trusted him to tell you the truth. Sylus never lied unless it was out of omission, but when you asked him a direct question, he never failed to answer honestly. 

“I can help you with business.” You tried to reason, your palm resting against his pounding heart. 

“Not this kind, sweetheart. I’m just trying to protect you. I need you to trust me.” You trusted Sylus with your life, with your heart. Which was why you knew you wouldn’t like the answer to the question you asked next. 

“Did you sleep with her?” The mere thought of it tasted like acid on your tongue. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of Sylus’s past, but where the other women in his life came and left like the tide, Miss Hunter’s presence was persistent. 

You needed to know just how far they’d gone, even if it might destroy you. 

“Yes. It was one time when we first met in September. Before I realised how I felt for you.” The words pierced straight through you like bullets of radiation. Your palm slowly slipped off of his chest and you diverted your gaze to your heels. “Y/N, you know I only want you. It meant nothing to me.” 

Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that they’d slept together that hurt you so deeply. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, the way she got under his skin. Sylus may love you, but what if he wasn’t attracted to you?

The thought slipped out of you before you could mull it over. “How am I supposed to believe that when you were all over in seconds and you won’t even kiss me?!” 

A hint of recognition flashed through Sylus’s eyes as he realised the catalyst behind your frustration. For some odd reason that he could never figure out, you were insecure. Even though your charm bordered on lethal and your beauty was unparalleled, you still felt inadequate. It perplexed him how someone could look so divine and not be aware of it.

“I haven’t kissed you because I wanted to make sure you were ready, sweetheart. I was worried I’d scare you away, because I’m sure if I got a taste of you I wouldn’t know how to stop.” He sounded strained when he spoke, as if he was recalling his frustration at having to hold back. 

You watched him intently, his words dripped with a desire you both shared. With his body so close to yours, it was hard not to wish he’d just act on his primal instincts. 

“You’re entirely unaware of your affect on me. You have no idea how precarious the string holding me back from insanity has become. When I saw you in that dress, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold back. But then you'd look up at me with those angelic eyes and I realise I can’t risk losing you.” 

Before you could even think it through, your desire became overwhelming and your lips were on his in an instant.

It was nothing like you expected, nothing like the chaste, sweet kisses you saw in your movies. It was heated, messy, desperate. His lips ravaged yours like a man on death row devoured his last meal. You felt his desire with every movement and all the doubt you had dissipated instantly. His hands were all over you, one softly held on to your neck, while the other held on to your waist like you might disappear. 

His lips moved to your cheek, your jaw and eventually the sensitive skin on your collarbone. When he bit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, you let out a whine. You hoped he hadn't given you a hickey. His face came up to yours as he looked at your lips which were red from the impact and the desire running rampant in your eyes. It might’ve been the most beautiful you’d ever looked.

“Well? I’m still here.” You whispered against his lips before giving him a chaste peck.

Sylus knew you weren’t just talking about this moment. You never left, even when he gave you a million reasons why you should. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such luck, but he knew he’d never give you a reason to walk away from him ever again.

“We should get out of here.” Somehow you knew he didn’t just mean the storage closet. He shifted to lead you out but you quickly stopped him.

“You can’t leave your own party! What about your date?” As much as the idea of MC hanging off his arm made your skin crawl, it wasn’t right to just leave her alone. 

“She’ll be fine. The only woman I care about is right in front of me, and I want to do so much to her than kiss her in a storage closet.” There was an underlying promise in his tone, and you felt the slightest bit of fear that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

“You’ve lasted this long, what’s one more night?” Your last ditch effort to escape the dangerous situation was unsuccessful. 

“Sweetheart, I can't wait another second.” He gave you a soft, gentle kiss that conveyed his fraying restraint. Your fear felt inconsequential when he was with you, you knew you could trust him wholly with every part of you. 

So, when he led you out of the storage closet and all the way to his bedroom, you never once felt scared. Or insecure. Or inadequate. Sylus worshipped you like you were his salvation and he never once let you doubt yourself again.

Later that night, as you laid in his bed underneath his covers, staring over at his peaceful sleeping expression, you realised he was your salvation too.

Christmas Day

“What’s the surprise?” You asked the same question for the umpteenth time. 

“Just be patient, we’re almost there.” You let Sylus lead you through what you thought was a building while you obediently kept your eyes shut. Eventually your feet came to a halt, and you were bursting with anticipation. 

“Alright, open your eyes.” When you opened them you were in the living room of a charming beach house. It was so bright it took your eyes a while to adjust, but when they did you noticed that it was decorated with splashes of your favourite shade of yellow. The large balcony doors opened to the sight of a familiar beach, and you felt a range of emotions wash over you all at once. Sadness, nostalgia, yearning. 

“Merry Christmas, baby.” Sylus’s voice behind you snapped you back to reality. 

“What is this place?” The awe in your voice could not be concealed.

“It’s yours. I know how much you hate being on the beach, but I also know it meant a lot to your mother. From this balcony it’ll be like you’re right there without actually being there.” He sounded almost nervous while presenting his gift to you, worried you might hate it. But there wasn’t a word that could describe the pure gratitude and love you felt for the man standing in front of you. 

“You bought me a house on my mother’s favourite beach?” The disbelief in your voice was almost tangible. 

“Yeah.”

“Sylus, all I got you was a pocket watch!” You thought that since you were both not very big on Christmas, you would exchange small gifts. Clearly small wasn’t a word Sylus kept in his vocabulary. 

“You gave me so much more than that.” The suggestion in his voice did nothing to soothe your guilt. 

“This is too much.”

“Y/N, you’re more familiar with my assets than I am, if this made a significant dent in my bank account I think you would’ve noticed when I bought it a month ago.” 

“You’ve had this for a month?” The shock persisted, but he was right. His expenses ranged from a box of paperclips to the purchase of a two-hundred-million dollar industrial complex. 

“Yes, I bought it the first time you asked me to take you to the beach after work.”

“But what if we didn’t work out?” A month ago that seemed like a palpable possibility, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without Sylus in it.

“I’d find a way to trick you into taking it anyway.” 

You all but rolled your eyes at the memory of his less-than-graceful plan to acquire your house until you ended up working for him again. 

“Right, of course. You’re quite good at that I hear.” 

“I’m good at many things, I’ll remind you later.” He drawled against your ear, but before you could force him to act on his promise he spoke up again. “For now, there’s one more surprise.” 

You let Sylus lead you out to the balcony with his hands on your shoulders, driving you forward. He stood behind you, his chest to your back. He pointed to a hill on the left of the house where a beautiful willow tree sat atop the beach on a cliff.

“I bought that plot of land too. I don’t want to overstep, but if you’d like, we could move your mother here. Have her final resting place be at the place she loved the most.” His voice kept you anchored as memories of your mother threatened to pull you away. It still filled your chest with overwhelming sadness when you thought of her, but the thought that she could spend forever in the place that brought her the most joy filled you with relief. You didn’t get to give your mother much, but at least Sylus helped you give her this. 

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face if you tried.

Sylus had come a long way from that day at the graveyard, an even longer way from the day you met him. The fact that he grew to care about your mother as much as you did made your heart swell with love for him that expanded every day. Something you didn’t even think was possible.

“She would love that.” Sylus wrapped his hands around your waist, placing an ever-so-gentle kiss on your temple. “I wish you could’ve met her when she was alive, you would’ve loved her.” They were both the strongest people you knew, and it pained you that they never got to meet. 

“I’m sure I would have. After all, I am a huge fan of her work.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his cheesy joke. You were rubbing off on him, that was for sure. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face at the sound of your joyful laugh and you had to squeeze out of his grasp to make him stop. 

While you wished you didn’t have to lose someone so important to you to gain another, things always had a weird way of working out. Your future was still murky, but what you did know for sure was that ’Operation Sylus: No More’ could officially be declared a massive failure. And even though the physical hole in your heart still existed, the proverbial one shrunk to half it’s size; and you had the silver-haired man with the stone-encased heart of gold to thank for that. 

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Sorry if you were tagged but didn't get a notif, I think some of you might have your tags off because your blog wasn't coming up for me >:c

[voidangxls]

GRRRRRR I NEED A STILES FIC WHERE'S UR LIKE THE COACH'S KID OR SMTH AND HE FINDS OUT. IT'S NOT FUNNY I NEED STILES IN MY VEINS AAAA. Who said that guys...

ˋ°•*⁀➷ “You’re coach’s daughter!?” ♬⋆.˚

╰┈➤ requested!

pairings(s)- stiles stilinski x reader

Summary- You and Stiles have been talking recently but he finds out who your dad is.

category- fluff

warnings- american school system, coach, greenberg, slight shy!stiles, not proofread

word count: 2670

masterlist; teen wolf masterlist

a/n: I hope this fits what you wanted!!

---------------------------

You had switched to Beacon Hills High School during your sophomore year of high school. Your father is a coach and teacher for Beacon Hills so you went to a different school, you and your dad (mostly you) thinking it was for the best.

But you hated it, the reachers were annoying, the school was crazy strict and you just didn’t fit within the school so you asked your dad if you could transfer to Beacon Hills where be taught at. He was more than overjoyed to now have you attending his school, he signed the transfer papers fairly quickly.

You had only transferred at the beginning of the school year, showing up for the first day like any of the normal students.

Now it was the 3rd month of school and no one knew you were Coach Finstocks daughter except for the two of you, and the principal. Your parents split up when you were little, your dad getting full custody of you though you do see your mom here and there. When you were born you got your mothers last name, something to do with her culture or the way she was raised so that was another reason no one knew you were Bobby’s daughter, you guys didn’t have the same last name.

When you arrived at the school your attention was immediately taken by a certain boy. His name was Stiles Stilinski. As soon as you saw him you thought he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, everything about him was literally perfect in your eyes. So what did you do? You talked to him…but not until like a month and a half of school had already passed

On the first day of school when you walked into class is when you noticed him, you also noticed him staring. So you walked towards the empty seat behind him and sat down. That day when you had sat in that seat, he and his friend turned around slightly and you just gave them a smile.

Almost 2 months had passed since the first say of school and that was when the two of you first spoke. The both of you remembered that day distinctly.

You walked to your usual seat in first person and sat down, right behind Stiles like usual. When the teacher began class you took a breath. You had finally grown the balls to talk to him, since he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. Leaning forward slightly in your seat, your hand reaches forward and gently taps his shoulder twice, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment, not enough for someone else to notice, but enough for just the both if you to notice.

The boy quickly turned around, he knew it had to have been you since you sat behind him but when he turned around and actually got view of you actually trying to talk to him he lost his breath. His mouth dropped open slightly, his jaw slightly moving as if he was trying to talk but the poor boy just couldn’t get the words out.

In response to his awkwardness you let a smile overcome your face, trying your best to not laugh at his expression. “do you have a pencil I could borrow?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb the teachers lesson. Now, after a while of wanting to talk to him all you did was ask if you could barrow a pencil (which you had in your bag anyways), but it was better than nothing!

Stiles’s mouth snaps shut and he swallows, nodding quickly he turns around and grabs a perfectly sharpened pencil out of his bag. He turns back around rapidly and holds the pencil up between the two of you like it was a prize. The smile on your face grows wider all while he just stares at you with wide eyes, as if he’s in a trance. You reach forward and grab the pencil from his hand, purposely making your hand graze against his. The boys expression hadn’t changed, still looking at you as if you were a princess or something.

Stiles could have sworn his heart skipped a beat and no actually probably stopped when he turned around to see you looking at him with a gentle expression.

He had wanted to talk to you since the very first day of school when he saw you. Before that day he had never seen you, so clearly you were new to Beacon Hills, or at least new to the high school. He just never had the guts to actually speak to you, he was never good with girls. Especially very pretty ones like you. When he first turned towards you he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, you were up close and asking him a question and you looked like a princess. In that moment he would do anything you asked, when you asked for a pencil and finally snapped him out of his haze he was grateful. One of those reasons being because he thought he looked like an idiot staring at you like that, and second because he really liked your voice.

From that point forward the two of you spoke regularly. After a couple of days you guys ended up exchanging numbers and you talked 24/7. He still didn’t know that your dad was one of his teachers and his coach but you were going to tell him soon.

Last week Stiles was shockingly able to ask you on a date. You were shocked that he was able to stand in front of you and get the words out but you obviously said yes, happily. And when he got that answer he lit up like a kid at a candy store and did a celebratory movement. You had compromised a day in which you knew your dad wouldn’t be home, you didn’t want your dad to know just yet and you didn’t think Stiles would want to be heavily interrogated on your first date.

The date had went great, the two of you were just as amazing together as you were outside of romantic feelings. Although you guys just recently met, both of you could see a great relationship together and it was definitely something you both wanted to explore.

Just five days after your date with Stiles it was now a Wednesday and you were at school, the two of you were supposed to be having another date tonight. Right now it was your free period, usually you would go to the library to either read or catch up on work but the library was currently closed for the day seeing as the librarian had to leave early. It was too cold to go outside seeing as it was transitioning from fall into winter. So you decided you would go to your dads classroom seeing as his office is connected to the room and you knew he would let you chill in his office while he taught his class, what you didn’t know was that Stiles was in that current class.

You walk through the halls of the school, bag over one of your shoulders. Your phone in your hand with headphones connected to your phone and one of the buds in your ear.

When you make it to your dads classroom you bring your hand up and knock on the door. He opens the door and looks down at you with a confused expression “what are you doing here?” he asks, not rudely or in his usual tone of voice but in pure confusion and slight worry which shocks the other students, never having heard him using an abnormal tone of voice on a student.

Bobby steps aside and lets you walk in even further slightly. Upon seeing your frame Stiles perks up, a smile immediately casted onto his face and his curiosity spiked. “Free period and library’s closed. Can I chill in your office?” you ask your dad, slightly stepping further into the classroom, avoiding looking at any of the other students. “yeah go ahead” he looks down at you a nods. He moves back towards the front of his desk while you walk past.

As you were walking you felt eyes on you. You were about to turn around when your dad speaks up. “Greenberg! Stop looking at my daughter!” he says harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut slightly and turn towards your dad with raised eyebrows. Still feeling eyes on you, you turn your head slightly and see Stiles looking ahead at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. At further notice everyone in the classroom was looking between you and your dad in shock, well except for Greenberg, he had his head down after your dad’s comment.

“shes your daughter?” Stiles says loudly in shock, his finger pointing at you. His mouth was open in a jaw dropping way and his eyes were wide. You take a deep breath and walk into your dads office, ignoring the eyes of your fellow students and more importantly Stiles

It was now the end of the school day and you were getting longer stares from students, clearly word had gotten around. You truly didn’t care but now everyone would be questioning why neither of you said anything.

And let’s just say you were slightly avoiding Stiles, well not really…you only avoided him after that class. You were now at your locker, packing up your school bag so you could head home when a presence is suddenly next to you. “Coach is your dad!?” the voice exclaims, breaking slightly at the end. You let out a breath and grab your bag, then closing your locker.

Stiles’s face was revealed once you closed your locker. His face was filled with pure shock, he looked at you as if you had two heads. Your lips press together into a thin line and your grip on your backpack adjusts. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, I was going to I swear!” You try your best to reassure him.

His face confronts from shock and into confusion, looking at you with pulled eyebrows but his mouth still slightly open. “Wha- I just cant believe your Coaches daughter!” he exclaims loudly, everyone in the hall turns towards the two of you and in response to his loudness you raise a singular brow at him. He grimaces slightly “sorry” he whispers. “I just cant believe you, like you standing in front of me came from him, it makes no sense!” he exclaims, definitely more on the quieter side this time around.

You fight a smile on your face, Stiles always brought one to your face. When he sees you smiling a smile is immediately pushed onto his face as well. “Well I am” you respond quietly, looking up at him.

“And you know thats very scary but who cares?” Stiles shrugs, one of his hands coming up to grip onto his backpack strap. Your face lights up in response, you were scared he would want to see you anymore just because of who your dad is. You let out a small laugh at him saying your dad was scary but then you look up at him happily “so, our dates still on?” you ask, swaying your body lightly.

He pulls a face and looks at you as if you asked the dumbest question ever. “Are you serious? You’re the best girl ever of course I want to go on that date, you’re like amazing, your pretty, funny, kind, great clothes- Well uh um unless you dont want to go on the date which is totally-“ He rambles, moving his hands theatrically.

During his rambling you couldn’t help but smile. Sure the compliments weren’t out of this world creative or poetic but when you could tell they actually mean something from who they’re coming from means a lot. Before he could continue to ramble and stress about if you wanted to go on the date or not you bring your hand up and cover his mouth. “I want to go on the date, Stiles.” you assure him, nodding your head slightly with a smile

Stiles lets out a little nervous laugh and nods as you remove your hand from his face. He tucks one of his hands into his jean pocket and looks down at you bashfully “good, cause I was- am really excited about it” he tells you, bouncing on his feet lightly.

“me too” you respond, looking up at him with a matching smile.

It was now later in the day and you were ready for your date with Stiles. You were dressed in a cute turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans, Stiles said he was surprising you so you had no clue where the two of you were going.

Now, since the cat was out of the bag you didn’t see too much of a problem in the fact that your dad would indeed be home all night. So he would be here when Stiles picked you up and dropped you off, which was definitely nerve wracking knowing who your dad was and knowing how Stiles is, Oh! and the fact that your dad had no clue you were going on a date.

You were putting in your last earring when the doorbell rang, you quickly grab your jacket and throw it on, as well as grabbing your purse as you walk out of your bedroom. As you were walking down the steps you hear your fathers naturally loud voice ring out so you stop, not being seen by either of them. “What are you doing here Stilinski? and with flowers?”

“uh um your-“ before Stiles could even finish his sentence where he was going to tell Bobby the flowers were for you he jumps in.

“for me?” He asks dryly, knowing they weren’t for him yet at the same time not knowing they were for his daughter that was currently eavesdropping.

“Yeah! actually! As a thank you for being the best coach” Stiles stammers, pushing them forward and into your dad’s hands. From on top of the steps behind the wall you let out a giggle and finally decide to put Stiles out of him misery.

Your dad looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand then back up at an awkwardly smiling Stiles in pure confusion. Not a single thought in your dad’s brain or a feature in his face didn’t hold confusion.

You walk forward, now stepping in between the two boys. “Dad. Stiles and I are going on a date” you tell him confidently. To be sure to win your father over him you show him one of your award winning smiles that always had an effect on your dad.

“Stilinski? You’re going on a date with Stilinski? Actually no, my daughter’s going on a date?” Bobby exclaims, pointing his finger at each of you accordingly.

“yup” you say happily, popping the p

“oh god” Stiles whispers, silently praying for his safety

“since when do you go on dates?” Your dad asks uncomfortably yet in his usual stern voice. He didn’t like seeing his little girl grow up.

“since now, dad” you respond, quickly pulling him into a hug and pecking his cheek. “Make sure to put those in water!” you say hurriedly while grabbing Stiles’s hand and speed walking to his car

“Have her home by ten!” Your father exclaims, his hand holding the flowers raising and shaking sternly with his words.

“Yes Coach! Oh uh Sir!” Stiles exclaims back to him, clumsily almost tripping over his feet but your hold was there to balance him. He opens the door for you and lend you a hand to get inside before running around to the drivers side of his precious Rosco.

“At least it wasnt GreenBerg” Bobby mutters, running a hand over his face and through his hair as he closes the front door.

[evie-sturns]

dinner - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend chris have just had your one year anniversary, to celebrate chris's family invites you and your parents round for dinner! but when chris gets worked up by your touch he has to take you to the bathroom...

contains: smut, bathroom!sex, semi-public, fluff, teasing, stomach bulge.

--------------------------°°••....••°°--------------———

in honor of chris and i's one year anniversary, his family is deciding to throw a huge dinner party. i'm not too sure if his extended family will be there but my parents and siblings are coming.

"chris?" i call out, spraying my face several times with setting spray after finally finishing my lengthy getting-ready process. i hear his excited footsteps sprinting up the stairs before the bedroom door swings open.

"you look so pretty," chris smiles, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around me.

"oh- chris! careful, i don't want to get makeup on your shirt!" i laugh while chris smooshes my face onto his white shirt from his deadly tight hug.

"right so were gonna go pick up matt and nick- i think everyone else is meeting at mary lou's." i say, pulling away from the hug and grabbing chris's hand.

chris nods before dragging me downstairs, my high heels click against the wooden floors as i adjust the straps of my white sundress.

i turn my phone on do not disturb while unlocking the front door, "how long are we going to be there?" chris asks, stepping out into the afternoon sun.

"only a couple hours, you might get a little bored." i tell chris before jumping into the drivers seat of our car.

"no- i'll be fine," chris defends himself with a sigh.

i look over at him "you okay?" i ask, rubbing his shoulder as i drive down the driveway.

"just.. really fucking nervous" chris laughs.

"chris no. you know my family loves you so much, all your brothers will be there its a happy thing!" i try to lift his enthusiasm with a confident tone.

-

i pull into the driveway of chris's parents house, ever since we picked up matt and nick, chris has cheered up. hes been laughing dramatically while making stupid jokes.

"you guys ready?" i ask with a grin, switching off the car.

"yes ma'am." nick jokes, swinging open the car door and jumping out, matt follows close behind. chris get's out of the car and instantly starts walking up to the front door, i run up behind him.

the front door opens slowly, mary lou's face peeks out and instantly lights up "hello!!" she sings, wrapping her arms around me.

"your children are here too" matt scoffs, she wraps her other arm around matt nick and chris, squeezing us all together. the sweet smell of her floral perfume flooding my nostrils.

"come in! come in." she hurrys us inside, the kitchen has my older brother and younger sister in it, roaming through the pantry. the dining room has tens of adults around all chatting happily around the table.

"look whos here!" jimmy calls out from the dining table, everyones heads snap up to me and chris. dramatic hollers come from the people round the table, chris and i burst into laughter.

“come! come sit” my mother smiles widely, tapping the two seats left for chris and i. i look over at chris and flash him a quick smile before sitting down

chris sits down right next to me, our shoulders brushing briefly.

"its been so long! hows molly?" i ask, molly is my dog. shes getting old but shes my childhood dog.

"oh shes doing great, you know still limping but we took her to the vet a couple weeks ago." my mom replies with a small sigh,

"anyways- and chris! i've missed you darling congratulations on 1 year! hows that youtube going?" she continues, looking up at chris with a wide grin.

"thank you! it's going great thank you, my career now- yeah!" chris speaks, his hands resting comfortably on his lap.

"ahh- youtube i remember when you were just starting a couple years ago!" my dad laughs, before chris and i dated we were friends since high school. my dad always loved chris, he says that chris is a 'sweet boy'.

all heads on the table turn towards mary lou and my cousin james, bringing over several dishes to the table.

"this looks awesome thank you." matt smiles up at mary lou.

i look over at chris, who is now shifting in his seat. he locks eyes with me and instantly breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.

i serve up some food on my plate,

suddenly i feel chris's hand on my thigh as he talks to one of my cousins, his long fingers trace small circles on my inner thigh under the table.

i stab my fork into the cabbage on my plate, glaring over at chris as he happily chats with various members of my family while his fingers slowly shift up my thigh.

he drags his fingers just under the hem of my dress, i can feel myself growing more sexually frustrated, my panties dampening by the second. his pinky lightly grazes my panties.

"chris." i whisper, he turns to me with an innocent face and a small head tilt.

as soon as he wraps up the conversation with my cousin he leans over, his lips just below my ear before he whispers subtly

"you're gonna excuse yourself to the bathroom and i'm going to meet you there in a minute okay?"

i nod, squeezing my thighs together.

"i'm just going to pop to the bathroom" i smile warmly at my parents like my boyfriend wasn't just teasing me under the table.

i scoot my chair back and stand up, swiftly walking upstairs and taking the first door into the large bathroom.

the walls in chris's parents house are paper thin, last time i was hear i could hear conversations from each bedroom clearly, so now i hear chris making up a lame excuse to meet me up here.

"hey- i don't know if y/n's feeling very well she was nauseous on the way here" he lies through his teeth "i'm going to go check up on her." chris says, i hear his chair shift before footsteps running up here.

he swings open the door with a stupid smile. "yes?" i say with a roll of my eyes.

he walks over to me, grabbing my ass and lifting me up onto the marble countertop. my back presses against the mirror as chris steps between my legs.

I spread my legs apart, causing my dress to ride up my thighs revealing a portion of my panties.

"fucking soaked." chris scoffs, my face flushes as he tugs down my panties to my ankles before putting them in his pocket. he fidgets with the belt of his jeans, letting it drop down followed by his jean.

"if you. make a sound. i will stop completely." chris speaks sternly, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

"good girl." chris says, rubbing my cheek before lining himself up with me.

he pushes his tip inside of me, observing my face. he slowly gives me more, i shake my head as i press my lips together.

chris is big, its a known fact and it's almost impossible to stay silent when he pounds into me.

"you can take it, i know you can" chris mutters, bottoming out. i arch my back, breathing heavily.

he starts to thrust into me, his hands gripping the plush of my hips. the thrusts grow faster and harder, we both know we don't have all the time in the world so hes desperate to make me cum, and to cum himself.

the angle we're in allows him to repeatedly hit my g-spot.

"fuck!" i moan out, before i can even finish the word chris's hand is plastered over my mouth.

he presses two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

i whine against his fingers, squeezing my eyes shut as i shift all over the countertop. shortly after my legs start to shake, i feel myself growing so close to my orgasm.

his hand that was on my hip moves to my lower stomach, pressing lightly. i look down, theres a clear stomach bulge.

"you feel me right there sweetheart?" chris breathes, i throw my head back with a frantic nod. he continues to press on my stomach.

i wrap my legs around his back before clenching harshly around him. i squeeze my eyes shut as i fight back all noises that are begging to leave my mouth.

my orgasm crashes over me, chris chuckles lightly before pulling out. he releases into his hand as he throws his head back.

we stay still for a couple seconds, i look down at his hand that he just released in

"gross!" i tease,

"hey it was this or on your dress so i took the practical option." chris replies, i stick up a finger and repeat what he said in a nerdy tone.

i flop down off the countertop, tugging down my dress and reaching into his pocket, digging around for my panties.

i pull them out of his pocket and slide them up my legs, chris washes his hands and redresses himself.

"that was.. hot." i breathe out, unlocking the door to the bathroom.

chris follows close behind me down the stairs, all heads turn to us.

shit. were we too loud?

"oh no! y/n were you sick?" mary lou says with a small pout. i hesitate for a second

"your hair is all messed up and you're absolutely flushed! your red!" my mother adds on,

i look over at chris who has his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"yeah- i'm sorry guys i threw up in there" i lie with a fake sigh

truthfully, i wasn't sick. i just couldn't tell my whole family that my boyfriend was just balls deep inside of me right upstairs.

----------------

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[zweetpea]

Yandere Batfam X reader p2

Feat. the batfam! (Jason, Dick, and Barbara)

Part 2 of this!

Will be making a part three with Echo's birthday!

Tags: @sirentheblogger @xiqn04 @wpdarlingpan @midnightgrimoire @fantasyhopperhea @torye @sammydaboii @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @tatsuri-zomushiki @degenerates-posts @lostsomewhereinthegarden @ladylupuscrow @sheep-from-rad @pi1nkl0ver @roseytheteacup @justannie18

if you weren't tagged for some reason pls comment and i'll figure out how to fix it

You had been dropping Echo off for about half a year now. 

For some reason every time you had dropped echo off Damian was the one who answered the door, despite the fact that he hated you. He even once told you that he’d rather have a wanted thief as a step mother than you.

Regardless, today he wasn’t the one to open the door. It was a tall man who had jet black hair in a hairstyle reminiscent of MatPat. He was rather muscular and had big blue eyes. He just stared at you with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. His outfit was kind of basic: just a white tee shirt, a blue racer jacket, and some navy blue jeans.

“Um… hello?” You pulled Echo closer to you while the tall new man stared at you awkwardly.

“Hi… Hi! Uh, hi! I’m Richard but my siblings call me Dick.” He smiled nervously and held out his hand to shake.

You ignored his hand. “Well, siblings can be cruel.” 

Dick suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Heh, yeah.”

“So where’s the terror tot?” You said monotonously. 

“You mean Damian? Him and Bruce left for a gala in Switzerland last night.” He smiled shyly at you.

You facepalmed and sighed. “Why didn’t he tell me?” You pouted, very annoyed at your baby daddy.

Dick sensed your anger and tried to distract you. “Well Bruce asked me and Jason to look after our sister!”

You stepped back slightly. “Sister?” You tilted your head cautiously. 

“Hold on! We're doing what?!” Another man popped in from the doorway. He was slightly taller than Dick and had dark black hair with a long strip of white and blue eyes. He was wearing a worn-down bomber jacket, a black t-shirt and black ripped jeans.

Dick glared at him. “We’re helping take care of our little sister, JASON!”

He looked at you and propped one arm above his head against the door frame. He smirked at you and chuckled. “Oh so you’re the lovely lady Bruce can’t shut up about. Though I can’t exactly blame him. If you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you go.” He looked you up and down with hooded eyes.

You and Dick gave him disturbed looks. Dick was the first to speak up. “Jason, stop being disgusting!” Dick smacked him on the back of the head.

“Can you blame me? She’s a beautiful woman! And she’s far too young for Bruce.” Jason looked at his older brother bored and slightly irritated. 

“I’m standing right here you know!” You growled, very vexed.

Jason smirked again. “I know. How about you come inside and keep me company.” 

She handed Echo over to Dick. “I’m late enough as it is. If I keep this up I’ll have my pay docked.” She turned to walk off.

“I have a trust fund! You could be my sugar baby!” Jason called from the doorway. 

“You are so disgusting.” Dick glared at Jason. 

Jason scoffs. “She’s hot. Plus I’m not wrong! She’s way too young for Bruce.” 

Dick brought Echo in and set her on the couch. She had gotten used to the place thanks to Damian so she didn’t cry without her mom. She did try to crawl away when Dick started to scold Jason. She almost fell off the couch when a certain redhead caught her.

“You both are idiots.” Barbara held Echo under the little baby’s arms.

“BABS!” Dick came over and gave her a side hug before taking Echo. “When did you get it?” 

She smiled. “Alfred let me in through the service door.” She had her hair tied back like usual and a green turtle neck sweater. She flopped herself on the end of the couch near where Jason was standing and smirked at him. “You boys would be lost without me.”

Jason glared at her. “Oh shut up!”

“Jason, be nice. We could really use the help Babs.” Dick sat next to her.

“I know.” She giggled. “So this is Bruce’s latest pet project?”

Jason sat perpendicular from them in the recliner. “You shoulda met her Ma, Barbie. She was a smokeshow. Way too hot for Bruce. In fact, I believe it’s my duty to take her for myself to make sure Bruce doesn’t get canceled for this inappropriate relationship.”

“JASON STOP!! You’re being inappropriate!” Dick scolded.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up! I saw the way you were looking at her! You act all high and mighty but you actually want to do exactly what I’m saying!”

Dick blushed and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jason and Barbara could tell he was lying from the way he furrowed his brow. “She’s Bruce’s. He already called dibs and I’m not going to go behind his back. And you know what? I’m going to make sure you don’t either, JASON!!”

“Fine! Fine. Let’s just take care of the kid.” Jason grumbled and leaned his head against his fist, resting against the armrest of the recliner.

Barbara looked at him. “She’s not just a kid. She’s your sister.”

“Whatever!” Jason threw his hands up.

A little later Echo started crying so the three of them took her into the Kitchen.

“So what do babies eat?” Dick asked.

Jason shrugged. “I have some burritos from last night.”

Dick looked away thinking for a moment. “Well Echo can’t have solid food so you’ll have to put it in the blender.”

Jason shrugged. “If you say so.” He picks up Echo.

“THE BURRITOS NOT THE BABY YOU IDIOT!” Dick screamed. 

Barbara ripped Echo out of his hands. “Idiots, both of you. She left instructions for how to help Echo feed.” Barbara gave Echo her bottle and she started to suck. The littlest Wayne drank every last drop and Barbara burped her.

Dick smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Wow! You’re amazing with her! You’re a natural!” 

“Thank you, Dick.” Barbara leaves to put Echo into her nursery. 

A few hours later you come to pick up Echo.

“Uh, Hello.” You grabbed your baby from Barbara. “It’s nice to see that she was in actually capable hands.”

Jason gasped. “Dick and I are plenty capable!”

You deadpanned at him. “Maybe so but Barbara was the first person in history to be awarded the Wayne Institute of Technology’s Scientific accolade while she was still in high school. I was very impressed with your work, Miss Gordon. Keep it up and someday you’ll be running Wayne enterprises for sure!” She shook Barbara’s hand and walked off with Echo.

Jason smirked and nudged Dick as Barbara was left their star struck. “I’ll share her with you.”

Dick looked down at his younger brother. “Deal.”

[venny-the-chubbyblack-writer]

Title: “Gentle Touches”

Summery: your pregnant with you and sanemi’s first child and the baby won’t stop kicking and your just trying to get some sleep

———

The moon hung high in the sky, bathing the house in a soft silver glow as Sanemi Shinazugawa returned home after a long, grueling patrol. He could feel the tension still clinging to his muscles, a mix of fatigue and adrenaline that made every step heavy, yet he moved quietly through the house, not wanting to disturb (Y/N) if she was already asleep.

As he approached the bedroom, though, he heard a faint, soft sound—almost like muffled crying. His heart gave a sharp twist, and he pushed open the door to find (Y/N) sitting up in bed, tears streaking her cheeks as she cradled her swollen belly. She looked so tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and the exhaustion was so deep it seemed to reach her soul.

“(Y/N)?” Sanemi asked, voice barely above a whisper as he stepped into the room, worry etched into every line of his face. “What’s wrong?”

She tried to smile for him, brushing her fingers quickly over her damp cheeks, but the effort only made her look more weary. “The baby won’t stop kicking, Sanemi,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “I’ve tried lying on my side, sitting up, walking around, but… nothing’s working. Every time I close my eyes, it feels like—like a little warrior training inside me.”

Sanemi moved closer, his usual fierce, battle-hardened demeanor softening as he took in her distress. He knew she was strong—stronger than most, to endure what she had—but this… Seeing her like this pulled at something deep inside him. All he wanted was to help ease her suffering, even if he felt clumsy and unsure how to do it.

Without a word, he climbed onto the bed beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. She leaned into him, sighing as she let his warmth settle around her like a blanket. He could feel the tiny kicks beneath her hand where it rested on her belly, insistent and powerful for such a small being.

“Here, let me try something,” he murmured, shifting so he was lying beside her. He reached down and placed a large, calloused hand over her belly, where their little one’s movements were the strongest. His thumb gently rubbed in small, soothing circles, and he leaned down close to her belly, hoping his presence would somehow reach their child.

“Hey, little one,” he said, voice soft and low, the roughness usually there giving way to a gentleness only (Y/N) ever got to hear. He felt a little awkward, almost shy, but seeing the hopeful look on her face pushed him forward. “I know you’re excited to be here, but you’ve got to let your mom rest. She’s been carrying you around all day, and she’s tired. So… maybe take it easy for a while, alright?”

He looked up at (Y/N), noticing how her lips turned up in a faint, grateful smile. She placed her hand over his, fingers tracing the scars and lines she knew by heart, and his heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness, not just for her but for the life growing inside her.

“Come on now, little warrior,” he continued, rubbing his hand gently over the spot where he felt the strongest kick. “You’ll be here soon enough, and when you are, I’ll teach you everything. But for now, let your mom get some sleep. We both know she deserves it.”

To his surprise, the baby’s kicks seemed to slow, the movements softer, less insistent. He shared a look with (Y/N), and she gave a shaky laugh, her hand tightening over his as she took in a deep, relieved breath.

“Sanemi… it’s working,” she whispered, almost afraid to believe it. She shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as the baby’s movements grew calmer, and he let out a sigh of relief, still stroking her belly as he murmured soothing words.

“I’ve got you both,” he promised, his voice barely a murmur. “I’m here now. Get some sleep.”

(Y/N) finally let her eyes drift closed, her breathing slowing as she surrendered to the much-needed rest she’d been longing for. Sanemi stayed by her side, his hand never leaving her belly as he felt their child settle into stillness, as if listening to the quiet rhythm of their parents’ heartbeats.

Hours passed, and Sanemi lay awake, watching over them both as they slept, feeling a fierce sense of pride and tenderness. For once, his world was calm, filled not with battles or bloodshed but with the steady, gentle breathing of his little family.

———

I had so much fun making this I’m ngl I hope you enjoy it too 😊😉

[bbybhr]

♡°•|Gears and grace|•°♡

Mechanic!sevika x pastor's daughter! reader

The arrival of the new neighbor wasn't subtle to say the least. The rumble of a heavy moving truck disturbed the usual quiet of the street, followed by the sharp clang of metal ramps hitting asphalt and the gruff shouts of movers. You were standing on the porch, two houses down, watching with quiet curiosity. Your mother, watering the flowers, tutted softly. "Bit of a commotion, wouldn't you say?" You hummed.

Then she emerged from the cab of the truck. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair pulled back severely. Even from this distance, the glint of metal replacing her left arm was unmistakable, catching the morning sun. A thick cigarillo was clamped between her lips, smoke curling lazily upwards as she gestured emphatically at the movers, her voice a low, authoritative rumble that carried easily down the street. Dark ink snaked visibly up her exposed right arm, disappearing under the sleeve of her tank top. She hefted a heavy box herself, biceps straining, moving with a brusque efficiency.

Your mother clicked her tongue again. "Well, everyone needs a place to live, I suppose. Bless her." There was a tightness in her voice, a familiar blend of piety and judgment that made you frown a little.

Later that afternoon, after the worst of the noise had subsided, your mother placed a foil-covered dish on the kitchen table. Perfectly baked blueberry muffins, still warm. "dear, be a good neighbor and take these over to... to the new arrival. A welcome gesture." Her eyes held a warning. Be polite. Be proper. Don't stare.

Clutching the warm dish, you walked the short distance, quietly. The house looked much the same, but the open garage was a stark contrast to the manicured lawns surrounding it. Tools lay scattered across a workbench, engine parts were piled in organized chaos,some boxes were still sealed on the ground and the air smelled faintly of oil and metal.

And there she was, wiping grease from her mechanical hand with a rag. Up close, she was even more imposing. The tattoos were intricate, dark patterns against her tanned skin. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flickered over you as you approached the edge of the driveway. You felt suddenly very small, very... plain.

"Um, hello," you managed, holding out the dish as if shielding yourself infront of her gaze that seemed to capture everything. "My mother... we live down the street. She baked these. As a welcome." Your voice sounded breathy, unsure. You never had problem talking with strangers, you loved it in fact!but somehow your new neighbors had an...effect!

She paused, her gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary, taking in your attire. It wasn't unkind, exactly, but it was intense, appraising. She took the dish, her organic fingers brushing yours briefly. A strange jolt went through you at the contact that she didn't miss...she was seasoned woman she knew she had this kind of...effect, but you didn't seem to be one of those girls who would get effected, Not by her,not with the modesty that clinged to your style and every move even in your nervous state! well, don't judge a book by it's cover.

"Right. Thanks," she muttered, her voice rough, smoke-tinged. She didn't smile, didn't offer small talk. She just nodded curtly, turning back to the boxes, the muffins seemingly forgotten on the workbench.

You retreated, feeling oddly breathless, your cheeks warm which made your brows frown in confusion. She was unlike anyone you'd ever met. Rough, intimidating, undeniably powerful in a way that was both frightening and utterly captivating. Maybe that was the subject of your...nervousness.

That first encounter set a pattern. Drawn by an invisible pull you didn't understand, you found your way to her garage at least once a day. A pitcher of lemonade on a sweltering afternoon ("Mom made too much"). A plate of cookies ("Church bake sale leftovers"). the chain on your old bicycle conveniently slipped just as you were riding past her house. (You certainly didn't have a part in it). Soon enough because of your bike brave sacrifices you learned way more than just her name...

Your bike was a good excuse everytime that you didn't brought something over. Sevika would look up from welding something, visor flipped up, eyes narrowed behind protective goggles. You would explain the problem, feeling foolish but determined. Without much comment, she'd gestur for the bike, fixing it in minutes with deft, efficient movements of both her hands. You’d thank her profusely. She’d just grunt.

Through all these visits, You sat quietly on an overturned crate just inside the garage beside the work bench, observing her work. The focused intensity, the sure way she handled tools, the mesmerizing blend of human flesh and complex machinery in her arm. You noticed the details ... the way her muscles flexed, the calluses on her human hand, the occasional frustrated sigh when a part wouldn't cooperate. You learned to read the subtle shifts in her expression, even though she rarely spoke directly to you.

Sevika, for her part, noticed you too.picking up a fact or two about your family, your demeanor, and your preferences whenever your quiet voice filled the garage. She registered your quiet presence, the way you never seemed to fidget, your hands always neatly folded in your lap, a calmness that was unlikely in her world. She noted the modest, proper clothes,your shiny Mary Jane that never seemed to get dirty, your way of doing your hair that looked effortlessly neat, again, so different from anything in her own world. And beside this things she absolutely noticed the unwavering admiration in your eyes. It was plain, undisguised, and it stroked a part of her pride she hadn't realized was listening. The pastor's daughter, all innocence and propriety, looking at her like that.

When she found herself thinking about that quiet admiration that seemed to drop from your eyes whenever they layed on her,thinking about what might be in your mind, she wanted to laugh.It was absurd. Hilarious, even. Her and the preacher's kid? Two worlds separated by an unbridgeable chasm. Oil and holy water. Grit and grace. Impossible. Impossible?

And perhaps that was the crux of it. Sevika didn't do impossible. The very notion grated against her core. If something, or someone, seemed unattainable, it wasn’t a barrier! Oh no! it was a challenge. A puzzle to be solved, a situation to be controlled, dominated. The quiet admiration was flattering, yes, but the impossibility… that was intriguing. That sparked something deliberate within her. She would prove herself wrong. Or rather, prove the situation wrong.

One Saturday afternoon, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and summer heat, you were watching her wrestle with the stubborn engine of an old sedan. You sat in your usual spot, lost in the rhythm of her work.

Suddenly, her voice cut through the clatter of tools. Calling you.

You blinked, startled. She rarely addressed you so directly. She’d slid out from under the car, wiping grease on her jeans. Her mechanical hand rested on her hip.

"Yeah?" you squeaked.

"You just gonna sit there gawking all day?" Her tone was gruff, but lacked its usual edge. "Might as well learn something useful. Hand me that 10-mil wrench. No, the socket wrench."

Hesitantly, you stood up, your legs feeling stiff. As you stand up turning towards the workbench, she described the tool. You found the it on the cluttered workbench and walked cautiously towards her. Both of your figure now hidden behind the car from the street. The space felt charged, smaller than usual.

"Here," you offered it.

Instead of just taking it, Sevika reached out, her human hand closing over yours as you held the tool. Her skin was rough, calloused, grease ingrained in the lines, yet surprisingly warm. her thumb brushing against your knuckles as she talked. "Now, look here."

She guided your hand towards the engine block, pointing out a specific bolt. You were acutely aware of her closeness, the scent of metal and something uniquely her... smoke, maybe leather? Your breath hitched. Your mind, usually so ordered, felt scattered, unable to reconcile the strict teachings of your upbringing with the thrilling, terrifying proximity of this woman. Guilt pricked at you for reading too much into it, a familiar sting, but it was drowned out by a confusing wave of… excitement? Fascination?

Sevika demonstrated how to fit the wrench, her instructions low and steady, but her eyes weren't entirely on the engine. They flickered to your face, noting the flush on your cheeks, the slight tremble in your hand beneath hers, the wide, confused gaze you directed at her. The control she felt in that moment was intoxicating.

"You gotta... apply steady pressure," she murmured, her mechanical fingers brushing against your arm as she adjusted your stance slightly. The contact, metal against the soft fabric of your sleeve, sent a shiver down your spine. Time seemed to slow. The sounds of the neighborhood faded, replaced by the hammering of your own heart.

You looked up, needing to understand the shift, the sudden intensity crackling in the air. Your eyes met hers. Sevika's gaze was dark, unreadable, yet held a spark of something possessive, challenging. The air thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. Confusion warred with a strange, burgeoning awareness within you.

In that stretched moment, with your hand still held loosely in hers over the cold metal of the wrench, Sevika leaned down. There was no hesitation, no warning. Just a deliberate, decisive movement. Her lips met yours.

It wasn't gentle or tentative. It was firm, demanding, tasting faintly of smoke and something else entirely foreign that made your knees weak and your grip loose over the tool. The kiss was a claim, a spark igniting in the forbidden space between your two worlds, and your mind went utterly blank, consumed by the shocking, impossible reality of Sevika kissing you. Her lips moved ever the slightest on yours, it wasn't like her to kiss like that! But she knew it wasn't like you to have any experience in that filled...she was taking it slow, for your sake.

The kiss broke as deliberately as it had begun. Sevika pulled back, not far, just enough to observe you. For you, the world felt tilted off its axis. Your lips tingled, hypersensitive, the taste of her cigarillo that she smoked hour ago now was on your lips. Your lungs burned from lack of air you hadn't realized you weren't taking, and heat bloomed across your face, a tell-tale blush you desperately wished you could control. It had been… overwhelming. A clumsy, shocking collision on your part, met with a practiced, undeniable expertise on hers. You hadn't known how to respond, simply frozen under the sudden, firm pressure of her mouth.

Sevika, in stark contrast, looked entirely steady. Her breathing was even, her stance relaxed, mechanical hand leaving your arm and now resting once more on her hip. One dark eyebrow arched slightly, and a ghost of amusement flickered in her assessing eyes as she took in your disheveled state looking down on you face with the wide, stunned eyes, the slightly parted lips, the ragged catch in your breath. She saw the shock of a first kiss etched plainly across your features. Hooked, a low, satisfied voice murmured in the back of her mind.

"Well, " she murmured, her voice a low rumble that vibrated through the charged air between you. "Someone looks like they just got kissed for the very first time." She said feigning shocked.

Her words were a teasing prod, hitting the nail squarely on the head. Heat flared brighter on your cheeks. It was your first kiss, a monumental, terrifying, exhilarating first. But admitting that? Showing her just how profoundly she'd rocked your carefully ordered world? No. Some instinct, buried deep beneath the panic and the strange, fluttering excitement, urged you to mirror her coolness, to pretend this wasn't the earth-shattering event it felt like. You swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure, acutely aware that only the bulk of the sedan shielded this moment from any curious neighborhood eyes. If she wasn't standing right there, pinning you with that knowing gaze, you might have actually screamed, or maybe jumped up and down from the sheer, terrifying novelty of it all.

"Don't know what you're talking about," you managed, the words sounding thin even to your own ears. You avoided her gaze, focusing instead on a grease stain on the concrete floor.

Sevika merely smirked, a slow, confident expression that said she knew exactly what she was talking about, and knew that you knew it too. She didn't push it further then, just turned back to the engine with a grunt, leaving you reeling in the sudden silence, the ghost of her kiss burning on your lips.

Days bled into weeks. The garage, once just a place of curious observation, became a space charged with a different kind of tension. The dynamic shifted, subtly but irrevocably. Sevika began to punctuate the greasy silence not just with the clang of tools, but with kisses. They were unpredictable, never announced. Sometimes, while you were handing her a wrench, her hand would linger on yours, fingers brushing deliberately against your skin before she leaned in for a brief, firm press of lips. Other times, she might corner you against the workbench, the kiss deeper, more demanding, leaving you breathless and shaken.

She was terrifyingly good at reading you. Sevika seemed to possess an innate understanding of just how far she could push before genuine panic set in, before the ingrained guilt and fear instilled by your upbringing threatened to overwhelm the burgeoning, addictive thrill of her attention. She learned the subtle tells ...the hitch in your breath that signaled anticipation, the slight widening of your eyes when she crossed a boundary, the way you’d unconsciously lean into her touch despite your obvious nervousness. She played this knowledge expertly, doling out affection and intimacy with calculated precision, always keeping you slightly off-balance, always wanting more.

She knew exactly what she was doing, the practiced ease of her touches, the confidence in her kisses, designed to unravel you. A part of her, the arrogant, prideful part, relished the idea of someone seeing the pastor's pious daughter, willingly entangled with someone like her. It would be a delicious scandal, a testament to her power of influence. But she also recognized the brittle fear beneath your fascination. Pushing you into the public eye too soon would likely shatter the delicate connection she was forging, send you scurrying back to the safety of your prescribed world. So, for now, she granted you the privacy of the garage, the shared secret intensifying the illicit thrill for both of you.

Today felt different. An edgy anticipation hummed beneath your skin. You hadn't seen Sevika yesterday, a planned church event keeping you occupied, and the day before that, she'd been engrossed in a complex wiring job, offering no more than curt instructions and ignoring your hopeful glances. The absence of contact, after the growing pattern of unpredictable intimacy, left an annoying ache, a restlessness you didn’t want to acknowledge.

You were leaning against the workbench, watching her meticulously clean a carburetor part. She moved with that same focused intensity, her mechanical fingers surprisingly dexterous with the small components. The late afternoon sun slanted through the open garage door, casting long shadows. You traced a pattern on the dusty bench with your finger, trying to appear nonchalant.

Sevika straightened up, wiping her hands on a rag. She needed something from the higher shelves behind you. She moved towards you, her proximity instantly setting your nerves on high alert. Your breath caught. Is she…? She leaned in close, the familiar scent of oil, metal, and smoke filling your senses. Her face was inches from yours; you could see the faint lines around her eyes, the dark intensity of her gaze as she reached past you for a can of cleaner on the shelf.

Your heart, which had leaped into your throat, plummeted with disappointment. She pulled back, turning away without a word, without even a glance.

An involuntary sound, a small huff of frustration, escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Sevika paused, halfway back to her task. She turned slowly, that knowing, slightly cruel smirk playing on her lips again. "Something bothering you, Pastor's kid?"

You flushed, caught out. "No. Nothing."

"Really?" She took a step closer, invading your space again, her presence magnetic and intimidating. "Sounded like you were expecting something." Her eyes glittered with challenge. "If you want something," she said, her voice dropping lower, rougher, "you need to learn to ask for it."

The implication hung heavy in the air. Ask for it? Ask her? For a kiss? The very idea sent a wave of heat crawling up your neck. Your strict upbringing, the ingrained modesty, the sheer audacity of voicing such a desire warred with the memory of her touch, the addictive thrill of her attention, the frustrating ache of wanting it now. Embarrassment tightened your throat, but her challenging stare, the sheer force of her personality, pushed you.

"I... I just..." The words tangled on your tongue, thick with mortification. You couldn't look at her. "Maybe... could you...?"

Before the full, humiliating request could stumble past your lips, Sevika moved. Her human hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up forcefully. Her mouth crashed down onto yours, harder than before, a kiss that wasn't teasing but staking a claim, punishing your hesitation and rewarding your tentative compliance all at once. It stole the air from your lungs, demanding a response you were barely capable of giving, lost in the sudden onslaught. You would plead more often if this is the reward you'll be getting.

But then, just as you felt yourself start to sway, the kiss shifted. Her lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, down the sensitive column of your throat. You gasped, your head instinctively tilting back, granting her access. It was uncharted territory, a shocking escalation that sent shivers racing across your skin. She paused there, her breath warm against your pulse point, her eyes, dark and intense, searching yours. It wasn't a question asked in words, but the query was unmistakable: May I?

Every warning bell from your past screamed 'no,' screamed 'danger,' screamed 'sin.' But the feeling of her lips against your skin, the possessive grip on your jaw, the raw, predatory focus in her eyes… it silenced everything else. You couldn't speak, couldn't think, could only feel the frantic beat of your heart against her proximity. You didn't pull away. Your eyes fluttered shut.

That was answer enough.

Sevika smirked against your skin before her mouth closed firmly over the juncture where your neck met your shoulder. You jolted at the sharp, sucking pressure, a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper escaping you. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was intense, startling, possessive. She lingered for a moment before pulling back slightly, her thumb brushing over the spot.

She surveyed her handiwork, a dark, blooming mark against your skin, a visible sign of her claim. A low sound of satisfaction rumbled in her chest. She leaned close to your ear, her voice a rough whisper that sent another wave of shivers through you.

"That's right," she murmured, the words a praise for you bravery of coming out of your comfort zone. "Good girl. Now you will know who you belong to everytime you look into the mirror."

Weeks passed, sevika ever the presistor never let the mark leave your neck, you had to constantly choose clothing with high collar but the smile on your lips screamed "worth it". Dinners at your parents’ house was usually a quiet affair, governed by polite conversation and the rhythmic clinking of silverware. Tonight, though quiet, felt different inside you. A secret warmth curled in your stomach, a buoyancy that made it hard to keep the corners of your lips from twitching upwards. You kept your eyes mostly on your plate, the high, stiff collar of your blouse feeling both protective and suffocating against the sensitive skin of your neck. The dark marks hidden beneath were a constant, thrilling reminder of Sevika, a secret language only the two of you shared.

"Mrs. Gable mentioned seeing you chatting with our new neighbor quite often, " your mother commented casually, placing a serving spoon back in the mashed potatoes "Sevika, wasn’t it?"

The sudden mention of her name made you inhale sharply, a piece of roast potato lodging itself in your throat. You coughed, eyes watering, as a strangled gasp escaped you. Your father immediately passed you the water glass, patting your back gently.

"Goodness, dear, careful," your mother fussed, though her expression held only mild concern, misinterpreting your reaction as simple surprise. "I was just saying, it’s nice you’re being so welcoming. Perhaps," she continued, turning a thoughtful look on you, "you could invite her to service this Sunday? It would be a kind gesture. Show her some community spirit."

Your father nodded approvingly. "That’s a fine idea," he said to your mother than after a pause he turned back to you "I’m really proud of you, dear, for looking past appearances and extending friendship. That’s true Christian spirit."

Guilt twisted sharply in your gut, mingling uncomfortably with the secret thrill. Spirit? Friendship? If they only knew. The image of Sevika’s lips against your neck, the possessive heat in her eyes, flashed in your mind. "Oh. Um, yes. Maybe I could," you mumbled, agreeing weakly. The thought of Sevika, Sevika with her utter lack of reverence for anything, stepping foot inside your father’s church was terrifying.

The next afternoon, back in the familiar territory of the garage, the anxiety from last night returned tenfold. You perched on your usual crate, watching Sevika work, but your usual quiet observation was replaced by a nervous fidgeting you couldn’t control something so out of ordinary for you. Your mind was occupied, What if she laughed in your face? What if she said no and thought you were trying to force your beliefs on her? Worse, what if she said no, and your parents took it as a sign she wasn’t receptive to ‘friendship’ and curtailed your visits?

Sevika, predictably, noticed immediately. She put down the wrench she was cleaning, her sharp eyes narrowing on your tense posture. She wiped her hands on a rag and walked over, stopping far too close, that familiar invasion of your personal space that still made your heart hammer. Her human hand came up, calloused thumb brushing softly against your cheekbone, a gesture that had become unnervingly familiar, a prelude to intimacy.

"Alright, Pastor’s kid," she said, her voice low. "Spit it out. You’ve been wound tighter than a spring nut since you got here.”"

Her closeness, the casual intimacy of her touch, momentarily scattered your thoughts. You took a shaky breath. "My parents… they, uh… they want me to invite you to church. On Sunday." The words tumbled out in a rush, braced for refusal or mockery.

Sevika’s expression didn’t change much, perhaps a flicker of surprise deep in her eyes, quickly masked. Church? Her? The idea was ludicrous. She hadn’t stepped inside one since… well, she couldn’t even remember. Honestly, she couldn’t care less about stained glass and sermons. But then she looked at you, properly looked. Saw the genuine anxiety knotting your brow, the way you chewed on your lower lip, the plea in your wide eyes. Seeing you this worked up, this vulnerable… fuck it. How bad could one boring hour be? Besides, the image of walking into his domain, the pastor’s holy ground, with his daughter marked and claimed by her… the sheer audacity appealed to her confrontational nature. But it wouldn’t be Sevika if she didn’t make you work for it, just a little.

She pulled her hand back, folding her arms, leaning against the workbench with feigned contemplation. “Hmmm, church,” she drawled, tapping her mechanical finger against her bicep. "Don’t know. Not really my kind of place, you know? Lotta judgment, usually."

"No, it’s not like that!" you rushed to assure her, desperation making your voice high-pitched. "Everyone’s really nice, and Dad’s sermons are… well, they’re good! Please, Sevika? It would make my parents happy..." and I don't know what will happen if you decide not to you though to yourself.

Sevika watched your earnest pleading, a slow smirk building. She already knew she was going, but the game was too enjoyable you were too adorable to resist like this. She pushed off the workbench, to lean in close again. Her eyes dropped pointedly to the high collar of your shirt. Before you could react, her fingers deftly hooked under the fabric, pulling it aside just enough to reveal the fading, but still visible, mark she’d left days before. Her head dipped, and her lips attached themselves firmly to the spot, a deliberate, possessive reclaiming. You gasped, hands automatically coming up to grip her forearms, clinging as the familiar heat and pressure sent tremors through you. She lingered, tasting her claim, reinforcing her ownership right there in the greasy light of the garage.

She lifted her head, eyes dark and intense. The smirk was gone, replaced by smoldering satisfaction. "Okay," she said, her voice rough. "I’ll go." She released your collar, letting it snap back into place, hiding the freshly renewed evidence. Her gaze held yours. "But you owe me one, Pastor’s kid. Big time. One day, I’m gonna ask you to do something for me, and you’re gonna do it. No questions asked. Got it?"

Staring into those commanding eyes, feeling the phantom heat of her mouth on your skin, you didn’t really know what else you could possibly give her, what favor she could possibly want that she hadn’t already begun to take. But trapped in the force of her will, you could only nod dumbly. "Got it."

Sunday morning arrived with a nervous flutter in your stomach. You stood near the entrance of the church with your parents, greeting familiar faces, your eyes constantly darting towards the heavy wooden doors. And then, she arrived.

Sevika stood framed in the doorway, a stark contrast to the pastel dresses and neat suits surrounding her. She wore dark jeans, sturdy boots, and a plain, dark button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal both her mechanical arm and the intricate tattoos snaking up her human one. She looked… out of place, yes, but also undeniably powerful, her usual intimidating aura somehow amplified in this setting of quiet reverence.

Your father, ever the gracious host, stepped forward immediately, hand outstretched. "Sevika! Welcome, welcome! We’re so pleased you could join us."

Sevika took his hand, her grip firm. "Pastor," she acknowledged, her voice neutral. Her eyes, however, immediately found yours across the small space. And they widened, just slightly.

You wore a simple white dress, knee-length, with short sleeves and a modest neckline it was your typical Sunday attire but sevika had never seen it. seeing you like this, bathed in the soft light filtering through the stained-glass windows, your hair neatly done, a gentle, almost shy smile gracing your lips as you met her gaze… Sevika felt an unexpected jolt. You always looked neat, proper. But today, surrounded by the trappings of your faith, you looked… breathtaking. Ethereal. An innocence so potent it was almost provocative. That kind smile, directed at her… damn it all, she wanted to drag you out of here right now, push you against the ancient stone walls and kiss you senseless, wipe that serene look right off your face and replace it with the dazed flush she was becoming addicted to.

The service began, and you found yourselves sitting side-by-side in a wooden pew. You felt Sevika’s restlessness beside you, the slight shifting, the way her mechanical fingers tapped silently on her knee. You assumed it was discomfort the unfamiliar hymns, the prayers, the sheer foreignness of the environment for someone like her. You risked a small glance; she wasn’t looking at the altar or your father in the pulpit. She was looking at you. Specifically, at the way your hands were clasped loosely in your lap as you bowed your head in prayer, your expression earnest and focused. Adorable. Utterly, maddeningly adorable.

Leaning closer during a moment swallowed by the organ’s swell, Sevika’s lips brushed your ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down your spine despite the sacred surroundings. "Where's the Restroom?" she whispered, her voice a low, rough command against the delicate shell of your ear. "End of the hall." You whispered back gesturing with a tilt of your head to the direction. "Great, yo have five minutes to come after I go" she voiced in a stern tune that didn't allow any argument.

You jolted, turning wide eyes to her. Now? Here?

Sevika merely raised a knowing eyebrow, a silent reminder of the debt you owed. Pride flared in her chest ... cashing in the favor so soon, so brazenly, right under the nose of the Pastor himself. She gave your knee a quick, firm squeeze under the cover of the pew, then stood smoothly and slipped out into the side aisle, heading towards the back.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. This was insane. Sacrilegious. But the memory of her kiss, the weight of her promise, and the undeniable pull she exerted overrode everything else. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only two agonizing minutes, you mumbled an excuse about needing water to your mother and slid out of the pew, legs trembling as you followed Sevika’s path.

The restroom was small, utilitarian, smelling faintly of bleach and old plumbing. Empty. The lock clicked shut behind you, loud in the sudden silence. Before you could even take a breath, Sevika had you backed against the cool tile wall, her mouth descending on yours in a hungry, almost frantic kiss. It was all pent-up frustration from the service, the forced restraint, the maddening sight of you looking so pure and untouchable.

Her hands were immediately busy, fingers fumbling with the small pearl buttons at the neck of your white dress. One, two, three gave way, exposing the smooth skin of your collarbone and the tops of the marks she’d already left. Her lips abandoned yours, attaching themselves to your neck with bruising intensity, licking, sucking, biting lightly, drawing a choked gasp from you.

"So damn beautiful," she muttered against your skin, praising the way you trembled under her assault. Her hands roamed, sliding over the fabric of your dress, mapping the curve of your waist, the swell of your hip, then drifting higher to cup your breast through the material. She was trying to maintain some semblance of control, trying to just "put out the fire," as she’d thought of it, but touching you, marking you here, in this forbidden place, was intoxicating.

Her mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of fire across your collarbone, then lower still, finding the delicate skin just above the swell of your breast, hidden by the loosened dress. She nipped gently, then soothed the spot with her tongue, leaving another dark bloom against the white skin.

She pulled back abruptly, breathing hard, her eyes blazing with a barely contained inferno. Her mechanical hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to hers. You looked dazed, lips swollen, eyes wide and dark, the picture of illicit surrender.

"You’re making me crazy, Pastor’s kid," she growled, her voice thick with desire. "Making me want things I shouldn’t, especially not here." She leaned her forehead against yours for a second, trying to regain control. "God help you when I finally stop holding back."

And with that lingering threat, that promise of future intensity hanging heavy in the small, sterile room, she released you, leaving you trembling against the wall, marked and claimed within the very heart of your father’s church.

An: do we want pt2? (•-•)

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

DC BATFAM FANFIC IDEAS

Bruce not telling anyone in the JL his identity and one day he casually mentions something only an orphan would understand. - The JL members who are orphans understand. The others don't. - The entire JL gets concerned.

Tim's nervous (Read: really scared) around Jason. Jason does not like this and wants to fix it. Wait, why does Bruce glare daggers at Jack Drake? - Jason: I sense child neglect. Dad's already onto it, i see. Ok so how do i use this to get Tim stop fleeing the room whenever i walk in.

Sort of an AU fic where Bruce and Oliver were close friends (Read: brothers and that's what they see each other as) as kids, still as adults, and as vigilantes they work pretty well together, they recognized each other instantly even in cape, and while the the JL doesn't know their identities, each knows the other. - Also they're both autistic and somehow chaos ensues after Flash overhears them talking one day at the Watchtower and now the JL wants to know how these work so well.

Bruce was a wild child and so is Damian.

Jason adjusting to being under a roof, right after Bruce found him.

The first days of Tim's being Robin. Bruce and Dick are concerned, while, oblivious, Tim is doing things that only neglected kids do. He is surprised others care. Dick sets out to change this.

AU where Jack ends up being a crap dad. Bruce has had enough and steals legal custody. - Bruce: Well you had one chance at being a dad and you blew it. - Bruce: Tim's my kid now. - Jack can't do anything about this. To Tim, Jack is 'Father'. Bruce is 'Dad'.

Some of the villains notice that the other vigilantes and even Red Robin himself like joking that 'RR's folks don't even notice that he practically lives at our place, they won't notice him sneaking back in at 2AM'. - Until one day they joke about 'RR's dad blew it. B took legal custody'.

Flash has ADHD but tells no one. The other see the signs tho. Batman calls him out on hiding it. Why Bat? Welp, the other nominated him. GA joins his autistic buddy tho.

This isn't Batfam but Billy/Captain Marvel accidentally drops some street child stuff. The League, of course, pick it up.

Bruce has trust issues. No specific event- just it was that way after his folks died. The JL figures it out that it's not just how he is, he just generally doesn't trust people. They figure out that something happened to make him this.

The JL has to come to Gotham for a mission. They have to stakeout in a graveyard. At some point while they still have a few hours, Batman slips off. When *insert any JL member(s)* find him, he's standing above two graves. They catch him saying "Hope you're proud, Mom, Dad." - Chaos ensues from this.

Kid!Dick has a nightmare. Bruce allows his kid to spend the night with him.

Cass gets into a fight with David Cain. She is shaken. Bruce is there for her, though.

Duke has a nightmare.

Tim tries to sneak outside after having a nightmare. Bruce catches him because he's a Dad. He sensed a disturbance in the force. Anyway instead of getting mad he makes it clear who Dick learned it from and tickles Tim to bits and then carries him back to bed lol.

That's all i got for now lol. Might update it if i get more ideas.

[81pastrys]

lila fic (unless u think it fits someone else better) where she has night terrors at night and lando comes home from racing and walks in the middle of one w mom trying to help but can’t rlly and its been happening all weekend so she’s exhausted

Night Terrors

Summary— Lila sees Lando crash and it causes nightly disturbances, her mum exhausted from the lack of sleep, until Lando comes home and soothes her.

Warnings— night terrors ; mentions of minor crash ; screaming/crying toddler

A/N— No Words.

Dad Lando List

Divider @bernardsbendystraws

Lila was a happy and cheery little girl, her personality mirroring Lando’s. When he crashed in a practice, but was fine, it scared her. She usually wasn’t scared to see him race or get into the car, but now it weighed on her.

Her mind replaying the crash as she slept, over and over. He had a race and it was too late for her to watch but she knew he would get into the death trap. “Mama I don’t want daddy to get hurt.” Lila worried before bed. He was racing and then coming straight home for the 3 week break.

“Daddy will be fine sweetheart, let’s get to bed yeah?” Her mum said. She started rocking Lila to sleep, it helped to soothe her and calm her before bed. Lila fell asleep and was moved to her princess bed, but not for much time. Thrashing in her sleep and screaming for Lando.

Lando was driving on his way home while his wife was exhausted and overwhelmed by Lila’s reoccurring night terrors of his minor crash. Lila’s mum would shush her and sing lullaby’s but nothing, even bringing the little girl to sleep on Lando’s side of the bed didn’t help, which was usually a one way ticket to her mum getting some sleep at least. Lila was screaming and crying, afraid of sleeping and seeing the crash again.

“Lila please, daddy is okay.” Her mum said, genuinely out of ideas. “Can we lay down and try to sleep? I’ll hold you I promise.” She played with Lila’s hair as she paused screaming to listen. Lila nodded, but instead of sleeping, she just laid in the comfort of her mums arms.

Quiet hiccups or sniffles could be heard, but her mum was asleep. The exhaustion taking her almost immediately when Lila stopped screaming. Lila, who was also exhausted after the day and screaming, fell into sleep too.

Lando walked into the house, startled by Lila’s screams once again. He rushed to the sound and found his wife face down in a pillow, trying to die out the noise. Lila reached for him and cried harder. “Oh my baby.” He cooed. He picked her up and rocked her, taking her to the main area so his wife could finally get the sleep she deserved.

Lando didn’t need any explanation, he had heard of Lila’s periodic waking from his wife over the phone. He debated putting Lila in her own bed, but decided she was just going to wake them again anyway. “Daddy.” She whined in his arms while clutching his hoodie.

“Daddy’s here, sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’ll hold you, you need to go to sleep.” He swayed while rocking her and she fell limp against him. He did a few extra things while she slept on him, putting his bags away, doing some laundry. He turned the lights off and laid with Lila on the couch as to not disturb his wife anymore than she already was.

Lila knew she was safe and so was he, if he was holding her, the night terrors making their way out of her mind. They slept in on the couch, not waking until mid-day.

I got to work and talk with my future husband today 🤭

@chertik-007vvv @pandabiiissh @angelluv16 @il0vereadingstuff @kallanfiona

[harrysfolklore]

uncle harry

gif by @kiwikiwiandkiwi <3

im so soft rn, enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The phone ringing in the middle of the night meant bad news most of the times.

However, when you and Harry were woken up by the sound of his ringtone, his mum on the other line frantically saying "It's time! The baby is coming!", you couldn't be happier.

Gemma broke the news that she was expecting a few months ago and Harry was man enough to admit that he cried a waterfall, not being able to contain his happiness over becoming an uncle.

And you were absolutely melted at the sight of him being excited about it, every single time he went out, he would come back with stuff for the baby, he face-timed his sister every night and overall he couldn't stop talking about being an uncle.

When Harry found out that he was going to have a niece, his excitement reached a whole new level. He started planning everything, from what he would teach her to the tattoo he would get for her once she was born, and once again, it made your heart burst to see your boyfriend so excited.

So now you headed to the hospital, ready to meet the brand new addition to the Styles family.

"I'm so excited," Harry said as he drove through the streets of London, holding your hand, "I can'y believe Gemma is a mummy now, feels like just yesterday we were pulling each other's hair and arguing over the last piece of cheesecake."

You smiled at him, kissing his knuckles softly and placing your intertwined hands on your thigh, "Feels like just yesterday I met her for the first time at your show, I was so nervous!"

"You really were, lovie," he smiled at the memory, "And you ended up becoming inseparable."

"What can I say? She's the cooler Styles."

Harry gave you a side eye and then laughed along with you, the rest of the drive was quiet and soon enough you were pulling up to the hospital where a few family members already stopped by to meet the little bundle of joy.

"Are you ready to meet your niece?" you turned to look at him as you unbuckled your seat belt, noticing that he had small tears in his eyes, "H? Baby are you crying?" you grabbed his chin and couldn't help but smile tenderly when he looked at you with watery eyes, "Oh my gosh, you're too adorable."

"I just, I can't believe I'm about to meet my sister's baby, that's insane."

You kissed his lips shortly, grabbing his face with both of your hands when you pulled away.

"She's already so lucky to have the best uncle in the world," you pecked his lips again, "Now let's go, I'm eager to meet her too."

You and Harry entered the hospital, hand in hand, ready to meet the newest member of the Styles family. As you approached Gemma's room, you could hear the sounds of laughter and joy coming from inside.

When you walked in, you were greeted by a room full of close family members, the room was pretty spacious and had a spare area where visitors could hang around without disturbing Gemma and the baby. Anne immediately approached both of you, happiness radiating from her eyes.

"You made it!" she said as she hugged you, turning to Harry when you pulled away, "H, baby! I'm a grandmother!"

"And I'm an uncle! Holy shit!"

You melted at the interaction, over the years the Styles-Twist family had taken you as one of their own and you were happy to be present for important moments like this.

"How is Gem? Is she awake? Can we see the baby now?" Harry eagerly asked after hugging his mom.

"She is fine, doing amazing," Anne said proudly, "Michal is inside with her, let's go."

Anne guided you to the door that lead to Gemma's private room, Harry squeezed your hand and you walked next to him, excitement evident on his every step.

Anne opened the door, peeking her head inside, "Your brother is here."

You and Harry walked in, Gemma was lying on the bed looking tired but happy nevertheless, a tiny head peeking from the blanket on her arms.

"About damn time, I was about to pick a different godfather for her if he didn't show up soon," Gemma sassed, making Harry turn his head back in laughter.

"Dammit, you're really a mum now," he approached his sister, you decided to stay back with Anne, "The bloke your brought to my concert years ago really was the one huh? Who would've thought."

"What can I say, mate? You trying to sabotage our date was kind of our blessing." Michal chimed in, standing next to Harry and patting his back.

"Congratulations, mate. I can't think of a better guy for my sister." Harry said as he hugged him, everyone looking at the scene tenderly.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to hold your niece now?" Gemma wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, holding out her arms to him.

Harry took the baby into his arms, his face lighting up with pure joy. He cradled her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hello, beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm your Uncle Harry, and I already love you so much."

You felt your eyes get watery at the sight, Harry looked up at you and urged you to come closer to him and the baby.

"This is your auntie," he cooed to the baby again once you were standing next to him, "She's the coolest ever and makes the best pancakes, you're going to absolutely love her just like I do."

"She's gorgeous," you said as you looked at the baby's face, "Congratulations, Gem."

"Thank you," Gemma said softly, a tired smile on her face but her eyes shining with gratitude.

"Just so you know," Harry looked at Gemma with a serious face, "She's not allowed to have any boyfriends until she's like 30."

Michal laughed and agreed with Harry, you rolled your eyes at him and Gemma shook her head.

"Uncle overprotective, that's what you are," Gemma said, a yawn coming out of her mouth right after, "I can't even imagine how is it going to be when you have your own kid."

You felt butterflies in your stomach at this, Harry giving you a small smile and winking at you.

"Let me put a ring on her finger first please," he turned to look at Gemma, "Because unlike you, sister, I'm not having children out of wedlock."

"Come on, now!" Michal protested, making the entire room laugh.

Hours passed and Harry was glued to the baby, babbling nonsense to her and cooing at every little thing she did. Eventually Gemma drifted off to sleep and that was everyone's cue to leave and let both her and the baby rest.

"I'm so happy right now," Harry said as you drove back to your house, "I feel so happy for Gemma, and for our family."

"She's going to be the best mum ever," you looked away from the window to face him, "And you're going to be the best uncle."

"Thank you for being here with me today, for sharing this moment with me. I love you."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I'm so happy for you, for all of us. Today was perfect."

"And I meant what I said back there, I'm not letting her have a boyfriend until she's 30."

"Whatever you say, uncle overprotective!"

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part - Gives You Hell

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / Next Part

Word count: 4.3k

-If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well, then he's a fool, you're just as well, hope it gives you hell-

Four minutes left.

You rushed through the park, cursing that the tiled path wasn’t straight. More than anything you cursed your own refusal to run over the grass just to save half a minute. Damn Miss Harrington for keeping everyone after class.

“I dismiss you, my ass,” you wasted precious air to complain and knowing you’d have to go back if you went for the gate, you just jumped over the fence, wincing as it shook behind you. Someone yelled at you to be more careful, but you just began running again, just barely crossing the street before the light turned red.

You spared a moment to look at your watch, two minutes left, and the library was finally in sight. You picked up the pace, luckily avoiding the crowd. Your lungs were burning, tempting you to stop and take a break. So what if you were a minute or two late for work? The world wouldn’t end if you failed to get there on time.

As if. The world might not end, but you were too proud of your perfect record to accept that. You would be there on time and then catch your breath.

“Watch out!” a cyclist yelled a warning, and you looked to the side and just narrowly avoided colliding with him.

“Sorry!” you yelled back as he cursed after you. Well, you did cross his path, so he had the right to do it. Not that you had the time to contemplate on your reckless running as you skidded to a stop in front of the library and went up the stairs as fast as you could. “Right on time,” you went through the door with less than twenty seconds to spare and were met with the annoyance of the people in the library trying to read.

You chuckled sheepishly and then sighed, hanging your head low as you walked through the library as if it was your personal walk of shame. You could just feel the disapproving glares following you, and though you knew it wasn’t exactly everyone in the library judging you it still felt like that. In reality it was more like three people out of about a dozen currently in the library.

“Maybe next time ruin your perfect record instead of barging in and disturbing everyone,” your co-worker and best friend Alex whispered as you went into the break room to leave your things.

“Leave her be, I think it’s cute,” one of the regulars at the library, a pretty, tall girl whose name you somehow kept forgetting whispered and winked at you.

You just shrugged, nodding thanks out of politeness. You were still not sure if she was trying to flirt with you or if she just so happened to always pick the table closest to the counter you and Alex were sitting behind.

~X~

A bit over six and a half hours later, with your backpack on your back and a small paper bag in hand, you opened the doors of the apartment on the seventh floor. You glanced back at the staircase and then at the elevator that worked once in a blue moon. ‘Guess I’m lucky I’m in shape,’ it was a thought that often crossed your mind. Well, childhood spent playing different sports helped.

You locked the doors behind you. “I’m home!” you exclaimed, yelling over the sound of the TV, some animal documentary from what you could hear. Whales? Probably whales. Your mom liked whales a lot. You looked around, the fading scent of cleaning products grabbed your attention, and you noticed it immediately. The lack of any dust, the clean mirror in the hall, tiled floor being so clean you could probably apply the three-second rule to the food if any was dropped on it. The apartment was too clean for your liking, she was cleaning again. Desperately trying to at least take that off your back. “Mom, don’t push yourself,” you sighed as you stepped into the living room and saw her lying on the sofa.

She looked… fragile… in pain, and you swallowed hard, remembering how healthy she was just a year ago. How did things change so quickly?

“Y/N,” she sat up, wincing and holding her back as she did so. “Hey, Sweetheart, how was your day?” she still gave you a gentle, loving smile as you set your bag next to the table and leaned in to kiss her cheek and hug her.

“Great, don’t worry about it,” you whispered and pulled out the medicine from the paper bag, pain killers, for her. Her back’s been killing her, so much so that she could no longer work.

She still went and cleaned the apartment because you just had no time to do it these past few days. The guilt gnawed at you, even if deep down you knew you physically couldn’t do everything.

You felt her hugging you tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to you on a daily basis, her voice quivering with regret. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt, seeing you work two jobs to take care of her and try and ensure you could continue your education.

“It’s going to be okay, everything will be okay,” and like always you reassured her, fearing something would break if you didn’t. You let go of her and went into the bathroom to freshen up and then heat the dinner up. You weren’t doing bad financially, with just the two of you and owning the two-bedroom apartment instead of paying the rent you had a comfortable life. The issue was saving money for the future, primarily for your college education, and there was no telling if your mom’s health would deteriorate further.

“Alex said hi, by the way. His parents invited us to come over for dinner if you’d like,” you said as you got the lasagna out of the fridge and set the table.

“He’s a good kid,” your mom commented, and he was. Alex was about a year older than you and working at the library, where you met him. You hit it off fairly quickly, he was easy to be around, easy to talk to, cheerful and always willing to encourage those around him.

“So, will you go with me?” you asked, and she nodded, while leaving the apartment would be a bit of a struggle you knew it would be good for her to go outside and be around other people.

~X~

Astrid Deetz was many things, but here, in the library, she was just another girl. No one but the people that worked here needed to know who she was, so, at least here, she wasn’t a freak. She was just another girl reading books. The library allowed coffee to be brought in, as long as the one bringing it was responsible for any potential damages and wasn’t borrowing one of the more valuable books that couldn’t easily be replaced, which was why she preferred reading here instead of going home.

Summer vacations forced her to spend time at home, with her mother, so, the more of that time she could spend away from home the better. Especially since Rory was often at her mother’s house. She was actually surprised he didn’t move in yet, but maybe her mother wasn’t completely blind after all. Who was she kidding? It was only the matter of time before he manipulated her mother into moving in.

Eventually she felt the need to go and grab a bite, so she got up and went to return the book only to see a rather annoying sight and freeze on the spot. There you were, the one flaw of the library she was currently in.

You were currently talking to a tall, blonde girl that looked ridiculously smitten with you, listening to every word you spoke as if you were solving all of life’s mysteries for her. How naïve did the girl have to be to get fooled by the soft, easy smile on your face and patience as you helped her find a new book. And you? Leading the poor girl on, knowing she didn’t really need help and being completely aware that she was just trying to flirt with you. Cruel pain in her ass, that’s what you were.

Luckily, she noticed Alex, your co-worker there as well and went toward him to return her book.

“Miss Deetz, hope everything was to your liking,” he greeted her politely, though Astrid noticed your mood immediately souring the moment her name was said. There it was, your true face. You hid it well though, and the girl blindly in love with you didn’t even notice the shift in your mood.

“Other than certain someone being here, absolutely,” Astrid didn’t even bother hiding her disdain for you.

Alex brushed it off and took the book back. “Good thing I’m here as well,” he said and Astrid wholeheartedly agreed.

“Chihuahua,” you faked a cough to hide the insult, and Astrid felt a vein pop on her forehead.

“Ignoramus,” she spat back and walked by you as you straightened your back, and she didn’t need to look back to know your eyes widened as you stared after her.

And she smiled, knowing she got a more genuine reaction than the girl a head taller than her ever could, no matter how much she flirted.

~X~

You were running on coffee and spite and simple need for money, otherwise you were sure you could fall asleep on your feet while you were washing the chisels and other tools Delia used. Tomorrow you could sleep in, relax just for a bit and recover from the grueling week. Morning job at Delia’s place, four hours, then summer art classes, preparing you for college. You were going to study architecture, hopefully to pursue your passion and design green and sustainable buildings.

And while working with Delia was helping you with your financial circumstances, it was also slowly letting you meet people, make connections and your life at least a bit easier in the future. Still, between working for Delia, the classes, and then the library you were away from home for roughly thirteen hours, which wasn’t exactly ideal for someone who just recently turned eighteen.

“Y/N, could you go and fetch new carving set I ordered?” Delia asked, well, it was more of an order, rather than a request.

“Now?” you asked as you glanced at the clock. You’d have to run again, and you’d probably still be ten minutes late, but work was work.

Delia must have followed your line of sight because she hummed. “No, pick it up on Monday,” she genuinely surprised you with that, she was usually a lot more absorbed in her own work to notice things like that.

“Thank you,” you smiled slightly.

“Architecture, right?” and she surprised you again, you didn’t think she’d remember a conversation you had several months ago.

You nodded and began drying the tools. “Green architecture, I hope,” you knew your eyes shone brightly as you said that. You loved talking about it, about how that was the future, the way to reach a compromise and protect the environment.

Delia looked lost in her thoughts for a moment and then she abruptly began laughing. “Hilarious,” she commented and shook her head.

You were confused, and frankly a bit annoyed, she didn’t strike you as someone who’d find it funny. Hell, she sounded a bit impressed when you first told her, so this reaction genuinely puzzled you. “What is?” you asked slowly, hoping your voice didn’t give away how you felt.

“Just how similar your views and goals are, yet you bicker all the time,” Delia pointed out and walked back to her sculpture, still chuckling every now and then.

You scowled, knowing exactly who she was talking about. The chihuahua that consumed the thesaurus and forced you to Google several words, ignoramus included. You should have guessed it basically meant someone ignorant. The damn infuriating pain in your ass. And Delia’s granddaughter, well, step-granddaughter.

And now Delia said you and Astrid had something in common.

Your day was ruined.

Beyond saving.

Well, maybe making Astrid Deetz lose her composure or force her to Google something would salvage your day, but how the hell were you supposed to make the walking thesaurus Google anything?

~X~

Work sweet work, well, compared to working for Delia. Sure, working for Delia was closer to your artistic side, but the library just had a charm to it that not a lot of places could compete with. The smell of old paper, layers of dust hidden from passing glances since the place was rarely properly cleaned. Not that you blamed anyone working here, you helped with the cleaning three times since starting to work here in the library, and your muscles ached at the mere thought of those times. Moving shelves upon shelves worth of books was not a fun activity. Still, the next one was still far off and perhaps you’d even be away from this city by then. Going off to study somewhere else, somewhere other than your hometown.

It was a slow day, and you leaned back, relaxing with one earbud in so you weren’t completely mentally absent from your workplace. You could just read, you likely will, in a bit, but you had a long sleepless night last night, studying and catching up on your art projects as well.

Eventually you cracked open a book about Renaissance architecture you meant to get your hands on for a long, long time, and now it was finally available at your workplace. Perks of working in the library, you guessed. Just as you were about to start reading the doors opening and a rather annoying girl walking in made your mood drop instantly. She didn't even look at you, just began looking through the shelves, clearly looking for something you could easily help her with if she wasn't so damn proud. You took a deep breath and walked over to the girl, at least you could get it over with quickly. "Deetz, what are you looking for?"

And she ignored you, completely, she didn't even go around you and instead moved with such certainty that you actually had to step back so she wouldn't walk into you.

So, she chose this approach today. It was either insults or pretending you didn’t even exist.

Infuriating entitled brat.

"This would be so much easier if someone worked here," she had the nerve to complain as your jaw dropped and you simply looked at her, flabbergasted by the girl's behavior yet again.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head as Alex came up to the two of you and you couldn’t be happier to see him jumping to your rescue.

"Hey, could you help me find a book?" she immediately asked him, and he looked between you and her with a raised eyebrow, as if he couldn’t already tell what was going on.

You just shrugged. "You're not invisible, good for you," you didn't leave yet, mostly out of spite. Astrid Deetz would not have the satisfaction of knowing she got under your skin, and she especially would not have the satisfaction of you backing away.

"What the- oh, you two are just playing another one of your games," he decided, completely ignoring the absolute dislike bordering on hatred between you and Astrid Deetz.

"I am not playing any games," you both said at the same time and huffed when you realized that.

"Would you look at that, you're in sync as well," he whistled as if he was trying to tease you.

"Bullshit!" you both denied it, once more at the same time and you just waved him off, though you were really tempted to flip him off, and went back to your desk. Pride and the damn Deetz gloating over her ability to indirectly annoy you be damned, you couldn’t stand being anywhere near her.

Eventually, your teasing, traitorous co-worker joined you. “She really likes reading, doesn’t she? And you’d think she’d be some rich kid who scoffs at the very idea of borrowing books instead of buying them, or even hate having the actual book in her hands instead of reading an e-book,” Alex commented, sounding actually impressed by the short annoyance.

You just grunted as a response, after all, you’d never admit you did notice what he just now pointed out. You noticed that from the moment you saw her, months ago, studiously going through several books seeking something rather specific. The unbreakable concentration impressed you back then, but back then you were blind to her actual personality. Still, if there were two things one could count on as far as Astrid Deetz was involved was that she hated her mother and loved reading. That being said Alex did not need to know you had any positive thought about the girl in question. You’d rather die than admit anything nice about the girl, even if deep down you did admire her love for books and reading.

“You’re not going to answer?” he probed for answers, though he should know better by now.

“I’ve got nothing to say,” you muttered and leaned onto your hand, if you could just avoid Astrid for the rest of your life, you’d be the happiest person alive, but no, you just needed to bump into her almost on a daily basis. Either in the library, or at your other work. Granted, it was mostly at the library, but sometimes she would drop by and visit her step-grandmother. That was, beside Delia sometimes getting ridiculous ideas, the only actual downside of your other work. Imagine your surprise when you went to work one day and saw Astrid there, you nearly quit right then and there.

“Yeah, cause she makes you Google new insult she hurls at you every other day,” Alex snickered, trying not to disturb anyone.

You groaned, facepalming as you leaned back in your chair. She really did make you Google things she said a lot. You still remembered Googling barnacle, her favorite word for you. Leave it to Astrid Deetz to declare you as something difficult to get rid of, when you’d do anything in your power to never see her again.

~X~

Astrid did not enjoy making trips to the parts of the town where her family might be, she seldom wanted anything to do with them, especially her mother, but it also began including her step-grandmother after she went and hired the worst possible candidate. You.

But, she had to go and visit a store a few floors above her grandmother so, here she was, in the elevator and certain she would not run into you the very next morning after your encounter at the library. She wasn’t that unlucky, was she? How she almost always ended up visiting during your shift was beyond her grasp. Maybe there was something in all the bullshit her mother talked about, and she was actually cursed with how often she encountered the one person she despised the most.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and she nearly didn’t look up to see who was coming in. She should have ignored it, should have stared at the wall or something, but no, no, she just had to look!

Astrid could not believe her misfortune as you, carrying a fairly big box, walked into the elevator one floor above her and so far down from her own floor so she would need to actually be in a closed space with you. And she despised the very idea of that. So, just as the doors were about to close she bolted outside.

"What the- that was reckless Deetz!" she heard you yelling. And if there was even a hint of worry in your voice it was absolutely because her grandmother would rope you into whatever funeral arrangement she would choose for her if Astrid happened to tragically pass away.

"Shut it!" she yelled back.

"Fucking chihuahua!" you cursed, and she could feel her blood pressure skyrocketing as the elevator went up. You and your awful nickname for her.

"Damn barnacle!" she yelled back loud enough for you to possibly hear her. She would have the last word no matter what! Insufferable thorn in her side that she couldn’t get out of her life no matter how hard she tried. And to make things even Delia occasionally mentioned you just to get a rise out of her.

Not that anyone needed to tell her anything, she knew you worked two jobs, for whatever reason. Barely any difference in age, yet such different circumstances. While Astrid could do nothing for the rest of her life and still be fine you apparently didn’t have that luxury.

And in those rare moments Astrid would actually notice you despite trying her best not to, she never once heard or saw you complaining about anything. She was actually the only reason for complaining you ever had as far as she could tell. So, while she could find it in herself to admit your work ethic was somewhat admirable, you still could go right back to whatever hell you came out of.

Because that is exactly what you deserved.

Hell.

Okay, maybe not hell.

But definitely not much better than hell!

~X~

You weren’t just annoyed, you were beyond pissed off. How reckless was that girl? “Yeah, I really need that on my consciousness,” you bit out, knowing you’d blame yourself if she ended up getting hurt just because you happened to get into the elevator when she was already inside it.

How were you even supposed to guess she’d be there?!

You opened the doors to Delia’s studio with your elbow and went inside, closing the doors behind you with your foot. You really should have just taken the stairs, but the box you were carrying would have been a pain in your ass if you went with that. Sore muscles might still be a better alternative to having this encounter with Astrid. “Chihuahua,” you gritted out through your teeth as you set the box down.

“Astrid?” you jumped when Delia suddenly spoke up.

You stared at her blankly, as if she needed to ask. She’s seen several of your and Astrid’s hateful clashes.

“She takes after her mother,” the older woman commented as you began pulling out different art supplies from the box.

You had no idea why Delia would even tell you anything about Astrid. You did not need to know, didn’t care about knowing. “I find it hard to imagine anyone could be as infuriating as her,” you frowned, causing Delia to laugh, almost delighted by the comment. Lydia seemed okay, a bit paranoid and utterly blind to her boyfriend’s true intentions, but otherwise she was nice. You couldn’t imagine Lydia being anything like Astrid when she was younger.

“Oh, you have no idea. I reckon Astrid’s attitude is karma finally paying a visit to Lydia,” she sure sounded certain of that claim and you just hummed, internally feeling sorry for whoever had to deal with Astrid being their karma. That seemed like a rather cruel and unjust punishment.

“Mr. Deetz won’t be joining us today?” you asked, noticing the absence of Delia’s husband, though you asked the question mostly to avoid talking about Astrid.

“No, no, he went bird-watching,” she dismissed and you nodded, knowing just how much the man loved doing so, even if it meant traveling the great distances. It was admirable, really, to see someone as old as he was still being passionate about something to that extent. You could only hope you’d have as much energy as him and Delia when you reach their age.

~X~

That night you stood in front of the canvas, a bit of paint smeared on your cheek, an old white shirt you were wearing and your hand. You held your paintbrush as you observed a fairly accurate painting of the Durham Cathedral. It’s been about a month since you started working on the painting, using what little free time you had to work on it, and here it was, finally complete. You set the brush and colors down on your table and sat down, just looking at it with a smile on your face.

You really wished you could go and visit it. You actually had a lot of places you wanted to visit, to study, to touch the old buildings, feel their history and the flow of time coursing through them. The flyer on your table caught your attention and you reluctantly picked it up. It was an ad, seeking volunteers for planting trees. You sighed, massaging your shoulder and wincing at the dull pain in your muscles. You had two days off, you should rest, but you already knew you’d go, you couldn’t help it, that was how you were.

So, knowing you’d go there early in the morning you went and got ready for bed, hoping the shower would relax your aching body.

~X~

“What the fuck?” Astrid halted in the middle of the park, hoping it was just the summer heat. Yeah, that had to be it. The heat was making her see things. It was your damn day off, wasn’t it? Why were you in the park digging a hole for a tree?

Astrid narrowed her eyes, furious at everything. At your shirt clinging to your arms. At the drop of sweat you just brushed off your forehead. At the concentrated look in your eyes and the focus and the way you still had the energy to come and volunteer despite working two jobs.

“Barnacle,” she hissed under her breath and went to the other part of the park, as far from you as she possibly could go while still doing her part as one of the volunteers.

A/N: So, tell me what you think and if you’d like to be on the taglist?

Masterlist / Next Part

[eclipse-msoul]

( Art is from Pinterest, I own the writing)

" Muse : The Painting "

Yandere! Dark Damian X Reader

(One short)

Your feet moved along with the sand as it quivered , washing under the shore of waves. Your dress flowed and the lace danced with the wind while your hairs growed under the sun giving a shine of gold. You hummed singing different tunes.

Not too far from here, a figure's fingers moved like they swing in dances. The paint squandered on his face. He was immersed in his muse - his hands moving like there was no tomorrow.

Then they stopped.

He let out a breath he didn't know he held in. His hands stretched back - his body straightened. Then his gaze turned to the piece of his muse.

His eyebrows arched into a furrowed position, the brush broke.His blue eyes scanned over every detail like a person obsessed. His fingers trembled and he looked up.

The sound of your giggles was reminiscent of his ears - his lips spread into a smile - while you danced without any hint of your admirer.

You hummed and your eyes blinked when you felt someone looking at you. Your head pulled up and your eyes met the stranger's. Something shined in that moment.

Like destiny in pebble stones.

Your eyes wavered to his features. Blue eyes kept on staring at you. So intense you felt it made your heart beat faster. You looked away for a second and then your eyes flickered back.

He was still gazing intensely at you.

Then a grin broke on his face.

Your face flushed.

“ Y/n!” And you broke out of your thoughts. Your head turned in a panic to see your younger sister running up to you. She hugged your legs and peeked with shiny eyes. “ Mom's calling. The food's ready.”

“ Oh?” Your eyes softened. A sound of hunger broke from her stomach. You smiled and patted her head. “ Let's get you something to eat. " The stranger's gaze followed while you made way to your family.

His green hazy eyes stayed in the back of your head.

He started at you moving away. His smile vanished just as he could no longer see you look his way. His gaze lingered at the eye contact you both made.

His gaze was sharp as he turned to look at the portrait in front of his eyes. You looked so beautiful, those plum red lips looked like the roses of blood themselves and your eyes - well - words wouldn't describe those crystal looking eyes.

“ Master Damian, The food is ready.” Came the voice of the butler. Damian didn't look back, only grunted at being disturbed. “ I'm not in the mood pennyworth.”

Alfred spoke, “ Well the food isn't going to finish itself.” Damian glared at him, Alfred signed. “ It seems all his sons are as stubborn as him.”

“ I'm my father's son, of course I resemble him.” Damian growled.

Alfred nodded unamused, “ Yes, that glare too, how appealing.”

Alfred walked closer and brought his hands towards the brush. He elegantly picked up the brushes placed in front of the man. His old veteran eyes met Damian's sharp ones.

He spoke with a cold voice. “ If the food doesn't suit your appeal, ‘Several Toys’ have been prepared, Master Dick is below in the cabin,you may join him if your heart desires.” He said, “ Now let me clear the mess.”

“T-t, fine.”

Damian let him go, taking away his brushes and paints. His ears strode up when he heard you calling your mother and father. He could see you having a barbecue party with your family and relatives.

Your bright smile as you stole a piece of barbecue was brilliant. He could almost see you and his children.

You being their mother and being his beloved and cherished wife. Oh, it would be stunning. Especially a good way to finally shut his brothers up.

Killing two birds with one stone.

He couldn't wait to see you spending time with all his sister-in-laws. They could use some company, more since his brothers and sisters had forbidden them to leave the cabin and kept them locked up.

He'd seen them weep so many times.

But you wouldn't be like that.

His family was foolish.

He wasn't so lost to let his darling believe she had such control. It would be good to get the green alien to ‘modify’ her emotions. But he wanted to feel you whole.

It wouldn't do, to make the mother of his children and his muse , be incomplete. Now would it?

His hand came closer to the amount of you humming as you walked down the shore. The paint smudged and strode near your ankles.

He smirked.

Yeah.

Those pretty ankles would do just fine.

Then she wouldn't be able to do what her sister-in-laws dreamed.

Thinking they could escape.

( Your lovely little eyes just need to look at him after all)

He got up and made his way to 'Toy cabin.'

Taglist : @animegoddess15

I'll probably upload the next chapter of "misfortune Lady" By tomorrow if nothing bad happens. Of course, the requests are in work too. Might take a while but I'll try my best. 💪('ω'💪)

This one short was for me get my momentum back. If you guys enjoyed, drop a small comment.It would really make my day and allow me to be encouraged to write more.((o(*>ω<*)o))

(No pressure here. But a comment woul be really appreciated)(*´∇`)ﾉ

Love you all byeeee 🩷🪿

[rafesslxt]

tom riddle headcanons with a reader who is bubbly, likes to wear too much pink, is naive etc (she could still be a slytherin, just not the evil sterotype yk) this is my first time requesting something i really liked your headcanons<:

PRETTY IN PINK

warnings: fluff, some tears, mention of sick family member

note: english is not my first language + this is a little rushed so excuse me pleeease

❀ y/n loves pink since she was a little kid. it almost came naturally

❀ when Tom first met her, he felt like he was in a feverdream. you crushed against him and stumbled backwards a little, his right arm wrapping around your middle to catch you while his body didn‘t even budged. "oh! hi! thank you so much wow uh i guess i didn‘t really see you. I mean you‘re really tall so i guess it‘s my fault for not seeing you since you couldn‘t be taller right? I‘m y/n by the way, I‘m a Slytherin too! You‘re Tom, right? I heard a lot about you and –" "Do you even breathe?"

❀ since that day you wouldn‘t get out of his head. he always catched your sweet perfume - matching your whole aesthetic in the hallway no matter which time or day it was. It lingered around him like a spell.

❀ he always had such a poker face no matter what his emotions deep down were – he never showed them. He only smiled out of formality or to be charming. Then there was you - always smiling, laughing, giggling at everything. There was nothing and no one that wasn‘t able to make you smile.

❀ one evening when everyone was outside the castle to watch a quidditsch game, ravenclaw against gryffindor, Tom decided to walk into the library. It was even quieter than usual when the room was full of students. He sat down in his usual spot pulled out some homework. After a few hours of reading, he heard a quiete giggling coming from a few bookshelfs behind him. His curiosity got the best of him and he searched for the source of the disturbing sound. he walked around the bookshelf and looked right at you with your owl next to you. "oh hey tom!" your voice sounded high pitched as you waved at him. "I didn‘t see you when you walked in! How are you? What are you doing he-" again, he intereupted you. "Can you be quiet?" "oh sorry!" you whisper yelled at him realizing he might wanted to study and needed a quiet place.

❀ you were good with almost everyone in school. everyone in your year greeted you like you did too. helping everyone felt natural to you since you were so caring and loved being there for your friends and even strangers

❀ one night tho, you felt as alone as you never did before. Tom found you sitting alone at the astronomy tower on the wet ground in your light pink floral dress, while it was pouring. and even tho he wasn‘t able to see your tears during the rain on your face, he could see your puffy lips, red eyes and nose. oh, and the heartbreaking look ln your face. "what are you doing out here?" he opened his umbrella and crouched down in front of you, holding the umbrella over you both

❀ you tried not to sob to loud and looked away. "i came outside and uh - it started pouring but–" "i asked what you‘re doing here, y/n." you took a deep, shaky breath before you answered his question properly. "my dad wrote me today and.. my mom is sick.. it‘s not getting worse bit also not better and i‘m so scared that sonethings going to happen to her- i mean-" another sob leaves your throat. "she my mom.."

❀ tom didn‘t know what do do or say, to make you feel better. so he just helped you stand up and took you back inside into the warmth of the castle. he folded the umbrella together before he took of his jacket. "here.. put this on." he says, wrapping it around your shaking body before you could even grab it by yourself. he guided you through the floors and walls, until you both were in your common room. he sat you down on the couch in front of the fire to dry up again.

❀ "thank you tom.." you whispered after a while as you two sat there next to each other in silence. his presence alone comforting enough.

❀ that night was the start of your friendship. you sat next to each other at breakfast and dinner, in class, went studying together, visited hogsmead on the weekends. that night was the start of a very long friendship and the start of a very deep bond.

taglist | masterlist

tags: @supernaturaldawning @belle-blue @cardibre91 @rriddlexx @aussiehufflepuff @aegonsslxt @helendeath @theblogformydeluluself @juliet-017 @lilith28zero @delacourdarling

xoxo sarah <3

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello, sorry for the inconvenience but I wanted to know if you can have one of baby Mikelason who only wants to be with Klaus Hayley and Hope if someone carries her she starts to cry

Hug

Flufftober, October 15th

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Klaus mikaelson x Hayley Marshall (and Hope + Kol)

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Klaus follows yours and Hope's giggles into the library. Once he gets there, he stops and leans against the doorway at the sight that's displayed in front of him.

On the ground is a soft blanket where you and Hope are sitting, playing with some toys. You guys are in your own little world, not noticing someone in the entrance of the room. But beside you where Hayley sits on the leather couch, her head pops up from where she was watching you both with a smile on her face.

Her attention is turned over to the man, and she nods her head to the side in a meaning to come in and not just lurk in the doorway. Klaus pushes his side off from the door frame and walks over to the three of you.

"What brings you here?" Hayley asks him once he sits beside her. "I heard my daughter and baby sister apparently having some fun" He answered before turning his attention to the two of you.

At the moment, you and a one year old Hope are stacking foam blocks into some sort of building to place the little doll figures on. The blocks and the small dolls are some of the most used toys by the two of you. You guys could sit on the blanket or a bed and play with them for hours without getting bored.

Though after the tower falls down again, sending both of you into giggles, you finally notice the other presence in the room. You turn around and see your big brother sitting next to Hayley on the couch. "Niky!" You exclaim, getting up and bounding over to him.

"Hello, sweetheart. Having fun with Hope?" He asks as he pulls you up into his lap, facing him. "Yeah. Hopey an' me p'ay" You nod your head.

Hayley smiles at your response, being so fond of the little girl that you've been basically joined at the hip with. She finds it so endearing hoe you gush about Hope for how much you love her. She thought once she was born, you were going to not be as pleased with there being another little one around and in the family. But she couldn't be any more wrong, you absolutely adore the newest family member.

Hayley stands leans over to pick said girl up from the blanket as well once she sees her little yawns. Hope immediately snuggles into her mom's chest and closes her eyes, telling Hayley it was about time for a nap.

"I'm going to go put Hope down for her nap. Do you want to come, or stay with your brother, Hun?" She asks, smiling over to where you're looking up at the one year old in her arms.

"Umm, I stay Niky" You answer, you haven't gotten to spend much time with your big brother lately and you've missed him. "Okay, I'll see you later, Baby" She leans down gently, not wanting to disturb the half asleep girl, and places a kiss to the top of your head.

As Hayley walks out of the room, you wave before turning back to face Klaus. "Well, what do you want to do, my little troublemaker" He asked, running his hand through your hair.

"Hug" is all you tell him before crashing forward into his chest and wrapping your tiny arms around as much of him as you can. Klaus wraps his arms around your back, enveloping you into his embrace in return. You cuddle into him, your face pressed against his soft henley.

"Is everything alright, y/n?" He asks you quietly. He's not used to your total calmness unless it's at night or your taking a nap with Hope. All you do is nod as an answer. "Alright, did something happen while I was away?" Again you just shook your head in response. Klaus doesn't have a clue what this quiet version of you brought it on. Though, he may have a slight suspicion, he just may have given himself the answer.

"Did you miss me?" He asks, rubbing his hand up and down your back. At that, you pull away only a bit to look up at him and nod with big puppy dog eyes. "We'll spend some alone time together than, hmm?" He tells you. "Yeah" you say in agreement before going back to cuddling into his chest as he relaxes back into the couch.

He's been gone for basically the entire week, barely showing up at the abattoir to make sure the recent threat of the quarter witches was taken care of. Him and along with your other siblings haven't been around for the same reason. They want to keep you and Hope safe from any threat that could make it's way over to you guys.

Though the alone time you guys planned didn't last. Not too long after you guys were just relaxing with each other and somewhere between, Klaus reaching over and pouring himself a drink, someone bursts into the room. You shriek at the loud sound and cling to your brother tighter.

About to hide you from any attacker, Klaus took sight of who exactly it is and let out an agitated sigh. "Must you barge in, little brother" Klaus didn't mean it as a question, and the other person knew it as well.

"Yes, of course I must, Nik. Or else where would my brotherly duties be?" Kol answered nonetheless with a cheeky smile before making his way over to the two of you.

You're still hidden in Klaus' chest from the fright of the bang before. "You don't need to be afraid, Y/n/n. It's just me" Kol calms his voice and crouches down behind where you're sat on Nik's lap.

"Kol?" You slowly turn your head out of the secureness of Klaus' chest. "Yep, just me. Your best big brother" Kol answers, ignoring Klaus' eye roll at the comment.

"And I have a surprise! You want cookies?" His eyes glimmer with joy while asking you. "Yeah!" You exclaim back at the notion of eating cookies.

"Alrighty then, let's go!" He plucks you out of Klaus' lap and places you on his hip, heading towards the hallway.

But before he could make it past the threshold of the door, an earsplitting shriek filled the room, making Kol hiss in displeasure from having his ear so close to the source it came from.

Tears started to threaten to fall down your flushed cheeks, making Kol surprised and his eyes widening. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Kol asks, sadness hinting in his voice. He never means to hurt you, but now he's scared he had.

Klaus stands from the couch and quickly works his way over to the two of you. He takes you into his arms from Kol's and sways you in his arms, calming you down right away to where you snuggle back into his chest.

"I'm sorry" Kol tells you and he guesses Nik as well. "I didn't mean to hurt her, I swear" Kol tells his brother, pleading that he'll believe him.

Klaus sighs at the emotion coming from Kol, "No, you didn't hurt her. She just likes to only be held by me and Hayley most of the time and has bad reactions when others do." Klaus explains, feeling a tad sorry for his little brother.

"Oh, uh, I didn't know. I haven't been around a lot. I;ve been spending time with Davina. Sorry again though, y/n/n. I promise I'll ask next time, okay?" Kol cautiously tucks your hair behind your hair.

You look up at him with glossed eyes and nod in agreement. You never meant to make your brother sad, you just wanted to stay with Niky.

"It's alright. You're not the only one this has happened to. It happened with Marcel last week and he almost started freaking that he'd done something wrong like you had. It's just some new attachment she's gotten. Don't worry, soon she'll be all clingy to everyone again. We just have to give it some time." Hayley enters the room and speaks softly to Kol, explaining more in depth.

After, Kol slowly nods in understanding. "Okay, yeah. that makes sense, she spends the most time with you" Kol says. "I guess I'll see you guys later. Oh, and the cookies are on the kitchen counter" Kol remember to give that information before leaving the room.

He's obviously sad, but he understands that you're going through a clinging stage. It's normal, he shouldn't hold it against you.

"Is she alright?" Hayley comes closer to the two of you, asking Klaus. "She'll be just fine. Only needs some time to calm down is all" Klaus smiles at the hybrid woman.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 8

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence, threats, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.8K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Feet together, shoulders back, strong core, and breathe.” Your eyes are closed, finding a moment of peace as you lead your sons through your morning yoga routine.

“This is supposed to be a challenge?”

“That doesn’t sound like breathing Luke,” you laugh, opening your eyes to see the bored look on Luke and Joffrey’s faces. Jace, to his credit, was trying to concentrate. “Inhale as you reach to the sky,” you say as you bring your arms up, “and exhale as you go down.” Exhaling, you fold your body down, hands touching the floor. You lead them through a sun salutation before indulging them in some more complicated poses and sequences.

“Our next pose is Crow, just remember to breathe and find your center.” You demonstrate before walking them through the steps. Yoga was one of the few things about your old life that you refused to give up. Even if you weren’t the most active person before waking up here, yoga and meditation were a huge part of your daily routine. Within a week of being here, you found yourself slipping out of bed early to find a quiet balcony.

The boys had stumbled across your morning flow today, and insisted on giving it a try. It was rare that you shared pieces of your past life with anyone, but their enthusiasm was infectious.

“Ah-” Joffrey lost his balance, falling to the ground in a fit of giggles. 

“So close sweet boy,” you laugh. “Try it again, you almost had it-”

“Mom look, I’m doing it!” 

You gasp, “Luke, that’s it! Hold it, and bre-”

“Breathe! I know!” Luke’s arms are shaking with the effort to keep the position, but you’re impressed he managed to get it on the first try.

Jace leans over and nudges Luke. Luke topples over with a yelp. “Mom, Jace pushed me!”

You struggle to keep from laughing at the petty squabble. It felt so normal and domestic to see them arguing like siblings back home. “Jace, apologize to your brother.” 

Jace grins, “Sorry Luke. Maybe next time if you breathe better you might not fall.”

Joffrey stumbles over to drop into your lap. You stand, propping him on your hip. “On that note my loves, I will be taking Joffrey to the nursery.” You kiss Jace and Luke on the forehead. “You two go freshen up, I will see you both for breakfast.”

They both give you a hug before disappearing. You turn to leave the balcony and nearly run into someone. “That was quite the sight, issa jorrāelagon,” Rhaenyra says, holding out her hands to steady you and Joffrey. [my love]

“Issa Dāria,” you greet her with a kiss. “Were you spying on us?” [My Queen]

“Me, a spy? Never.” Nyra laughs. “I have people for that.” She ruffles Joffrey’s hair before offering her your arm. You slide your free hand into the crook of her elbow, careful to make sure you had a good grip on Joffrey. “Daemon and I are both aware of your little morning ritual.”

“Oh?”

“How do you think no servants disturb you?” Rhaenyra teases. “Daemon and I take turns watching from the stairwell and keeping the staff away.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “How long have you both known?”

“Since the first time.” 

“Maybe next time you can join,” you say, bumping your shoulder into Nyra’s gently.

“And forfeit the opportunity to watch your as-”

“Child present!” you hiss, interrupting your wife. Nyra laughs, shaking her head. You both walk the rest of the way to the nursery in silence, listening to Joffrey recount his brave efforts to master the Crow Pose. You drop him at the nursery, asking the maids to help him freshen up while you and Rhaenyra check in on little Aegon and Viserys.

“My queen,” you both stand up as a knight rushes into the room with a bow. “My queen, there is something that requires your immediate attention.”

“Whatever is the matter that it cannot wait until the small council meeting?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“There is a woman demanding an audience.”

“I am holding court later today, she can seek an audience then.”

“She claims knowledge of Lady Y/N’s illness.” 

Your gaze snaps to Rhaenyra and you lock eyes. There is a silent understanding before Nyra answers. “Bring her to the small council chambers and send for Daemon.”

You ask the maids to inform the boys of your absence at breakfast and follow Nyra to the small council chambers. “Do you think she really has an answer?”

“I do not wish to raise any of our hopes,” Rhaenyra sighed. 

Nyra stands by the windows, arms crossed as she waits. You pace the chambers. This was highly unusual. Maesters had come from all corners of the realm to offer their ‘wisdom’ and ‘cures’ for your ailment. This was certainly the first time that someone had showed up to demand an audience with the queen herself. The smallfolk and nobles were not privy to your condition. The maesters were summoned under vague direction and sworn to secrecy.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” 

Rhaenyra’s kingsguard stand at attention as the doors open to reveal a woman dressed in white, led by Nyra’s knights. You furrow your brows, unable to get a good glimpse of the woman through her cloak. The woman bows deeply to Rhaenyra, then to you. “Your highness. Lady Y/n.”

“And who might you be?” Rhaenyra asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

The woman nods, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal a curtain of white hair and cloudy white eyes. She looked young, but there was something about her that felt ancient. “I am no one.” She responds. “I carry a message from the gods.”

Rhaenyra scoffs, “you must be joking. You enter my keep, demand an audience, refuse to identify yourself, and claim to be a messenger of the gods?”

“You need not my name, only hear my words.”

“Which gods bade you come here?”

“The same gods you swore your marital oaths before.” Despite her cloudy eyes, the woman seemed to stare into Nyra. 

“What message do you bring? What do you know of my illness?” You ask, desperate for an answer.

“The worlds-walker speaks?” she grins. 

“Y/n,” Nyra warns. 

“Just tell me your message.”

“Your answers lie in the godswood.” The woman reaches into her pocket, and the knights immediately reach for their swords. Rhaenyra raises her hand, silently ordering them to hold. The woman pulls a necklace from her pocket. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask, voice shaking. “That’s the necklace my gra-”

“Your grandmother gave you on your fifteenth name day,” the woman finishes. She steps forward, placing the chain in your hand, clasping her hands over yours. “You must return to your world, worlds-walker.”

“Watch your words witch,” Nyra says coldly, stepping between you and the woman.

“How do you know of my world?” You ignore Rhaenyra, stepping away to face the woman.

“We are all pieces of ourselves.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Words alone will not satisfy you. Go to the godswood, worlds-walker.” 

The doors to the small council chambers fling open as Daemon storms in. The woman in white grins. “The dragons circle today.”

“They will do more than circle if you do not explain yourself,” Rhaenyra growls. “Stop speaking in riddles and tell us what awaits us in the godswood.”

“Answers.”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra doesn’t have to say more than his name before Daemon holds a sword to the woman in white’s throat. “What is in the godswood.”

“Wait!” you put your hand over Daemon’s, trying to pull the sword from the woman’s throat. “What are you doing, she knows what happened to me.”

“The witch speaks in riddles and lies,” Rhaenyra hisses. “Worlds-walkers are a story for children.”

“And dragons are no more than a fairy tale in my world.” You plead. “Please, how did I get here? What is a worlds-walker?”

“Go to the godswood.” The woman in white closes her eyes and pulls her hood up. Everyone in the room gasps as the cloak hits the ground, empty. The woman in white had disappeared, leaving only her cloak behind.

Rhaenyra sighs, “first maesters, and now we are so desperate as to listen to the words of witches?”

“Search the castle for the witch,” Daemon orders the knights.

“My love, I am so sorry for giving you false hope,” Rhaenyra apologizes, pulling you into a side hug. 

You shrug off her hug. “Where is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a glance. “You are not seriously listening to the ramblings of a mad witch?”

“Either take me to the godswood, or I will find it myself.” You clench your necklace tightly. “You still do not believe me? Rhaenyra, she knew who I was, who I really am.”

“You are not a worlds-walker, Y/n!” You flinch slightly as Rhaenyra raises her voice. Her eyes are wide, “My love, I-” Rhaenyra reaches out to grab your hand, but you pull away. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “If it will help us forget this morning, we will visit the godswood.”

“Lead the way.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra walk in front of you in utter silence. Two kingsguard follow the three of you from a distance. Daemon leads the way as you walk through unfamiliar corridors to a garden. The trees sway lightly in the wind, their red leaves dancing.

“This is it?” you ask. “This is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra nods, “we will take you to the heart tree and back. If you do not find your answers here, we will never speak of this again.”

You follow them into the trees. It is eerily quiet in the godswood. The wind makes no noise as it moves through the leaves and branches. No noise of birds chirping or singing. You shiver, hugging your arms to your body to chase away the chill. “Daemon, can I have your cloak?” You look up to see that Daemon and Nyra are gone.

“Daemon?!” You yell. “Rhaenyra?!” There is no response. You turn behind you. The kingsguard are gone as well. “This isn’t funny!”

The hair on your neck stands up, and you whip around to see the woman in white.

“Welcome worlds-walker.”

NOTE: Hey gang! Guess who is finally getting some plot (ya'll). Sorry for the late chapter, I had a Pride parade on Sunday. Please enjoy the SHAMELESS fluff and slice of life before I give you all a very stereotypical vague witch to facilitate the plot. Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed on the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

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[snoopychris]

busy woman

warnings: video sex, masturbation, dirty talk, kinda sub matt, matt's still kind of an ass but not as much, a few sabrina carpenter references

mateo81

free tonight?

cherrychapsdick

depends on the time? 

have to do a live stream at 6:45

mateo81

perfect

u free b4 or after?

cherrychapsdick

both 

free from 4:30-5, 6:15-6:45 and then 7:45 till EOD

mateo81

4:30 works fine for me

you’re a busy woman

cherrychapsdick 

gotta make a living somehow ;) 

mateo81

i’ll see u at 4:30 then :))

matt hopes that the click that came from his phone was silent enough to not disturb the quiet work time the classroom was given. his eyes scan the room for a few moments, noticing the way each person in the room was in their own little bubble of the world. the jocks in the back row near the right were hitting each other and stealing each others things. the more studious girls in the middle row, each listening to some different sort of music. and then there was you. you were isolated in the front row today, the headphones over your ears blasting music loud enough for him to faintly hear. your phone was tightly wrapped around your fingers alongside your pencil. he sighs quietly as he gets back to his own schoolwork, glancing at the professor besides him.

“dr thomas? my mom just texted and she needs me home earlier than expected so i’m gonna head out at 4:15 ish. all of last weeks tests are graded. grades are updated.” matt smiles, jotting down a few more ideas on his paper. he quite enjoyed the professors presence, but he still couldn’t wait to get all of the requirements needed for his masters degree. matt’s eyes go back down to his class work, getting distracted shortly afterwards when someone walks up to the desk. he doesn’t look up instantly, instead deciding to use context clues. the first thing that he uses to determine who’s at the desk is the jangle of the jewelry. the second thing is the dr martens on the feet of the person. the final thing is her voice. your voice. matt’s eyes look up at you, a small scoff leaving his lips. 

“dr thomas… i’m not feeling too good. would you mind if i left early? my works done and turned in.” your voice sounds so sweet. so… spoiled. matt thinks. he bats his eyes at you, a look of shock in his eyes. you failed your last test and you’re asking to leave early? matt didn’t get it. he lets out another scoff as you walk out the door with your professors permission, beginning to pack up himself. he bids his farewell and begins walking go his car in the parking lot, rolling his eyes when he sees you standing next to his vehicle to get into your own. 

“following me, matt?” 

matt shakes his head as you unlock your car, his arms crossing as he leans against his door. “that mercedes on daddy’s car insurance plan?” you swallow as you lick your lips, shaking your head. “no.” matt chuckles as he unlocks his car door, glancing over at you. “you have to take out a loan for it then?” his eyes widen at you, pursing his lips. he knows the answer is no. he also knows, well, he thinks, you’re lying to him about your dad’s involvement in your finances. your eyes scan his tattoo covered arms up and down, pursing your lips. “you pay for all those yourself?” “well no. when i was younger my mom helped pay for so-“ “hypocrite.” matt scoffs when you shut your car door on him mid-conversation, speeding off like you had somewhere to be. he had completely forgotten that he had somewhere to be. 

matt had never driven faster in his life. he drove like there were no other cars on the road. it probably wasnt healthy that he was doing all of this for a camgirl. it had to be a level of whipped that had been undiscovered by most men. his entire ride home is spent with nothing but thoughts of you, even if he didnt know it was you. he thought of the way he had joined each of your live streams in the past week, sometimes spending more than 20 dollars just to compliment your lingerie or to tell you to move your fingers a little bit faster. he hadnt even realized how much of his brain you had been taking up, but it was nearly all of it. at some point or another during his drive home, matt had grown painfully hard. as he puts his car in park in the garage of his apartment complex. the tote bag he uses as a backpack was thrown over his shoulder for a moment, but matt decides it would be best to hold it over his crotch, just until he gets inside. Matt’s legs move quicker than he intended them to, and he groans in frustration when its 4:31 and the elevator is still going painfully slow. when he finally reaches his floor, he borderline sprints to his door, kicking off his shoes and taking off his sweater. its quickly tossed to the side and discarded, and its 4:34 by the time he actually opens his laptop. he hopes that he’s not too late.

mateo81

hi sorry, computer died ://

cherrychapsdick

perfect timing omg 

my last one on one went late

mateo81

busy busy

cherrychapsdick

*sent a link* 

here’s the zoom

u can join anonymously if youd like :)

an exhale that matt didnt know he was holding in leaves his throat when you sent the link. he clicks it gently, making sure of two things when he does. first, he makes sure hes on incognito mode so that it doesnt show his email or anything of the sorts. the second thing he does is make sure his camera and microphone are off. when he fully joins the call, his breath hitches in the back of his throat. youre wearing a light blue set. he had never seen it before. he had even gone back one day and scrolled through all of your saved streams  and it wasnt in any of them. he goes to type a message in the chat but youre already speaking by the time his pointer is hovering over the text box. “hi mateo.” fuck.

your voice was as smooth as silk, if not smoother. “sorry i was late… my last guy took foreverrrr. can you imagine that? im dolled up all pretty and he didnt even finish.” even though he couldnt see your face, matt knew you were pouting. his fingers hover over his laptops keyboard for a moment before he begins typing, watching as youre toying with the hem of your panties. couldnt imagine that, not in a million years. I was late too, class ran late. Matt doesnt even realize what he was typing until it was already sent. he knows the chance of you knowing him is extremely slim. there was 8.1 billion people on planet earth, there was no way he would be recognizable enough to you based on the mention of a class. this subsides the anxiousness coursing through matt, palming at himself through his sweatpants. 

“you in school? college i hope… you smart? I bet you are. bet youre the top of your class. bet youre always so well-behaved… just like you are for me.” matt swallows, nodding rapidly even though you cant see him. he feels awkward only staring at you and you not seeing anything but a black screen. his fingers move faster than his brain does, typing and sending another message. can i turn my camera on? you giggle as you reach besides you to your bedside table, grabbing your skin toned dildo and holding it close to your body. “if you really want to. im not gonna force you. if you only wanna show your bottom half like be thats okay too.” matt licks his lip as he looks around the room, grabbing a long sleeved tshirt. it’s just to cover his tattoos. to subdue his fear of getting caught.

once his shirt is on and his pants are off, he positions his camera for you to see him— part of him. the part of him he’s probably the most proud of. there’s a faint click in his bedroom, and then he’s on screen. you giggle on the other side, bringing out a self consciousness in matt that he didn’t know he had. “well well well… look at you hm? y’tellin me you walk around with that thing all day?” matt bites his lip as he gives a thumbs up, groaning as he does so— why did he even do that? you giggle once more, rubbing the silicone in your hand over your clit. “well… if it helps. i’d much rather have that than this. if you wanna keep givin thumbs up… i’ll let ya.” 

matt lets out a small whimper as he begins stroking himself to your words, quietly hoping that his body language is enough. he bites his lip as he uses his free hand to type another message to  you, watching as the silicone dick slides between your legs, your underwear still on. he’s so visibly hard that it makes you almost feel bad. “all that for me?” matt holds up his thumb again, a groan exiting his lips. when you slip your panties to the side and slide down onto the silicone toy, matt just about loses it. his hand begins moving faster than he wanted it to, but he doesn’t mind. you just look so pretty bouncing like that. “wish it was you… fuck wish it was you! bet you’d… fill me up so good. so so good. mhm… holy shit.” matt’s mouth drops wide open at your words, precum leaking all around his tip. 

your eyes— even though he can’t see them— haven’t left his throbbing member since you laid eyes on it. some of the people you usually do this with are just older men who haven’t gotten it up properly in years. something about this one is different. there’s a sense of familiarity within the call. your lip is being held tightly between your teeth as your movements start to teeter, slowing down while looking at matt. “d-do you want me to cum for you, sweet boy? i can hold it if you want. make the 30 minutes you’re paying for last all 30.” matt groans at your words once more, spreading the precum over his tip. 

no. please. don’t wanna hold you back. matt’s message in the chat is clear to you, and you take it as permission to let the feeling wash over you. your cum begins to coat the dildo you were riding, the creamy white substance becoming clearer as its spread all around. “mmmmph!” you yelp, throwing your head back onto the pillow, giving matt a much clearer view at your pussy. your face remains out of sight, as does matt’s when his spurts of cum begin to coat his webcam. his eyes are tightly squeezed shut, opening them to watch you ride out your orgasm. you sit back up on your bed, sliding out the toy and tossing it to the side. “oh look at you… came all over your camera like a good boy. really had fun today. i’m sorry i didn’t make it last longer… just got really worked up i guess.” 

the pout on matt’s face is there. he wishes you could see it, but he just opts to send another message in chat. you do a lot of stuff in 15 minutes. never really came that fast before. u got a gift or sum. his typing was never this unprofessional, but he still wants to make sure there’s no evidence of matt being, well, matt. “oh well thank you. i’ll see you another time okay? oh! oh my gosh i didn’t even mention the pay. um… i should’ve before we even started. usually it’s 50 for a first time one on one. then next time it would be 60 cause like a dollar per minute. you know usually… um. because i was late and we didn’t do the whole thirty minutes just… 40… is fine… my cashapp is in my account. you text me and keep me updated okay? i’ll see you another time.” matt smiles to himself as you speak so sweetly to him, leaving the call to clean himself off. it doesn’t take him very long, but by the time he’s done, he’s gotten a few texts from his brothers asking if he wants to go out. a new bar opening or something. he hesitantly agrees, throwing himself back on the bed for a few minutes before getting ready for the night. 

the hours ticked by slowly for you, the only source of pleasure and enjoyment being long gone after your call with mateo. you wondered where he was right now and how he was doing. it was unusual. you hadn’t ever really gotten attached to any clients before. you’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock on your door, standing up and looking at your roommate on the other side. “cmon cammy i need you to come with me! how am i ever gonna pull girls if there’s nobody there to distract the hot guys? hm? what’s the point of having a hot roommate if she isn’t gonna put her tools to good use!” you giggle at his words, looking back at your bed. “give me 15 minutes. i’ll be ready. can we go to that new place on hill street?” you smile, shutting the door in his face. the getting ready process doesn’t take you long, already having been slightly glammed up for some of your clients who paid more to see your face. you glance down at your lingerie set, grabbing a matching blue top from your closet— one that’s just slightly more bar appropriate. you let out a small huff as you grab your bag, walking back into the kitchen. “let’s go then.”

the bar is more packed than you or matt could’ve expected. neither of you really wanted to be here. matt would much rather be in his apartment watching tv while he watched sonic run around the living room like he usually would on fridays. crazy enough, you would rather be camming right now. you lick your lips slightly as you flirt your way into another drink, smiling at the unlucky gentleman and walking back onto the dance floor. at some point along the way, you bump into an unknown figure, groaning when it’s just matt. “what are you doing at a college bar?” he asks, his voice cocky as ever. “i’m a college student. what are you doing at a college bar? trying to pick up a younger girl or something?” you quip back, rolling your eyes. matt can’t help but notice the way your blue top looks familiar.

he’s seen the color before, but never the top itself. matt swallows slightly as he realizes he forgot to pay earlier, shaking his head at your question. “no… just here with my brothers. stay safe tonight okay? it’s new and dangerous out here.” he whispers, pushing away from you. you furrow your brows at his word, making your way over to talk to your roommate. “tucker i think our teachers assistant got laid.” you mumble, taking a sip from your espresso martini. tucker chuckles as he takes a swig of his beer, waiting for further explanation. “he was… actually nice to me for once.” 

the conversation begins to flow, both on your side of the bar and matt’s. matt can’t stop thinking about the color you were wearing. he feels the guilt eating him alive. he can’t believe he didn’t pay cherry earlier. there’s a point when chris is deep in conversation with nick that matt uses as an excuse to pull out his phone. he quickly opens cashapp, sending the money to the username he’s become so used to lately. You sent $40 to cherrychapsdick! 

on the other side of the bar, nearly at the exact same time, you felt your phone buzz in your skirts pocket. you pull it out for just a moment, smiling at the notification. mateo81 sent you $40! 

a/n: not to sound like an ao3 writer but my apologies for not writing/uploading anything... i got into a car crash and then midterms beat my ass. anyway!!!! also like... support ur writers by reblogging and commenting! but i wont force u. but also i love reading reblogs and comments.

tags (reply or comment to be added but it may be full soon i dont remember. im not a professional) @mattsstarlet @oopsiedaisydeer @marrykisskilled @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @cykss @throatgoat4u @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @jetaimevous @muwapsturniolo @sturnsrecord @13hoax @whore4mattsturniolo @sophsturns @chrissweetheart @cl1tlover3000 @applecidersturniolo @babytrapsosa @backwardshatnick @camzeecorner @leoslaboratory @princesspeach0-0 @sturniolosrtewsexy @mattswifeyy

divider creds to @bernardsbendystraws !