#I can’t have it in my house and if I can get it to them I want to

[angelsforthenight]

screen babe, mean babe, guess who’s gonna cream babe! (pt 2)

camgirl!vi x reader (read pt 1 here)

summary: after an abysmal night, you know who PinkSage really is. you want to loathe her, yet you can’t seem to escape vi’s agonising game, especially underneath the guttural heat of your city’s sun.

pre a/n: yaaawl if ur expecting smut in this chapter then i’m sorry but not yet 🙁🙁 i want to drag s.m.g out longer than i did with my last ellie series so you’re gonna have to wait until the next chapter. sometimes a slow burn can be so much better and worth it in the end, i promise! hope you guys still enjoy <3

content: AAAANGST, vi is really mean, very slight slut-shaming, cursing, crying, playful!vi, teasing! this entire chapter is a huge tease, vi is extroverted, difficult goddamn lesbians, some painful yearning, some cute moments, vi’s got one point up in this chap but we’ll see how that’ll go…

“i know who you are.”

your eyes persist in hers: as if trying to burrow yourself inside them and make yourself known.

vi, irritated as is, raises her brows and shakes her head; urging for you to elaborate. you have no idea where your boldness came from, but you find yourself continuing.

“PinkSage. y-you’re PinkSage, i watch you all the time i—“ vi’s face does a whole u-turn, the colour draining from her face.

“hold on, shut the fucking door first!” she hisses frantically. you flinch into obeying her. when you turn back around, your heart sinks at the disgusted look on vi’s face. maybe you hadn’t thought this one through.

“the fuck were you thinking? saying that shit whilst your parents are sleeping right there?” she whisper-scolds, storming towards you. you back away until you’re up against your door. yeah… what exactly were you thinking was going to happen? for your favourite cam-girl to immediately get on her knees and start eating you out? of course this moment hadn’t gone as you expected.

“huh? you just gonna stand there like a dumbass after revealing that shit? you of all people?” vi continues, her voice raising. she’s so enraged! as if it’s your fault that the woman you’re supposed to idolise happened to stay in your house. it’s only a fucked-up coincidence. your lips quiver as you find your voice.

“you— you’re being too loud.” are the only words that you can think of to say. vi stares at you in disbelief.

“… my parents are sleeping after all, right?” you mutter, looking away. vi is scowling so much she may as well pop a vein.

“hah. you’re a sick fucking freak.” she laughs dryly, shaking her head incredulously. though your gaze flicks up to her; bewildered and hurt, you’re not just going to let her talk down on you like this. not when what vi does is worse.

“you spread your legs for, like, a million pervs online. i don’t think you have the right to talk.” you snap whilst your voice trembles. here’s to thinking the world of PinkSage…

“pervs including your dull ass.” vi scoffs.

“watch your mouth, unless you’d like to sleep in the streets.”

“oh yeah? and what would you explain to your parents?” vi’s lips twitch into a grin, “mommy, daddy! kick vi out because i jerk off to her online but she’s being mean to me in real life!” she mocks, her voice lilting into a higher-pitched tone. your instinct is to push her in order to shut her mouth. vi only stumbles a little, but she glares at you as if you’ve thrown tomato juice all over her white top.

“fuck you.” you’re about to leave until something comes over you, feeling compelled to say one last thing. let her sit with this shit.

“and for your information, last time you streamed? you orgasmed to my name. your_user? yeah, that was me.”

you relish in the way vi’s expression mellows into one of astonishment. she’s dumbfounded and silent.

“sleep with that, bitch.” you spit, hastily slipping back to your room. you would’ve slammed the door if it wasn’t going to wake your parents up. your mother sleeps with one eye open and any noise would have her rising from her bed as if she’s a vampire.

once you make it back to your room, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. you’re trembling: entire body buzzing from head to toe with adrenaline and fury.

two steps closer to your bed and you feel a glob of tears swell in your throat, shooting up to your eyes. they are quick to rivulet down your cheeks like a torrent, and you intake a shuddering breath, coated with phlegm. afraid of vi hearing you next door, you immediately cover your mouth.

you jump into your bed, too arrogant to admit that the reason why you’re sobbing in your pillow is because you’re upset. you’re fucking pissed is what you are, embarrassed that you even said anything — and that vi had the gall to respond like that. whereas a week ago you would’ve praised PinkSage as if she were a saint, you’re sitting here wondering who the fuck this woman thinks she is.

of course famous people are dickheads in real life. you should’ve expected this. you fiercely wipe your tears, yanking your covers over your head. at least you were able to have the last word. you think about the look on her face, hoping she feels just as stupid as you do.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

it’s the morning that’s downright awful. you woke up too early, and now you’re forced out of your will to sit with your family and vi to eat breakfast.

your parents are trying so hard to impress her and you hate it. they’ve even gone the extra length of setting a table in your backyard, spread neatly over the stone ground. you don’t remember there being this much food in your house, let alone the gingham cloth fanned over the table. as if this breakfast is a special occasion. they must think vi is a goddamn prodigy! they find it to be groundbreaking how can she be oh so sweet volunteering for animals and taking care of them, and how she works out a lot and that tattoo on her face…

you chew your food slowly, glaring daggers at her as she compliments your mother’s cooking with her mouth full. meanwhile you would’ve gotten scolded for doing that! you’re being petty and stifling: insanely moody in this delicate summer morning. how could you not? you were in tears because of her audacity last night!

you bet if your parents found out what vi really does, your dad wouldn’t suggest playing basketball with her, and your mother wouldn’t be asking her all these stupid, prodding questions. ones like, “vi, do you have a boyfriend? o-or a girlfriend! if that’s what you prefer?”

you two make eye contact then. a split second, but it was palpable like an electric current zipping up your spine. you’re the first to look away; suddenly interested in swirling your fried egg around, smearing the yolk.

“nah. not interested in that stuff.” she replies dismissively, cool as a cucumber, because everything about her is cool! peachy! you prick your bacon with your fork hard, bringing it up to your lips as you flicker a glance at vi once more. since she’s not paying attention anymore, your eyes decide to fixate on the slope of her nose, shimmering from the light mixed with shadows that are dancing from the leaves above.

vi mutters something indignantly to your father, something you don’t hear because she suddenly steps on your foot under the table. hard. you accidentally let out a gasp that’s a little too loud, obliging everyone else to stop what they’re doing to glance up at you. they definitely forgot that you were even here. you glare at vi, who’s looking away as if she hadn’t just done that on purpose. are we suddenly little kids now? did she wake up completely overturned? ready to be an upbeat ray of sunshine after rudely shutting you down last night?

“everything okay?” dad raises a brow. vi only pretends to be curious, furrowing her brows and pouting, a faint jeering expression for your eyes only. what is she trying to play at? this isn’t just mere playfulness. this is something else.

“yeah, fine.” you murmur. you’re ready to push your chair back and leave until you hear your mother.

“oh, y/n can take you. she knows her way around the area better than any of us.” you freeze.

“what?” you brow quirks into a look of foul disdain. especially because vi looks like a grinning dog at your mother’s suggestion.

“you guys can even take the bikes!” dad chimes in enthusiastically. you want the skies above to open up and take you away. right here, right now.

“but—“

“i would love to go with you.” vi beams. that wretched look on her face, full of mischief and lies. the sun on her face isn’t exactly helping either. it’s all a cruel taunt: the way it kisses her face, the way it highlights her plush lips curved into that sweet, deceitful smile. she could be the sun herself… if she wasn’t so obnoxious. yet you find yourself relenting, giving a speck of yourself away to the woman who gets under your skin. you force yourself to stare at the wooden ridges of the table instead of the sunlight dancing on vi’s features.

“…fine. where to?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

the lazy july sun is beating down on you mercilessly. vi’s wearing a baseball cap, but you? you were too pissed off and stubborn to listen to your mother’s advice on wearing a hat. so now you’re suffering.

you’re steering down the tree-lined dirt track with your bike. though it’s so damn hot, you really do appreciate the beauty that summer brings along: how everything appears so bright and awake. you won’t pretend that it can’t be suffocating however, especially when you have a certain pink-haired someone riding a bike behind you, distinctly aware of her eyes boring down your back.

vi slightly quickens so she’s right beside you, you side-eye her.

“who says that theres space for the both of us?” your words may as well have a double meaning. vi grins. there is actually enough space, you just don’t want her next to you.

“i did. you’re so sweaty you’re glowing by the way.”

“aw, thank you.” you sneer at her before picking up the pace.

“hey, wait! i was fucking around!” she chuckles, following you down the road.

you guys ride until you’re in the city: bustling with people and markets. mothers are dragging their screaming kids, men are oozing with sweat; grumbling as they push past people. you’re jealous of those passing by that are able to fan their faces. vi parks her bike, but you don’t.

“well, it has been lovely escorting you.” you mutter sarcastically, gripping the handlebars.

“what? you’re not staying? what makes you think i know my way around?” vi counters. she looks so puzzled, like a puppy. you swallow, seeming to crumble just a little more when you look at her face for too long.

“um, i didn’t know you wanted a tour… but fine.”

you two walk along the markets. vi has quite some time before she’s called in for work so she wanted to familiarise herself with the city beforehand. at first, you guys hardly talk, simply following vi as she wanders about instead: watching as her eyes glint at the vintage trinkets and antiques they sell in stalls.

you feel like a clamshell stalling quietly behind her, as she eagerly chats with quite literally anyone. she’s so extroverted! it’s begrudgingly interesting watching her communicate, her delivery of words smooth and clear, making anyone hang onto her words like rope.

there’s too many people in this narrow path, and too much pushing. you don’t want to lose yourself in the crowd, so you helplessly tug on vi’s sleeve. vi glances back.

“you good?” she keeps walking with you continuing to use her sleeve as leverage. it’d be a mess if you guys were to randomly stop now, with this sea of people that have clearly got places to be.

“yeah, i just don’t wanna lose you.” you reply, realising too late how weird that just sounded. vi, jovial as she already has been, only smiles wider. you quickly back-pedal.

“m-my parents would kill me if i were to lose our guest, you know?”

“here.” you all but expected for vi to lace her fingers into yours, holding your hand as you continue to slink through the masses of people. why is she being like this? was last night completely erased from her head, or does she just not care that much? you stare at the back of her head, as if that’ll give you answers. you secretly enjoy the warmth of her hand, subtly pressing your palm further into hers. vi doesn’t notice. good.

you guys find yourself in a music shop. this, after all the other markets and shops you’ve visited, finally has captured your keen interest. you come here all the time, the main source of all your cds in your room.

your eyes sparkle when your fingers stumble across one you’ve always wanted. limited edition, and it has a holographic cover too! how sick is that?

however, the excitement quickly fades when you remember that because you were stuck in your cloud of fitful anger, you ended up forgetting your wallet at home. you palm your pockets, making sure it miraculously doesn’t just so happen to be there… but nope. nothing.

“boo.” you feel the hotness of her mouth hard by your ear before you even register anything else. you squirm away, glowering at her only to be met with a cheeky smile back. vi’s already got a whole bag of stuff! how nice that must be.

“you gonna buy that?” vi points her gaze at the cd in your hands. you slot it back in the genre section. “i don’t have money, left it at home.” you mumble.

vi snorts, “you’re a real smart one, ain’t ya?”

“shut up. go pay for that and i’ll wait outside.” you grumble, practically storming out the door. you’ve never met anyone quite like vi. she’s so playful, and stupid and sweet, hot and mean all at the same time: getting under your skin in the worst way imaginable. the memory of PinkSage feels like it’s slipping from your fingers like sand.

vi comes back a moment later, smacking a cd down in your hands and walking ahead like nothing happened. you stare at her confusedly, but your eyebrows quickly rest in realisation as you gaze down at the cd. it’s the same one you wanted. your stomach betrays you by fluttering and then churning intensely.

“hey.” you call out, making vi stop.

“what’s your deal? why’d you buy this for me?” you grip the cd, heart beating like a live wire. vi turns around and walks closer to you. branches are singing from the breeze, seagulls are cawing, but you can’t hear anything. not when your full focus is on her. not when she’s walking so close it’s as if she’s going to step right through you.

“‘cause i saw how much you wanted it. you were gleaming.” she shrugs. how casual she must be, whilst your heart is pounding to the rhythm of her syllables. vi-o-let. why must you treat me this way?

“it’s no big deal.” she stares at you blankly up and down. you point your view downwards, focusing on the ladybug that’s started to crawl on your shoe. a kind respite from vi’s torturous gaze.

“why… why are you being so nice? after wh-what happened last night?” curse your sudden nervousness.

vi might as well close the gap between the pair of you, gentle fingers tilting your chin up to direct your gaze on her. oh, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

“because you’re my biggest fan.” vi stretches out her words, soft and punishing. this godforsaken woman… you could quite literally die on her feet. your brain short-circuits and then switches off. especially when you witness vi’s gaze flickering to your lips. your breathing quickens, and it feels like your body isn’t yours anymore. you may as well be a floating bubble.

until vi takes her hat off and puts it on your head instead, patting it. “come on, let’s skedaddle. you don’t think our bikes got stolen, do you?” she jogs ahead, whilst you stand here like a dumbass, the cd lying limply in your hands.

this is a brutal penance worser than last night. vi did that on purpose, to see your reaction, and now that she’s got her fill, she’s going back to pretending as if nothing happened. how unsparing. how cruel.

you force yourself to drag your feet, one feet after the other towards vi. your head is lagging behind, still stuck on her touch.

a/n: some of u might hate me for this 😅😅👅👅👅 but oh my god u guys are in a DOOZY for chapter three i’m literally trembling thinking about writing it ughhhfhdhhd once again lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist but also some of u guys need to check that ur mentions are on or else i can’t tag! :< anywhooo sorry that this chapter was a little shorter but did anyone else clock the cmbyn tea…

taglist: @marvelwomenarehot0 @ghgygd @jupitism @reneesub @cotrill09 @itzsky82 @elliesbabygirl @adora-moonshine @maxinephobia @ch3sire-blu3 @krilara @perrzs @thankynext @zaunite-516 @eren-luvr @cpt-prices-leftnipple @goticapomposa @lolitalovess @moonchildcovenxx @spicedcherrylolli @mystar-girl57 @mar1posita @avonnimimi @kirajess @caitvisgirl @heyy-lovey @antobooh @jajsnjz @beachaddict48 @aceywaycy @sleepingwasp @elliezlils11utt @vincinnamontoast @runawaybaby3 @h0n3yf0rlif3 @iluvwomensm

[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

[kxtsukixoxo]

i am curious at to what you think bakugou would do if his parents didnt directly approve of his gf, i mean everyone always says that mitsuki would LOVE his gf directly but i dont think it's always that easy imo

˚.🎀༘⋆ a mothers heart. ft ; katsuki bakugou

i love love love the dynamic that mitsuki would welcome his gf with open arms, but i also believe that mitsuki is protective over her baby boy. (*´˘`*)

katsuki would have to really LOVE you in order to fight for you, he seems really reserved when it comes to his parents, it’d take him awhile to finally budge and bring you home. despite his hasty comments about mitsuki, and the frequent name calling, i’d like to think katsuki really values her opinions and takes it into account, no matter the situation. after all, mitsuki is his mother.  

you were excited, of course, but also anxious. you’re finally meeting your boyfriends parents after nine whole months of dating, katsuki wasn’t a soft lover, he radiated tough love, he didn’t love like a puppy, rather like a tiger with her pups, rough but somehow gently balanced, you figured he’d have to take after one of his parents, this would be a trip to hell. he didn’t like the idea of his parents meeting you, he hated getting them involved in his own business, but he came to the decision that you had to meet them, if things were getting this serious, and he needed his parents approval. 

after dropping you off and making sure you were safe, katsuki stopped by his parents house once again, tension filled the air as they resided in the living room. pin drop silence remained in the room, as mitsuki crossed her arms and tapped her manicured nails against her elbow, her words echoed in the room as katsuki looked at her with shock, “we need time to think”, masaru’s eyebrows furrowed, as he looked at katsuki with nothing but guilt, “what the fuck is there t’think about it! don’t give me that fuckn’ look” he grunted out as he got up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he headed towards the door, just before he could turn the knob,

“you need to understand kats…we can’t just give you away to anybody.” masaru spoke, “we took care of you and made you the man you are today” he squeezed his wife’s shoulder as she took a seat next to him, mitsuki’s lips parted as she readied herself to speak, there was no denying she was protective over her son, who wouldn’t be? especially after all he’s been through. “we respect that you seeked our approval, and all we’re asking for is time to think about her, she’s sweet kats…but can she handle you?” 

katsuki’s arms dropped to his side, his mothers words echoed like live wire, 

this entire time, this wasn’t about you. 

this was about him, his outbursts, his rough nature. his aggressiveness. 

mitsuki worried that no woman would ever be able to love katsuki, but she was entirely wrong. you accepted katsuki, scars and all. 

“you don’t know her…take your time to think or fuckn’ whatever. but please…don’t take this away from me” he clenched his fists as he turned around to twist the knob, “i..love her.” 

©️ 2025 kxtsukixoxo  all rights reserved. do not modify, repost or claim my work as yours if you wish to use my png please credit. me.

[lauraschiller]

When I was seven years old, I found a room that exists outside of time.

It was shortly after my parents died - I’d rather not talk about that, if you don’t mind - and their friends Rudy and Kirsten took me in. They had asked me to think of them and their three children as family, but I couldn’t quite manage it yet. They were good people and they did their best, but sometimes I just couldn’t stand the noises in that house. 

It felt especially loud to me that day; my ears still ring just thinking about it. I wandered from one corner of the house to the other, my orange plush cat and a tattered paperback copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe clutched in my arms, looking for somewhere - anywhere - quiet. 

I couldn’t read in my own room because I shared it with Melissa, and she was practicing on the piano. If you think that sounds soothing, you’ve never heard the same fumbled chord over and over on a tinny electric keyboard. I stood by the door for a while anyway, curious about what the piece would sound like if she got it right. She looked up, lifted her purple-polished nails off the keys, and frowned. “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate!”

So was I, but I shuffled off down the hallway without a word.

In the living room downstairs, Frank and Josh were sprawled on the couch in their sweatpants and sports jerseys, playing a video game. Virtual gunfire shook the floor. Blood splattered across the screen. I flinched. They laughed.

“Scaredy-cat!” Frank sneered after me as I ran.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Josh said. “She’s just a kid.”

I could hear them bickering and shoving as I ducked into the kitchen.

“Boys!” Kirsten called through the door. “Can you please kill each other more quietly?”

They turned down the volume by a few decibels, but kept playing.

She was standing at the counter, chopping a carrot. I must have seen her that way hundreds of times, with her green-and-yellow-striped apron on and her hair - it was still blonde then - falling out of its clip. She put down her knife and pushed the flyaway strands out of her face. “Did you need something, dear?”

“I … uh … ”

“Looking for a place to read?” She smiled down at the book and toy I was holding.

“I … can’t,” I said. My throat was tight. “There isn’t anywhere.”

“In an old house like this, there’s always somewhere.” She cupped my cheek with a hand still wet from washing vegetables and kissed me on the forehead. I usually avoid being touched, not because I don’t like it, but because the feeling tends to linger for a long time. “This is your home. I hope you know that.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat growing tighter. 

She scraped all the carrots into the blender and switched it on. The sound of that machine, a shrill roar that rattled my teeth all the way to the back of my head, made conversation impossible. I fled back upstairs.

Kirsten was right; the house was old. It was a modest red brick split-level, the kind we used to see more of in this neighborhood before they got crowded out by these giant cubes made of glass and concrete. The floorboards creaked. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling in a few places, forming patterns like spiderwebs. Wind and rain rattled the window panes. I walked in circles, opening and closing the same doors over and over, re-memorizing the layout - bathroom here, linen closet there - as if my life depended on it. I could still hear all the noises of the house - the blender, Melissa’s keyboard, the boys’ shooter game, the constant hum of the fridge and heater, the driving rain outside - jangling wildly in my ears. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to get away. 

I grabbed the nearest doorknob, hurled myself through and shut it behind me.

The noises stopped.

My skin tingled.

I was standing in a room I had never seen before, a room I knew at once was somehow different from every other part of the house, even before I could define it. Besides the quiet, the difference was in the light. While the rain had turned the light everywhere else a washed-out gray, here it was the warm gold of an afternoon just before sunset. It flickered through the branches of the maple tree growing beside the house, making leaf-shadows dance on the walls. I was almost a little surprised to see that maple. To my seven-year-old mind, it would have been just as logical for the window to open on a whole other world.

In other respects, it seemed like an ordinary room. Two armchairs stood on either side of the window, their indigo upholstery faded from the sun like a favorite pair of jeans. A little table stood between them with a cloth draped over it, deep blue like the chairs, printed with an intricate pattern of white vines and flowers. Shelves lined the walls, holding books, magazines, little ornaments (including a teddy bear with oatmeal-colored fur, a pair of ceramic dancers in white wigs and ruffles, and an unlit candle beside a black-and-white photograph of people I didn’t know), and a turntable complete with a row of vinyl records ...

It was all so much like home, I could barely breathe.

That tablecloth was my mother’s, made by the grandmother I was named for, with a method called Blaudruck or blue-dyeing that was centuries old. As a child, you take these things for granted - I’d never even asked what had happened to all these things - but now I walked around the table examining it from all angles, smoothed the creases, traced the swirling leaves and petals with my fingertip, and even leaned down to sniff it. It smelled like the lavender sachets my mother used to keep in her closet. 

The records were my father’s. He had trusted me to handle them, even at my age. He had shown me how to slide them carefully out of their cardboard sleeves; to touch only the edges and the center, never the surface; to wipe off any fingerprints with a soft cloth. On that day, however, I didn’t play any of them; it was enough just to flick through them, to look at the cover art - a rainbow arcing through a black triangle; a little green dragon perched on the moon - and puzzle over the mysterious grown-up lyrics printed on the back of the sleeves. 

I don’t know how long I stayed in that room. I only know I never stopped to think about the time, which is the surest sign of being happy. I curled up in one of the armchairs to read my book and pet my plush cat until I could have sworn he purred.

/

“So, what have you all been up to?” Rudy asked across the dinner table that evening, as he always did when he came home from the office.

That question used to make me fidget every time I heard it. When he surveyed us from under his peaked black eyebrows, frown lines carved into his face, I always suspected him of suspecting us of some kind of trouble. It took me years to figure out that this was only his awkward way of making conversation. 

Kirsten, who was used to him, grumbled good-naturedly about the challenges of knitting stripes, which reminded Melissa of how tricky her new piano piece was, which reminded the boys of the new game level they had reached (complete with arguments about who had played it better). I was only half listening, relieved to have their attention off me as I waited for my hot soup to cool down to edible.

“What about you, Hertha? How are you spending your summer vacation so far?” 

My spoon splashed into the soup.

“Reading? Drawing? Watching movies?” Rudy was an unstoppable list-maker. He would fire off options one after another until I chose one, and if I didn’t choose quickly enough, possibly start from the beginning. I waited for what I felt was a suitable pause between words - I’d been reminded often enough that it was rude to interrupt, although how to avoid interrupting people who talked this much was a different matter - took a deep breath, and dived in like a cartoon burglar through a laser grid.

“I was in the other living room,” I said. “Reading. With Leo.” (Leo was the name of my plush cat.)

Rudy’s frown lines deepened. “Other living room?”

“The … the one upstairs,” I faltered. “With the record player.”

“There’s no living room upstairs,” he said. “Just your bedrooms and the linen cupboard. And what record player?” 

“But I really was there!” I blurted out. “It’s not like anywhere else in the house. It was sunny there and … and it smelled like our old house.”

I could pinpoint the exact moment when he decided not to believe me. He gave me the same shaky smile I’d seen from all the guests at my parents’ funeral, the one that said he felt sorry for me, but had absolutely no idea how to help. 

“Oh, that’s … that’s nice,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “That sounds beautiful.”

“Upstairs? Like what, the cupboard?” whispered one of the children. I was staring down into the thick orange gloop that was my dinner, though, and didn’t look up to see who it was. “She was pretending in the cupboard?”

“I knew she was weird. Even before - ”

“Shut up!”

“Kids, stop it.” Kirsten’s clear voice cut through the whispers like a knife. “Remember what we talked about before. If Hertha needs her personal space, then we give it to her. Without judging her. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” they chorused.

I didn’t want them to give me space, only to believe me. But if there was one thing I took away from that conversation, it was this: I should never talk about the other living room again.

A short time later, when Kirsten asked me about it in a smiling, casual way - “So, how was the upstairs living room? Everything comfortable?” - I assumed that she was only humoring me, and gave her the coldest look my seven-year-old eyes could muster.

“I don’t play that game anymore,” I informed her.

She looked at me with something like sadness, but then shrugged and let the subject drop.

/

It was about forty years later that I came back for Kirsten’s funeral.

After the reading of the will, we all somehow found ourselves back at the house, drinking iced tea in the living room as stiffly and formally as if we’d never sprawled on the sofa, read all night in the armchair, or watched cartoons on the old TV that no longer worked. Melissa wore a sleek black dress and a hat with a spotted veil. Frank and Josh wore their best black suits. I wore the only black dress I owned, an old polyester number that itched and clung after our sweltering car ride from the lawyer’s office. Rudy wasn’t there - he had passed away a few years earlier - but someone had lit a candle beside his picture on the fireplace mantel. It felt like his funeral all over again, as well as his wife’s, which in a way it was. 

“So,” said Melissa, stirring the ice cubes in her glass with a sharp clatter. “Did any of you have any idea that Mom would do this?”

“Nope,” and “Not me,” said the men. 

All three of them turned to look at me.

“I … didn’t know either.” I had to cough twice before my scratchy voice would work. “I didn’t know she’d leave this house to me. I never … I never asked her to.”

“Of course not.” Her smile was brittle. “I didn’t think you did. I mean, you’re not exactly the domestic type. What would you want with a whole house? ”

“To live in it, maybe?” Josh suggested, raising his head from where he leaned tiredly against his corner of the sofa. 

“I’m just saying.” She waved her hand in the air to indicate all the space in this room. “It’s too big for a single person. Some of us have families - ”

“Mel,” Josh protested.

“Sorry, Hertha. You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not like I begrudge her anything,” she said, turning to Josh. “It’s just - ”

“If you ask me,” Frank chimed in, although no one had actually asked him, “The most logical thing to do would be to sell it.” Melissa relaxed into the cushions and nodded, as if she’d been about to suggest the same thing. “The value of this place has gone up through the roof since Mom and Dad bought it. If we sell it and divide the proceeds between the four of us, it would only be fair, don’t you think?”

“It’s your decision, Hertha,” said Josh, meeting my eyes point-blank. “What do you want to do?”

I had no idea - or rather, I had far too many at once.

Frank was right, but why did he sound so wrong to me? I couldn’t bear to leave this house, but how was I supposed to look after it? What if something broke and I couldn’t afford the repairs? My job at the time let me work remotely, but didn’t pay much. I’d been bouncing from one shabby rental apartment to another, where the landlord took care of problems and if they didn’t, I could just move. I was completely unprepared to be a homeowner. I’d run it into the ground. If Rudy were here, he’d probably agree. I could almost hear him calculating how much the house would fetch on today’s real estate market, but would that be because it was the logical solution, or because I wasn’t really his daughter? Even if I could keep the house, would the others ever forgive me for taking what should have been theirs?

What would Kirsten say if she were here? What would my parents say? 

All these thoughts went boiling up inside my head like lava in a volcano, then erupted in tears. I barely had time to mutter “Excuse me, I need a moment,” before running upstairs, so that these three logical adults wouldn’t see me disgrace my forty-seven years by crying.

Half blind with tears, I reached for the bathroom door so I could sob myself out and wash my face. I thought I saw two doors in the wall instead of one, but that had to be my eyes playing tricks on me. 

I thought of the magical room I used to daydream about as a child. If ever I needed a place like that, it would be now, but surely it couldn’t be real. Still, I missed it more than I had ever missed anything in my life.

If only it were real … 

I stumbled through the door.

This was not the bathroom.

The other living room hadn’t changed a bit from what I’d imagined - no, remembered. My mother’s indigo tablecloth was still draped over the table. My father’s records still leaned in a row next to the player. The two armchairs looked as cozy as they ever had. Even the light coming in through the window was the light of a different day and time. Outside, it had been the kind of hot, humid August day that feels like you’re breathing pea soup. From this window, I could see a full silver moon and a golden street lamp shining over a blue-white blanket of snow. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The time display was blinking as if it had shorted out.

The other living room was real. Even when I looked for it as a teenager and couldn’t find it, even when I told myself it was only make-believe at best and a delusion at worst, even when I moved out to go to college and never felt at home anywhere again, all along it had been real.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, walking softly around the room, and: “Thank you.”

I told myself I was only going to stay until I calmed down, but I couldn’t seem to stop crying. Everything set me off, from the teddy bear on the shelf to the scent of lavender, blending with the lemon soap that Kirsten had always used as if the two of them had just stepped out moments ago. I crumpled up one tissue after another from the box on the table and stuffed them into my pockets. My eyes and nose burned.

I never heard the door open, or the sound of slippered footsteps on the rug. What made me look up was a soft, shaky intake of breath - in a voice that was not mine.

“Oh my,” said Kirsten. “Well … the doctors did warn me.”

She must have taken one look at my black dress, red nose and swollen eyes and guessed from what time I had just come. Looking at her, I could make a similar guess: This was after she’d stopped chemo, but before she had gone to the hospice. Her hair was growing back in soft white wisps. She looked pale and drawn, but not as much as during those last weeks. She wore the soft burgundy shawl Rudy had given her on the last Christmas before his heart attack. She shuffled into the room, wrapping the ends of that shawl around her as if she were cold.

I really had to stop crying now. It would be too unfair to make her comfort me about her own death. Besides, sheer astonishment was drying my tears faster than anything else could have done. In all the years I’d lived or even visited this house, I had never seen another person enter this room.

“How … how is this happening?” I croaked. “How are you here? I thought … ”

“You thought you were the only one?” Her wrinkles deepened into a wry, knowing smile. “Who do you think showed you the way? Or tried to, anyhow. After all these years, I’m glad to see it actually worked.”

She settled herself in the armchair next to mine with a creak and a sigh, waiting patiently for me to collect my scattered thoughts.

“Showed me the … ? Oh!” I thought back to the day I had first found the room. What I usually remembered was loneliness, but in that moment, I heard Kirsten’s “This is your home” as clearly as if it were the first time. “Oh … thank you!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“But you … we never talked about it … ”

“You didn’t seem to want to,” said Kirsten with a shrug. “I figured you needed privacy.”

All these years we had missed out on sharing something so precious to both of us. 

“How did you even find this place? Did you … ” My voice dropped to an awed whisper as a new idea occurred to me. “Did you … create it?”

“Me?” She laughed until she had to catch her breath. “Goodness, no! If I could control time and space like that, I’d make a door to some sunny beach somewhere.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes, still grinning. “No, I found it when we first moved here, before the kids were born. I made such a mess in the kitchen one night, just when Rudy’s boss was invited to dinner. Tomato sauce everywhere, I swear, it looked like a crime scene! I ran to the cupboard for paper towels, panicking all the time, and opened this door instead. You can imagine how that put my messy kitchen into perspective.”

I laughed along with her, not only because it was so rare for the Kirsten I knew to panic, but because I knew exactly what she meant. 

“So you had time to clean before the boss showed up?”

“Oh no, but at least it gave us something to joke about.” Her smile faded away into a wistful little sigh. “Those were good times.”

I nodded slowly. This room did have a way of reminding you of your good times. I ran my finger over the swirling white vine pattern on my mother’s tablecloth the way I used to as a child. The dye hadn’t faded. Nothing ever seemed to fade here. 

“Was it you who put my parents’ things here?”

“Yes, I did.” She peered down with respectful attention at the pattern I was tracing. “They left them for you. I couldn’t think of a safer place.”

I had no words for what that had meant to me over the years except a half-choked “Thank you,” but she smiled and patted my hand as if she understood.

“I, um … I have another question.” One I never thought I’d have the chance to ask before now, even though it had been on my mind for decades.

“You can ask me anything,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Did you ever … ” 

How did I say this without sounding completely unhinged? It did help a little to remember that certain people - those downstairs probably included - would not consider either of us entirely sane for believing in a place like this. 

“Did you ever want to just … move in here?” I asked, with an awkward wave of my hand around the room. “I mean … like you said, it’s a safe place. The only safe place sometimes, it feels like. Do you ever just want to … stay?”

As I talked, I could imagine all too clearly how she might want to. Since she was dying, a place where time did not obey its usual rules might call to her even more than it did to me. When she left this room, the cancer would go back to eating away at her. She’d have to give up everything she enjoyed: long walks, rich food, even crafting once she could no longer thread a needle. Frank would organize an online schedule for us all to take turns bringing her groceries. She would die comfortable, but vacant, with too many painkillers in her system to recognize any of our faces.

I couldn’t tell whether she was thinking any of the same things. All I know is that when she answered, her face was as calm and confident as I had ever seen it.

“No, dear,” she said. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you still get hungry, for one thing.”

“Oh.” That matter-of-tact answer made me suspect that, at one point in her life, she might have actually tried it. 

“Also, I’ve been wondering all my life how this place could have happened, and my best guess is that it must be a miracle. Miracles,” she fixed her bright blue-gray eyes on me with something almost like a challenge, “Aren’t meant to hide away in. They’re meant to be shared.”

“A miracle … ” I repeated, halfway between awe and dismay. “Wait - shared? You mean with - ” I tipped my head in the direction of the door, outside of which were the stairs that led to Melissa, Frank and Josh in the living room.

“With your brothers and sister, yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Not even the implication that all four of us were equally her children made me feel any less like a bristling porcupine. 

“But - they’ll never believe me!” I sputtered. “They didn’t back then, so why would they now? They already think there’s something wrong with me. If I come after them with something like this, I … I don’t even know what they’d do! They never wanted me in this family - all these years, they never even tried to get to know me - ”

“There is nothing wrong with you. No one here believes that.” Kirsten’s voice was quiet, but very stern, as she interrupted my tirade. “And as for trying, when was the last time you tried to get to know them?”

That silenced me at once.

The shameful truth was that I couldn’t remember the last time I had tried to get close to the others. I never learned to take rejection well; one setback is enough to set all my metaphorical quills on edge. I must have given up soon after moving in with them. If our not feeling like a real family was partly their fault, it was also partly mine. 

Besides, I realized, I might be wrong about that too. Earlier today, hadn’t Josh defended me from Melissa’s comment about me being too single for such a big house? Hadn’t Melissa apologized? And hadn’t Frank done his best to find a solution that was fair to all of us?

“You’re right.” I blushed and lowered my head. “I should try … I will try.”

“That’s all I can ask.” 

Kirsten gripped the arms of the chair and began rising carefully to her feet, signaling quite clearly even to me that she was worn out and wanted to end this conversation. I could have sat talking to her for hours - if you could call them hours in this timeless place - just so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her again, but I knew how selfish that would be.

I did, however, have one more question.

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Dying, you mean?” She snorted. “Of course!”

“Really? … You don’t seem scared.”

“I don’t like to worry all of you.” She leaned on my arm as we shuffled towards the door, her thin hand holding on with surprising strength. “Also, I’m curious about what happens next. I like to think of Rudy standing by the Pearly Gates, with a full itinerary of sights.” 

I smiled, because that sounded so like him. 

“And if I’m wrong and nothing happens,” she added with characteristic common sense, “At least I’ll never have to find out.”

Just as we reached the door, she squeezed my arm even tighter and looked up at me with sudden intensity, stopping me in mid-step. “One more thing,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Tell your sister and your brothers that I love them.” Her eyes glittered. “And tell yourself the same. I wish I’d said it more often.”

“You show it all the time,” I said. “But - yes, of course, and - Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you too.”

I opened the door for us both.

One moment she was holding on to me, the next she was gone.

I’d thought I was all cried out for the night, but I wasn’t. All the better; these tears barely hurt at all.

/

My siblings, of course, were still sitting in the downstairs living room. From their perspective, I must have left the room for only a few moments, just long enough to splash water on my face and take a few deep breaths. 

Standing in the doorframe in the moment before they spotted me, it struck me how old they looked. They had always been older than me, but this was different. The men’s hair was turning from salt-and-pepper to plain salt, and Melissa’s was such a bright gold, I guessed that she dyed it. Their skin was beginning to have that crepe-paper look. All three of them were on their phones, scrolling and frowning, avoiding each other’s eyes. It felt like such a short time since we had been children. In Kirsten’s eyes, no doubt we still were.

I stepped forward.

“Are you okay?” Josh pocketed his phone and came towards me, his blue-gray eyes wide with concern. 

“I’m, uh … better, thanks.” I blinked away the last few tears and cleared my throat. “I need to tell you something.”

He nodded, stepped back and waved a hand for me to go ahead. All three of them looked up with polite, expectant faces. It felt like being a teenager again and having to give a presentation in class, only more so. I wished I had stayed upstairs at least long enough to prepare a speech.

I turned to Melissa first, who I had always thought disliked me the most, just to get it over with. “You’re right,” I said, causing her to raise her eyebrows. “This house is too big for one person … and in some ways, I can see how it would make sense to sell it,” turning to Frank, who nodded in a gratified way and opened his mouth as if to jump right into a planning session. I flung up my hands just in time, however, and no one interrupted.

“It’s just … this house, it’s … it’s more than a piece of real estate,” I went on in my incoherent way. “It’s the only home I can really remember. It’s where Kir - it’s where Mom and Dad took care of us, and … and it’s where we could always come back when we needed to. I don’t … I don’t see why it can’t still be like that. I think … we could all use a place to come back to, sometimes. I know it’s not where we live, most of the year anyway, but this is still our home, and I … I want to keep it. For all of us.”

This was the most personal thing I had said to them in years. I might as well have come downstairs in my underwear. I waited for Melissa to roll her eyes, or Frank to keep arguing, or Josh to look away in quiet second-hand embarrassment. I waited.

“Huh,” said Frank, squinting at me over the top of his glasses. “That’s interesting.”

I braced myself for whatever came next.

“What’s interesting?” Josh asked warily. 

“That the adopted kid takes after Mom the most.” Frank smiled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I know what you mean,” Melissa admitted in a surprisingly small voice. “I always used to wonder where she went to find that … whatever it was … peace, I guess? It made me so jealous.”

“Me too.” Josh shared a rueful smile with her. “Wish I could go there.”

In that moment, the same current I had sensed when Kirsten had told me I was home went buzzing through my hands. Without thinking about it, I knew exactly what to do. I sat down on the sofa between Josh and Melissa and put a hand on each of their arms, and Josh - as if by instinct - reached over to nudge Frank. The current flowed between the four of us at once.

“You’ll find it,” I said to my family.

I believed it then, and I still do. 

Whoever you are, reading this, may you find it too.

There’s a room in your house that exists outside of normal time. No one can bother you because no time passes between you going in and coming out no matter how long you’re there. Until one day someone is already there.

[graceface1712]

Spoiling her

SoftRafexSweetPougePrincess

Summary: Sweet Pouge princess is too poor to afford stuff like a phone. So Rafe takes her out and buys her one. And maybe some other stuff

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊ *ੈ

“Ready to go?” Rafe asks Y/N.

“Yup!”

They both climb into his truck. He starts driving them over to the non-touristy section of OBX. There is a mall, stores, and a couple restaurants.

Rafe pulls into the mall parking lot. Y/N looks over at him confused.

“What are we doing here?” She asks him.

“We need to get a few things.” He says before getting out of his truck and quickly walking over to open her door. He stretches out his hand to her and she grabs it. They walk hand in hand into the mall.

Y/N has only ever been here a few times. And it was mainly because Kiara had money and wanted to buy some stuff and invited Y/N. But she didn't buy anything, just tagged along.

Rafe leads her through the mall before she finally sees where he must be heading. The Apple Store. Becoming more confused, she turns her head to Rafe’s. They walk in together.

“What are we doing here?” She asks him again.

“We’re buying you a phone.” Rafe says it's no big deal. Y/N’s mouth drops open.

“What! Rafe you can’t do this. We barely even know each other! This is our first date.” She tries to argue but Rafe is having nothing of it.

“Look I’m going to need a way to contact you that isn’t driving to your house all the time. This is the only option I could think of.” He says.

“But Rafe. These phones are so expensive! Why do you think I have never had one? And I can’t afford a phone bill every month!” Y/N keeps pressing as they walk around the store. Rafe doesn’t seem to be listening to her, just looking at the different colors and options.

“I will pay for it all. It won’t even make a scratch in my bank account sweetheart. Now please stop worrying. Look at this one, it’s your favorite color.” He points to a phone on display. It’s a baby pink. Absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N can feel herself cave when she sees the look in his eyes. He will not hear her say no. And this color is so beautiful.

“Alright, well that’s settled.” He calls over a sales person.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The associate asks.

“Hi. I’ll take this iPhone, at its best value. I’ll also take an iPad Air, in pink please. And to go with that, an Apple Pencil.” Rafe says. The associate nods along and disappears to grab the items.

“Why did you ask for a pink iPad?” Y/N asks.

“Because once you get your phone, watching streaming services and playing games are so much more fun on a bigger screen.” He says like it’s obvious.

Y/N gasps. “Rafe. Are you kidding me? The phone is already way more than needed.” She scolds him.

“I do not care. You are my girl. I’m going to spoil you. And a phone is necessary so you can call or text me whenever. The iPad is just for fun.” He shoots me a wink and the sales associate comes back with all the things in a bag.

We walk over to the counter and Rafe takes out his black Amex card to pay. I can’t even look at how much he’s spending right now, or else it will make me throw up.

Rafe thanks the associate and then grabs the bag along with my hand. Hut by the look on his face he isn’t done yet.

“Rafe please. This is more than enough for today. Thank you so much. But I don’t need you spending any more money on me.”

“Okay.” He says with a small pout on his lips.

We go home and helps me set everything up. Let’s just say I’m addicted to temple run now.

[badhee]

𝑼𝑵𝑩𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

pairing: musician bf!heeseung x skater gf!reader ft. jake & sunoo genre/tags: smut, fluff, some angst, takes place in the year ‘08, scenecore aesthetic, forbidden relationship, references to old media n other stuff, mentions of weed, way too much dialogue, very cringey texting (it’s fitting for that time period tho lol), y/n has a toxic home life, heeseung and y/n get into an argument but gets resolved quickly, mentions of crying, switch!hee (he do be switchin’), fingering, oral (m. rec), semi-public sex, piv, unprotected sex, creampie words: 7k+

[ note. ] — this is another old fic of mines from my old blog that i wrote over a year ago (05/30/23), i felt nostalgic reading this again so i wanted to share it on my page!

No one likes being given lectures or told they can’t do something. If anything— it only drives the person to want to do it more. Unlucky for you, you were about to receive yet another antagonizing speech as soon as you arrive back home. It’s past 10 o’clock and way beyond dark, you should’ve been home a good hour ago. This was all Jake and Sunoo’s fault though; they were the ones who kept distracting you from keeping track of time.

They wouldn’t stop bombarding you with messages on MySpace. Spamming your inbox asking you to meet them at the mall after classes. Sunoo really wanted to get a Skelanimal hoodie from Hot Topic and Jake wanted to look around Spencer’s. You only bought a fuzzy Domo-Kun keychain for your bag. The only goal you had was to save as much money as possible in hopes of being able to eventually move out.

You had overbearing and controlling parents, they were strict and had extreme core values for the household. It was nearly impossible to live up to their excessively high standards so you started going against them. Self-expression was not something they celebrated, instead they treated it with disdain. They thought your dyed hair, dark clothes, and excessive use of eyeliner was “too eccentric” and the work of the “devil”. It also didn’t help that they absolutely hated all your friends, including your boyfriend, Heeseung.

On a random night, you had him over while you thought everyone was gone for a while. Turns out they arrived back earlier than expected and ended up catching you and Heeseung red handed, making out in your bed. Your parents were completely mortified to see a boy covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings with their daughter. Not exactly the ideal man they had in mind for you. It was hell to pay for you after that, they never wanted you seeing him again. Threat after threat to kick you out all because they believe he was nothing but a bad influence on you.

Will you ever listen though? Of course not, you love him like crazy. There was nothing getting in your way from seeing him. You’re an adult and can make your own logical decisions, they still treated you like a baby which infuriated you. Naturally your only choice now was to date in secrecy, sneaking out the house so you can go hang out at his place. You had a solid routine at this point— just wait until everyone was asleep and sneak out through the window. Your house was only one level so ideally it worked out perfect. Once you got out successfully, Heeseung would pick you up and just drive around for a bit sometimes. Today would be no different, you were on your way to sneak out again.

You skated all the way back home from the mall since neither Jake or Sunoo had a car. Listening to Bring Me The Horizon on your iPod while sipping on a slushy from 7-Eleven, one more block until you got home. You pivot your board to the side entering your driveway; feeling that pit in your stomach knowing what’s about to erupt. You lift your board up from the ground and walk inside the house with it.

“Where the fuck have you been y/n?! It’s 10:45 pm on a school night! You better not have been hanging out with those damn junkies again!” Your mom practically screams in your face the minute you walk through the door.

“I was just at the skatepark after class, leave me alone!” You snap back at her viciously, “and for the last time, they’re not fucking junkies they’re my friends!”

Now seeing her face visibly redden with anger, she points her finger at you harshly. “Who the hell are you talking to like that? I’m the one who runs shit around here, not you. Speak to me like that again and you’re going to wish you’ve never been born, got it?”

You really couldn’t help but laugh in her face, you’ve heard it all at this point.

“That’s hilarious, you make it seem like even I asked to be brought into this shitty world to begin with!” You shove her out the way, walk to your room and block out the rest of her nonsensical hollering.

Finally you’re able to text Heeseung in peace. Your heart was still pounding from that whole encounter. You don’t stand up to your mom often enough, praying to God that she doesn’t end up kicking you out right this instant. Pulling out your BlackBerry phone with a sliding keyboard, you text your boyfriend after hours of not talking.

Seungieeee, where r u ? xc

He replies to your message almost instantly,

@ Jake’s. can i scoop?

Yes pls get meee, my mom’s being an annoying cunt again!!

Not again… ok will be there in 10. cul8r

Also Jake is having horror movie night he says i have to come -_-

Tell him we MUST watch bride of chucky or else i’ll fuck him up >:[

I gotchu babe lmaoo :p

You quickly change into different clothes and reapply your smeared eyeliner from earlier. It was safe to say you needed to pack a few things in your bag incase of having to stay over; who knows how tonight might ensue. Since it became frigid outside you put on your favorite hoodie which was previously Heeseung’s. You’ve grown a lot of attachment to it over time. The most sickening part of it was that even after months of wearing it you still never washed it, wanting to keep the scent of him lingering on it for as long as you could. The smell of him brought you a sense of comfort, whenever you’d come home and your mom starts cursing at you you’d just curl up in bed cuddling with Heeseung’s hoodie.

A loud thump clamoring against your window startles you. You come closer in it’s direction to slowly walk up and see what the commotion was.

*Thump*

There it goes again.

You froze in confusion, feeling a bit worried now. Could it just be the wind?

You swing open the curtain to reveal your boyfriend, standing outside the window actively throwing rocks to get your attention. You couldn’t believe he’d attempt something so bold like this, your parents weren’t asleep and could catch you at any minute. Prying open the window so you can finally talk, you tell him to back away and stop causing a ruckus.

“Are you fucking crazy? My mom’s in the living room, quit making all that damn noise!”

“I got tired of waiting, just wanted to see you already!” He whines, anxiously waiting for you the whole time.

He literally just saw you yesterday but is so obsessed that he could never get sick of being around you.

“Gimme one sec.” You pause to grab all your stuff and jump out the window to go meet him.

Almost lost your balance in the process but thankfully Heeseung swooped in to keep you stable. You landed backwards into his chest and felt the warmth of his body against you. Your boyfriend was too dreamy, every part of him made your kitty throb. He was more than just a pretty face though, he was a hard-working musician too. He played the guitar, drums, and could sing beautifully. He was the true definition of a one man show, his real passion was to become a singer and songwriter.

You fully supported him in anything in he does, he uploaded most of his music on MySpace and got thousands of interactions instantly. His songs would continue to grow more popular online and he got more gigs to perform at shows. You were beyond ecstatic for him but also worried about it all in hindsight. The more famous he gets the less quality time he’ll be able to spend with you. You know this sounds really selfish but it always crosses your mind. The fear of losing him was something you just couldn’t fathom or grasp right now.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so so much my pretty baby.” Heeseung didn’t waste a single minute to smother you in the car. His lips plastered all over your face, always doing the absolute most when showing his affection towards you.

“Missed— you too— babe!” You muffle in between kisses, your heart was overwhelmed with joy.

He looked exceptionally good today too, then again he always does. Bright orange strands hid the side of his face, the semi-oversized black t-shirt he wore clung to his body perfectly, and the snake bites and eyebrow piercing on him was to die for.

“Oh! You like my new piercing I got?” Heeseung announces after pulling away.

He proceeds to open his mouth and stick his tongue out, revealing a shiny silver ball smack dab in the middle. You weren’t shocked that he’d consider another piercing, you’re just surprised by the placement.

“Whoa, your tongue!” You gasp, pointing at it in amusement, “looks so cool, did that hurt?!”

“Not really, and thanks. Got it to please you better babe.” He knew he was causing to get all flustered by this.

“Y-you already please me enough Hee.” It was hard to even get a sentence out without tripping over words.

“I know that! But it can always be improved, right?”

There was nothing he really needed to improve but he found new ways to do it anyway. You really just loved him for who he is, all the extra stuff were added bonuses. He was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for in the whole universe.

“Do you want anything while we’re out? I can stop at the store and get that pink Monster drink you like.” He asks tentatively.

You think about it for a second but you just had a slushy from earlier, “I think I’m okay for now, hopefully Jake has some snacks at his crib!”

Heeseung nods, “Oh he def will, the guy smokes more than a damn chimney and gets a crazy case of the munchies.”

The whole ride there you listened to Heeseung’s music on a CD he burned. You were definitely his biggest fan, knowing all the lyrics to every single song because most were written about you. One of his most popular songs was an entire dedication to you, he never mentioned your name in it but every aspect of the song includes a small detail of your relationship. He liked the art of hidden subliminal messages in his music, knowing that only you two can fully understand.

Finally, you get to Jake’s house and are immediately met with gusts of clouds from all the smoke. You spot a blue-haired Jake and red-haired Sunoo who were sitting on the couch smoking a joint and giggling amongst themselves. You weren’t against smoking it just wasn’t your thing since you knew that you’d be in so much trouble if you showed up home high.

“Jakey! Sunny!” Your voice becomes more high-pitched when greeting your friends as you go up to hug them.

“Y/n! It’s always good to see you again.” Jake says, hugging you back.

“Hii y/n, come sit and watch the movie with us!” Sunoo scoots over to make room for you both.

Heeseung was just here so he didn’t feel the need to say hi to them again, instead just sitting down and having you on his lap.

“What’re we watching?” You ask, looking at the TV trying to make out what the movie is. “This doesn’t look like Bride of Chucky to me!”

“Jeepers Creepers 2!” Jake replies, “it’s not as scary as the first one to be honest but it’s still pretty decent. Oh, and I don’t have that one on DVD sorry.”

“Are you serious?! I could’ve went to Blockbuster and rented the damn movie out!” You were a little upset you wouldn’t be able to watch one of your favorites.

“It’s okay y/n, we’ll watch it next time. Also, I thought this movie was pretty scary Jake. I still get nightmares after watching it alone…” Sunoo admits.

“Of course you did, ‘cause you’re a big baby!” Heeseung teases, “and you’re baked off your ass? This is gonna be an interesting time.”

“You should’ve seen him earlier, he wouldn’t stop crying while watching Silent Hill!” Jake adds, pointing over in Sunoo’s direction.

“That never happened fuck off! You go try watching that shit in pitch black at 3 am and see what happens then!” Sunoo huffs, getting fed up with the both of them.

You couldn’t stop laughing at the whole debacle, playing with your boyfriend’s hands between your legs. The whole day went pretty well, you had a blast with Jake and Sunoo at the mall and now you’re reunited with them again and your boyfriend. The only real problem was your home life, but you had an escape so it wasn’t all too bad.

“Do you have any snacks Jake?” You ask, looking over at his kitchen to scan the area.

“Duh! I got chips, pretzels, ice cream, frozen pizzas, dino nuggets, really anything you could think of honestly. We kinda overdid it at Target..” He says, looking over at a guilty Sunoo.

“Hey, it’s better to be overstocked and than under!” Sunoo did make a great point.

You slowly get up from Heeseung’s lap and walk into the kitchen to get some ice cream. Luckily, Sunoo remembered to get your favorite flavor while they were out. You got a giant bowl and scooped piles of ice cream on top, putting chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles to finish it off.

“For me? Thanks!” Heeseung reaches his hand out in attempt to snatch the bowl from your hand but you weren’t letting off that easy.

“Not so fast- get your own loser!” Swiping the bowl away and flashing him an evil glare. You did not mess around when it comes to your favorite ice cream.

Sitting back down on the couch again, you finish watching the movie with them.

“Should I get raccoon highlights in my hair y/n? I been thinking about it for a while but I dunno if it’ll suit me,” Sunoo asks next to you.

You nod your head in agreement, “Hell yeah, do it! But you could rock any hairstyle Sunny.”

“Awe, thanks my dear!” He chirps, making a heart with his hands.

“I look good too, right y/n?” Jake chimes in, he’s always wanting to be the center of attention.

“Don’t answer him.” Heeseung butts in the conversation, giving Jake the side eye.

“Oh but it’s okay for her to compliment Sunoo and not me?!” He raises an eyebrow of confusion.

Heeseung shrugs, “That’s because Sunoo is gay, he poses no threat to me.”

“Yeah but he does for me, do you see the way he looks at you sometimes?!” You jokingly reply.

“I’m not gonna steal your girl bro. Besides she’s literally conjoined to you by the hip, I wouldn’t be surprised if both your hearts beat in unison!” You couldn’t stop laughing at Jake’s comments, he could sound so bitter at times.

“They do. We’re the same person actually,” Heeseung leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek. “You’re my little twin, isn’t that right babe?”

“Only if I get to be the evil one!” You combat, giggling at him tickling your tummy.

“Deal.”

“Ugh, I hate ya’ll. Making me feel like a third wheel in my own damn house..” Jake expresses with disgust over the way you’re both all over each other.

“Then get your own fucking girlfriend and stop looking at mine,” Heeseung was now nibbling on your neck, holding you tightly in his embrace.

You were a giggly mess, you made you feel so high when you were with him.

“Or you can get your own room and go fuck there instead of making us suffer watching you both act like sluts!”

Heeseung pauses to think about it for a bit. “Huh, that actually doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea. C’mon babe, let’s go!” He lightly taps your thigh, signaling for you to get up.

“And the only slut in this house is your mom for not swallowing you,” Heeseung claps back one last time before you both dip.

Sunoo burst out laughing hearing that, almost snorting. Jake was pissed but Heeseung ran out the door before he could even get to him.

“You’re a dead man when I see you again!” Jake yells through the door.

“Yeah sure, you’ll forget in 2 seconds from all the weed frying your brain!”

Getting in the car now, he starts driving but you have no idea where he’s even going.

“I hope you were only joking with him because that was a bit much, don’t you think?” Asking him in a way that wouldn’t come off too blunt.

“Are you serious? I’ve known Jake forever, we just joke like that. Besides, he was taking it a bit too far when he was fishing for compliments from my girl.”

You chuckle, of course he would still be stuck on that. He was pretty possessive over you, he would only be okay with you talking that way with Sunoo but all his other friends were off limits. “Ooh, I think someone’s feeling a little jelly!” You tease, poking his face with your index finger.

“Yeah and so what if I am? You gonna sue me? Come and arrest me? Honestly speaking, you’d look really hot in a sexy cop outfit.” He gushes, sneaking glances over at you while driving.

“Is that some weird fantasy of yours? I come in your room one day and handcuff you to the bed?” You couldn’t even say that with a straight face.

“Now that you mention it, I might actually do.. Can we try that one day?”

“Sure, whatever your little heart desires.”

++

Heeseung parks into an empty lot and stops the car. You can see an old abandoned train station in front of you, the windows were shattered, graffiti plastered all over with overgrown moss on the exterior. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie which seemed to fit the theme of the night.

“How come I’ve never seen this place before?” You ask, stunned by it’s ominous beauty.

“I just discovered it recently while driving aimlessly around town, I figured out a way to get onto the roof, the view’s fucking insane!” He grabs your hand and leads the way inside.

Thankfully he had a flashlight on him so it was easier to navigate through the dark halls. The barren walls were covered in more graffiti, as was the ceiling which kind of freaked you out. There was a creepy porcelain doll sitting in the corner of one area, half of it’s face was broken which was giving you nightmare fuel. You tensely clung onto your boyfriend’s arm for support, closing your eyes so you don’t have to look at anymore creepy things in this place.

“Are we almost there Hee?” You whine, trying to gain your composure but you just want to get the hell out of here.

“Chillax babe, you’ll be fine. No one’s gonna get you, they’ll have to get through me first!” He reassures, squeezing your hand to comfort you.

Heeseung finds his way through the maze and you walk up a few flights of stairs to eventually reach the top of the roof.

“Mission complete!” Heeseung announces loudly, “you can open your eyes now love.”

Your eyes flutter open and adjust to what you’re seeing. You could see almost the entire city from the top, you didn’t realize how high up you were. Your fear of heights were now starting to kick in so you cling back onto his arm like a magnet. Heeseung starts walking towards a certain spot on the roof, “Come with me, I wanna show you something.”

You follow him while holding hands, he walks over to an area and points at one of the brick tiles. You end up spotting both you and Heeseung’s initials + forever carved into the brick with a heart around it, a Polaroid photo of you two kissing was also attached next to it. You couldn’t help but tear up at the sight, it was such a simple yet cute gesture.

“Soo, what do you think?” He was starting to get a bit nervous, hoping you’d appreciate it as much as he enjoyed doing it.

“I-I think it’s adorable. I love it so much, you’re the cutest ever!” You jump into his arms and he wraps you into a tight hug.

“I’m glad you like it. I thought it was kinda corny at first but when you think about it.. it’s only corny if you make it out it to be.”

You loved the thought he put into just about anything. It amazed you how you found such a great guy in your life, but having to sneak around and date him was the worst.

“I love you so much Hee.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” He pauses as if to stop himself but continues, “too bad your parents hated my guts before I could even get the chance to speak.”

“Fuck my parents, I don’t care about their opinions. The only one that matters is mine and yours.”

He shakes his head, “Actually no, don’t fuck your parents, fuck me instead!”

“Oh, eww you know what I meant!” You frown, playfully hitting his arm.

You look up to see a sky full of stars, the distant twinkling mesmerizing you from faraway.

“So, I got asked to perform at this festival coming up.” Heeseung protrudes your thoughts.

Your face lit up at that exciting news, “Oh really? That’s exciting, I’m so happy for you! Where is it?”

He goes quiet for a minute, “10 hours away from here and they want me to perform on both days…”

“I mean, I understand that you’ll be away from me but isn’t this your dream?” You want to be happy for him but deep down you’re feeling depressed.

“It is… but I don’t like not having you with me. It’s like my brain can’t function without you. I wish you could come along..”

“I know, I wish I could too but there’s no way in hell that’s possible.” Your head hung low as you expressed your apprehensions. You’d give anything to travel with your boyfriend to his shows, but you know your parents would never let that happen.

“Why not? I’m tired of doing this shit with you, we’re grown adults but I still have to go sneaking around just to see my damn girlfriend, do you know how exhausting that is? How much of a toll it’s been taking on me? I don’t wanna keep living like this anymore y/n.” Heeseung let’s it all out, this is what he’s been bottling up inside.

“Are you seriously trying to pit all the blame on me? You know I never wanted this to happen! I would give absolutely anything to make my parents like you, that’s just the way they are I can’t change it! I wish you’d stop guilt tripping me into thinking I’m always in the wrong!” You attempt to walk away from him but he pulls you in again. He saw you tearing up now, feeling responsible for his actions he wipes them away and does his best to undo the damage he’s already caused.

“No no, don’t cry please. Y/n stop crying, I didn’t mean to say it harshly like that. Please— I just don’t like seeing you like this.” His consoling words only do so much to mitigate the situation.

It wasn’t working enough for you, you continued sobbing loudly in his shoulder. He tried getting you to calm down but nothing was seeming to suffice. He couldn’t help but tear up too, he really felt like the world’s worst boyfriend right now. He keeps telling you he didn’t mean it and that he was sorry, apologizing over and over sounding like a broken record.

“All I want is to make you happy. Please, baby just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything! I’ll jump off this goddamn building if you told me, if that’s what I need to prove how much I love you, I’ll do it.”

He was dead serious when he meant that. He was so lovestruck by you that anything was reasonable in his eyes. As long as it meant that you were happy in the end he saw no wrong with the outcome.

“Don’t say things like that, I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. I just wish you could see how difficult this situation is for me too.” You finally spoke.

“I know, I never doubted your struggles babe, I’m sorry if it seemed like I was dismissing them. I just really want you to do this one thing for me, I’m not asking much… please. I won’t take it if I can’t have my #1 fan there to cheer me on.”

You crack a tiny smile as you sniffle and wipe your tear stained face. He was always going to pick you first over anything, even his own career.

“You better be so fucking lucky my eyeliner is waterproof, you would’ve been dead meat if it got smudged!” You joke, letting him pull you back into his chest once again.

“It’s not like I’ve never made it smudge in other ways.” He replies, kissing the rest of your fallen tears away.

The mood shifts back to normal. He holds you close to him, hearing the rapid sounds of his heart pacing. It was soothing to you, giving you a sense of tranquility.

“The moon looks so beautiful today.” You quietly say, looking in awe while tracing the shapes of his tattoos on his arm.

“Yeah the moonlight looks nice, we should have sex under it.”

You spring your head up to face him with a questionable look, “Oh my god, you’re such a horndog. Only thinking with your dick!”

“When am I ever not horny?” He lightly chuckles, “but come on, let’s do it! I’m so boreddd.”

His attention span never lasted for too long, always needing to keep himself busy. Partially one of the reasons why you had sex a lot.

You gave in to his desires quickly, letting his hands explore your upper body. He slowly marks trails of kisses down your chin and neck, feeling his lip ring graze over the sensitive skin. His mouth parts open to reveal his flashy tongue piercing again, gliding it over you as you sharply inhale. The sensation was making your brain short-circuit, feeling a second pulse between your thighs.

“Mmh… feels so good Hee.” You whimper, shutting your eyes completely.

Those sneaky hands of his wander lower, coming in contact with your love handles to gently caress them. You gasp once you feel a light squeeze against your ass, grabbing as much as he can fit in his hands. It felt too ticklish when he slid his tongue up, making you squirm a bit. He works his way up to your chin again and plants a soft kiss to your lips. Standing on your tippy toes to slightly lean more into him, he latches onto you tighter.

Your foreheads were glued to each others but that still wasn’t enough, if you could get any closer you would. You had your arms locked around his neck, moving your lips with the motion of his. The kiss grew more desperate with time, playing with the metal bar once he slipped his tongue inside. You rake your hands through his fluffy hair, getting a handful of it, tugging it just slightly enough to solicit a moan from him. He goes bonkers whenever you pull his hair, it was a huge turn on for him.

“Do you want me to take the lead or you?” He asks politely, pulling away slowly before continuing any further.

You both liked to alternate between who’s in control during sex, it was fun having a boyfriend that didn’t mind being submissive at times.

“Why don’t we both take turns?” You reply, your eyes lustfully scanning him.

Something must’ve came over you because once he bit down on his lip you went feral, pushing him up against the door entrance and pinning his body with your weight. He swallows a massive lump in his throat, staring at you with the utmost adoration.

“So hot…” your boyfriend mumbles. Ready for whatever you had in store for him.

Thank God it was the dead of night and no one was around to be seeing or hearing what was about to go down. You’ve fucked in some strange places before, the movie theater, playground, a cemetery, and now on a roof of an abandoned train station. They may not have been the most romantic places of choice but all of them held a sentimental memory in their own ways.

Your lips crash with his again, kissing roughly while running your fingers along the lines of his shoulders. He cups your face in his palms, deepening the kiss to embrace every part of you. You explored a little lower, finding yourself playing with the hem of his shirt, lightly tugging on it to signal him to take it off. He obeys your wordless command, pulling it up over his head and tossing it to the ground next to him. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times but you still never get used to how sexy he is. Trailing your fingers across his chest, tracing the contour of his toned abs and pecs. The more you touch him the wetter you got.

“Need you so bad baby…” He mutters under his breath, looking at you with glossy eyes.

“Don’t worry Hee, I’ll please you soon.”

You place small pecks to his chest, kissing each every spot. You go down a bit lower to his v-line, admiring how beautiful it is; placing another delicate kiss. You glide your tongue on his skin, tracing the deep lines as you go. Now coming face to face with his crotch, you undo the studded belt he was wearing. He quickly unzips his pants, not wanting to waste anymore time to reveal the massive boner he’s been hiding. His cock was ginormous, way above average. You were rightfully terrified of it at first but as you got more used to it you adjust to his size perfectly now after being together for so long.

Your lashes flutter as you drag your lips to his tip, giving a few kitten licks to start off. Heeseung feels his breath hitch as he creates a makeshift ponytail with your hair, making sure to get a clear view of your face. You form more saliva in your mouth and spit directly onto him, coating it with your hand.

“Mmm… love when you make it all messy for me.” He groans while licking his lips.

You smile softly as you look up at him, giving a few pumps to his cock before wrapping your mouth around him. You couldn’t fit most his length in your tiny mouth so you had to improvise. Taking half of him while your other hand strokes the rest. You slowly bob your head, rotating sideways while collecting more saliva to create an even bigger mess.

“C’monnn, you can fit more than that I’ve seen what you can do before babe.” He begs, grabbing onto your hair tighter.

You can’t stand when he bosses you around when you’re supposed to be the one in charge. You detach yourself from his cock and look up to see his whiny reaction.

“What the fuck baby, why’d you stop? Keep going… pleaseee.” He pleads, bucking his hips into the air.

“Not until you shut the fuck up and let me do what I wanna do!”

He gets his act together quickly and stops whining. “Okay.. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

Going back to what you were previously doing, you bring his cock to your face once again. Pressing his tip against your bottom lip, you flick your wet tongue over the slit. Taking slow, deep breathes Heeseung swallows an inconvenient lump in his throat the more you prolong it. You know he wants you to just suck him off already but that’s not what you’re going to do just yet.

You wrap your hand around his shaft, giving it a couple light strokes. You feel his veiny cock pulsating and throbbing in your small hand, making it twitch with each tug you give. You accumulate more saliva from your mouth to spit on his cock some more, rubbing it in to make it wet as possible. It was so slippery your hands kept loosing it out of your grasp, you gripped onto it tighter and accidentally squeezed his shaft bit.

The action makes Heeseung jump up a little and he rocked his hips forward, you look up to gauge his reaction.

“Sorry about that.”

He looks at you with confusion. “What’re you being sorry for? That felt kinda nice actually…”

You were surprised to hear that but you decide to do it again since he seemed to enjoy it. He winces from the light pressure but it doesn’t bother him. Guess you just found out another weird sex kink he has. You continue stroking his cock and he pants heavily for you to do more but you just act like you can’t hear him. Instead you keep stroking him and play with his scrotum in your free hand. He mumbles some gibberish under his breath and you build a steady rhythm, making him whine for more.

“I-if you’re not going to— ahh!” Heeseung could barely get a word out from you making his cock overly sensitive. “If you aren’t gonna suck my cock then let me fuck you already.”

You look up to see a flustered Heeseung, he looked so cute you just wanted to eat him. You let his torture finally come to an end as you get up from being on the ground, coming face to face with your lover once again.

“Hi pretty girl.” He says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey cutie pie.” You grin, meeting your lips with his again for a quick kiss.

“Take your pants off, pretty please!” Heeseung asks nicely while giving the most precious pout.

You can never say no to that face so you fumble with your ripped jeans to pull them off. He presses your back up against the door this time, having your legs wrapped around his waist for support.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til I have you screaming on this roof begging me not to stop.” He whispers against your ear. His dominance swings back into full force, making you want him even more.

He licks his lips at you, giving a sinful smile. His hands slide under your shirt to toy with your nipples. You let out a sigh as he rubs in gentle circles, hardening them within seconds. He pinches the sensitive bud to make you moan louder for him.

“Want you to make as much noise as you can, okay?” He asks.

Simply nodding your head, you swing your head to the side in pleasure.

He drags his finger along your inner thigh, playing with the fabric of your underwear. You relax into him, letting him take a peek inside to see feel how wet you are. You inhale carefully, watching down as you see him sink two of his digits into your aching core. Your muscles tense up and you feel eyes roll to the back of your head now. All that can be heard are faint slews of moans and the sounds of your wetness while he pumps into you. He kisses you again while pressing his fingers in your cunt faster, making you moan directly into his mouth.

He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs harsh circles, making your bud more puffy and swollen. You mess up his hair and grab onto him tighter. Once he pulls his fingers out, he brings them up to your lips making you suck the juices clean off. You look him in the eyes while doing it, sending a primal spirit within him.

“Can’t wait to fill up that pretty little cunt of yours.” He mutters against your neck, hands aligning with yours to bring you closer while he slides himself in between your sticky folds.

You cry out for him, wanting nothing more than to let him fill you up. You feel so empty as you clench around nothing, begging for him to fuck you already.

“Yes, please baby! Want you to fill me up, need your cock so bad please!” Whining to gain sympathy from him.

He’s not playing your little game though, not after how you tortured him earlier. “How bad you want it?” He groans, his cock still rubbing along your slit.

“So bad! I want you so bad please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything you say?” He questions while raising his eyebrow.

You nod profusely, “Yes, anything I mean it!”

“Then promise you’ll stay with me forever. You can never break up with me, you’re stuck with me until we die, got it?”

“I promise I’ll never leave you Heeseung, I wouldn’t even dream of doing something like that.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek, “Good” was all he had to simply say.

Repositioning himself to enter you now, he wraps his hands firmly around your waist, sliding into you with ease. He stays with his cock inside you for a bit, relishing the feeling of you around him. Nothing but sweet ecstasy fills your senses when he thrusts into you, feeling so full all you can do is scream. The immense waves of pleasure emitting chills up your spine as he fucks senselessly into you.

“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” He growls, digging his nails into the depths of your hips.

“Yes! Yes! Right there baby, just like that. Keep going..” You moan out, feeling close to your orgasm already the more he hits your erogenous spots.

His pierced tongue travels down your neck again, sucking and biting on the flesh harshly. You know those will definitely be leaving visible bruises once he’s done with you. You hold onto him tightly, crying out while drooling all over yourself as he quickens his pace.

“Need you to do as I say,” he pants against your neck, slamming his cock into your walls hungrily. “Want you to cum on my cock when I tell you to.”

It was impossible for you to even respond. Anything you said didn’t even sound remotely coherent. His mind was going blank too, the way your tight cunt won’t stop cinching around him was making it harder for him to move.

“Love how I can fuck this pussy as many times as I want and you’re still always so tight for me.” His cock was going into you mercilessly, fucking you so good you feel like you’re going to faint.

Your limbs grew weak and that deep pit in your stomach builds up, feeling your climax approaching by the minute.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck, please don’t stop!” You wail, begging for more as you let him do all work.

Your arousal was everywhere at this point, your shaky legs were dripping with your juices and the sounds of him pounding into you was harmonic to his ears. All Heeseung could focus on was making the both of you cum together. He loved it when you both came at the same time, it makes the moment more special to him.

“Cum with me baby, please.” He groans, sounding drunk off the way you feel, “just wanna fill this pussy up over and over…”

You brace yourself against him, “I’ll cum with you, promise. Just fill me up— need your cum so badly Hee, please!” You can’t stop whining, digging your nails into his back harshly.

The feeling was all so intense, seeing stars from being so cockstuffed. You didn’t even have a single moment to blink before your vision fades entirely to black. You let your orgasm erupt through you as you throw your head back. His thrusts become more erratic as he reaches his high, moaning out a bunch of curses along with your name.

“Y/n, please never leave me..” he says while in the middle of cumming inside you, “I love you so much, my angel forever.”

Even during something this intimate, he still never shies away from telling you how much you mean to him.

“I will never leave you, that’s a promise. I love you more.” Both your hands intertwine with one another, the love you have for each other is unbreakable.

You felt so warm inside, having Heeseung empty all his seed in you. Looking up at him to give him another passionate kiss before he pulls out.

You were struggling to put your clothes back on as you could barely stand up properly. Your wobbly legs would go into a different direction than you wanted. Heeseung helped stabilize you by wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in a half hug.

“How ‘bout we finally get out of here?” He asks, reaching for the door handle to head back downstairs.

“I kind of forgot we were still here actually.”

“Yeah, me too. C’mon let’s hurry and get to the car, I still haven’t tried this tongue piercing on you yet!” Heeseung says excitedly.

Giggling at his enthusiasm you walk back with him into the train station. You wanted to check the time on your phone but of course it was dead. It was way past a decent time for you to try sneaking back in so you don’t even bother going back home that night. Instead, you opt to stay over at Heeseung’s place, not really caring if you’re parents will be pissed tomorrow. This is your life after all, why let others stop you from enjoying it to the fullest?

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, arguments, hurt.

Nick and I stand there, frozen.

My stomach drops to my ass.

Christina is in Matt’s bed.

Fast asleep, wrapped up in his sheets like she belongs there. It reminds me of when I stayed in his bed in the house.

How could he allow her to do the same.

I feel Nick tense beside me, he's silent but I can almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, like he’s piecing together the same horrifying realization I am.

Then the ensuite door swings open.

And out walks Matt.

Messy hair. Shirtless. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Looks like she helped him out last night instead.

The second he looks up, our eyes meet.

And everything inside me stops.

Nick moves first, he could never be silent for that long. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Matt’s mouth parts slightly, but Nick doesn’t give him the chance.

“Seriously?” he seethes, stepping forward. His voice is a dangerous mix of betrayal and anger. “You fucking lied to me. To her.” His arm motions toward me, but I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.

Matt tries to speak.

But Nick gives him no mercy.

“I don’t wanna hear it!” he snaps, his voice rising. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking word come out of your mouth right now.”

Matt’s face hardens, but he stays silent.

Nick scoffs. “You had one thing to prove, Matt. That you meant it this time.” He shakes his head. “And you couldn’t even do that.”

I can’t stand here anymore.

I need to be in my room. So I turn and leave the room.

Not fast. Not slow. I honestly feel like I'm floating.

I can hear Nick’s voice from down the hall, and he's not letting up easy.

“You either care about her or you don’t, Matt.” His words cut through the thick, suffocating silence.

“So which is it?”

I don’t hear Matt’s answer.

Because I don’t think I could handle it.

Nick’s POV

Y/n turns and walks away, and I don’t blame her.

I watch her go, watch the way her arms wrap around herself like she’s holding herself together, like she has to hold herself together because Matt sure as fuck won’t.

But I’m not done.

Not even close.

I turn back to Matt, still standing there like a fucking idiot, like he’s the one blindsided.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking.” I breathe, the disbelief thick in my voice.

Matt doesn’t even try to defend himself.

Maybe he knows there’s no excuse.

Maybe he just doesn’t have one.

Matt motions me out of the bedroom before closing the door behind him, the two of us stood in the hallway.

“What, I might wake your precious Christina?” I sneer, pointing at the door. “Wouldn’t wanna interrupt her beauty sleep, huh?”

Matt exhales sharply. “It’s not like that.”

I laugh. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

He shakes his head, but I don’t soften.

“I’m so disgusted with you.” I shutter. “I thought you would be real this time. That if you were serious about Y/n, you’d to fucking act like it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. “Nick-”

“And what do you do?” I cut him off. “You self sabotage. Again. Like you always fucking do. Because you never know how to handle something real.”

Matt’s eyes darken.

I don’t care.

I take another step forward. “And Y/n?” I point a finger toward the door she just walked toward. “She’s the realest thing you’re ever gonna get. And you know that.”

He drops his gaze for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see it.

Guilt.

Good.

“You know it” I repeat, voice quieter but my tone stays the same. “And you just threw it away.”

Matt opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, a door behind me swings open.

“Jesus Christ” Chris groans, stepping into the hall. He looks half asleep, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Can you two shut the fuck up? Rachel’s asleep in my room.”

I whip around. “Oh, of course she is!” I snap. “So what, you’ve got a girl in your bed too?”

Chris blinks at me, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What?”

I throw my hands up.  “Seriously, who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea to bring girls out here?” 

I don’t care who hears me.

I don’t care if I wake up the entire goddamn villa.

Chris shrugs, unfazed. “I did?” looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“The fuck are you freaking out about?” he scoffs. “I like Rachel, so I flew her out. I can do that, you know.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh yeah? And you think that was a good fucking idea?”

Chris crosses his arms. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be?”

“Because look at what you just caused!” I snap, throwing a hand back toward Matt’s door. “You might not have been the fire, but you sure as fuck were the fuel.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m being real.” I hiss, stepping closer. “I want them out. Within the next two hours. I don’t give a fuck what needs to be done. I want them gone.”

Chris’ expression hardens. “That’s unfair.”

I shake my head. “Unfair?” I scoff. “You wanna talk about unfair? Y/n spent this whole trip thinking her and Matt were finally on the same fucking page, and now she walks in to find Christina, of all fucking people, in his bed? And you wanna stand there and act like I’m being unfair?

Chris opens his mouth, as Matt stands awkwardly next to me.

Chris locks eyes with him.

“Wait, what?” Chris’s brow furrows. “She’s in your bed?”

Matt still doesn’t say a word.

Chris shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, man.”

I shake my head in complete disgust, looking between the two of them.

“The two of you are fucking idiots” I say, my voice filled with nothing but disappointment. “Absolute fucking idiots.”

Chris exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, while Matt just stands there, still not saying a goddamn word.

I don’t have the patience for this. Not right now.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm down the hallway, heading straight for Y/n’s room on the other side of the villa. My blood is boiling, not just at Matt but at Chris too. They both fucked up, and they both know it.

As I walk away, I hear Chris let out a frustrated sigh before opening his door and stepping into his room.

Matt?

I don’t hear him move at all.

I get to Y/n’s room and try the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. It’s locked.

I sigh, knocking gently. “Y/n, it’s just me.”

A few seconds pass, and then I hear the soft click of the lock. The door opens, and there she is, completely wrecked, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. My chest tightens at the sight of her.

“Ah no Y/n.” I mutter, stepping in without hesitation.

Before she can say a word, I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly. The second she buries her face into my chest, she breaks, her sobs shaking her whole body. I squeeze her tighter, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“He’s an idiot” I tell her. “A fucking idiot.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps crying, and I hold her through it.

After a minute, I guide her over to the bed, and we settle in. She wipes at her face, sniffling, and I wait, letting her take her time.

Finally, I ask, “What happened last night?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, wiping at her damp cheeks before finally looking up at me. Her voice is quiet, shaky.

“It was fine at first” she starts. “Obviously I was so happy for you, then you’s got up and left after Chris did.” She trails off, taking another breath.

“Then Chris came back with them.”

I already know exactly who she means.

“Christina and Rachel” I say, and she nods, pressing her lips together like even saying the name makes her sick.

“Chris kinda insinuated to Matt about them two catching up.. Nate and I felt awkward, so we went and did two shots and when we came back Matt and Chris were gone, it was just Rachel and Christina in the booth.” She says, staring blankly across the room.

“I mean, I knew things had happened between them before, but Matt told me.. he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since..” She pauses, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying to stop fresh tears from falling. “Since that night in the house. And Vegas was after that, so I didn’t think, I hoped, nothing happened. But the second she started talking, I just knew.”

She clenches her fists in her lap, shaking her head.

“She was smug. She kept making these little comments, insinuating that they were a thing. And when I asked her outright how Vegas was, she just smirked and said “WhAt HaPpEnS iN vEgAs StAyS iN vEgas.”

My jaw tightens.

“That was it for me” she says. “I didn’t want to be there anymore. I knew if I stayed, I’d just get more upset, and I didn’t want to make a scene. I just needed to leave.”

She looks at me with tired, blood shot eyes.

“Nate asked if I was okay, and I told him it was just a weird situation, but.. the truth is, it wasn’t just weird. It hurt.” She pauses. “I don’t think anything happened in Vegas.. Well, I didn’t. But the fact that she’s still here, still acting like she has some claim over him, and the fact that he-” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard before continuing. “That he let it happen? That he didn’t even try to stop it? It just made me feel like a fool.”

I shake my head, anger building in my chest.

“You’re not a fool.” I tell her firmly. “He is.”

She gives me a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Me and Nate ended up leaving then, he didn’t want to stay either” she says. “I didn’t even say goodbye to Matt, but at that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

I nod. “Was anything said at all?”

She sighs. “Nope, when we got back to the villa. I checked my phone, hoping stupidly that maybe Matt had messaged me. I know he’d seen I left. I just hoped that he’d care.”

Her voice wavers on those last two words, and I clench my fists.

“But there was nothing” she whispers. “Not a single message. Not a bit of concern. And I just, got so angry because I knew why I was angry. Because I care. Because I have feelings for him.”

She blinks, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“So I turned my phone off and went to bed, hoping that if I slept, the night would be over faster.”

I take a deep breath, letting everything she just told me sink in. I already was mad, but now? Now I’m fucking fuming.

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I'm going to say it again, but Matt’s a fucking idiot” I mutter.

She lets out a small, sad laugh. “Yeah. He is.”

I pull her in again, letting her rest against me.

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing my face. “I feel awful for not being there for you last night” I admit, my voice heavy with guilt.

Y/n immediately shakes her head. “No, don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were living your life which you deserve, you were oblivious to everything.” She sniffles.

I lean my head back against the headboard, exhaling sharply. “Well, this whole situation has officially shocked me into being completely sober.”

That earns a small giggle from her, and I smile, relieved to see even the tiniest bit of light return to her eyes.

I tilt my head, looking at her. “Do you want me to stay in here for a bit?”

She hesitates for a second before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d like to be on my own for a little while.”

I nod, respecting her space. “Okay. But if you need anything, I mean it, Y/n, just come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nick.”

I squeeze her hand one last time before getting up, heading for the door. Before I step out, I glance back at her, still curled up in bed, her eyes staring off at nothing.

I want to fix this for her. I want to fix Matt. But for now, the only thing I can do is be here for her.

So I leave her room, closing the door gently behind me, and head to my own.

Y/n’s POV

I drag myself off of my bed to  push open the balcony door, letting the early morning air into my room. I feel like I’m suffocating in here, like the walls are closing in on me.

I crawl back into bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. Numbness settles over me, and I let it. I don’t know how long I lie there, my mind running in endless circles, but it must be at least an hour.

Then, faintly, I hear voices outside on the patio. My ears perk up at the low tones, one voice sharper than the other.

Nate and Chris.

I don’t move, barely breathing as I listen.

Nate’s voice is quiet, laced with disbelief. “I just don’t get it, man.”

Chris sighs. “What?”

“This whole thing. I came home with Y/n last night, and I thought-” He pauses, like he’s still processing it. “I thought Matt was different with her. That he actually gave a shit.”

Chris exhales, and I hear the scrape of a chair moving. “I don’t know what the fuck is going if I’m honest.”

Then followed by a pause.

“The girls are leaving soon” Chris says after a moment, his voice more certain. “I told them they have to go.”

Girls? So that means Rachel is in the villa, too.

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. The thoughts of the four of them being in that booth all night. It’s not the four it should’ve been.

“Good” Nate finally says, though his voice is distant, still caught up in his thoughts. “That’s good.”

Neither of them says anything after that, just the occasional sound of movement. I don’t know what to do with any of this. Do I go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t hear? Do I stay curled up in bed and wait for them to leave?

I don’t know.

All I do know is that I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hear the girls voices outside, light and carefree, like they have no idea the storm they’ve left behind.

They laugh, saying their goodbyes, talking about how much fun they had. Christina’s voice is the loudest, going on about how this trip is "so needed." Rachel thanks Chris for having them over last night, her tone full of gratitude, like this was just some casual getaway and not the disaster it turned into.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back at our hotel” Rachel says smoothly.

Chris responds almost too casually, “Yeah, do that. Hopefully, we can meet later. One on one.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the sting in my chest. Of course. Of course, he’s already setting up another meetup, like none of this meant anything. Like bringing them here, ruining everything, was just some minor inconvenience.

How long are they even here for?

I hear the shuffle of movement. I hear Christina giggle, making some passing comment about how wild the night was, and then the sound of the front door closing.

They’re gone.

But the mess they left behind? That’s still here.

I should feel relieved, but all I feel is exhausted.

I don’t move from my bed for the rest of the day. Not for food, not for water. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. My mind replays every moment, every touch, every look, every promise Matt ever gave me.

Was it all fake?

Did he ever mean any of it?

Or was his plan to play with me all along?

I feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. I let myself believe in something real. I let myself believe in him. And now, I’m left here, in this bed, in this villa, drowning in the realization that I was just another girl to him. Another meaningless moment in his never ending cycle of self sabotage.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I’ve cried enough.

Instead, I just lay here. Empty.

Four more days in this place. Four more days of agony, of being in the same space as Matt, of pretending I don’t care when it’s eating me alive. Within the last 10 days, everything felt different, full of excitement, possibility. Now, it feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

It’s confusing. All of it. The way he looked at me before, the way he made me feel like I mattered. And now? Now he’s just another person who’s shown me that words mean nothing. That promises are empty.

But one thing is clear.

I don’t want to speak to Matt again.

a/n : GET HIM NICK GET HIM (dw any questions you may have will be answered)

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[kiyoomiee]

Your bestfriend, Yuuji’s older half-brother Sukuna, who always had this grudge towards you and you can’t pinpoint why.

You first met him during summer break. Your couldn’t keep up with your dorm fees anymore and happened to mention it to Yuuji one time.

“You could stay with me! I have a spare room nobody’s using.”

“Are you sure Yuuji? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t even have to pay rent or anything.”

A home that’s close to uni and has no fees? It was heaven sent for a broke college student!

“That’s the last of them. Thank you Yuuji, I really appreciate the help. If there’s anything I could do around here just let me know.” You told him after dropping your stacking your last moving box into your new room.

“No problem. Just a heads up though, my brother also lives with me. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, it’s fine with me.” Your famous last words.

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

“Sukuna can be..difficult sometimes. But it’d be nice if you two would be friends. If not, ehh, just avoid him if you can.”

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

To say that Sukuna had a bad day at the tattoo shop was an understatement. His new assistant never arrived, he was dealing with a shit client plus, his ink almost ran out.

His frustration echoed throughout the two-storey house when he slammed the front door shut.

He was confused by the smell coming from the kitchen as he walked in. Is Yuuji cooking? Nah, his idiot brother would burn the house down if he even tried to get near the kitchen.

Instead, he finds a woman’s figure busy behind the kitchen counter. It made him stop his tracks.

Beautiful, he thought. But too young for Sukuna’s taste. Plus, he doesn’t like it when a stranger touches his favorite spot in the house.

So great, his bad day is about to become worse.

“Who. The. Fuck. Are you?” You almost screamed when your eyes went to the man that appeared behind you.

He looked similar to Yuuji, but the aura was very different. His build was larger, jaw sharper, and he had looked furious.

Oh, he must be Yuuji’s brother, Sukuna. You tensed up unintentionally while his eyes wandered on what you’re wearing.

“You one of Yuuji’s girls? I told him not to bring his hookups here.” He uttered, eyes not leaving yours.

You wore a tank top with cotton pajama shorts. You looked too comfortable just to be visiting.

“No! I-I’m Yuuji’s friend. It’s nice to meet you.” You said nervously.

“Can’t say the same sweetheart. I’m not so fond of strangers in my house. So open the front door and walk outside.”

What? Is he kicking you out?

“Wait! Yuuji didn’t tell you? He allowed me to stay at the spare room down the hall.”

“He what?” Sukuna was fuming. Every step he took closer to you looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“YUUJI!” His voice thundered all over the house.

“I-I think he’s sleeping in his room.” You winced at the string of curses that came out of his mouth.

“Whatever conversation you had with my dumb brother, it’s not happening. You can’t stay here.”

“But it’s the start of the semester, I can’t find a new dorm in a snap!”

“You shouting at me, girl?”

“N-No, I mean-just please, I can take care of the house. I can even cook for you. I can’t afford to leave, not right now.”

Before Sukuna could open his mouth, Yuuji’s footsteps rang out from the stairs.

“Sukuna, you’re back! Wait, did something happen?” Yuuji looks at your nervous face.

“Yeah we’ve met alright.” Sukuna muttered, arms crossing to his chest.

“Yuuji, your brother’s kicking me out.” You tried to hide behind Yuuji’s form.

“What? You can’t kick her out!”

“I can because it’s my goddamn house. If don’t want some girl in here, she’s got to go.”

“You can’t! To be fair, I did tell you that my friend’s staying with us for a while and you agreed.”

Yeah he did agree but he thought that black haired kid was moving in, not you.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Sukuna exclaimed and you could tell he’s about to lose it.

“I’ll stay out of your way all the time, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m here.” You pleaded him.

“Yeah, I doubt that. Clean up your damn mess.” He said harshly and glared at you before stomping his way upstairs.

“I’m so sorry. My brother’s not so good at making first impressions.” Yuuji pouted.

He’s an asshole, you wanted to say.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad he didn’t kick me out.” You exhaled in relief.

If that was his reaction during your first meeting then what about the upcoming months?

“He won’t. I’m sure you’ll grow on him, you kinda have that effect on people.” Yuuji tried to cheer you up but you just gave him a faint smile.

Yeah, somehow you doubt that would work on Sukuna.

——————————————————

note: Sukuna is 29 in this fic and your age gap is 6 years. I don’t like doing age gap with minors, so just think that everyone in this fic are 18+.

[midnightsnyx]

come back home - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x reader warnings: angst with a hint of fluff word count: 879 requested: yes / no author note: i have like a million other projects i need to write but i just need to get my sad feelings out so yeah, sorry lol masterlist requests are open

It’s quiet when you step in to the apartment you and Jack shared which wasn’t unusual in the past few months. Quiet was how the two of you lived lately. Tip toeing around each other as if you were walking on egg shells.

Part of you was tired of it and asked yourself if it was really worth it. But the other part of you wasn’t sure if you knew how to live without him anymore and that thought alone scared you. It made you realize how much you had grown to depend on him.

You hear his voice before you see him.

“You’re home.”

His voice is hoarse and you know that he just woke up from a nap. His ruffled appearance confirms it when he meets you in the living room.

“Yeah,” you whisper, staring at the floorboards. You hadn’t been home for days - not since the fight the two of you had. Your best friend let you crash at her house after you told him you needed space which explains his next question.

“Why?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what made you decide to come home. Your friend had told you that you were welcome to stay as long as you needed and had even put her two cents in on the whole situation.

Her words stuck with you since you broke down and told her everything that had been going on.

“He may love you. He probably does… or at least he maybe thinks he does. But that’s not what matters, sweetie. What matters is what he is doing to show you that he does and right now… he isn’t doing anything.” She squeezed your hand and smiled gently. “You deserve someone who goes out of their way to show you how much they care about you.”

The worst part was that she was right. When was the last time he had went out of his way to do something for you? It made you think back to the beginning of your relationship when he treated you like you were the most important thing in his life. But you suppose that all new relationships begin like that.

You realize that he’s still staring at you intently and you try to come up with some reason you came back rather than the truth, which was that you were too dependant on him and you felt like you needed him as much as you needed air to breathe.

“Can you at least tell me one thing?” he asks after you’ve been silent for so long and all you can do is nod.

“Why did you leave?”

You don’t have to think about the answer to this question because it was something that had been haunting you for quite some time.

“I guess I started to feel like I needed you more than you needed me,” you tell him quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly.

“Look at me,” he says and you let your eyes meet his. “I love you.”

You want to believe him but your friends words keep coming back to haunt you. Did he love you or was he drunk on the idea of it? Something your mom told you a long time ago was that there is a distinct difference between loving someone and being in love with them. It’s easy to lie to yourself about loving someone but you can’t lie to yourself about being in love with them.

“How are you so sure?” you ask him.

“How could I not?” he says and you’re about to tell him that his answer isn’t good enough but he doesn’t stop there. “Baby, you’re the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I’m falling asleep at night.” He slowly walks over to you and reaches out with one hand, letting his thumb run across your cheek. “I think about your smile and your laugh and about how you are the only person I want to come home to.” You watch as he looks away from you and stares at a picture of the two of you. It’s from a trip the two of you took last summer during break. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit. You’re scared that if you let things go back to how they were before, you’ll end up back here in this exact situation. “I’m afraid that this will become a cycle and I can’t do it, Jack. I physically can’t handle that.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, he just looks at you as if you’re the only thing in the world, his world, that matters. It makes you weak in the knees and this is the Jack you fell in love with. 

“Just come home,” he whispers. “We can figure everything out. Together.”

It’s a risk, deciding to give everything another shot. To put your heart on the line. But you remember something else your mom told you once.

“The right people are worth staying for”, she had told you.

You take a deep breath and nod, hoping that you’re making the right decision.

“All right,” you tell him and he grins, kissing you for the first time in months and it feels like coming home.

[k4lenz]

big guy ✮ jschlatt x fem!reader hcs

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a/n: what up! i wrote this for my gorgeous loml best friend @plantring who definitely wasn’t holding me at gunpoint, and i’ve been meaning to write a schlatt fic for ages! so, here you go. big guy. maybe charlie next 👀 also the song was just the song i’ve been repeating and had in mind while i wrote this fic ! i hope you guys like it :)

notes: jambo, other unnamed cat referred to as ‘burnt soup’, swearing, cuddles, nicknames, twitch, wii games series, tucker keane & Ted nivison, chuckle sandwich mention, romantic, drinking, hobbies, singing, SFW, NSFW UNDER THE CUT!! , grabby schlatt /pos

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sfw hcs ˚⟡˖ ࣪

☼ toots. he calls you toots, all the time, every day. it’s either a cheesy nickname, sweets, toots, baby, sweetheart, or sugar. he’s new yorkian yk.

☾ he’ll call you them before you even start dating, just to watch your cheeks flush pink and lips fall agape. the image ingrained in his mind permanently.

☼ such a flirt, before you start dating. he’ll make a wild joke to nobody in particular when you’re with friends, noticing how everybody will laugh but yours is hoarse. watching you squirm in your seat as he lets out a little chuckle, is how he gathers you like him.

☾ you’re the flirtiest friends, and everyone can see it but you two.

☼ maybe your mutual point of realisation is at his house, when he complains about shaving and you offer to shave his chops. “y’better not fuck this up, lady. these are the money bags.” he’d tease, making you laugh. you sit on his lap, claiming it’s for ‘better access’ as you clean up his face.

☾ like i said with ted, schlatt’s also a romantic. maybe a little more old school, but definitely romantic. he’d ask you out on a date first, with pretty flowers and that charming fucking smile. then ask you to be his girlfriend. what? he isn’t a pussy.

☼ if you two don’t live together, he likes seeing you in his space more. he can’t quite describe why, maybe it’s just waking up with you tangled in his sheets in his bed in his room with his cats cuddling up next to you like you’ve been there forever.

☾ speaking of the cats, they’ve picked you over him. if you both call their names at the same time, both the cats will come running to you as if schlatt isn’t even there.

☼ “what the fuck?” he mutters, picking up jambo. “i pay for your food, house you, give you love and attention. and this is how you repay me, shithead? huh? by picking her over me? fuck you!” he frowns, holding jambo up as the orange cat simply meows in response. jambo’s paw finds his nose, and schlatt’s eyes glance at you. seeing you giggling as you cuddled burnt soup like a baby. “you too, you fuckin’ traitor.” he proclaims, pointing at the purring black cat in your hands who’s giving him the cutest stare ever.

☾ huh, kind of reminds him of you.

☼ if you have a pet too, even better.

☾ got a cat? he’ll try and make your cat love him more then you. it doesn’t work, but if you comment he’ll say it’s a work in progress. insists on feeding it every time he’s at your house, probably figures out some sort of nickname for your kitty. cuddles it every chance he gets.

☼ got a dog? he’ll pretend he doesn’t like it, call it dopey since he’s always proclaiming he doesn’t like dogs. but you catch him babying and cuddling your dog when he thinks you’re not around too often to believe him.

☾ best believe jambo and burnt soup will get mad at him when he comes home with another animal’s smell on him, but never get mad at you. he’s such a softie for pets.

☼ schlatt was quite the private man, not a very big fan of making things public on the internet. he knew how people could be. he wouldn’t want to expose you to that, at least not until he was sure you’d be okay with it and you’d been in a relationship for a while.

☾ didn’t mean he couldn’t leave a few subtle messages for his chat, though. maybe a pair of pink slippers on his floor or some jewellery. when chat would notice and spam, he’d smirk.

☼ “what, chat? th’re obviously mine.” he chuckled. gaslighting his twitch as much as he could. if you asked, he’d say it was an accident and he didn’t notice. he’s a good liar to everyone but you.

☾ after a while, he’d open the idea up to you. whether it be a stream, or a youtube video where he can blur your face. but he has one rule.

☼ wii games. he wants to bring back wii games.

☾ and of course since you’re both equally competitive fucks, it turns into a laughing, yelling and tackling match as you both play every wii game imaginable. spewing insults at each other when the other misses in wii tennis, bickering like an elderly couple, screaming and cheering in victory. him claiming he let you win.

☼ “if you win anythin’, that is.” he’d murmur with that dumb grin.

☾ which you reply to with a string of curses and insults

☼ he couldn’t imagine anything more hilarious. plus click bait.

☾ he brings you to chuckle week (RIP CHUCKLE FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS </3) and you all decide to play some of the board games that look like they’re collecting dust in the airBNB you all are staying in.

☼ scrabble? you and schlatt team, ted and tucker team, and you practically knock them off the fucking board. guess who? they’re cooked. uno? reverse. chess? checkmate. you’re winning every time, together for once, and giggling about it too.

☾ “connect 4!” schlatt bellowed, as you two won at yet another game. you sat at the dining table of the airbnb, sitting opposite each other in pairs playing another dusty game. “what the fuck? you two are cheating or some shit.” ted huffs and tucker shakes his head and laughs, with you and schlatt cuddled up with your manic grins and wins in every game under your belt.

☼ turns out putting two competitive (crazy, as tucker calls you) people on a team works.

☾ let’s just say no matter who you’re playing with, you two always win game night.

☼ schlatt will pretend that he doesn’t like whatever hobby you have, playfully rolling his eyes, but if you catch him marvelling at you doing said hobby? no you didn’t.

☾ he’ll let you drag him wherever, but not without complaints. he’ll hold your hand wherever, never let you pay whenever you go out.

☼ “that’s silly.” he’d argue, pushing your card away. “christ, woman. ’m gonna have to fuckin’ confiscate your card ‘n replace it with my own soon.”

☾ he’ll hold you whenever, especially if you like it. whether it be his arm around your shoulders, on your waist, or maybe even a hand in your back pocket

☼ especially in crowds, he’s got you close so you can get through it to where you need to go. he’d hate to lose you in a crowd, not a chance.

☾ he’d get drunk, you’d try and kiss him and he’d be like “fuck off. i have a loving girlfriend.”

☼ and you’d be like “j i’m ur girlfriend.”

☾ “oh! hi girlfriend :)” and then kisses you.

☼ tries to act tough but he’s such a big softie at heart.

☾ he also gets jealous if he catches anyone simply just glancing at you, big 6”4 boy just gives them a simple look

☼ “achlatt! that guy was literally just doing his job.” “don’t give a fuck, y’re my girlfriend. no need for him t’be so cheery to ya.” but he’d also be annoyed if they weren’t nice to you.

☾ sometimes, you’ll catch him cooking and singing to himself as he plays music on a speaker. some glen campbell, maybe arctic monkeys. but he gets embarrassed, despite literally having a christmas album and a real good voice.

☼ “i don’t sing, sugar.” schlatt would argue, food cooking and arms wrapped around your waist as you two gently swayed to the music playing in his kitchen.

☾ a lie that was, you called bullshit

☼ and you’d both sing to whatever was on the speaker, laughing and just holding each other close as you two danced properly. spinning you, dipping you. his hair messy, a look of admiration on his face. no matter how uncoordinated you two were, it was right in your eyes.

☾ same thing i said about ted goes, big broad tall man mmmmm

☼ gives the best cuddles

☾ got plushies in your room? he’ll buy you more, and have fake beef with them. rolling his eyes if you argue that they’re your children.

☼ deep down he knows he loves them

☾ and you

☼ mostly you

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nsfw hcs ˚⟡˖ ࣪

☼ he’s such a sweetheart in bed

☾ bitey bitey man. he can’t sit still for long

☼ as long as you’re in the privacy of your own home, whatever you’re doing, bet that his lips will be finding your neck.

☾ “can’t help it. taste too good.” he’d complain if you’d whine, that stupid shit eating grin on his gorgeous face. his hands on your hips, and his mouth leaving pinks, purples and reds that he knew you’d have to cover up tomorrow for work.

☼ he’s whipped. absolutely fucking whipped. pussy whipped.

☾ he’d do anything you asked, especially if you were promising to let him fuck you the minute you got through the door of either of your houses.

☼ horny motherfucker.

☾ in terms of oral, he loves giving and receiving equally

☼ watching you tremble underneath him as he hooks your thighs onto his shoulders and messily eats your pussy, sucking on your clit like it’s his last meal and he’s a starving man. his hands squeezing said thighs as you writhe, eyes watching your every reaction. impossibly harder at your every noise.

☾ and then also, “i didn’t say hover, sweetheart, i said sit.” making you sit on his face, pulling your hips down with his arms tucked under your thighs. devouring you and your perfect fucking cunt.

☼ pulling away later, lips and chops covered in your cum. licking his lips. “light as a fuckin’ feather, baby. don’t know what’cha talkin about.” if you were to ask if you were too heavy.

☾ but then also

☼ running his fingers through your hair as he looked down at you, on your knees so prettily for him. soft groans and sighs coming from his lips, eyes lidded, as you sucked his cock and looked up at him with lust. watching you wrap your lips around it inbetween his legs. tracing your tongue along the veins. pulling your hair, but never too hard: god, he was absolutely feral.

☾ he’s definitely dominant, but he isn’t harsh. he couldn’t stand seeing you hurt. like i said, he’s a softie.

☼ prefers to be face to face, but i feel like he’d really like back shots. simply to grab at your ass, watch the curve of your back arch as he fucked you good. leaving bites along your back as well, leaning over and leaving some on your shoulder.

☾ classic missionary, or you on his lap, are also his favourites. but he’s open to try other things with you, most definitely.

☼ he loves his woman, he really does. and he’d do anything to make sure you’re happy, always give you good loving. he’d hate to ever leave you without.

☾ him getting tipsy makes him even more desperate to please. even more desperate for you. but even sober, he always is

☼ rutting his hips into you, a little drunk as you combed your fingers through his hair “mmm. mine, sweets. god.” he’d grunt, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he fucked you perfectly. “need y’so f’ckin bad.”

☾ you flash him during an argument? it’s over as quick as it started. you were right, obviously. he’s following you like a dumb puppy again.

☼ would definitely turn around your plushies during sex. and also lock out the cats.

☾ when you two would unlock the door and come back out to the cats whining, your legs a bit wobbly, or maybe even unable to walk on your own at all, he’d pat the cats and smirk.

☼ “sorry, little shits. y’r mom needed some lovin instead.” he’d coo as you playfully shove him. a chuckle coming from his lips.

☾ he’s a very touchy grabby guy, whether it be your tits, thighs, your ass. he loves it.

☼ he’d get needy, and make it clear. it would never take him long to tell you if he was feeling needy, or he’d show it simply by picking you up or being close to you. it wasn’t hard to tell, and you’d be fucking within minutes.

☾ and if you’re needy? god, he relishes in it. teasing you, maybe even leaving you on the edge of orgasm over and over until your eventually sweet release. depends on how cruel he’s feeling. or maybe touching you, but not enough, just enough to make your hips jerk but not enough to build up anything. he loved the sound of your whiny frustration.

☼ yeah. he wants you. so bad. all the time.

[daryltwdixon]

would love a fluffy au of the reader helping sarah or elle with their first period since joel called and didn’t know what to do☺️

Joel Miller x Reader drabble

Fluffy domestic Jackson!Joel, established relationship but early on, living separately, maybe a little silly okay but how cute would it be if there were walkies between houses in Jackson? obvi no cell phones or landlines sooo. yeah. I saw this come in and immediately thought of this so I stayed up late to write it for you !! hope you enjoy I had the best time writing it

"Uh, b-baby? You there?”

The crackly voice startles you. The walkie-talkie sits on the windowsill above the sink, right next to the pile of grimy dishes you’ve been scrubbing after days of letting them pile up. You fumble for it, wiping your wet hand on your jeans before pressing the button.

"Yeah? What is it?" you ask, one hand holding it up to your ear while the other continues scrubbing half heartedly.

The walkie goes static for a second before he finally says, "We have kinda a, uh... an emergency. How fast can you get here?"

An emergency?

Your heart kicks up, stomach flipping as you immediately set the dish down, water sloshing over the edge of the sink.

Joel never calls things an "emergency."

"I'm on my way!" you say immediately pushing the walkie back on the counter, barely remembering to grab your keys as you bolt for the door. The hinges groan as you shove it open, the wooden porch creaking beneath your hurried steps.

Joel's front door comes into view, and you don’t even slow down before pushing inside.

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” you pant, grabbing Joel’s face with both hands. He’s standing against the kitchen counter, brows drawn together and lips pressed into a hard line. His skin is clammy, his usually steady eyes darting around like he’s seen some real shit.

“Yeah, I—I’m fine. It ain't me,” he stammers, blinking at you like he's just survived a war zone.

Your stomach tightens. “Ellie?”

"She's upstairs," he nods toward the hallway, big brown eyes pleading with you to fix whatever horror he's just endured.

What the hell was going on? And why was he acting like he’d seen a goddamn ghost?

You drop your hands, press a quick, reassuring kiss to the tip of his nose (which earns you the tiniest exhale of relief from him), and sprint up the stairs two at a time.

The bathroom light spills from under the door at the end of the hall.

"El?" you call softly, knocking lightly.

The door flies open so fast you nearly stumble inside.

“Oh, thank god,” Ellie sighs dramatically, yanking you in like you’re her lifeline.

When the door closes behind you, you scan her up and down—no blood, no injuries, no immediate threats. She’s fine.

Your pulse is still hammering. “What’s going on?!” you hiss, glancing around like you’re expecting a Clicker to drop from the ceiling.

Ellie groans, dragging her hands down her face. “What did Joel say? Did he freak you out? You look terrible!”

“He said it was an emergency!”

"An emergen—oh dear god, that poor old man."

"Ellie! Just tell me what's going on!"

She lifts her hands and declares with all the seriousness of someone admitting to a crime, “I think I got my period. It's the first...first time."

For a moment, you just stare at her.

Then, the tension in your chest unspools all at once, and a breathless, incredulous laugh tumbles out of you before you can stop it.

“Oh, thank god.”

Your knees nearly give out as you clutch the edge of the sink, the sheer relief of it washing over you.

Ellie narrows her eyes. “That’s a...weird reaction.”

“I thought you were, I don’t know, dying? Missing a limb? Held hostage?” You shake your head, still giggling as you rub your face.

Ellie waves a hand. “I am bleeding out.”

"Ellie."

She smirks. "But, like, in a totally normal way."

Another wave of laughter hits you, and suddenly, you can’t stop. "Jesus. Christ." you say through giggles, "I thought something had attacked you. Joel sounded like he was reporting a goddamn homicide!"

Ellie grins. “Yeah, he freaked the hell out.”

"What did he do?"

“Well,” Ellie says, holding up one finger, “first I stood up off the couch, and he saw the blood on my pants--stared at it like it was brain matter. Then he gulped—you know that thing he does? When his whole Adam’s apple bobs?”

You bite back more giggles, nodding. "Oh yeah, I know the look."

“Then he left the room, paced the hall for five minutes, came back, opened his mouth, closed it, and then offered me... a sock.”

You lose it.

Your laugh is immediate and uncontrollable, your head falling back as you clutch your stomach. "Oh my god."

Ellie grins. “I told him I wasn’t stuffing a dirty sock in my pants, and he just kinda stared at me! Then said, she drops her voice real low, mimicking his Texan drawl, “‘...I’ll call her.’”

That sets you off again, laughing so hard you double over.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze. “I have never loved that man more.”

Ellie, still unamused, huffs. “Are you done?”

You wipe at your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s raid my stash.”

Ellie smirks. “What do we do about the old man downstairs?”

You groan. "I'll sort him out later. First, let’s let him know you’re perfectly alive and well. Then I’ll sit him down and tell him aaalllllll about women’s hygiene. Should be a blast."

Ellie groans. “Ugh, gross.”

You grin, pulling her into a reassuring side hug, warmth settling deep in your chest despite the ridiculousness of it all.

Joel Miller: Texas tough, apocalypse survivor, undone by a little bit of blood from a teenage girl.

[elodieunderglass]

Would you like to be sent other people's Killie headcanons? I wasn't sure if that would be welcome or like stealing your toys.

(Killie the jockey oc)

Thank you so much for asking! I’m going to say something wild - that it’s fine if you understand the risks and agree to the conditions. Sorry for writing an essay about the conditions, but it interested me a lot - I want to welcome this spirit, and am also conscious that published authors don’t do this (however, I don’t want their job.)

Long story short: you can, but it’s not legally advisable, but fuck it, we ball.

Grownups share toys, and Killie exists to be rotated - and, when he achieves sufficient velocity, thrown briskly into an obstacle. Sharing this burden with others pleases me. I’ve already said an emphatic GO AHEAD to fanart and AU fanfic, so worrying about this too much would be a case of shutting the barn door after the horse has eaten it. We do a lot of riffing and yes-anding each other, which is the ENTIRE fun of talking about Killie, and is the ONLY reason he’d get a book anyway. And my approach to intellectual property is more collaborative-Goncharov than the inciting published-authors-shouldn’t-read-fic-incident (1990s drama with Marion Zimmer Bradley.)

Killie’s intended to have a little self-published, non-commercial book that isn’t written yet. If I was already planning to do something similar to your ideas, it might lead to awkwardness for both of us. I’m not saying it would - we are too mature and kind - but that’s the risk I don’t want you to take unknowingly. I do mean to create 1 piece of fixed canon material (plan for that here), for which I plan to charge sufficient money to reimburse the cost of the editor I plan to hire for it. So you would have to decide whether you’d like to risk your headcanon being canon. I will say upfront that there is zero risk of Killie being commercially viable (CAN YOU IMAGINE) so there’s no chance of anyone (including myself) getting paid for anything; it’s more about the idea of intellectual property. Your headcanons belong to you, and by kindly sharing them with someone who hasn’t written the canon yet, you risk a lot more than someone writing about a closed, distant work.

You don’t need approval or permission for headcanons. You don’t need approval from anybody to enjoy them.

Of course, half the pleasure of sharing headcanons is sharing them for connection and communication ARGH.

It would be great if you could share them somewhere else, without worrying about me being involved, but Killie’s entire fandom is the 20 of us, currently housed here, in my living room.

I do want to encourage you to do that (posting without telling me/discussing with other people). you don’t need my permission, and are welcome.

But I do understand Killie’s fandom is housed in my living room at the moment. As much as I intend for him to move out in the future, ideally into a small kennel in YOUR living room, it’s very natural for current observations of him to take place in my living room.

(Could he please move into your living room, the kennel is very small)

Thus, here is my policy:

If you send me a headcanon, please understand that you are voluntarily and freely releasing your idea, in the spirit of willing sharing. There is a very slight risk that your headcanon will overlap with something in the unpublished Killie book, so you’ll have to agree that you understood this risk - and that I don’t owe you anything, if it’s similar.

If you have a very good idea that would be absolutely load-bearing, I’d like to reach out for a mutually consensual permissions statement to use it. You would have the ability to decline. Agreeing to its use would involve you getting full credit for the idea, my warm thanks for sharing it, a link to your blog in online material, the admiration of everyone reading the credits, and probably nothing else will be in my power. Payment is unlikely. Co-authorship is not on the table, as I can’t write checks I can’t cash (I.e. I can’t promise to pay someone with credit on a product that might not happen.)

submission of writing prompts is done freely in the tumblr context, and I’m going to make the formal statement that a prompt does not grant co-ownership of the resulting work. Submission does not mean co-ownership - if you submit a prompt, you’re giving me permission to use it in any way I like, with or without credit. At the moment, it’s all on tumblr and attached to usernames, but if the inspired work moves to another platform (I.e I include a comic in Killie’s book) I’ll endeavour to keep the credit to your tumblr handle. I plan to thank everyone who makes the work so possible and so delightful!

Once Killie has this completed piece of work out (working title Throw Your Heart Over) he’ll be fair game. Literally hunt him for sport with my blessing 👍

I would then put him in a hamster ball and kick him down the stairs step back a bit because I think it could be a bit oxygen-smothering when creators are TOO involved - I’d like to respond to asks, but would not want to know what people were saying elsewhere- but once moved out of my living room, Killie will no longer be my personal problem.

Death of the Author voluntarily. Pls.

I was thinking of licensing him as Creative Commons anyway, but he still needs to move out of my living room and get his own address for that. At any rate, then, it will be chill for all of us to do whatever. Intellectual property WHOMST. The only thing would be I don’t want him sold without permission.

The intention of Killie is mental freedom and growth of identity; if I hogged him all to myself, I’d break that intention, and he’d rightfully stop working for me.

In conclusion, by willingly sharing a headcanon WITH ME, you agree that you get: small but high-quality connection, engagement, my admiration, hoots of amusement, tears, maybe a comic in response.

You do not get paid, you don’t get co-authorship or have any ownership.

If your headcanon accidentally matches a canon statement that I haven’t publicly made yet, you’ll have done very well by guessing foreshadowing, but unfortunately receive nothing. Guessing canon in advance does not mean that you gave me the idea, and you have agreed that by sharing it willingly.

If your headcanon solves a plot problem, I might reach out for permission to use it, with the conditions that I can only realistically offer credit for the idea. You’ll have the right to decline, and the paper trail showing that you did.

You will have no way of knowing if I am lying, and by freely sharing headcanons, you accept that risk. (I don’t intend to steal and lie - I’m a goddamn grownup with a day job, I think we’re friendly and trust each other, I’m writing a novel as a present to you, specifically, @thethirdromana - but the risk can’t be ignored.)

If you share your headcanon with other people, I don’t need to know, and don’t need to be invited.

Once Killie’s published, you can eat him for breakfast.

Hope this all makes sense, and I’m sure published authors would be gnawing their nails in horror reading this, which they won’t, because it’s 20 people in my living room and won’t make any money.

Regardless of what you choose to do, I cannot thank you enough for joining me, sharing your heart and attention, and for the gift of your support.

[callme-holly]

Could you do a Darry x reader where shes just like super fidgety and he pulls her into his lap to calm her down

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 [𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: short one today y'all!! really sorry but my head is all over the place rn

The house had finally begun to settle, the silence much welcome after hours of pure chaos and steadily unfurling anxiety; the boys had long since wound down, their wounds from the rumble patched, all of them sprawled out in various states around the room, sound asleep. Yet, despite them being safe and content under the same roof as you, you still couldn’t seem to relax yourself. Your heart was still thumping wildly, mind clouded slightly with fear and the what-ifs that had swirled around in your brain since the moment they’d left. 

Your hands wrung absentmindedly in your lap, nails picking at your skin, blood beading slightly at the surface. It wasn’t an intentional infliction, just something for your hands to do. You never were consciously aware of what you were doing, much like now, until Darry grabbed your hands gently in his much larger ones, his skin rough in contrast to yours. 

“Don’t do that,” he mumbles, keeping his tone low—his voice is rough from all the shouting he’d no doubt done earlier, and it sends an involuntary shiver through you. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You don’t fight against him, simply lacing your fingers together, squeezing his hand gently. “Sorry…” You avert your gaze, eyes darting around the room quickly, landing on every single face around the room, almost as if reassuring yourself that they’re all there.

“Hey…” He grabbed your chin, his touch nothing but tender, turning your face slowly so that your attention is focused purely on him. His thumb grazes over your cheek, featherlight, barely there. "You're real restless tonight, darlin'. Talk to me." 

You let out a long, heavy sigh, shrugging half-heartedly; there was no easy way to say that, despite knowing that they were all here, you were still trembling with anxiety, the fear eating away at you. "I don't know... I just..." you trail off, searching his eyes for any sort of sign that he gets it without you having to say much more. 

He lets out a long, drawn breath, and before you can even comprehend what he's doing, he's tugging you into his lap, arms wrapped around you, holding you close. His hands rest on your hips, tracing idle circles on your skin. It's comforting and calming, a stark contrast to the panic still raging inside you. 

“It’s alright, you know that. Everything is fine. We’re all safe, sweetheart.” 

“I know…” you whisper, swallowing thickly, letting yourself melt against his chest. “I can’t help it, though. You were gone for hours, Darry. Forgive me for being slightly worried about you.” It comes out a little snappier than you meant it, and you’re immediately flooded with guilt, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth in apology. 

He doesn’t seem offended, though, instead chuckling softly. “You worry too much. I can handle myself. Those guys didn’t stand a chance against me.”

That draws a laugh from you, the first real, genuine laugh of the evening. “Whatever you say, tough guy. 'm just glad you're okay..."

You lean in again, and this time he meets you halfway, the kiss  chaste, soft, and tender; the tension in your body finally begins to dissipate, leaving behind nothing but a faint tingle as he pulls away from you. 

He's safe. He's here, with you... And he isn't going anywhere. 

[peachylynnie]

house edge

word count: 3.5k (making up for my absence) synopsis: in which sylus finally talks to you, alone. contains: pt 3 of blackjack, pt 2 of ace, sylus x fem!reader (non mc), moderately obsessive sylus, LOT'S OF TENSION, the twins appear, alcohol consumption, cursing, weapons, violence (death, mentions of suicide), and references to gambling. a/n: house edge refers to the odds advantage in the house/dealer's favor. haha this totally isn't late haha. i'm back in school and wifi sucks so this took awhile. i still hope you enjoy. reblogs and comments are always appreciated. lmk if you want to be tagged for the rest of the series. tagged: @sprout341 @miffysoo previous chapter | lads masterlist | next chapter

before he can savor that addictive look on your face (he couldn't care less about the cards), sylus' phone rings.

"tch," he clicks his tongue, ready to decline whoever's interrupting his moment with you.

however, his brows furrow upon reading who's calling.

the twins.

sylus curses under his breath as he stands up. he can't reject their call. he's made it clear to them that they should call only when it's important.

"i'll get back to you on my wager soon, gentlemen," he says as he strides towards the door, ignoring sherman and his lackey's frantic attempts at a compromise. "sweetie," he nods at you, brings the phone to his ear, and steps out of the lounge.

as sherman and his lackey lunge for sylus' cards to search for signs of foul play, you frown at the door he just closed.

this guy. he's no ordinary guy. of course, you knew that when your handler stationed you here. he's the head of onychinus for fuck's sake, the infamous person who runs the infamous faction that runs the infamous n109 zone. but seriously? anyone in their right mind would stay after seeing the hands on the table, especially after a whole night of losing. your handler emphasized that despite how much the rumors about him vary, they all point to him being a cunning man, capable of bringing a rival faction to their knees in less than a day. 

it’s not like he’s a gambling addict either. you’ve seen your fair share of them, and they all have this crazed look in their eyes. but no, this fucker gave you the most smug look before tapping the table. it's almost as if he knew he was going to win.

"hey, we need you at the bar," your one-day manager calls for you. "lounge's closing in five minutes."

"yeah," you exhale a deep breath. you need to calm down. it’s bad enough you lost your composure (in front of the head of onychinus of all people). for now you’ll focus on what’s important: no longer the commission but getting out of here. as soon as the last cup is put away, you’ll ring for transportation and book it. 

"goodnight gentlemen," you step away from the table. sherman and his lackey stand up in pursuit. "i would advise against any attempts at violence," you say as politely as you can. "this is a lounge, after all. one that is closing too. have some tact, will you?"

and with that, you walk towards the bar, paying no mind to their insulted faces. if they still decide to follow you, you'll use your evol to the max. you can’t afford to care about anyone who’s within fifty meters anymore. every additional second spent here is jeopardizing your chances of escaping sylus qin. did you see that nod? he's nowhere near done with you.

luckily, you don't hear footsteps chasing you. once you reach the bar, you quickly scan the lounge before collecting the empty glasses. 

all seemed well for a moment. there were little signs of your one-day manager assigning you more tasks. there were many signs of sherman and his lackey waltzing out. most importantly, there was every sign of you finishing your task, meaning you could soon leave without running into a certain silver-haired man.

however, there were no signs of sherman's gun on the table.

♢♢♢♢♢

it's raining by the time sylus leans back against an alleyway, a hand in his pocket and a foot against the wall.

"speak."

"hey boss!" luke and kieran greet simultaneously through the phone.

"you'll never guess what we found out," the older chirps.

"idiot, he's the one who sent us here," the younger reminds.

"what did you just call me?!"

"cut to the chase," sylus snaps. "i'm in a hurry right now." he is very much in a hurry right now, damn it. every additional second spent here is jeopardizing his chances of seizing you, having you. he needs to get back to the lounge as soon as possible. he needs to see you, talk to you, squeeze out of you that enticing look you had on your face less than five minutes ago.

"woah there, boss. is everything okay? you sound tense," luke asks.

sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge. "yes, everything is fine, luke. thanks for asking." he glances at the rain-covered window across from him to see if you're still at the table. he frowns when he doesn't see you. "did you confirm what i asked you to?"

"yes," kieran answers, earning a grumble from his twin about his stolen thunder. "there are no authentic protocores here at sherman's warehouse. actually, there are no protocores here at all."

"seems like he was trying to strike us a deal with nothing," luke pipes in.

"how disappointing," sylus chuckles drily. "not surprising, though."

"should we go after him, boss?" the twins excitedly suggest at the same time.

"no need," sylus peels himself off the wall and moves over to the window for a better view. "i'll take care of him myself," he assures as he wipes the glass. he's delighted to find you at the bar drying a glass while sherman and his lackey make their way towards the exit, which leads right into the alleyway he's in. "in fact, i'll take care of him right now."

and with that, he hangs up the call. right on cue, sherman and his lackey step out of the lounge, their faces twisted with frustration from all the losses they experienced tonight. however, their faces immediately morph into fear upon seeing the head of onychinus.

"gentlemen," sylus smirks as he pockets his phone. "i just heard something very interesting."

in a blink of an eye, bloody, inky wisps wrap around the two men's necks and slam them into the wall. the very wall the feared man was leaning on moments ago. how unfortunate.

"w-wait," sherman chokes out. "let's t-talk about t-this."

"what could there possibly be to talk about, sherman?" sylus mocks with crossed arms. "surely not the fact that you tried to deal me not even fake protocores but none at all?"

one would find it difficult to determine if the two men were going pale from the lack of air or the abundance of fear. perhaps both. how unfortunate.

"no matter," sylus shakes his head. "let's talk about my wager instead, shall we?"

the air shifts as his evol tightens around sherman and his lackey's necks. the crimson and ivory tendrils rampage faster and faster, signaling for a brutal execution to come, a signature move every bastard in the n109 zone is aware of. however, the dreaded crushing and disintegration of flesh never comes. seizing this chance, sherman desperately searches for something in his pocket. 

“looking for this?” 

his eyes widen upon seeing his gun in sylus’ hand. 

nobody, not a single one of you, noticed him swipe the gun before leaving. 

“now, about my wager,” sylus cocks the gun. “how about your lives?” he aims at the drenched forehead of its owner. “surely it’s the least both of you can do after trying to trick me.” he places a finger on the trigger. “again.”

before sherman can open his pathetic mouth, sylus pulls the trigger, a glorious bang ringing through the rainy night sky. he doesn’t give the lackey a chance to mourn. instead, he gives him the same fate as his employer: a bullet lodged deep into his skull. not a single one of them was worth his evol. 

wiping the blood off his cheek, sylus tuts. “felled by your own gun.” he releases his evol. “how unfortunate.” 

after chucking the gun on the floor, he approaches the entrance of the lounge. he doesn’t have time to clean up the corpses. he’ll just escort you out another way (yes, this man plans to accompany you wherever you go after tonight). unable to hide his frenzied smile, he grips the door handle and steps in. 

♢♢♢♢♢

the brief pitter-patter of rain let in by the door should’ve been your first sign to hightail it out of here. the silver-haired man who’s currently seated at the bar with an elbow planted should’ve been your second. the red hungry eyes trailing over your figure most definitely should’ve been your third. 

but you’re too busy drying the glasses with your back turned. big mistake. 

“a glass of gin fizz, please.”

you still.

“make that two, actually,” he adds. 

you don’t turn around. you don’t dare to. instead, you slowly grab the last glass, prepared to put it away. 

“i’m afraid the lounge is closed, mr. sylus,” you counter gracefully. 

the man chuckles, leaning back in the stool. “surely this lounge can make an exception for the head of onychinus.”

“of course!” your manager dashes out of the employees' room, eager to earn the lounge additional funds. “what are you doing?!” she scolds you with what she thinks is your name. you’re thankful you have an alias tonight because the idea of sylus knowing your identity turns your stomach, which you’re sure is what he’s trying to do by ordering two glasses past closing time. “pour him a glass of gin fizz!” she instructs and dashes back into the employees’ room. you resist the urge to curse when you hear the employees’ entrance lock, meaning she clocked out for the night, meaning it was just you and sylus. couldn’t she have just made the drinks herself if she wanted the additional funds that badly?

exhaling deeply, you use the glass in your hand to scoop up some ice. no point in resisting. last thing you want is for your handler to nag you for not cooperating with the client’s staff, especially when you already gave up on the commission. might as well just get this over with.

“i wouldn’t scoop the ice first if i were you, sweetie,” sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. “it’ll dilute the alcohol.”

you don’t say anything. you just grab a bottle of gin and pour it into a jigger. your customer scoffs. 

“are you ignoring me, sweetie?”

you pour the gin into a shaker and squeeze some lemon juice. 

“if you’re upset about something, then you should tell me.”

you take out the simple syrup from the fridge and pour it into the jigger.

“how about this?” he starts. 

you add the syrup to the shaker along with three ice cubes. 

“i ask you a question, and you ask me a question.” 

you equip the shaker with its strainer and start shaking it violently. 

“aren’t you curious as to how i won?” 

you freeze. only now do you feel the chill of the liquor from the shaker. 

“go ahead, sweetie,” sylus coaxes, thrilled to finally have your attention. “ask. i know you want to. your face back there said it all.”

placing the shaker down, you open its lid, pour its contents into the ice-filled glass, add a generous amount of soda water, turn around, and slam the glass in front of sylus. 

that’ll shut him up for a minute or two. 

but it takes everything in you not to gasp when you look up from the glass. 

since when was it raining outside? he’s seated with his shiny, silvery hair messily slicked back, beads of water slowly dripping down his face and neck, his drenched button-up suit clinging onto his chest and forearms for dear life, and his ruby-streaked blazer not only hanging from his broad shoulders but also adding to the puddles forming beneath the stool.

you make a mental note to inform your handler that the head of onychinus is NOT some old, short man with a face only a mother could love, like some of the rumors say. 

enjoying your gaze on him, sylus tilts his head teasingly. “well?”

you can’t back down. it sounds like he won’t either until you talk to him. pinning your hands on the counter, you lean in. “why did you hit? you knew your chances were low, even after looking at my cards.” 

he doesn’t answer immediately. it’s your turn to expect something from him, want something from him. it’s the least you could do after driving him in circles the whole night. besides, he wants a closer look at your face; commit it to memory in case you even think about leaving without compensating him for the absolute torture you put him through. 

after taking a slow sip from the glass, sylus asks, “ever heard of gambling addicts, sweetie?”

you squint at him. “yes, but you aren’t one.” 

“oh,” he quirks a brow. “so you know of me?” 

“everyone in the n109 zone knows who you are, mr. sylus.”

“yes, but you aren’t from the n109 zone, miss dealer.” 

you tense. although the shift in your shoulders was incredibly tiny, it was taken hostage by his eyes. he’s impressed by how controlled your reactions are. 

but now it's his turn to ask.

standing up from his stool, sylus leans in dangerously close and whispers, “what brings you to the n109 zone, sweetie?”

you don’t answer. but you don’t back away either. sylus likes that. he likes what’s happening right now. when was the last time he felt this ecstatic from a conversation? even though your answers were cryptic, he was able to conclude that you come from a place or are in a position where his existence is made aware, and probably in certain detail too, given your insistence on him not being a gambling addict. when was the last time he had a gin fizz that tasted this good? he’s delighted the serving he had at the previous table was also made by you (how does this psycho know that). and most importantly, when was the last time he felt threatened? something is unsettling about the way you won every single game tonight, with a look of indifference too. 

by chance, are you an evolver?

“i assure you, i am from here, mr. sylus,��� you answer with a small smile. it doesn't reach your eyes. removing your hands from the counter (he frowns when you do), you turn around to make another glass. hopefully his previous request for two will serve as a distraction. “you’re welcome to look into my name, but i’m sure the head of onychinus has better things to do than to worry about some dealer.” 

sylus laughs. he actually laughs. although it isn’t loud, the intervals as to which his rich voice seeps through are enough to convey that your lie hasn’t convinced him. “sweetie,” he shakes his head endearingly and sits down. “because i am the head of onychinus, everything and everyone in the n109 zone is subjected to my worrying, including intruders who use fake names.” 

you spin back around, your eyes full of alarm. how does he know about your alias? no, how does he even know you’re not from here? from the beginning, that’s what he’s been insisting on. there’s no way someone as busy as him could know about every single person residing in the n109 zone. at least, that’s what your handler said (oh how wrong she was). 

“do you truly expect me to believe that is your name?” sylus repeats your alias with scorn. it’s an injustice to your frame. “it doesn’t suit you. you need to pick better names, sweetie.

what the fuck. he’s convinced you’re an intruder because your alias doesn’t suit you?! this guy. this guy’s not sane. that’s it. now you really need to get out of here. glaring at him, you snatch his glass and dump its contents down the drain. damn it, you wasted too much time. he got you. he got you good. he never intended to uphold his “a question for a question” deal in the first place, given his bullshit answer about gambling addicts. 

“i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie through gritted teeth. “now excuse me, mr. sylus. the lounge was supposed to close fifteen minutes ago.” 

sylus licks his lips. he can almost taste the frustration in your face and voice. it’s intoxicating. that’s the second time he’s forced a reaction out of you. how much more until you beg him to stop? 

“of course, miss dealer,” he concedes mockingly. "allow me to escort you out.”

“that won’t be necessary,” you hiss. “my car is right around the alleyway.” 

“still,” he blocks you from exiting the bar. “it’s dark and raining outside. it’s the least i could do to pay for the drink.” 

“money will do,” you frown. 

“i’m afraid i’m all out, sweetie,” he smiles. “you did quite the number on me, after all.” 

you scoff. not only is his smile shameless, but so is his lie. you may not be from here, but you know damn well it’s going to take an eternity of games to even leave a dent in the head of onychinus’ bank account. you glance at the clock. you should have called for transportation by now. technically, you still can, but you need to be outside. and it doesn’t look like he’ll let you go anytime soon unless you accept his offer. 

“you can walk me to the alleyway,” you sigh. 

“not to your car?”

you scowl at him. don’t push it. 

sylus chuckles and steps aside. when you exit the bar with a huff, he can’t help but think you look like a cat, a cute little one who scratches when agitated. perhaps kitten will be what he calls you next. 

after turning off the lights, you step out of the lounge. only to freeze in your tracks.

corpses.

corpses of the two people involved in your commission. narrowing your eyes, you notice a bullet wound in each of their foreheads. you scan the ground, searching for any traces of the murderer. however, your blood runs cold when something catches your eye. sherman’s gun. you crouch to pick it up. did he kill himself? no, that doesn’t explain why his lackey has the same wound. 

“ah,” sylus interrupts your thoughts. “i forgot to escort you out the other way. my apologies, kitten.”

he knows violence doesn’t faze you as it normally would for any other outsider. still, he didn’t want you to see this kind of violence since there’s a substantial difference between witnessing an arm get crushed and witnessing the glassy eyes of lifeless bodies. 

though, he supposes he worried for nothing since you’re being eerily quiet with your eyes fixated on the gun. 

skillfully, you unload the gun. no bullets left. you exhale deeply. from the looks of it, sylus killed them since he knew the bodies would be here. furthermore, he used sherman’s gun, which initially only had two bullets, given the lack of bullet marks in the alleyway. you just happened to miss the sound of gunfire since you were too occupied. but if that’s the case, that means sherman and his lackey died quite the unfortunate death where the former’s gun was their undoing and no one could’ve heard them, which means… your evol. it did its job. too good of a job. 

“at least the commission is complete,” you murmur. 

sylus furrows his brow. “you, what did you just say?”

for a moment, all that is heard is the downpour of rain and the distant rumbling of thunder. 

you pull out your phone and press a contact. “delilah, open it now.” 

“what?”

you sprint down the alleyway, not bothering to acknowledge his confusion. 

sylus immediately chases after you, his legs moving like never before. shit, you completely took him by surprise. what was that phone call? no, what did you mean by a completed commission? and why do you know how to unload a gun? clenching his jaw, he prepares to teleport to the end of the alleyway, determined to intercept you. he’ll be damned if he lets you escape. 

although he blinks to the end of the alleyway, you make a sharp turn, evading his outstretched arm. 

“tch,” sylus clicks his tongue before continuing his pursuit. however, you make another turn around the corner, giving you three seconds out of his sight. 

by the time sylus turns around the corner, you’re gone. not a single trace of you left behind. but what infuriates him more is that this is a dead end. not a single way out but the way he got here. he slams a fist in the wall, ignoring the blood that seeps down and the deep cracks in the bricks. using his free hand, sylus pulls out his phone and dials his most recent contact. 

“luke. kieran. get me access to the cameras surrounding this lounge,” he spits the lounge’s name. “now.” 

♢♢♢♢♢

you breathe rapidly as you fall onto the floor, your throat burning and your ears ringing. you’ve never run so fast in your life. 

“welcome back,” a smooth voice says your name. your actual name. 

you look up to face your means of transportation, delilah. 

“what the— did it rain over there?” an acute voice asks. 

stella, your handler enters your vision. 

both of them reach out a hand for you to take. 

you begrudgingly accept and swiftly walk towards the door, eager to give yourself a fucking break after all that happened today. 

“what’s the rush?” delilah asks with a yawn. “don’t tell me you failed the commission—"

"how was your first time in the n109 zone?” stella interjects, warning delilah with her eyes. 

you pause before turning the knob. 

“never send me there again.”

[bubbbii]

Mr. Cocky

title : Mr. Cocky

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : Jungkook smut, BTS smut, kpop smut, dirty content

warnings : spanking, degrading, spitting, hair - pulling, name calling, doggystyle, missionary, choking, multiple orgasms, teasing, 21+ content

Summary :

“Let’s see how long you last .. until i fuck the cockiness outta you”

[Requested]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal story or idea without permission thank uu :)

Legoo

_________________________________________________

“And one good reason you don’t think he’s gonna invite us” “He knows i hate him, he knows you hate him. And i don’t care if we have connections with Hoseok and Yoongi, the shit isn’t happening” Momo sighed, rolling her eyes as we got out my car to walk into the university. “You never know-“ “Momo” Momo nodded, keeping her mouth shut as we walked.

“You have a crush on Hoseok don’t you” “YES! I DO! He’s just so hot with everything he does and then - he just smells so good-“ “Oh thank you i know i smell good” We looked up to see Jungkook with that cocky smirk of his, along side Hoseok and his friend Taehyung. I rolled my eyes, knowing what’s to come. “H-Hey, Mr Jeon” I gave Momo the craziest look on earth, hitting her arm as she looked at me shocked.

“Since when !?” “You see how empowering he is?” “He can’t even spell empowering” I snapped back, looking at the 3 as i crossed my arms. “What do you want?” Jungkook looked at me up and down, that smirk not leaving his face as he took a step closer. “I’m hosting something tonight, be there. My house” I raised an eyebrow, feeling Momo’s excitement behind me.

“Oh we’re invited!” “Who he demanding?” “We just wanted you guys to tag along! You guys seem very nice people” Taehyung spoke up, smiling shyly. I winked at the boy, making his cheeks turn into a blush red and saw Jungkook’s smirk fall off. “I guess, we’ll be there. You not making nobody pay is you?” “Oh no maam” I smirked, looking at Taehyung. “Good, thank you for that” Taehyung’s cheeks became a blood red at my calming voice.

Which sent Jungkook over the edge.

“STOP” We all looked at him, seeing him huff and roll his eyes. “Tired of this shit, gahdamnit. Be there. 7 pm” “Where’s your class beautiful?” Momo followed Hoseok, going inside the building. “Taehyung move” Taehyung quickly followed the duo inside and it was just me and him. “What?” “You .. the fuck was that?” “The fuck was what? I do what the hell i want” “That’s my friend damnit!” I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh? .. And since when you were in control of me? Look,” I started as i got closer to him. “You’re not as cool as you think. And don’t think i don’t know what you want, what you crave, what you desire. But baby i can let you know now? I’m the last person you should be demanding anything to” I whispered, looking him up and down before nudging the shoulder, leaving him there.

I went inside , seeing the the three at Momo’s locker and went towards them. “C-Can we go!?” I looked at the two men, sighing and looked at my excited best friend. “Alright, we’ll be there” Momo cheered, hugging me with excitement. “We’re gonna have so much fun i just know it!” “Mhm, and you?” I pointed at the two men. “Don’t think i trust you either” I finished, before pushing aside them and went towards my class . And i meant that.

6:30 pm.

Author POV

“Y/N COME ON ITS 6:30!” Y/N fluffed her hair, looking at herself one more time before smirking at herself. “Lookin good girl, lookin good” Y/N whispered to herself before spraying her perfume on and grabbed her purse before going down to meet her friend. “Oh my goodness, you look gorgeous!” Y/N smiled brightly, going towards Momo. “You and me both ok!? Someone’s tryna shoot their shot huh” “You know it, it’s been too long, and we’re fina graduate. I need to do something” “Well you’re definitely the catch, you wore those heels huh?” “Just for him” They laughed, getting their stuff together.

Soon Y/N’a phone started ringing, catching both of women’s attention and Y/N looked down to see Yoongi’s contact. “Oh it’s Yoongi” Y/N answered it, seeing his face pop up. “Yoongles, wassup” “Ya’ll got invited it looks like” “We sure did and guess who’s shooting their shot” Momo popped up, seeing Yoongi roll her eyes at the comment having them laugh. “Oh brother don’t even bother, ya’ll both on the same page with that one” Momo’s eyes widened, looking at the two of them and soon began to scream around the house.

“Done got her started” The two chuckled as Y/N leaned against the kitchen island. “That’s not why i called you … who gave you the invite?” “You know who, and I only agreed because Momo really wanted to go … and plus Hoseok, so” Yoongi hummed. “You know I came here to be messenger, for Jungkook” Y/N rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as she had a gut feeling.

“I don’t care” “but he does, it’s bothering him! And it’s bothering you too” “how do you know that?” “Because I know my best friend? And I know when something is bothering her” Y/N sighed again, rolling her eyes as she heard Yoongi sigh over the phone. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be for me. You know why he invited you guys especially you. He wants to see you” “Ok i’m only doing this because of Momo if Momo didn’t have that dumb crush on Hoseok i would not been going Yoongi!” “And I understand that, but see the bigger perspective ok? He’s expecting you, try to see past the cockiness and i’ll be there when you need me”

Y/N sighed again, humming in agreement. “Alright” “thank you, i’ll see you alright?” Y/N hummed in agreement and hung up, sighing heavily as she called Momo to the kitchen. “I might’ve … eavesdropped?” The two chuckled at Momo’s saying. “But I agree with Yoongles, the bigger picture gives you more opportunities, alright?” Y/N nodded, smiling before the two grabbed their belongings and went out to the car to drive off to the party.

Time Skip.

“Wow … he’s filthy rich” The two looked at the huge house that the huge crowd was going towards to fill. Y/N closed her door, walking towards the sidewalk and Momo linked her arm with her’s. “You ready?” “I’m nervous, you think I look ok?” “You’re beautiful” Y/N responded as they made their way towards the front door. The house was filled. Namjoon on the island making drinks, music blasting, Y/N can say .. he threw a helluva party.

“Oh! Looks who’s coming!” Y/N looked to her left to see Hoseok and Taehyung coming towards them. “Ladies! Looking gorgeous tonight” “Thank you gentlemen! Where’s Yoongi?” “Here” Y/N looked behind her to see Yoongi smiling at them. “Someone’s dressing like it’s a fashion show” “You know why! You see all these girls in here?” “Well they ain’t nothing compared to what you have on. You look pretty” “Pretty you are” Hoseok followed after Y/N, taking Momo’s hand and Momo immediately looked at her for approval.

“You know what happens if any shit goes down” Momo squealed in excitement at Y/N’s saying towards Hoseok and the two left the trio. “Now you, are off the charts, this jumpsuit really fits your curves” “thank you, I did a little sum now seeing everyone else in here. Jungkook really loves black” “Why you think all of us have on black?” They laughed at Yoonig’s comment. “No seriously, you look very beautiful” Y/N’s cheeks rushed red, thanking him for the compliment. But Yoongi nudged Taehyung by the foot, locking eyes with the man as Y/N drunk a drink she had.

Yoongi knew what Taehyung was doing, and he wasn’t having it. “You wanna go get a drink with me?” “Taehyung don’t you have someone waiting for you?” “No? I was just tryna take Y/N to get a drink-“ “I’ll take Y/N to get a drink, thank you” Jungkook popped up, eyeing Taehyung and locked eyes with Y/N. “You came huh?” “I’m not here for you and that cocky shit Jungkook i didn’t even come for your ass” Y/N snapped, walking to leave but Jungkook got her arm to pull her back.

“I was playing with you, don’t argue with me tonight alright?” Jungkook whispered softly in her ear, having Y/N shudder at the deep voice filling her ears. Y/N hummed, slowly walking away with Jungkook behind her. “You better stop that shit Jungkook is not afraid to fuck you up” Yoongi said towards Taehyung, walking away from the man.

“Well hello you two, what can i get ya’ll?” “Margarita’s please” Jungkook answered Namjoon and he went to fix the drinks. “You’re a W wingwoman huh” “The only one, look at her, just giggly” The two looked at Momo and Hoseok laughing at each other. “Can’t say the same for her” Jungkook said, looking at Y/N as she made eye contact. “Aww, you was looking for me?” “Ok you didn’t have to put it like that” “Oh so you weren’t?” Jungkook sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Y/N you left your phone” Y/N looked up to see Taehyung having her phone in her hand. “Oh thank you” Y/N grabbed it, the two making eye contact which sent Jungkook’s blood boiling. “Give the phone to her” Yoongi popped up behind Taehyung, Y/N having her phone in her hand finally. “You always ruining my shot man what’s going on with you?” “Because it’s not your shot to shoot” Jungkook jumped in, getting up meeting taehyung eye to eye.

And hell broke lose.

The two boys was going back and forth, and Y/N and Yoongi made eye contact with Yoongi communicating with her with his eyes. Y/N caught on and made the decision on her own to grab Jungkook’s arm, nudging him which made him stop. He looked at Y/N, reading her eyes and he sighed, rolling his eyes and went back to Taehyung. “You’re no good for her, if anything i’ll take care of her more than you can” “But I bet you don’t know the meaning of her tattoo on her left wrist” Y/N’s eyes widened, standing up as Jungkook slowly turned around, locking eyes with the wet-eyed woman.

“Her and her father got matching tats before he passed away from a sickness” Jungkook softly finished, raising his hand to softly wipe the tear that fell down her cheek. Jungkook looked back at Taehyung’s defeated expression. “There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about this woman and you sit here up in my face and tell me YOU can treat her better than I CAN?!” Jungkook yelled at him, then looked back at Y/N’s shocked expression. “I’ve been wanting to do that since i laid eyes on her” Jungkook whispered before giving Taehyung a death stare and pushed passed him and everyone else.

All eyes were on Y/N.

Y/N locked eyes with Yoongi with teary eyes and Yoongi sighed softly, going towards her. “You got it” Yoongi whispered, reassuring her before Y/N pushed pass the crowd to find Jungkook. She went down the hallway to see him taking his time walking towards a door that was in front. “JUNGKOOK!” Jungkook turned around, seeing Y/N at the end of the large hallway in the house.

“Kook…” Y/N called out softly, seeing Jungkook turning around fully to face her. “Guess I know more about you than what I believed” A tear rolled down her cheek, the two walking towards each other with such craving between the pair. “How?” “I did my research, you’re right .. i’m not as cool, as i think i am. But you know where you’re wrong?” Jungkook answered, coming closer to Y/N.

“You don’t know, what i desire, what i crave .. because who would’ve known it was you?” Y/N’s heart beat raced itself, locking eyes with the hungry ones. “What-“ “Believe me, when I say you’re the only one who’s willing to fuck the cockiness outta me. And you know i’ll let you” Y/N’s heart was about to jump out its chest. She couldn’t take anymore teasing.

“How I know you’re deadass?” Jungkook scoffed, that cocky smirk soon forming. “You think I won’t shut this whole thing just to have us two by ourselves and let the whole house hear how good I’m fucking you?” Her breath hitched, looking away as Jungkook’s chuckle filled the empty hallway. “I wouldn’t mind .. specially feeing the anger pent up in you seeing what you’re friend was tryna get into” Jungkook’s smirk fell at the memory, Y/N coming closer to him feeling the warmth.

“You enjoyed that huh?” “I enjoyed seeing your jealousy come through. I knew you had a luh thing for me” Jungkook smacked his lips, Y/N the one chuckling now at her behavior. “But he can’t compare to you … you know that” Y/N’s voice softened, the two locking eyes before Jungkook smashed his lips on hers, bringing her closer as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck I can’t wait, I can’t-“ “Y/N! Can I talk to you for a minute?!” Jungkook already knew the voice, and grabbed Y/N by her hand and dragged her out the hallway making the woman chuckle as she knew why.

“Oh i love this side” “Yea you might just get this more often keep trying” Jungkook answered, connecting their lips again as he picked her up. He closed the bedroom door with his foot and walked towards his bed, laying her on it gently. “Feel that hard cock?” Jungkook whispered in her ear, grinding the aching bulge against her aching hood which caused her to moan inside her mouth. “Mmh fuck, daddy” “Oh i like that” Jungkook applied pressure, allowing the noises to come out her mouth.

“Fuck!” “Ooh good girl, i hear you” Jungkook stripped the both of them, kissing her smooth feeling skin from the top all the way to the bottom. He soon stopped to her hood, looking up at her. “Jungkook please .. no teasing please-“ “Who’s Jungkook?” Y/N huffed in annoyance. “Daddy .. please?” Jungkook pulled her closer to him, kissing up her thighs before stopping to her aching hood.

“Oh I’m gonna enjoy this” Jungkook wasted no time to dig his head inside, eating her out like a wild animal as he sucked up every juice, every drop there was making Y/N go wild. “Oo-Oh my, fuck! Fuck just like that, just like that daddy shit!” “Let them fucking hear you” Jungkook aggressed, lapping his tongue all over her folds making Y/N moan freely. “I-I can’t fucking think .. fuck! It feels so g-good! Daddy!” Jungkook was motivated to keep going with his movements, digging his tongue inside hitting all the spots Y/N didn’t know she had.

Had to be the best decision Y/N’s ever made.

“Fuuuckk i’m so close to, im so close shit i’m gonna cum, I wanna c-cum” “You wanna cum for me baby? You wanna cum for daddy let them hear you princess, you got it” Y/N’s head threw back, the pressure building up in the pit of her stomach before releasing on his face. Pleasure heated up in her body, releasing everything on the man’s face. “Ohh good girl , that’s my good girl” Jungkook praised, licking every drop before hovering over her and connected their lips.

“Taste yourself?” “Taste pretty good if you ask me” “Not too much, it’s mine” the couple chuckled, turning her over as her back arched naturally. “My pretty girl , doing so good for me hm?” Jungkook spanked her, making Y/N jolt at the movement, moaning at the kink that was fulfilled to her. “You l-listen .. i want you to remember every single moment you allowed y-yourself to get beside you hear? Fuck every ounce of ‘Cocky’ you got in you because i’m t-tired. You understand?” Jungkook felt every word, the strength rising in his body.

And Jungkook was waiting for this exact moment.

“Yes maam” Jungkook wasted no time, snapping his hips into her and began to fuck her senseless into the mattress. Y/N was speechless. “Don’t got no words h-huh? You asked for this shit” Y/N moaned her ass off. her eyes disappearing in her eye sockets, lower lip bruised and probably bleeding from biting so much. She was already out of it. “F-FUCK! I kn-know I did, didn’t think you had it in y-you - SHIT! Fuck me like that please!” “Oh you got jokes huh? You got f-fucking jokes I got something for that” Jungkook’s pace increased, causing Y/N to grab anything that was near her and hold it tightly.

Y/N was playing with fire at this point.

“S-So what, if this is t-the result .. shit i’ll be a comedian - OH MY GOD!” “Yea turn around smartass” Jungkook turned her over, and fucked her missionary. “Legs higher” Y/N listened, sticking her legs up higher which caused Jungkook’s cock to go deeper into her. “Fuuckk daddy - right there! R-Right there I feel close. I feel cl-close!” Jungkook wrapped the tatted hand around her neck, creating eye contact. “I want you to remember this moment, you did this. You’re gonna squirt all over this fucking cock to make you remember how you - fuck - how you made me feel. You understand me?” “Ooh yes daddy. Make me cum please?” Jungkook’s pace quickened which took Y/N over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum daddy please” “Cum for me babygirl you got it” Y/N then squirted all over Jungkook’s cock, causing Jungkook to chuckle at the action. “My good girl, that’s my good fucking girl huh? Keep going for me baby” Y/N didn’t stop cumming until after a while, breathing heavily as heat rushed over her body. “You forgot someone” Y/N sat up tiredly, going on her knees as she took Jungkook’s soaked cock and went all the way down.

Didn’t that catch Jungkook off guard.

“Oh shit - you went d-down like that? Fuck, I feel close already” Y/N smirked, lapping her tongue around the tip and moaned around him causing Jungkook to go crazy. “Fuck .. i’m gonna cum, Y/N” Y/N kept the vibrations up, deep throating him once more before feeling the ropes go down her throat. Y/N chuckled, swallowing him before slowly taking the now soft dick out.

The two breathed heavily, Y/N laying on her back as sweat covered the both of them. Jungkook cleansed themselves, getting on top of her. “Cmon now you too heavy for all of that” Y/N rasped, swallowing the spritz of spit she had in her throat left making Jungkook chuckle. “You felt that?” Y/N asked softly, looking at Jungkook who was on top of her, face inches away. “I did .. where does that leave us?” “You tell me” Y/N answered, smirking making Jungkook connect their lips, kissing a while before breaking apart. “Let me .. make this up to you, i’m not hiding behind someone no more” Jungkook rasped, the voice giving Y/N chills.

“Let me take you out, make you feel good, I’ll try my best to have a change of heart” Y/N smiled softly, humming to herself. “Well alright .. Mr Cocky”

[spock-smokes-weed]

I think what gets under my skin about people acting like Dan and Phil are intentionally trying to exclude people from the tour or merch drops, is that it shows they don’t know anything about how international markets work or how DnP are at the whims of them.

The thing that’s so brain rotted about the so called “leftist” internet is the CONSTANT use of individualistic thinking to bully people. When a big part of being a leftist is trying to breakdown that kind of thinking. There could be a million reasons why they can’t ship things truly globally. We live in a world that disproportionately excludes the global south. DnP live inside the same system that we do. They only have so much motion as Internet celebrities.

From my understanding it’s that the shipment company they’re using doesn’t do wider international shipping, or it would be too expensive, and they could be caught up in a contract that lasts for X amount of years or for X amount of money. Or it could just be the same thing with the tour “you don’t have enough fans in this region. We won’t ship there.” Business can be a real crapshoot guys.

Is it okay to be upset that you can’t get their merch? Yes. Is it understandable to want DnP to be more transparent about the how and why they can’t do certain things? Yes.

Is it reasonable to tweet hateful things at them or snakily implying they hate their international fans? Absolutely not.

Dan and Phil are just two guys at the end of the day. Two guys who’ve been open about doing a lot of things in house. There are going to be blind spots and errors and I just wish when things like this happens we can act like adults and not cannibalize each other or DnP.